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snowysosturn · 11 days ago

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Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 22

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, feeling of betrayal, mentions of loss of appetite, arguments, this ones a looooooong one

The sun is beginning its slow descent by the time I finally drag myself out of bed. My body feels heavy, like I’ve been carrying the weight of the world in my chest. I need something, anything, to ground me, and right now, a cup of tea sounds like the only thing that might help.

That’s the plan. Go to the kitchen, make it, and come straight back up to my room. I’ll sit on my balcony and watch the last bits of sunlight disappear while I think about what to do next.

But my main goal: avoid Matt.

I slip out of my room, moving as quietly as possible. The last thing I want is to draw attention to myself. The house is silent apart from the distant murmur of voices outside on the patio. I catch a glimpse through the window, figures sitting around, but I can’t make out exactly who. Not that it matters. I’m not stopping to find out.

The only sound that gives away my presence is the low whirl of the kettle. I stand there, staring at it as it heats up, feeling every second drag out like an eternity. I grab a mug and put the tea bag in it so as soon as it clicks off, I can pour the water and milk, moving quickly but carefully. Just get in, get out.

Successfully, I make my tea.

Mission accomplished.

Now, I just need to make it back upstairs.

But just as I start up the steps, the sound of the patio door sliding open sends a jolt of panic through me.

Shit.

I don’t even turn to see who it is, I just pick up my pace, practically going up the steps two at a time.

I reach the top of the stairs and turn the corner, then..

BAM.

I nearly spill my tea everywhere as I slam into someone, my breath catching in my throat. I look up, and my stomach drops.

Matt.

For a split second, time slows. His eyes lock onto mine, searching, but I don’t give him the chance. Like I’m on autopilot, my feet keep moving, my mouth stays shut, and I walk right past him without a single word.

I don’t stop. I don’t hesitate. I reach my room, step inside, and lock the door behind me.

I let out a shaky breath, gripping my mug a little tighter. I try my best to shake it off. It was just a few seconds. Just an unfortunate encounter in a house that now feels way too small.

I know I’m going to have to face him sooner or later. There’s no avoiding it forever. But I’m not ready right now, not for a one on one, not for the inevitable conversation.

So, instead of dwelling on it, I step onto the balcony. The sun is slowly dropping lower, so I sit here and try an appreciate the sky, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe..

Until there's a knock at my door.

I freeze.

No. No, no, no. If this is Matt, I swear to god.

But then I hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

“Y/n? It’s me.”

Nick.

Relief washes over me so quickly it almost knocks me over. I exhale, setting my tea down on the small table before walking back inside. I hesitate for just a second before unlocking the door.

Nick steps into the room, his expression soft but searching mine. "How you doing?"

I shrug lightly, forcing a small smile. "I'm okay.. I just made a cup of tea. Was gonna sit out on the balcony while the sun sets."

Nick nods, his eyes flicking toward the open balcony doors. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Of course not" I say, stepping aside so he can follow me out.

We settle into the chairs. The silence between us is comforting, a huge difference to the chaos of the past twenty four hours.

After a minute, Nick clears his throat. "I ran into Matt coming up the stairs."

My body stiffens, fingers tightening around my mug. "Oh."

“I just asked if he had spoken to you yet, and he said no."

I huff out a breath, looking back toward the view. I take a slow sip of my tea before turning back to Nick. "So, what's your plan for the night?"

He leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I'm gonna go meet that guy."

I raise an eyebrow. "That guy? You’ve been talking about him for days, and I still don’t even know his name."

Nick hesitates, his expression shifting slightly. He looks at me like he's bracing for something.

I narrow my eyes. "Nick.. what?"

He winces, rubbing the back of his neck. "His name is.. George."

For a second, we just stare at each other. Then, at the exact same moment, we both burst out laughing.

"George?!" I manage between laughs.

"I know! I know!" Nick groans, covering his face. "I was hoping you wouldn’t ask."

"I'm sorry, but that’s just- " I laugh harder, shaking my head.

Nick grins, finally giving in. "I know I never pictured myself with a George but I swear, the way he is makes up for it though!"

"I'm sure it does.." I say, still giggling. "It's just.. George."

We end our fit of laughter and I don’t bother asking what everyone else’s plans are, especially after overhearing Chris earlier. My guess is he’s going to meet Rachel. Whether Matt tags along to meet Christina too is a different story. I don’t want to know. All I know is that I’m not moving from this room.

Nick doesn’t press the conversation any further, and I appreciate that. Instead, we sit there, laughter lingering in the air between us. I'm glad Nick came into me because suddenly I feel a little bit lighter.

Eventually, he checks his phone and sighs. "I should probably start getting ready."

I nod, still staring at the sunset. "Yeah. Have fun."

Nick hesitates for a second before standing. "You sure you’re good?"

I glance at him, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’m good." I mean it is a lie, but he doesn’t call me out on it.

He squeezes my shoulder before heading out. I exhale, setting my empty mug down on the table beside me. I know I should eat something, try to distract myself, maybe even attempt to sleep, but I don’t move. I stay curled up in my chair, staring at the fading sky, wondering how everything changed so fast.

When I finally move to my bed, I pull the covers up around me, but even laying here feels weird. The sheets feel awful against me now, tainted with memories that once brought comfort but now only make my stomach churn. My mind spirals, picturing how easily our history could be replicated in his bed, with someone else. The thought makes my chest tighten, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting it all to stop.

I take a deep breath, then another, but it doesn’t help. My mind keeps circling back to the same place, the same questions, the same ache in my chest that refuses to go away. How could he do this? Did any of it mean anything? Was I just another passing moment for him?

I need to make it stop.

I turn onto my side, curling into myself, exhausted from it all. Being honest, my eyes hurt that much from crying, I don’t find it hard to fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning determined to be a new woman. I have a shower to wash away all of yesterday's sorrow, before pulling out the smallest blue bikini I could find. I make my way downstairs and throw myself together a small breakfast, considering I haven't eaten in over 24 hours but not forcing myself too much as my appetite still isn't fully back yet.

I take my breakfast outside to the patio and I settle onto a lounger, my plate resting on my lap. The villa is silent. Everyone must still be asleep, sleeping off their drunken choices, their reckless mistakes.

Good. I need the peace.

I take a slow bite of my food, staring out at the water. The pool glistens under the morning light, the water undisturbed. Today is a new day. A fresh start.

I adjust my sunglasses and stretch out after putting my plate under my lounger, determined to soak in the sun and let it warm the parts of me that feel cold and bitter. If anyone sees me out here, I want them to see that I’m unbothered. That I’m fine.

A few minutes pass in silence before I hear the sliding door creak open behind me. I don't turn to look. I don't react.

I realise it’s Nate and Nick coming out, both looking more awake than I expected.

"Morning" they say in unison, and I greet them with a small smile “Morning early birds.”

I turn to Nick first. "Soooo? How was your night with George?"

Nick rubs the back of his neck, and I can tell he’s holding back his excitement for my sake. "It was good" he says simply.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Nick."

He sighs, then finally lets the grin slip through. "Okay, fine. It was great, actually. We got drinks, had a laugh. He’s funny, really easy to talk to."

I smile at him, genuinely happy. "That’s what I like to hear. You deserve a good time."

Nick gives me a look, like he’s checking if I really mean it. I do. Just because my love life is a disaster doesn’t mean I want everyone else to be miserable with me.

I turn to Nate next. "And what about you? What were you up to?"

Nate stretches his arms over his head, looking far too well rested. "Didn’t move from my bed. Best sleep I’ve had in weeks."

I laugh. "Of course you did. You look like you just got back from a spa retreat while the rest of us look like we barely survived the night."

The three of us settle into conversation, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the lightness of it. But in the back of my mind, I know this moment won’t last. The rest of the villa is still asleep, for now. And soon enough, I’ll have to face the reality I’ve been trying to avoid.

"Is Chris up?" I ask Nate, trying to sound casual.

Nate shakes his head. "Don’t think he even came back here last night."

I swallow hard, nodding slowly. "Oh right"

There's been no sign of Matt either. That tells me everything I need to know.

Guess that means he went out with Chris and stayed with Christina last night again.

I should’ve expected it, but expecting something doesn’t make it hurt any less.

For the rest of the morning, it stays just me, Nick, and Nate chilling outside. The sun climbs higher, and the villa remains quiet, no sign of Chris or Matt. I sip on my water, listening to the distant waves crashing on the shore, slipping in and out of conversation with Nick and Nate as a distraction.

By midday, that peacefulness is interrupted. I hear the sliding door open, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching.

I lift my head slightly, peering through my sunglasses. Chris and Matt step outside together. Just seeing them like this, together, appearing at the same time, only further confirms what I already knew.

Matt was with Christina last night.

I can feel my heart break over again, but I refuse to let it show.

Without a word, I rest my head back down on the lounger, keeping my sunglasses on, blocking them out. I’m not ready for any type of conversation. Not yet.

Nate and Nick casually greet them, like nothing is out of the ordinary. Chris stretches, rubbing the back of his neck, and asks if anyone’s hungry.

My stomach twists at the thought of food. The second I saw Matt, my appetite vanished again. So I keep my mouth closed.

Nate says he is and disappears inside with them, leaving just me and Nick alone by the pool.

The quiet settles between us for a moment before Nick turns to me. “Are you coming to dinner tonight?” His tone sounds like he wants me to be there, even though he understands If I don’t want to.

I hesitate. The idea of sitting at a table with Matt, pretending everything is fine, feels impossible. I open my mouth to say no, but Nick is already cutting me off.

“You don’t have to talk to him at all” he reassures me. “I’ll be there the whole time.”

I exhale, chewing on my bottom lip. I do feel bad if I don’t go. It’s just dinner, right? I mean, the tension between Matt and I is like old times, nothing I haven’t had to deal with or experience before. The only thing is, the feeling in my chest is a hundred times worse than it ever was before.

“Okay” I finally say. “I’ll come.”

Nick grins, tapping my arm lightly. “We’ll have a good time, I promise.”

I nod, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift.

By now, it’s nearly 3pm, and the sun has drained me but nowhere near as much as the situation with Matt has. The exhaustion clings to me, both physical and emotional, and I know if I don’t rest now, I’ll be useless later.

“I think I’m gonna go for a nap” I mumble, pushing myself up from the lounger.

Nick gives me a small smile. “Good idea. I’ll wake you if you’re not up in time.”

I nod again, grateful, and make my way inside. The second I hit my bed, the world around me fades.

When I wake up, the air in my room feels heavier, the remnants of my dreams still in my brain. I shake them off and head straight for the shower.

By the time I step out, wrapped in a towel, I feel better. Maybe, tonight won’t be as bad as I think.

I walk out and go to sit at the vanity, but I feel like I need to lift the vibe even more.

A drink and music.

That’s what I need if I have any chance of enjoying myself tonight.

Still in my towel, I make my way downstairs, moving quickly so I don’t run into anyone. I pour myself a vodka lemonade, throwing pieces of ice into the fancy glass.

Running back up to my room, I shut the door, take a sip, and set my speaker on full blast. I turn on It’s ok, i’m ok by Tate McRae, the lyrics hitting a little too close to home. I let the music drown out my thoughts as I start getting ready, determined to feel like myself again, even if it’s just for tonight.

I move through my routine on autopilot, letting the music and the slight buzz from my drink carry me through. I’m not overthinking my outfit, my makeup, or my hair, yet somehow, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I look effortlessly put together. Maybe it’s the lighting, maybe it’s the fact that I’ve just given up on caring, but either way, I feel like this is the best I’ve ever looked.

I pick up my phone and text Nick, asking him to come to my room to take pictures. It barely takes a minute before he’s knocking on my door, slipping inside with an approving grin.

“Damnnnn!” he says, dragging the word out. “You look amazing.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my lips. “You have to say that.”

“I really don’t” he laughs, already pulling his phone out. “We need evidence of this moment.”

We take a few pictures together, Nick hyping me up between shots, making me laugh just enough to keep it natural.

When we’re satisfied with the pictures, I wonder where it is we’re actually going to eat. “So, where are we even going for dinner?”

“Some Italian place Chris booked” Nick says, glancing at his phone. “He said he made the reservation earlier.

I nod, I love italian food, so I’m hoping this whole thing is just easy. I grab my purse, double checking that I have everything, phone, keys to the villa, money. I take a deep breath before heading downstairs with Nick.

The moment we step into the foyer, I see them. Chris, Nate, and Matt are all standing together, talking casually like nothing has changed, like the last few days haven’t flipped my world upside down. Matt looks up first. For the briefest second, our eyes meet, and I swear I see something flash across his face, it’s something, but I can’t make out what. But I don’t let myself dwell on it.

I adjust the strap of my purse on my shoulder, forcing my expression to remain neutral. This is the closest I’ve been to Matt since the nightclub, since everything, but I refuse to let it get to me. Not tonight.

I tilt my chin up slightly, gripping onto my confidence like it’s my lifeline, and step forward like I don’t have a care in the world.

I stay locked in conversation with Nick as we leave the villa to make our way to the restaurant, trying to distract myself from the tension in the air. Chris lingers back slightly, eventually matching my pace as we walk. His presence next to me is quiet at first, almost hesitant, before he finally speaks.

"You okay?" His voice is low, careful, like he already knows the answer but feels the need to ask anyway.

It’s a weird one. I haven't heard from Chris since everything went down. He’s been distant, not in a hostile way, but in a way that tells me he didn’t know how to approach me. And now, here he is, finally asking.

I glance at him briefly, weighing my response before settling on, "I will be."

Chris nods slowly, seeming to accept that answer. “Can we talk later? About everything?”

I exhale softly, not quite ready to dive into whatever everything entails but knowing that it’s overdue. I don’t think there was any malice from him in this situation. And I’m not mad at him at all. I would like to know what his thought process was throughout all this. And maybe, he's actually done me a favour. “Yeah,” I agree. “Later.”

That seems to be enough for now. The group keeps moving, making our way toward the restaurant. When we arrive, the guys step inside ahead of us, but I notice them mumbling amongst themselves, their voices low and almost hurried, like there’s some sort of confusion.

Something about their body language makes me pause, and I follow their line of sight before realizing exactly what has caught their attention.

Rachel and Christina.

They’re seated at a table near the back. Five empty seats are pulled out beside them, waiting.

A sharp, sinking feeling settles in my stomach.

Of course.

Of course they’re here. It was already bad enough having to see Matt, to sit across from him and pretend I wasn’t still breaking, but now, this?

I don’t even have to look at him to know. I can feel his presence, his hesitation. I wonder if he knew they’d be here. If this was always the plan.

My fingers tighten slightly around the strap of my purse as I will myself to keep my composure.

This night just got a whole lot harder.

Nick squeezes my hand gently, a silent reassurance that he’s here, that I’m not alone in this. “What do you wanna do?” he asks quietly, his voice just for me.

I take a breath, steadying myself. “Sit at the other end” I say, keeping my voice even, refusing to let this shake me any more than it already has.

Without hesitation, Nick follows my lead, guiding me toward the farthest end of the table, away from Rachel and Christina. I slide into my seat, positioning myself as far as I can from them, while Nick sits beside me, his presence like a barrier between me and whatever mess is sitting across the table.

Matt and Chris take their seats. Chris next to Rachel and Matt next to Christina. Whether it was planned or just happened naturally, I don’t know, but it doesn’t make a difference, the damage is done.

The tension is suffocating. You could cut it with a knife. I never thought at the start of this trip I’d be sitting diagonally across from Matt and another girl.

Nobody speaks at first. There’s an awkward shuffle of menus being picked up, the quiet clinking of silverware as waiters move around us, but no real conversation.

I keep my gaze down, focused on the menu even though I’m not really reading it. My appetite had started to come back earlier, but now? Completely gone again.

Nick, ever my lifeline in this nightmare, leans in slightly constantly making sure I’m okay. “You good?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

I nod once, though I’m not sure if I mean it. “Yeah” I lie. “I’m fine.”

But we both know I’m not.

I try to keep my focus on the menu, pretending to be absorbed in the options, but it’s impossible to ignore Christina. She is relentless, shifting in her seat so she’s angled toward Matt, her body language screaming interest. The way she leans forward, the way her fingers reach out casually to graze his forearm as she talks, it’s all so intentional.

“Oh my God, Matt, you look so good tonight” she purrs, tilting her head as she studies him. “Did you do something different? Your hair? A new cologne?”

Matt barely reacts, only offering a tight lipped smile as he glances at her briefly. “Uh, no. Same as always.” he replies, going back to his menu.

But Christina isn’t deterred. She lets out a soft, exaggerated sigh. “God, I can’t believe we’re all in Hawaii together. It feels like such a movie moment, don’t you think?” She flicks her gaze up at him through her lashes. “Like, if this was a movie, we’d be the main characters.”

Matt huffs a small laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Yeah, I don’t know about that, don’t really take myself as the main character type of guy.” His tone is light, but there’s no real engagement. He’s keeping it neutral.

She’s not giving up, though. She leans in again, dropping her voice to something more sultry. “You know, I had so much fun the other night” she murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.

My stomach twists, but I don’t react. I refuse to. Instead, I lift my glass of water to my lips, taking a slow sip as if I’m completely unbothered.

Nick shifts beside me, subtly kicking my foot under the table as if to say don’t react. I know he’s watching me closely, waiting for me to crack, but I won’t.

Chris, who’s been silent this whole time, suddenly clears his throat. “Christina, didn’t you say this was your first time in Hawaii?”

It’s so obviously a distraction tactic, and I can’t tell if he’s doing it to get her off Matt’s back or because he knows I’m sitting here, silently absorbing every word.

Christina finally tears her gaze away from Matt and glances at Chris. “Oh, yeah it is.” she says, waving a hand dismissively.

Matt doesn’t say anything. He just flips a page of the menu, like none of this is even phasing him. Meanwhile, Rachel is watching me like a hawk, waiting for a reaction.

I meet her eyes for a split second and give her the most nonchalant look I can muster before turning to Nick. “What are you getting?” I ask, my voice steady.

Nick glances at me, eyes scanning my face for any sign of weakness before answering, “Probably the carbonara.”

I nod. “Good choice.”

Nate, ever the sweetheart, seems to pick up on everything, the way I’m keeping my head down, the way Nick keeps a protective presence beside me, the way Matt and Christina’s exchange is unfolding just within earshot. Without missing a beat, he slides into conversation with me and Nick as he’s seated opposite us, as if we’re in our own little bubble, separate from the tension on the other side of the table.

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Nate asks, leaning forward with a smile. “I was thinking of heading down to the beach early. Maybe rent a jet ski or something. You two in?”

Nick catches on immediately, grateful for the shift in attention. “Absolutely. I’d love to see you wipe out within the first five minutes.”

Nate pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his chest. “Excuse you, I’m actually a professional. Very experienced!”

I can’t help but smile at their antics, grateful for the distraction. “Professional, huh? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Nate smirks. “Oh, you will. And when I leave you both in my wake, don’t come crying to me.”

Nick scoffs. “Yeah, okay, Nate. Keep dreaming.”

As we laugh, it’s almost easy to forget the rest of the table exists, almost. Because out of the corner of my eye, I see Chris sitting stiffly, glancing between me and the rest of the group, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He hasn’t even touched his menu. He just sits there, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he’s caught in the middle of something he never signed up for.

At one point, he opens his mouth like he wants to say something,to me, but then he hesitates, pressing his lips together instead. His fingers drum restlessly against the table. It’s almost like he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but he can’t.

I keep my focus on Nate and Nick as everyone gives their orders, letting them carry me through the moment, keeping me occupied. And for now, that’s all I need.

The food arrives shortly after, and I focus on my meal, keeping my eyes down, keeping my composure. If I just get through dinner, I’ll be fine.

But Christina doesn’t make it easy.

She just doesn’t stop, her voice carrying just loud enough to ensure I hear every flirtatious remark, every exaggerated giggle. It’s all so obvious, the way she leans toward Matt, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger.

“Oh my God, Matt, you’re so funny” she forces, brushing her fingers against his wrist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hasn’t even said anything that funny.

“We should totally do something after this!” Christina continues, tilting her head. “Maybe check out that tiki bar? It would be so fun.”

Matt doesn’t commit. “Maybe.”

Maybe.

That single word twists something in my stomach, because it means he hasn’t outright said no. And I know it shouldn’t matter but that doesn’t stop the sting.

As everyone starts discussing where to go next, I stay quiet, already knowing my answer. The only place I want to be right now is home. I only ever agreed to dinner, nothing more. The idea of trailing behind while Christina continues her performance, while Matt does whatever he’s doing, is unbearable.

I lean toward Nick and quietly tell him, “I’m heading back.”

He nods in understanding, not even questioning it. “That’s fair. I’ll go for one drink, then I’ll be home after. We can debrief, I’ll try to get more info.”

I manage a small smile at that. If there’s anyone I can count on to feed me the details later, it’s Nick.

We both stand, and I feel Chris’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet them. If he wants to talk, he can find me when I’m not on the verge of either snapping or crying.

Nick walks me to the taxi rank just outside the restaurant, following behind me as we weave through the crowd. I should want to stay out, to drown out my thoughts with drinks and distractions, but all I want is to be alone.

“You sure you’re okay going back on your own?” Nick asks as we wait for a taxi to pull up.

I let out a breath. “Yeah. Just over it.”

Nick doesn’t push. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

A taxi pulls up, and he opens the door for me. Before I get in, he squeezes my hand briefly, just a reminder that I’m not alone in all of this.

I nod my thanks, slide into the backseat, and as the car pulls away, I finally let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

I pull up to the villa and thank the taxi man, paying him for the fare. I step out of the car and as I do one pulls up directly behind me.

I freeze for a second, my stomach tightening as I watch Matt step out of the taxi behind me. Of all people, of all times, it has to be him.

I don’t wait for him to say anything. I turn toward the villa, walking quickly up the steps, my heels clicking against the cobblestone pavement. I take my keys out of my bag, unlocking the front door.

I can hear him behind me, his footsteps unhurried, like he’s debating whether to call my name.

“Wait” Matt’s voice finally breaks the silence, and I feel his presence closer than I expected. “Can we talk?”

I let out a slow breath before turning to face him, the front door slightly open behind me. His eyes search mine, like he’s trying to figure out where my head is at.

“Talk about what, Matt?” My voice is steady, but I can feel the exhaustion creeping in.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking almost.. nervous? “About this. About everything.”

“I’m not too sure what there is to talk about” I say, my voice surprisingly steady. “I’ve seen it all. I saw Christina in your bed. I saw how she was with you tonight.”

Matt’s face falls, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but I don’t let him.

“And now, what? You think you can stand here and make some sorry excuse for your actions? Do you even realize how disrespectful that is?” My voice rises slightly, frustration taking over. “You can’t just act like nothing happened, Matt. You don’t get to do that.”

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, it’s a bit too late for that now.” I say, my voice sharp.

"I’m sorry." he mutters.

I let out a short laugh. "Yeah. So am I.”

Matt stands there looking at me, almost confused.

“I'm sorry I let you play with me for so long. Sorry I let you in, that I actually believed there was something real between us. But it’s clear now, isn’t it? Whatever tension was there, it was only ever sexual for you."

Matt steps forward, opening his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

"So what now?" I snap, my voice shaking with anger. "What’s your next move? You feel bad for how you’ve treated me, so you’ll do what? Buy me flowers? But never actually give them to me? Did you ever track down Christina’s ex to get her locket back too? Or was that just a special little stunt for me?"

I let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking my head. "And don’t you dare try to tell me you haven’t been with anyone else since that night in the house. Christina basically spelled out what happened in Vegas to me at the club.”

Then realisation hits me. “It makes sense to me now, the real reason you customised your jacket that way. You didn’t do it because you felt something for me. You did it so if the topic of her in Vegas came up, you had something to sway me from believing it, so you could keep stringing me along.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Can you please listen to me? I didn’t even know they were coming out here” he says quickly, almost desperately, like that one fact will make any of this better.

I scoff, shaking my head. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes a lot” he insists, stepping forward. “Chris was the one that brought them out here, he has a thing with Rachel and probably just-”

"-wants to smash?" I finish for him, my voice sharp.

"Yeah, Matt, I know. Just like you said before, that Chris only gave me a job because he wants to smash?" I tilt my head, watching as realization dawns on his face. "Yeah. I heard you when you said that."

Matt shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never meant that" he mutters. "I swear, I didn’t mean it like that."

"Oh really?" I fold my arms, my patience running dangerously thin. "How exactly did you mean it then, Matt?" My voice is sharp, no bullshit. "Because it sounded a lot like you were trying to discredit any of the work I do."

Matt exhales sharply, looking away. "It wasn’t about that, okay?" His voice is tight, like he’s struggling to find the right words. "Maybe I was jealous, maybe I was pissed off at the whole situation, maybe I just-" He stops himself, his jaw locking.

"Maybe you just what?" I push, my voice rising slightly.

His silence is louder than anything he could say. And then, it hits me.

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. "Oh my god. It was projection, wasn’t it?" I take a step closer, my words like a slap to the face. "You said Chris only gave me a job because he wanted to smash, but really, that was just you speaking for yourself. You only ever kept me around because that’s what you wanted."

I take a breath, my heart pounding. "And congratulations, Matt. You got it."

Matt’s face falls completely.

"And then you got it from her too, only a matter of hours later." My voice is laced with disgust, and I see the tears welling in Matt's eyes, but I don’t stop. "It’s obvious to me now, you never had feelings for me. You never cared."

I take another step closer, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve kept inside. "I know you saw me leave the club that night. I know you saw me walk out. And not once did you check on me. Not once did you care enough to see if I was okay. It was like, out of sight, out of mind. I disappeared, and you moved on like I was nothing."

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "And then you brought her back here, to the same villa I’m staying in, to rub it in my fucking face? Like this is some sick joke to you?" And then to keep doing it, over and over again, like it wasn’t enough to break me once?" My voice shakes, but not from weakness, from the sheer weight of the betrayal burning inside me. "You didn’t just move on, Matt. You made sure I saw it. You made sure I felt it. Like twisting the knife wasn’t enough, you had to keep pushing it in, again and again."

I shake my head, my breathing uneven. "And for what? To prove a point? To get back at me for something you thought I’ve done? Or was it just fun for you? To watch me fall apart while you played pretend with her?"

Matt’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, to defend himself, but I cut him off before he can even try. "No. Don’t. Because there’s nothing you can say that will make this okay. Nothing you can do that will undo the fact that you chose this. You chose to hurt me. And I’m fucking done." I spit, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve held back.

"Because all you’ve ever done is choose to hurt me. Over and over again, like it’s second nature to you." I stop for a second to catch my breath, realising how pointless this all is. "I don’t even understand why you’re standing in front of me right now, when what you want is down at the bar with everyone else. Stop bothering me, and go back down there and get it."

Matt looks at me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, like he wants to argue. Like he wants to fight his case. But he doesn’t get to, not now. Not after everything.

"In fact" I breathe out a bitter laugh, shaking my head, "don’t ever think of speaking to me again. Because it’s clear now, Matt, we were always better off when we didn’t speak. When we just ignored each other. Maybe that’s what we should’ve stayed."

My heart is hammering in my chest, my entire body shaking from the adrenaline coursing through me.

I turn around and storm into the villa, slamming the door so hard behind me that the walls seem to shake with the force of it. But he doesn’t follow. He doesn’t even try. Probably heading straight back down to the bar to get exactly what he wants. What he’s always wanted.

My blood is boiling as I march into my room, every step fueled by the sheer rage burning inside me. I feel like a bull, seeing red, ready to destroy everything in my path. But I don’t, because I don’t have time to waste on any of this anymore.

I grab my phone with trembling fingers, my vision blurring from unshed tears as I unlock it.

I can’t stay here.

I refuse.

I pull up the American Airlines website, my breathing heavy, my chest rising and falling too fast. I don’t even hesitate as I search for the first available flight back home.

The sooner, the better.

And when I find one, first thing tomorrow morning, I don’t even think twice. I press confirm before I can second guess myself, before the pain can catch up with me.

I’m leaving.

I’m done.

a/n : OOOOF. thats gotta sting.

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

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tortureddarkstar · 6 months ago

Text

✩ IN BLOOM

AND HE LIKES TO SING ALONG / / AND HE LIKES TO SHOOT HIS GUN

DEAN WINCHESTER X F!READER

18+ CONTENT. MINORS DNI.

summary: dean teaches you how to shoot a gun. amongst other things.

inspired by: in bloom- nirvana

this was a very much ‘fine i’ll do it myself’ kinda feat. not enough dean fics out there esp since its spn season. this is also my tumblr debut x

lots of smut, not a lot of plot. hope u like x

“hey, focus.”

your attention snapped back to the ‘x’ dean had etched into a tree.

dean had his arms around you, thick hands encompassing yours which aimed his white colt at dean’s makeshift target.

“hm? oh, sorry.” you blinked your eyes a few times, drawing in on the target.

“no. not ‘sorry’. focus.” he grunted in your ear. “sure thing you can use a knife, sweetheart, but what happens when you’re too far? y’gonna throw your knife at a ghost?”

“well that’s why i have you and sammy.” you shrugged, to which earned you a jab in the back from dean.

“keep your back straight.” dean rumbled, eyes rolling at your overt smartness.

“ow.”

“yeah, you’re gonna feel an ‘ow’ when you’ve got claws down your body. back straight, eyes on the target.” you took note of how his father’s drill training peeked through his orders to you, even after all these years.

you huffed, fixing your posture and lining up dean’s colt.

there was something twisted about such a pure, little thing using dean’s favoured weapon.

not only had he used it on countless demons, ghosts, werewolves- heck people too. but you remembered the first time time he had used it on you.

on a hunt, not too long ago, he caught you staring a little too mindlessly towards him.

well, not towards him. more so the colt.

and when you had told him later that night that you wanted him to use it on you, he seemed, at the time, a little taken aback, hesitant even.

however, you watched, writhing under him, as that hesitance turned into malevolence and instead of giving himself to you that night, he gave you only his gun.

“come on baby, work for it.” dean coaxed, admiring your contorted face and your wanton whimpers.

“you gonna shoot that anytime soon?”

fuck, now you were wet.

“sorry, m’just distracted.” you mumbled, furrowing your brows, determined to actually shoot now. “focusing now.”

dean was still behind you, heavy grip on your elbows, heavy breath in your ears.

yeah we’ll see about focusing.

dean had no intention to distract you by any means, in fact it was his idea for you to learn how to use a gun- “sam and i aren’t always gonna be there. and i don’t plan on you leaving anytime soon either.”

but you were taking way too long trying to shoot a target less than six feet from you, and dean never has any objections to a bit of fun.

he watched as your index finger finally began to apply pressure over the trigger. his mind calculating when exactly to introduce some fun into this little training session.

dean slowly took his hands off yours, letting it snake down to rest on your waist.

“dean, what are you doing?” your voice had already begun to shake, the weight of the colt feeling heavier as your palms started sweating.

“nothin’. focus.” dean dismissed, his hand traversing down, down, until he found the buttons on your jeans, toying with them until he hit the band of your panties.

“dean.” there was no way you were concentrating at all on that tree anymore.

“let’s play a little game, huh? the closer you are to the target, the closer i get to where you really want me.” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear. “that sound fair, sweets?”

instead of answering, you pulled the trigger, the bullet burning a hole in the tree 20 centimetres above from where you wanted it to go.

“that a yes, huh?” he grunted in your ear “but, i said the target, baby.”

“dean.. please.” you huffed out, eyes rolling as your head fell back onto his shoulder, the gun almost slipping out of your hands.

“monsters are more distracting. shoot. right in the middle, i know you can do it baby, come on.” dean’s voice was gruff in your ear, sending an entire wave of shivers down your spine.

you glanced down as his hand crept closer to where you craved him, edging around your clit, but never touching it.

inhaling, you straightened your back, shook away the shivers, and regained your grip on his colt.

“that’s a girl.” dean whispered, nipping your earlobe before granting you a sickly sweet kiss, stark in contrast to the current situation. he felt you whimper into the kiss before pulling away, not yet granting you any such reward.

this time you tried not to think as hard. yes thinking too hard would send you over the edge, resulting in a punishment from dean, but you also tried to rationalise- you wouldn’t be thinking too much if you were being chased by a demon, right?

the second shot was much better and much closer, not smack in the middle like he wanted but close enough for dean to finally reward you with attention to your aching clit.

“come on baby, third times the charm.” now dean was moving his right hand from your right elbow, allowing it to slip under your shirt and rest upon your left tit.

“s’too much, dean. please.” he could tell from the whiny tone of your voice that you had begun to tear up.

oh, he’d give you something to cry about.

without warning, he stuck his middle finger into you, letting the heel of his palm push against your core.

“see how nice i am? hmm?” he grunted, digging his finger and palm into you. “now, you make that shot and i’ll give you what you want. if not, all you’ll have tonight is that there colt.”

now that drew a moan out of you.

“we’ve a deal, pretty girl?” dean nosed at the side of your face, grinning slightly at your torment.

nothing but a pathetic hum, bordering a grumble, came out.

a mumble of ‘good girl’ came out of his mouth and into your hair as he resumed his movements inside.

just like the previous two times, you repeated your actions. straight back, tight grip. and just like the last time, you tried your damndest to clear your mind. even though it was harder now with his finger in you, moving with more fervour and more dexterity.

you bit your lip in both concentration and suppression of a throaty moan. your finger, once again, gripped the trigger as you pressed down, your eyes following the bullet as it hit the target.

smack. in. the. middle.

you began smiling but your celebration was cut short by dean finally moving as fast as you wanted, adding another finger, just as you wanted and finally, turning you around so he could kiss you. just as you wanted. finally making you cum, just as you wanted.

“atta girl. knew you could do it. baby just needed a bit of encouragement, huh?” dean goaded. through your concentration and your post-orgasmic haze, you hadn’t noticed that dean had taken himself out of his confines, allowing you to feel just how hard he was.

with as much might your jelly-legs could muster, you jumped onto him, caging him as you pushed him backwards on the hood of his impala parked conveniently behind you.

“you want this, baby? want me to fuck you on my car?” he tugged your head back by your hair to watch your reply- jaw slack with a hastened nod and moan. “dirty girl.”

you let his mouth envelop yours before he spun you both around, setting your back onto the car. from here, you could see just how desperate you were for him, a collection of your juices had darkened his boxers, a little on his open fly, catching the light of the cloudy sun.

you carried on staring, eyes glazing over as he lined himself up with your entrance, that beautiful sting electrifying as he settled deep into you.

“dean.” you whined. your hands had moved from holding his midsection to cradling his face as your nails dug into his neck, bringing him into a kiss that was purely teeth and tongue, encouragement for him to keep moving.

a few, albeit long, minutes pass of dean rocking in and out, in and out of you with the occasional kiss or tug at each others hair, all the while your moans of his name and other incoherencies fill the air of the murky woodland dean had sought out for your ‘lesson’.

oh what a lesson this was.

dean found himself moving faster now, his hands and hips most likely bruising you. he would be lying if he said that’s not what he wanted. swallowing one of your breathy moans once again, his thumb moved to your clit, bringing you to the edge right next to him.

the twittering of crows were now drowned out by mumbles of ‘dean’, ‘so good’ and other mismatched phrases, stark in contrast to your usual eloquence.

“come on baby, cum with me. come on.” dean goaded, his thrusts getting harsher as his words got more strained.

obedient as always, you took the thumb of the hand cradling your head into your mouth, sucking, licking, biting on it as your brow-bone tilted up- both signs of your ever-approaching orgasm.

soon enough, ramblings of heated compliments were overtook by the increasing pitch and tone of moans, the last articulate sentence being dean’s- a simple warning of his seed spilling into you falling from his pout lips, enough to push you over the edge you’d been teetering on for the past ten minutes.

ever eager to please, you let go.

spasm after spasm washed over you as dean watched from above, cheshire cat-smile across his face as he watched yours contort when he pulled out to stand and admire his handiwork.

he waited and watched as you sat up on the impala, leaning on your hands. dean revelled in the way your hair tangled, your tits spilling from the tank you wore, matching the dark-wash jeans that had bunched up around your knees.

you were in bloom. and oh how he basked in it.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural #fanfic #dean x reader #dean supernatural #dean winchester x you #jensen ackles #tortureddarkstar #✩ — enter: dean winchester

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jeoncopi · 7 months ago

Text

[1] EAGER DAYS | JJK

are you ready to witness what's like to have a very yearning, domestically soft, vulnerable, silly yet playful and hot military boyfriend?

welcome to military jungkook's episodes!

—this entire series are based during jungkook's current state. as I'll be writing with each irl update. so this series might last until jungkook's finally free (Imao).

IMPORTANT: each episode won't be necessarily correlated to one another but some episodes could have light references to previous actions, feelings or situations.

BE AWARE OF: 18+ CONTENT.

pair: jungkook x reader

word count: 1.1k

what’s in here?: cutely and reassuring banter.

[more espisodes]

EPISODE 1. “piercings? OUT!”

It’s early in the morning, you both haven’t eat.

Jungkook wakes up first, just like he has been doing it for a couple of days as he said that everything is for him to be able to accustom and get ready for his future new morning routine.

he’s been already so dedicated, using eunwoo’s gifted military watch too. — he didn’t liked thinking too much about going there but somehow, he had to if he wanted to mentally prepare. mostly when he really, really didn’t wanted to go.

he sighs as he’s brushing his teeth. so sleepy..

“okay, I’ll take them out now.” he murmurs to himself as he open his mouth, slender fingers touching his lips as he removes one of his lip piercings. “okay.. there’s one.” continuing by repeating the same process for the other one. “and.. last one.”

he takes a good look at himself in the mirror. fingers slightly rubbing his bottom lip. ‘the scar doesn’t look too bad’. he pushes the inside of his bottom lip with his tongue, having a better look at the size of the little holes. ‘yep, not too bad.’

stepping out of the bathroom as soon as he heards a sound that looks like it’s coming from the kitchen, ‘babe’. crosses his mind.

all he can see is your back as soon as you ask, “all good?” taking several steps closer to him when your body finally turns to face him and he could already get a whiff of the very tempting leftover pizza from last night that you were already heating. the smell quickly floating all over the place.

“yeah,” he responds without further ado.

your hands travel over his face into a cup as you inspected his face, slightly moving it from side to side. “your skin has gotten better.” you smile. “oh.” pausing, you start caressing your anular finger onto his bottom lip.

“oh.” he mimics your response in agreement. bambi eyes only examinating your every facial expression while yours are just so focused on his lips.

“it’s not that bad..” reassuring him, you mutter more to yourself but jungkook can still heard you very clearly.

“I thought the same.” barely managing to talk since you keep looking and touching his lips.

“I like it though.” leaving a peck on his lips. “you look sort of weird though.” you chuckle.

he does too. a sort of shy smile drawing his lips as he rubs the back of his head with his left arm, feeling a bit embarrassed without one solid reason. “it’s been a while..”

you then mirror him with a warm smile. “it really has been..” you pause. “it sort of looks like a vampire has now bitten your lip though..” you joke. “should I be jealous?” arching one eyebrow in a funny way.

jungkook laugh. “you’re so obsessed with vampires, I’m telling you.” while taking your hands off his face. he places them behind your back as he hugs you. sort of trapping you into his big body. snuggling his face into your neck sniffing you as if he was a dog and it makes you laugh.

“leave me alone!” raising your voice in between laughs. you finally detached your body from his. “you’re crazy.”

he boyishly smiles, crossing both his arms on his chest as he quickly point his chin up when he says, “you smell good.” with the tone of his voice being very playful and sultry..

he continues, this time leaning majority of his weight onto the dinner table with his right hand while his left one anxiously caresses one side of his neck, very slowly. “I’m..” he pauses. “..kinda scared of shaving my entire hair, if I’m being honest.” he confesses. “this is just step one,” referring to his piercings. “but step two..”

you listen as the pizza is finally heated. placing them with both plates on the table. your gaze lingering at him as you both comfortably seat.

“it’s hard” you respond, sympathizing with him.

“It is.” he re-affirms. “but it’s just hair, right?”

“eung. it’s not like you have a choice anyways..”

“wow. you really do help.” he jokes around at your unhelpful answer. he chuckles about it as soon as he sees your worried face. “all good babe.” being light hearted with a soft smile, he continues. “I do know.” answering to you. then he breathes, “I’m thinking of doing it myself.”

you didn’t say a thing for a few seconds. “I wouldn’t be surprised to be honest.”

he chuckles. “I am that predictable?”

“I mean.. sometimes.” you tease.

jungkook rolls his eyes. “ha.” he tsk with a bitter smirk on his lips. it makes you laugh.

“too lazy to book a date for it?” you genuinely ask, referring to the hair salon.

“mm.. not really. I just thought that I won’t ever have this opportunity ever again, you know?” he pauses. “it’s not like I could go bald just any other day.” he chuckles.

agreeing with him, “you’re right.” you respond. “I’ve heard that they shave it for you once you’re there so..” he repeatedly nods his head very cutely, making his whole luscious hair bounce.

you smile. he’s so cute.

“but I’ve also heard that you can continuing shaving your hair as long as you’re there, you know?”

jungkook laughs at your words. “babe, do you really think I’ll do this TWICE?” as his hand dramatically points at his chest when he speaks. making you both laugh.

“I’ll leave my short hair if that’s the case, but I won’t give being bald a second chance..”

“why? you don’t even know if you’ll look bad.” you pause. “maybe it’s refreshing, you’ll never know.” you tease, “maybe you’ll fall in love with your bald head, life can bring many surprises.”

jungkook only sides eyed you while he takes a bite at his pizza slice. “tsk. no.” cheeks full. “I like my hair the way it is, thanks.”

making you laugh. “okay then.” pausing. “given this situation, I’ll trust your skills.” doing a fake half reverence to him with your pizza as you take a bite.

“you should trust me!” cutely demanding, he says with a pout on his lips.

you laugh again. “I said I do!”

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marysfics · 6 months ago

Text

In the Silence of the Night

You’ve noticed that your girlfriend has been withdrawing a bit lately due to her busy work schedule. You really need her help with your medical injections, but you don’t want to add to her stress. You’ve tried doing it yourself, but it’s been more challenging than you thought it would be.

Angst, Needles, Fluff, Happy Ending

It was nearing 8 PM when you heard the front door finally creak open. You didn’t need to check to know it was Alexia. The sound of her duffel bag hitting the floor with a soft thud, followed by the weary sigh she let out, told you everything you needed to know. She’d had another long, draining day at the club, just like she had the day before… and the day before that.

You lifted your head slightly from where you were curled up on the couch, trying to suppress the flicker of hope that had bubbled in your chest all day. That small, irrational hope that maybe tonight she’d come in, smile, and ask how you were doing. Maybe she’d sit next to you, brush a kiss across your forehead, and offer to help with your injection like she always used to. But the moment was fleeting as soon as she stepped inside.

Without even looking your way, Alexia walked past the living room, her footsteps heavy as they disappeared down the hallway. "I’m just going to shower," she mumbled in your direction, the exhaustion dripping from her voice like water from a leaking tap. "I’ll be quick, I promise."

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You watched her disappear around the corner, the hum of the bathroom light flicking on soon after. And just like that, the bubble of anticipation burst, leaving nothing but a sinking weight in your stomach.

She didn’t ask how your day was. Not anymore.

Your gaze dropped to the small black case sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You stared at it for a moment, your throat tightening. The case held the injections—your injections��the ones you’d always relied on Alexia to help you with. It had become a kind of routine between the two of you, an unspoken pact of support and care. You hated needles, but when she was the one doing it, it didn’t seem so bad. You always felt safe when she was by your side.

But lately… things had changed. She had changed.

You bit your lip, drawing in a shaky breath. You understood that she was busy. You really did. Being captain came with more responsibilities, and there were new players to help, more training sessions to oversee, more late-night meetings, more everything. You could see how much it weighed on her. And you didn’t want to be another burden.

Still, it stung. It stung that, even when she was finally home, she seemed distant, distracted. It stung that she didn’t seem to notice how much you’d been struggling, even though the signs were all there, clear as day. She used to notice everything. Now, she barely noticed you at all.

I’ll talk to her tonight, you told yourself, trying to push back the rising tide of frustration and doubt. She’s just tired. It’s not her fault. She’ll listen.

But as the minutes passed and the steady hum of the shower continued to echo through the walls, the doubt began to creep in. The words you’d been rehearsing in your head all day started to feel inadequate, too small for the growing gap between you. What if she brushed it off again? What if she said she didn’t have time?

You pressed your hands into your lap, your fingers twisting together nervously. The thought of doing the injection on your own tonight filled you with a quiet, gnawing dread. You could do it. You should be able to do it, after all these years. But the idea of going through the familiar process without her there, without her steady hands and calming presence, made your chest feel tight.

You heard the water stop, the shower shutting off with a quick squeak of the faucet, and moments later, the sound of Alexia padding back down the hallway reached your ears. She didn’t stop this time either—just a quick, tired, "I’ll be in bed," tossed over her shoulder as she headed straight to the bedroom.

You sat there for a long time after she disappeared. Long enough for the apartment to fall into a deep silence, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The case still sat on the table, staring back at you, waiting.

It wasn’t just the injection. It wasn’t just about the needle piercing your skin, or the act itself. It was what it represented. It was about the growing distance between the two of you, the way it felt like you were slipping further and further apart with each passing day. You didn’t want to feel like you were losing her, but you did. And what scared you most was the thought that she didn’t even realize it.

You rubbed your palms over your face, trying to shake the thoughts away. Maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe, if you waited long enough, Alexia would come back out, sit beside you, and everything would go back to how it used to be. You could hear her voice in your head, soothing and gentle: I’m here, cariño. I’m always here.

But tonight, she wasn’t.

And that thought was enough to leave you sitting in silence, the weight of the injection case heavier than it had ever been.

You sat there for what felt like an eternity, the silence in the apartment growing heavier with each passing moment. Finally, with a resigned sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and walked toward the bedroom. The weight of the black case felt like an anchor dragging behind you, each step a reminder of the challenge ahead.

When you entered the bedroom, the dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over Alexia, who was already half-buried under the covers. Her eyes were closed, her breathing steady, and for a moment, you hesitated. But the ache in your chest pushed you forward. You needed to talk to her. You needed her help.

You approached the bed slowly, the quiet creak of the floorboards the only sound in the otherwise still room. “Alexia,” you said softly, trying to sound as calm as possible. “Can we talk for a second?”

Alexia stirred, blinking sleepily as she turned toward you. She looked up, her expression a mix of confusion and fatigue. Without waiting for a full response, she leaned in and pressed a quick, tender kiss to your lips. The gesture was familiar and comforting, but it felt rushed, almost automatic.

“Sorry, cariño,” she murmured against your lips, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so tired. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The issue was complicated, and you were too weary to fight for your point. You tried to start again, but your voice was barely a murmur, lost amidst the tangled blankets and Alexia’s already retreating sleep.

“Um… I just—” You tried to say, but she had already turned her back slightly, clearly ready to drift off again. “I need your help with…”

But the words wouldn’t come. The term injection seemed to lodge itself in your throat, too difficult to utter. Instead, you stood there feeling small and overwhelmed, the conversation slipping through your fingers like sand.

You sighed deeply, retreating from the bed. The small black case on the coffee table in the living room seemed to mock you now. The thought of trying to manage it yourself filled you with a mix of determination and dread. You had no choice. You needed to handle this on your own.

Returning to the living room, you took a deep breath and retrieved the case. Your hands were trembling as you set it up, the familiar steps feeling foreign and daunting without Alexia’s calming presence. You tried to remember each part of the process, focusing intently as you prepared the syringe.

The first needle prick was sharp and uncomfortable. You winced, struggling to keep your hand steady. The injection was awkward, and you knew it wasn’t going in smoothly. The needle wobbled, and you felt a sharp sting that was far more intense than usual.

When you finally finished, you pulled the needle out, but the skin around the injection site felt sore and swollen. The sensation of an impending bruise began to settle in. You looked at the result, the slight redness and unevenness telling you that it hadn’t gone as smoothly as it should have.

You felt a surge of frustration and sadness. The injection was done, but it had left more than just a physical mark. The emotional weight of it all—trying to manage alone, the growing distance between you and Alexia, the unspoken words—was almost too much to bear.

Sitting down on the edge of the couch, you held your arm and looked around the room, feeling an overwhelming sense of loneliness. You had managed to do it, but it was clear that things needed to change. You needed more than just a quick kiss and a promise to talk tomorrow. You needed to find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between you.

With a heavy heart and a painful bruise forming, you lay down on the couch, trying to push aside the frustration and hurt. As you stared at the ceiling, the quiet of the apartment felt like an echo of your inner turmoil. You were left alone with your thoughts, the ache of the day settling deep into your bones.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the curtains in a hazy, indifferent glow. You woke up to find Alexia already up and moving around the apartment, her movements quick and purposeful. It was clear she had another busy day ahead.

You stretched out beneath the covers, trying to muster the energy to join her. As she prepared to leave, you rolled over and reached out for her, hoping to get a few more moments of closeness. “Alexia,” you murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. “Can we—”

She turned to you, her eyes tired but focused. She gave you a faint, distracted smile. “I’m sorry, cariño, but I really need to get going. The team has an early meeting today.”

You tried to pull her closer, wanting to cuddle up to her before she left, but she gently but firmly stepped back. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later, okay?” Her tone was soft but final, and before you could say another word, she was out the door.

You watched her go, feeling a familiar pang of loneliness. It wasn’t that you were trying to be clingy; you just needed more connection, more reassurance. But it seemed like every attempt to bridge the gap was met with increasing distance.

As the day dragged on, you found yourself increasingly withdrawn. You tried to distract yourself with small tasks, but the weight of the previous night and the ongoing tension with Alexia hung over you like a dark cloud. By evening, the thought of going to bed early to escape the pain seemed like the best option.

However, the reminder of your injection brought you back to reality. The small black case sat on the coffee table, taunting you with its presence. You had hoped Alexia would be home in time to help you, but she had texted you a brief message around 7 PM—“Hey, still at the club. Things are running behind. I’ll be home late. Miss you.”

You stared at the screen, feeling a mixture of frustration and sadness. You missed her too, but the text felt impersonal compared to the support you really needed. You glanced at the clock. It was getting late, and you knew you couldn’t put off the injection any longer.

You tried to psych yourself up, determined to handle it alone this time. But as you fumbled with the needle and the syringe, the anxiety and discomfort from the previous attempt came rushing back. Your hands shook uncontrollably, and your attempts at administering the injection were clumsy and painful.

After several failed attempts and tears of frustration, you felt a growing sense of despair. You couldn’t do it. The pain was too much, and the thought of another bruise or worse was overwhelming. You sat on the couch, feeling defeated and helpless.

In a moment of desperation, you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you found Alba’s number. Your fingers hovered over the screen, and then you pressed the call button. The phone rang, and as you listened to it ring, you felt a lump forming in your throat.

“Hello?” Alba’s voice answered, calm and soothing.

“It’s me,” you said, your voice trembling. “I—I need help. I can’t do it. I’m so sorry to call you, but—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Alba interrupted gently. “I’m on my way.”

When Alba arrived, she looked at you with a mix of worry and determination. You led her to the living room, where the black injection case was waiting on the coffee table. Her eyes fell on your bruised arm, and she winced.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with concern.

“I tried to do it myself,” you said, your voice trembling. “It didn’t go well. I know it’s not right, but Alexia’s been so busy, and I didn’t want to bother her.”

Alba nodded, her expression resolute. “Alright, let’s figure this out. I’ve never done this before, but we’ll get through it.”

You took a deep breath, trying to remember how Alexia used to do it. “Okay, so you need to… first, clean the area with an alcohol swab. And then you have to make sure the needle is ready, and…”

Your words came out in a rush, filled with a mix of anxiety and desperation. Alba listened carefully, trying to follow your instructions as best as she could. You could hear her taking deep breaths, her voice steady despite the situation.

“Alright, I’ve got the swab and the syringe,” Alba said, her tone more confident now. “Just talk me through the rest.”

As you guided her, you felt a mixture of relief and tension. Alba was doing her best to stay calm, but you could hear the slight tremor in her voice. It was evident she was nervous, but she was trying not to let it show.

“You’ve got this,” you said softly, trying to reassure both her and yourself. “Just remember to be gentle and to get it in quickly.”

Alba nodded, her hands steadying as she prepared the needle. “Okay, I think I’m ready.”

You guided her through the final steps, your heart racing with every movement. When she finally managed to complete the injection, you let out a shaky breath, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing.

As Alba finished the injection, you let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in your shoulders slowly begin to ease. She gave you a reassuring smile before heading out, promising to check in later. You sank into the couch, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. Despite the relief from the injection, the emotional strain was heavy.

The weight of it all was too much. You wrapped yourself in a blanket and drifted off to sleep on the couch, hoping that tomorrow would bring some clarity and resolution.

A few hours later, the soft click of the front door woke you. You stirred, groggy and disoriented, as the familiar sound of Alexia’s footsteps filled the apartment. She must have come in quietly to avoid disturbing you. You squinted, struggling to sit up as she entered the living room.

Alexia paused when she saw you on the couch, her eyes immediately landing on the bruise on your arm. Her expression shifted from tiredness to concern as she approached you. “Hey,” she said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep here.”

You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the lingering fog of sleep. “Yeah, it’s been a rough day.”

Alexia’s gaze flicked to the black case on the coffee table, the remnants of Alba’s visit still visible. It was then that a flicker of realization crossed her face. Her shoulders sagged slightly as she took in the situation—the injection kit, the bruise on your arm, the signs of distress etched into your features.

“Oh dios mio,” she murmured, her voice breaking with a mix of guilt and worry. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize…”

Her hand reached out to gently touch your arm, and the softness of her touch was both comforting and heartbreaking. “I should have been here for you. I didn’t know it was this bad.”

You looked up at her, your eyes filled with a mix of relief and lingering hurt. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been so busy, and I thought… I thought I could manage on my own.”

Alexia shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “No, you shouldn’t have had to. I should have been paying attention. I should have been here.”

As the days passed, the efforts Alexia made to mend the rift between you were deeply moving. The grand gestures, the thoughtful surprises, and the sincere apologies helped to heal some of the wounds, but rebuilding trust was a journey that needed both time and patience.

You had forgiven her. The love you felt for her hadn't wavered; it was simply shadowed by the hurt of her absence and the loneliness you had felt. Forgiveness was a step forward, but you knew that true healing required more than just saying the words. It meant working together to rebuild the trust that had been fractured.

You began to talk openly about your feelings, your fears, and your needs. It was a new kind of dialogue for both of you, one that involved vulnerability and honesty. Alexia listened with an open heart, her understanding growing with each conversation. You both acknowledged that communication had faltered, but you were committed to changing that.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, you found a moment of clarity. “Alexia,” you said softly, “I’ve forgiven you, but it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust. I need us to keep working on this, to communicate better and to be there for each other.”

Alexia nodded, her eyes filled with both sadness and determination. “I understand. I’m committed to working on this with you. I want to make things right, and I want us to be stronger than before.”

Her words were a balm to your wounded heart. The sincerity in her voice and the effort she was putting into making things right made a world of difference. You could see how much she wanted to be the partner you deserved, and that gave you hope for the future.

That night, as you lay in bed, Alexia held you close. The warmth of her embrace was a reminder of how much she cared, and it seemed to envelop you both in a cocoon of love and safety. You felt her breathing become uneven, and when you looked up, you saw tears glistening in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m so grateful that you still choose me, that you’re willing to work through this with me.”

Her tears fell softly onto your shoulder as she held you tightly, her emotion raw and genuine. You could feel the weight of her remorse and her overwhelming love. The sight of her crying, holding you with such deep gratitude, was both heartbreaking and reassuring.

“You’re my everything,” she continued, her voice cracking. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you for giving us a chance, for choosing to be with me despite everything.”

You held her tightly, feeling her tears mix with your own. “We’ll get through this together,” you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. “I believe in us, and I believe in our future.”

In that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the pain of the past began to dissolve. The trust that needed rebuilding was a journey, but you both knew that with love, effort, and open communication, you could create a stronger, more resilient bond. Alexia’s overwhelming love and gratitude were a testament to the depth of her feelings, and it filled you with a renewed sense of hope and commitment for the days ahead.

#woso x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas fanfic #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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becomingmina · 1 year ago

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How they would react to Y/N being clumsy/ embarrassed during... smut w/ SKZ hyung line 18+ only mdni.

How they would react to Y/N being clumsy/ embarrassed during sex w/ hyung line:

Bang Chan/Chris:

“Channie..” you say climbing onto your boyfriend’s lap.

He was sat on the couch, definitely teasing you by the way he is all spread out - legs wide apart, the tent in his sweats visibly on display for you. It was so welcoming, so perfect for you to sit on.

You start to press little pretty kisses to his face, showering him with affection but it soon turns into a heated make out session. His big hands are now gripping your hips helping you hump his erection.

You wanted more, you needed him inside you and the only way you were able to get what you want is if you cum first desperately like this.

You gripped his shoulders, closing your eyes as you continue to rub against him, getting closer to your climax. You lean back as you feel your orgasm approaching. It hit you hard, your fingers left dents his skin as your hips move rapidly to extend your wave of pleasure.

“Careful!" Chan says as you lean back further, losing your balance. You were glad your boyfriend was sane, quickly grabbing your waist before you fell. Your arms quickly wrapped around his shoulder as you scared yourself.

You sat in silence, hiding your face in his neck in embarrassment. He lightly chuckles to himself before nudging you to look up at him.

“Tell me what's going on in here? My dumb little girl,” he asks as he taps your head with his finger.

“I— um,” you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“You climbed on me remember?”

“I thought we were in the bed.. and you usually get on top after so I leaned back.. naturally and.. I don’t want to talk about it,” you stuttered closing your eyes so you don’t witness him laughing.

“Don’t be embarrassed. You are so cute,” he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Here let me take care of you, baby girl,” he shuffled about on the couch so he can ace you in your back, ripping your shorts off you.

Lee Minho/ Lee Know:

“My body is covered in marks,” he chuckles softly as you continue to suck lightly at his skin.

There were already hickeys scattered around his chest, his neck, all over his body. There was way too many to count with one hand but you couldn’t stop. He tasted way too addictive, you were hooked.

“God, you’re so horny,” he scoffed, as his hands come to help guide your hips.

You don’t know what happened but it flipped a switch in you, you were desperate to cum now. Your lips move from his collarbone to latch onto the skin of his neck, right there his pulse was.

You start to feel your orgasm approaching and you lightly sink your teeth into his skin.

"Owww..." you heard Minho mumbles quietly but you don’t stop. Instead you have the urge to use more force, biting down on his skin as you cum hard.

“Baby! Shit—” you hear him suck in a sharp breathe and his hands powerfully halts your hips. You finally pull away, sitting up as you come to realise what you had just done.

"Tsk!” He click his tongue, one hand coming up to apply pressure on the area you just bit. “Kitten you're going to draw my blood one day,” he says sternly, shooting his dark eyes up at you.

“I'm sorry,” your eyes start to fill with tears at his tone. You get off him and pull him to he sit up. Your hand comes up ontop of his adding a little more force, trying to soothe the sting. “Are you okay Min?” You felt so guilty you hurting him.

“You hurt me!” he hates to lash out like this but the pain was still there, it hurt him a lot.

“I’m sorry Min. I’m sorry. I’ll get some ice,” you couldn’t even look him in the eye, jumping off the bed but he stopped you.

He feels bad at your reaction, he knows you it was an accident. You were never this clumsy in bed and maybe your pleasure just got the best of you.

“Next time be careful, okay?” He says gently to reassure you, pulling back on top of him. “Did you cum though, kitten?”

You nod with pink cheeks, feeling fucking guilty.

“I didn’t though,” he smirked. You know the perfect way to make up for it.

Seo Changbin:

“You’re doing do well,” Changbin praises you as you ride him.

You usually don’t top, only because you want to be his little pillow princess and also because Changbin was a freak in bed. You much rather let him have his way with you since he was so good at it.

But today he made it a big issue wanting to see your boobs jiggle as you bounce on him. As embarrassed as it is for you to top, you can never say no to your sweet boyfriend.

Your legs were aching now, you’ve tried multiple positions now but he hadn’t cum yet. You kept going, trying your hardest to keep it up but you were exhausted, you were sweaty. The heat on this Sunday afternoon was extremely intense as well making you dizzy. Your hips start to slow down and Changbin notices your disorientation state as you shut your eyes.

“Hey hey hey baby?” He says sitting up to hold you as you fall forwards onto him head hitting his shoulder. You were out. He grasped your face, tapping your cheeks to wake you up.

You opened your eyes and realised what you had done. You passed out while riding you boyfriend, how embarrassing.

“Hey? You okay?” Changbin combs through your hair but you don’t answer him, you were too embarrassed. “Why didn’t you stop?”

“I wanted you to cum first,” you replied, diverting your eyes somewhere else.

“Silly girl,” he giggles before lifting you by your waist from him. “Lay here, I’ll get you some water,” you lie on the bed as per his instructions but then turn on your stomach, burying your face in the bed letting out a big sigh. Changbin smiles to himself before turning you back over.

“Don’t be shy, it’s okay baby,” he presses a kiss you your lips. “Let me get water and we can do whatever you want, okay?” He says looking down at his still hard on.

Hwang Hyunjin:

“You like that?” Hyunjin smirked at you, two fingers deep in you. You were on display for him, naked all spread out on his lap in the drivers seat of his car.

“If you keep going… I might squirt on you, baby boy..” you stuttered, trying your hardest to hold back.

“I want to see it,” he cheekily remarks, riling you up.

“Hyunjin.. ahh ahhh- it’s too much,” you cried as he continues to pump his fingers inside you. The noises your pussy was making was like music to him, he wanted to hear more. He couldn't forget your scent too, how it filled the space of his tiny car.

“Come on.. spray me with your juices.. Doll, you smell so yummy, wanna lap up all your wetness,” he eggs you on, his free hand comes to rub your clits as his finger that was inside you curled hitting the spot.

"Ahh—" you moaned as you feel your juice squirting out of you. Your eyes was close, you bit your bottom lip as pleasure washes over you.

You leaned back still squirting all over him as your elbow pressed the horn of his steering wheel scaring you. Your body buckles forward, shaking from your orgasm and the scare as you hold onto Hyunjin. The honk catches him off guard making him flustered but your reaction was too cute for him to react.

“Ha— fuck you’re so cute,” he says holding you tightly to ease your little heart. “Did you just scared yourself mid your orgasm?” You nod at his question, squirming in his arms.

“You’re so cute, thank god my dash cam recorded it,” he teased trying to lift your face up.

"No, Hyunjin, you can’t watch it back," you chuckle at your own reaction.

"Why? My pretty girl embarrassed?" he continues to taunt you.

"Don’t be, it was cute..." he presses a kiss to your forehead then examining the situation. His shirt, his seat and even part of his window was covered in your wetness. "Fuck we’re soaked, baby."

Maknae line here 💌

{Notes: Not proof read. Something quick before I head out. Makenae line coming up soon 🙂 I wanted to add some explicit pics from mangas but I thought it was too much. Do you guys want to see anime titties? lmao}

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benedictscanvas · 1 year ago

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pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes.

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso x reader

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sanguineterrain · 1 year ago

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in your hands | jason todd

Summary: Jason thinks he's too big to be loved. You show him that that's impossible.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings/tags: bathing together, sad jason, brief dissociation, i hc jason to have body dysmorphia and i wanted to explore that, non sexual nudity, washing your partner, bruce angst, hopeful ending.

A/N: as always, if you like this fic, tell me through comments and reblogs :)

the divider

Tonight, Jason comes home far away.

You clock it as soon as he walks in. He’s moving on autopilot: boots by the door, helmet on the shelf, gear in the closet. He washes his hands, hangs up his jacket, and then he stands at the doorway. And waits.

You’re never quite sure what he’s waiting for. But you know that he’ll stay stuck in his head if you don’t step in.

“Hey, baby,” you say, cupping his cheeks. “Hey. You wanna eat or clean up first?”

The change is instant. As soon as you touch him, Jason is there. You’ve never mentioned it to him. It frightens you too much to explore, knowing that you’re his tether. You don’t want to think about what that means, having the power to anchor a man who used to be dead.

He looks at you, meets your gaze head-on.

“Did I disappear?” he whispers.

“Little bit. It’s okay.”

You keep stroking his cheeks, avoiding his shaving cuts and the freshly split lip. There’s a bruise around his eye and on his temple.

“Wanna wash up,” he finally says, but his hands cling to your waist.

You pet the back of his neck. “Want me to go with you?”

“Please?” He glances at the kitchen. “But if you’re in the middle ‘f something, then—”

“No, Jay. C’mon.”

You take him by the hand and lead him to the bathroom. Jason undresses while you draw a bath. Soon the bathroom starts to fog up with steam. You pour in some Epsom salts for his muscle aches—you know he should soak more than he does.

You turn off the faucet. Jason is in his boxers, staring at himself in the mirror. He picks at his autopsy scar, presses the puckered white flesh until it turns red.

“Jay,” you say gently. “C’mere, honey.”

His hands drop to his sides. Jason goes to the bath, pulls off his underwear, and sinks into the water. It’s a generously-sized tub. Jason had gotten his old tub replaced for a larger one after you’d mentioned that you liked baths. Soon enough, you’d introduced him to the wonders of hot baths for his sore muscles.

Even with its size, Jason still has to bend his knees slightly to fit. He pushes himself up easily. A little water sloshes over and dampens the edge of your shirt. Jason curses.

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head.

“It’s okay, honey. You want me to come in?”

He nods. You pull off your shirt, then your pants and underwear. Jason folds in on himself to make room, but you stop him.

“I’ll just sit between your legs, Jay. No problem.”

You step into the bath. Jason holds your wrist so you can sit down without slipping. He stares at his hand on your arm after you’ve sat.

You reach over for a washcloth and pour a lightly-scented soap. You lather it up first, then rub it over his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. Jason is perfectly still.

“Can you lean over, baby? So I can get your back.”

Jason obediently leans over. You smile at him as he holds himself up with his core. You know Jason’s not just strong, that he’s agile too. He’s very good at wielding his body.

You wash his back. This close, you can see the contours of his muscles, how broad he is.

When you’re done, you wring the soap out of the cloth and cup water in your palms to rinse the suds off of his skin. You catch his gaze in the mirror across the tub. Jason turns his head.

“God, look at me. How are you not afraid every time I come stompin’ around?”

You stop pouring water and rest your hands on Jason’s biceps. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs. “I’m like a huge, fuckin’... monster. Too big, too loud. I’m—” He swallows, bows his head. “How can you look at me?”

“Jay, honey. You’re not a monster.”

“Bruce thinks so,” he whispers, and straightens. “He can barely look at me. Every time he does, ‘s like he doesn’t even recognize me.”

His hand quietly swishes through the water to claw at his autopsy scar.

“This is all I am. Just violence. ‘M too big for anything else.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and pull his head into your chest. Jason hugs you back. His shoulders begin to shake.

“You’re more than your body,” you say. “You’re more than what the Pit made you. What you were.”

He shakes and cries into your neck. “I was small. People loved me when I was small.”

You pick up his head. Jason’s eyes are thick with tears. You lean in and kiss his Cupid’s bow.

“I love you.” You brush away his tears with your lips. “I love you so much, Jay. That’ll never change.”

“Too big for it,” he rasps.

You shake your head. “No, Jaybird. You’re never too big to be loved.”

“I’m s-scary.”

You kiss his temple, rub between his shoulder blades. Jason clings tighter.

“You don’t scare me. You never have.”

He pulls you closer, so you’re chest-to-chest. You straddle his stomach with your legs and hug Jason as tightly as you can.

“I was good when I was small,” he says. “I don’t–I don’t know how to be good anymore. I wanna be good, I do. I don’t want Bruce to think I’m bad. I’m still good.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath. “Oh, Jay. Baby. You are good. You came back to make a change. You’ve always been good. You’ve got a good heart. Nothing’s going to change that. Bruce is stubborn and stuck in his head. But you’ll always be his son. And you’ll always have people who love you.”

“What if I’m not worth it?” he whispers. “What if I’m too lost?”

“Then I’ll go out and find you. And we’ll come home together,” you say. “You’ll always find your way back home.”

He smells like soap and Epsom salts. You kiss his autopsy scar. Jason shakes more.

“Let me wash your hair, baby,” you say.

He nods, tears on his lashes. You wet his hair and pour shampoo. You rest your lips on his cheek as you lather the shampoo, detangling tiny knots with your fingers. Jason bends at the waist so you can rinse off the soap with the faucet.

You tap his hip and Jason sits up. He slips his arms around you again and tucks his chin into your neck.

“Don’t let go,” he says, suddenly desperate. “Don’t–don’t let me go.”

“I won’t, Jay. I’m right here.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd angst #fluff #soft jason todd #batman fanfiction #dc fanficton

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choerypetal · 3 months ago

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A promise / Billy Hargrove

summary: From the moment Billy arrived at Hawkins, he couldn't help but be drawn to you. What started as a simple interest soon spiraled into a full-blown fixation. Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask you out on a date, but with all the rumors and suspicions swirling around him, the question remains: is it really worth the risk?

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any smol errors. also this a billy x reader!fem enjoy!

Billy’s gaze lingered as you strode out of the parking lot, books pressed tightly against your chest. The rhythmic click of your heels echoed against the concrete, mingling with the crisp whispers of an autumn breeze. Strands of your hair danced with the wind, and your lips, painted in a precise cherry-red hue, seemed to command attention. In that moment, Billy truly saw you—for him, you were no longer just a passing figure but a captivating new distraction.

In fact, there were times when, as soon as the bell rang, Billy would slip out early just for a fleeting glimpse of you in the crowd. The way your figure seemed to stand out among the other students, the effortless charm of your smile as you bid your friends goodbye—it all set his stomach into an uneasy churn. He knew it was only a matter of time before Max noticed her brother’s sudden change in behavior. Yet, deep down, a part of him didn’t care. Maybe he even wanted to be caught.

Every graduate received an invitation to a party, and Tina had taken it upon herself to throw a Halloween Bash. It surprised you, at first, that everyone—including the new kid—was invited. Then again, it didn’t. He was, after all, the talk of the town. It wasn’t long before you finally caught his name: Billy. Billy Hargrove.

You arrived at Tina’s house that evening, a few hours before the party officially began. She had insisted on helping you get ready, carefully setting your hair in rollers before cooling the curls. Offering her lipstick with a grin, she declared it the perfect shade to complement your look. As the finishing touch, she dusted a bit of powdered blush across your cheeks. When the rollers were removed, the volume from the mousse delivered its promise, your curls falling in perfect waves.

Tina gasped dramatically, her eyes lighting up. “You are definitely the bombshell of the night, Y/N.” Pulling you into a tight embrace, she let out a playful chuckle before pressing a kiss to your cheek, leaving behind an unmistakable smudge of her lipstick.

“Tina!” you protested, your lips forming a pout as you tried to assess the damage. “My makeup! Now I’ll have to rush to the bathroom to fix it.”

Tina rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “Oh, admit it—you wish it was Billy. Don’t lie, sweetheart.” Your brows knit together in confusion at her teasing remark. “What are you talking about? Please, Tina,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “He doesn’t exactly hide it, you know. I’ve noticed him watching me after class. His sister filled in the blanks for me.”

Tina let out a knowing chuckle, her fingers reaching out to playfully pinch your lipstick-tinted cheek. “Well, then,” she said, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “I hope you’re ready for tonight’s party—because he sure will be.”

“More than ever.”

The party unfolded just as expected. Students from all different classes filtered in, the buzz of laughter and music filling the air. You exchanged greetings with a few familiar faces, including Nancy and Steve, who seemed genuinely delighted to see you. But amidst the crowd, your attention kept drifting to one person in particular—Billy.

Billy had chosen a costume that was simple yet unmistakably bold, one that made him stand out effortlessly—a deliberate move, knowing you would be there. He basked in the attention, especially during his last show-off, drawing gazes from classmates and, more importantly, from you. Just as the crowd crowned him the new king of the party, your eyes met his, moments before Steve’s glare joined the mix.

“There’s a new king, Harrington!” someone shouted, the taunt hanging in the air. Steve’s protective stance shifted subtly, his arm brushing closer to yours, a motion that did not go unnoticed by Billy. His jaw tightened, his blood simmering at the sight. You could feel Billy’s intense gaze boring into you, his bottom lip catching between his teeth as he closed the distance, his shadow falling over you like a storm cloud.

“Chill, Hargrove,” Steve said, his tone edged with concern as he caught the subtle gulp you tried to hide. Your fingers toyed nervously with the ends of your hair, your cheeks burning beneath the dramatic blush Tina had so generously applied. You prayed it masked the heat of your reaction. Billy smirked, his voice low and biting as his eyes flicked to Steve. “Don’t worry, Harrington,” he drawled. “I won’t touch the pretty bird. Right?” His words dripped with challenge as his attention snapped back to you, daring a response you weren’t ready to give.

The pretty bird—a nickname he’d just bestowed upon you, dripping with both charm and dominance. “Right,” you murmured, echoing his words in the same low, uncertain tone. You could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips twitch into a smug smirk, as if he’d won some unspoken game.

A single, satisfied nod was all he gave before turning and venturing off into the party, leaving a trail of intrigue in his wake. From that night forward, you weren’t just another face in the crowd. To Billy Hargrove, you were his pretty prey.

A few weeks had passed since the party when Billy finally had the courage to speak to you. By then, the two of you had developed an unexpectedly close friendship, something that continued to baffle both Steve and Nancy. Despite his unrelenting attitude toward them—and even Max—there was something different about the way he acted around you. His sharp edges seemed to soften; his piercing gaze grew warmer, and his voice carried a calmness that seemed out of character.

The Billy everyone else knew was almost unrecognizable when he was with you. It was as if you’d uncovered a side of him that no one else had seen. But then came the night of the date, a night that would change everything.

Max was out of the house, giving Billy some rare peace. Music blasted from his room as he paced, running through a mental checklist to make sure everything was perfect. All he could think about was you—how you’d said yes without a moment’s hesitation, your smile igniting a spark he hadn’t felt in years. The rush of excitement coursed through him as he glanced at the clock. Then came the knock at his bedroom door, sharp and abrupt. “Billy!” The voice on the other side wasn’t Max’s. It carried a weight that sent a chill down his spine, breaking through the haze of his thoughts.

“Yeah I am a little bit busy here Susan!”

“Open the door!” his father urged. “Right now!”

A sigh escaped from Billy’s lips as he took a final puff from his cigarette, his eyes briefly flicking to the clock. There was hesitation in the air before he finally opened the door. Standing before him were his father and Susan, their faces etched with obvious concern. He could feel the tension in his chest, the weight of the moment pressing down. He couldn’t afford to be late—not tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Billy asked, his voice strained as he tried his best to hide the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. This last-minute checkup was the last thing he needed right now, especially with you waiting.

“What don’t you tell us?” his father shot back, matching Billy's tone.

Billy’s jaw clenched, his patience thinning. “Because I don’t know,” he snapped, his hands instinctively balling into fists at his sides. He couldn’t keep his frustration hidden, not with this constant interference. But in the back of his mind, all he could focus on was the ticking clock and the promise of the night ahead.

“We can’t find Maxine,” Susan said, her voice tinged with growing worry. The poor woman only wanted answers about her daughter. “And her window’s open,” Billy’s father added, his tone sharp.

“Where is she?” Billy’s father demanded, his impatience creeping through.

Billy glanced to the side, his mind racing for an answer. He hadn’t seen Maxine since school let out. He assumed she was in her room. "I don’t know," he muttered, uncertainty in his voice.

“You don’t know?” His father scoffed, disbelief lacing his words. “How could you not know where your sister is?”

“Look, I’m sure she went to… I don’t know, the arcade or something?” Billy muttered, trying to brush off the situation as he walked over to grab his coat. His mind, however, was elsewhere—on you. He couldn’t shake the thought of you waiting for him, and the frustration of being dragged into this mess was beginning to boil over. Why was it always him who had to be the one punished for things he didn’t even know about?

“You were supposed to watch her,” his father’s voice cut through the air, stern and accusing, as he watched Billy put on his coat.

Billy paused, exhaling sharply. “I know, Dad, I was. It’s just... you guys were three hours late, and... well, I have a date tonight,” he muttered, his voice tight with irritation. He turned to face his father, the frustration finally boiling over. “I’m sorry, okay?”

The look on his father’s face remained cold, his silence only intensifying the tension in the room. He stood there, inconvenienced, before finally speaking. “I’ve been looking after her all week. If she wants to run off, that’s her problem. She’s not my sister—!”

Billy’s words were cut off as his back hit the wall, his father’s fist striking his cheek with a force that left him stunned. “What did we talk about?” his father growled, his grip tightening on Billy’s collar, pulling him forward. “Respect. And responsibility.”

Billy’s pulse raced, his face burning from the impact and the anger building in his chest. His father’s voice was low but unforgiving. “That’s right. Now apologize to Susan.”

Billy fought the urge to cry, the sting of the slap still fresh against his skin, but the sound of his father's footsteps fading away gave him some space to breathe. He knew, deep down, no matter what happened, his mind was already set. Your house was the next place he would go. He drove faster than he meant to, forgetting just how close your place was. Hours had passed since his original plans, and while he was certain you’d probably given up on the date, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to see you.

Inside your room, you sighed as you began removing your makeup. Steve’s words echoed in your mind—Billy was nothing but trouble. You were starting to see the truth in his warning.

But then, a soft rustle from the window made you turn. You froze, eyes wide, as the window creaked open. A quiet groan reached your ears, followed by the unmistakable figure of Billy struggling to climb through, despite the risk of being caught by your parents.

“Billy!” You whispered urgently, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic and disbelief filled your voice. You rushed over to help him down, your hands instinctively reaching for him. When he finally landed on his feet, you couldn’t help but notice the bloodshot look in his eyes—a raw, exhausted intensity that seemed so out of place. It was clear he’d lost control somewhere along the way, a little too much for him to handle.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, the concern slipping through despite everything you had begun to doubt about him.

“Hey… what’s wrong?” Your fingers gently cupped his face, your touch tender as you tried to get a better look at him. Billy had always dreamed of this moment—the way your hand felt on his cheek, the softness in your eyes. He closed his eyes slowly, leaning into your touch as if it was the only thing grounding him in that moment.

“Did something happen? For our date to…” You paused, hesitant to place the blame entirely on him. “...be canceled? I wanted to call to make sure you were on your way… but I was suspicious you were ditching me for someone else.”

Ditching? Billy’s eyes snapped open, his expression caught between surprise and offense. “Never, sweetheart,” he said quickly, his voice rougher than usual, hoarse from something deeper. “It’s just…” He trailed off, his words strained, tired. Then you noticed something else—on the edge of his jaw, a bruise barely hidden by the shadow of his stubble.

“Did… did you get hurt?” Your concern washed over him, a mix of worry and care that made him feel worse, like a knot tightening in his chest. The thought of letting you down, of your date being postponed, only made it more difficult to face you.

Billy shook his head, his eyes briefly avoiding yours, a flicker of shame flashing across his features. “No… just my dad,” he muttered, trying to brush it off. It wasn’t annoyance that made him look away, but something far deeper—guilt. A part of him wanted to tell you, but the words stuck in his throat, heavy with the weight of his own turmoil.

A thought crept into your mind, an unsettling one you couldn’t shake. “Did your…?” The question hung in the air, but Billy’s silence was all the answer you needed. The weight of it made something inside you stir, a wave of emotion that urged you to pull him close, to hold him and let him release whatever he’d been bottling up. You wanted to be the one to let him break down, to let him know he didn’t have to keep it all in anymore.

Billy hesitated, his body tense with the internal battle, but the sigh he let out spoke volumes—words he couldn’t say, but emotions that bled through his every movement. As your arms wrapped around his waist, your head resting against his chest, Billy froze. His breath hitched for a moment, and your heart ached at the vulnerability he was showing.

He shifted, unsure at first, but then his arms pulled you tighter into his embrace, the weight of his grief sinking into you. His body rocked you gently, a rhythm of unspoken sorrow, until the quiet sobs began to break through. Billy Hargrove, the walls he built so high, was finally letting go. And for the first time, he felt safe enough to cry.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured through his tears, his voice barely audible but full of raw sincerity. “Promise me tomorrow… we’ll have a date together.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze, your fingers reaching up to wipe away a tear that slipped down his cheek. “I love you too, Billy Hargrove,” you whispered, your voice soft but certain. “I promise.”

#stranger things imagines #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove smut #x reader #imagines #fandom x reader

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lvnleah · 2 months ago

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viv’s move to manchester.

this series masterlist can be found here!

The day you helped Viv move into her new apartment in Manchester felt strange from the start. The drive had been quiet, except for the sound of Myle panting softly in the backseat. You held Twix tightly, watching your iPad in the back seat as Beth drove. Beth had packed up a few bits into the boot and you were taking them up to Manchester for Viv’s new apartment.

When you arrived, Viv was already outside waiting. She waved when she saw the car, her big smile making your heart feel warm. But even though you were excited to see her, you didn’t like the way the moving truck behind her made everything feel different.

The offer from Manchester City was a tough decision to make for Viv. She had offers from all over the place, even outside of the country, and she’d talked about it thoroughly with Beth and all of your family. There was no chance she was leaving England because they knew it’d be too much for you.

Manchester had the same priorities as Viv and although it was a few hour's drive, the train didn’t take as long. Manchester was too far away for Viv to stay living in London so a few weeks ago her and Beth went flat hunting while you stayed with Leah and Buddy. The new flat was really nice and you even had your own bedroom.

“Hey, mijn meisje,” Viv said, crouching down to hug you as soon as you got out of the car. “And there’s Twix too! Did you keep him safe for me?”

You nodded and held Twix up for her to see. “He missed you, so did I!”

“I missed you too,” she said, scooping you up for a cuddle before setting you down.

Inside the flat, everything felt too new. The walls were plain, the floors were shiny, and there weren’t any pictures or toys like at home. You followed Viv and Beth as they unpacked boxes, helping where you could. Myle trotted around, sniffing every corner like she was trying to figure out if this was her new home too.

“Where’s your bed, Mamma?” you asked after a while, clutching Twix to your chest.

Viv pointed to a room down the hall. “It’s in there, but we have to put it together first. Want to help me?”

You nodded and spent the next hour handing her screws and holding pieces of wood while she and Beth worked. When the bed was finally done, you climbed onto it with Twix, testing it out. It felt soft and big, but it didn’t feel like Beth and Viv’s bed at home.

As the day went on, the apartment started to look more like home. Viv hung up a few family photos in the living room, and Beth helped her organize the kitchen. You even put one of your drawings on the fridge, right in the middle where Viv promised it would stay.

But when it was time to leave a few days later, your stomach started to hurt. You followed Viv to the door, holding her hand tightly.

“Do we have to go?” you asked quietly.

Viv crouched down so she was at eye level with you. “You and Mummy need to go back home, mijn meisje. But you’ll see me at the weekend, and I’ll call you every day. Okay?”

Tears pricked your eyes, and you clutched Twix tightly. “You come back with us? Please?”

Viv’s face softened, and she pulled you into a hug. “I wish I could, Roo. But this is my new home now while I play football.”

You didn’t say anything, just buried your face in her shoulder and held onto her as tightly as you could.

Beth’s voice was soft when she spoke from the door. “Come on, Roo. We need to get going.”

Myle whined as if she didn’t want to leave either, and you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as you said goodbye. Viv kissed your forehead and promised again that you’d see her in a few days, but it didn’t make leaving any easier.

The car ride home was quiet again, except this time, you didn’t let go of Twix. Your chest felt tight, and even Myle’s gentle nudges against your hand didn’t help as you watched your iPad again.

By the time you were back in London, it was late, and the ache in your chest hadn’t gone away. Beth tried everything to cheer you up—she made your favourite dinner, read extra bedtime stories, and even let Myle curl up on the rug in your room. But nothing worked.

The first night without Viv proved harder than Beth anticipated. She’d known it would be rough for both you and her, but nothing could have prepared her for just how much you would both miss Viv’s presence in the house.

You were curled up in her bed, clutching Twix trying to fall asleep. Beth had tucked you in hours ago, reading you three bedtime stories instead of the usual one. But it didn’t help. “Mummy,” your small voice called from your room.

Beth sighed, putting down the tea she hadn’t touched. She padded into your room, finding you sat up in bed, your cheeks streaked with silent tears.

“I want Mamma,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Beth’s chest ached. She sat down beside you in bed and pulled you onto her lap, “I know, baby. I miss her too.”

“Why can’t she stay here?” You sniffled, burying your face against Beth’s chest.

Beth rubbed your back gently. “Mamma has her new club in Manchester, remember? And Manchester is a long, long, loonggg way from London, isn’t it? So Mamma needs to stay at her new flat in Manchester but I promise we’ll call her in the morning. How does that sound, eh?”

You shook her head. “I don’t wanna call her. I wan’ her here now!”

The tears spilt out before you could stop them. Your chest felt tight and hot, and it was hard to breathe between the sobs. Beth held you close and rocked you back and forth, whispering how much Viv loved you, but it didn’t help. The ache didn’t go away.

Eventually, you heard Beth sigh. She pulled back a little so she could look at you. “Alright, how about this? Just for tonight, we’ll do something special. Want to eat pizza in bed and watch Tangled?”

You blinked at her through your tears. “In bed?”

“In bed,” Beth said with a small smile. “But only this one time. Deal?”

You sniffled and nodded. “Okay. But I want plain pizza.”

“Plain pizza it is,” she said, wiping your cheeks with her sleeve.

When the pizza came, you carried Twix into Beth’s room and climbed onto her big bed with Myle. She set up her laptop at the end of the bed, and you snuggled under the covers while Rapunzel sang about her tower. Beth handed you a slice of pizza on a napkin, and you took tiny bites, feeling a little less sad with every bite.

By the time Flynn Rider started singing, your eyelids were heavy. You rested your head against Beth’s chest, feeling warm and safe. Twix was tucked under your chin, and Beth’s voice hummed quietly along to the music.

Before the movie ended, you were already asleep.

The next few weeks weren’t easy. You struggled to adjust to Viv being away despite seeing her on the weekends and talking to her multiple times a day. Little things set you off—spilling juice, not finding Twix in the morning, or even the sound of Beth saying “no.” Each tantrum seemed bigger than the last, and Beth tried her hardest to stay patient, even when she felt like crying herself.

Things didn’t seem to get any better. Beth had to go to training, and you had to go with her, which you weren’t thrilled about. As soon as you got to the training ground, you crossed your arms and pouted. You didn’t want to be there. You didn’t want to do anything. You just wanted to go home.

So you decided to plop yourself down on the floor and refuse to move from the hallway outside of the changing rooms.

Beth noticed right away. “Roo, come on, munchkin,” she said gently, bending down to look at you. “It’ll be fun, I promise. The team will be happy to see you.”

You shook your head as the tears began to bubble up. “I don’t want to stay here. I want Mamma.”

Beth sighed, she had been trying so hard to keep things normal, but it wasn’t working. She was tired, too and felt like crying at any given moment.

You lay on your back, tears flowing down your face as you kicked your legs around. “I want Mamma!”

“I didn’t do it,” you heard Monkey say as her and Leah came out of the changing room. “You have no proof I did it.”

Leah raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms with a small, knowing smile. “Oh yeah, course, none at all,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Monkey shrugged innocently, but before she could say anything else, she spotted you still lying on the floor, tears streaming down your face. Her expression softened instantly, and she looked down at you.

“Why the glum face, kid?” she asked. “I’m here! The party can begin!”

Beth shot her a sharp look. “Not the time, Monkey.”

Beth looked up and caught Leah’s eye. The silent exchange between them was brief but loaded: I’m at my wit’s end. Leah nodded, crouching down to your level and softening her voice.

“Hi, Roo,” Leah said gently, pushing a strand of stray hair out of your face. “You’re not having such a good day, are you? Do you want to tell Auntie Le what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, hugging Twix tighter and sniffling. Leah stayed patient, giving you a moment. “Come on, sweetie,” she coaxed. “There’s no need for tears. Where’s our happy little Roo gone, eh? I happen to know there’s a special cake in the canteen with your name on it. Shall we go and have a look?”

You sniffled again, peeking at her through watery eyes. “Chocolate?”

“Oh of course,” Leah said, her lips curling into a small, reassuring smile. “Only the best for you!”

Your lip wobbled, but you slowly reached out to take Leah’s hand, clutching Twix with your other arm. Beth let out a quiet sigh of relief as she stood back up.

“You get changed,” Leah said over her shoulder, scooping you up onto her hip. “I’ve got her for a bit.”

Beth hesitated, getting a glare from Leah as if to say “you need five minutes of peace”, before nodding gratefully and heading to the locker room.

In the canteen, Leah found a quiet table for the two of you and set you up with a slice of chocolate cake. You poked at it with your fork before taking a tiny bite, still clutching Twix protectively.

Leah watched you quietly for a moment before leaning closer. “You miss your Mamma, don’t you, huh?” she asked softly, her tone understanding.

You nodded, not looking up.

“It’s hard when someone you love moves away,” Leah continued, her voice calm and soothing. “But you’re so brave, you know that? Your Mamma misses you too, more than anything. And you’ll see her soon, I promise.”

You sniffled, taking another bite of cake. “She said she’d call tonight.”

“She will,” Leah said, smiling gently. “And when she does, you can tell her all about how you had chocolate cake and hung out with your cool Auntie Le.”

“Monks said you're not cool!” You giggled before hiccuping.

Leah gasped in mock offense, “Oh did she now?”

“She said you’re bossy!” you said, a small giggle breaking through your sniffles.

Leah leaned back in her chair, “Well, Monkey clearly doesn’t know what cool is. I mean, who just helped you find chocolate cake, huh? That’s peak coolness right there!”

You giggled again, the sound making Leah smile in relief. “Okay… maybe you’re a little cool.”

“A little?!” Leah said, pretending to be scandalized. “Roo, you’re killing me here.”

You smiled shyly, taking another bite of cake, “You get me cake again when I’ sad next? Then you’re cool!”

Leah chuckled. “Deal, but don’t tell Monks. She’ll want in on the cake action, and we can’t have that can we, eh? She’ll be eating all of it!”

You smiled a little wider, the tears from earlier drying on your cheeks. Leah ruffled your hair lightly. “That’s my girl. Now, finish that cake so we can boss everyone in at training, yeah?”

By the time Beth came into the canteen, she was changed and ready for training. “You feeling better now, munchkin?”

You nodded, your cheeks still a little puffy from crying, “Auntie Le’s cool. She got me chocolate cake!”

Beth arched an eyebrow, glancing at Leah with mock suspicion. “Oh, she did, did she? Are you trying to bribe my kid, Le?”

Leah grinned. “Not bribing. Just being the cool Auntie, apparently.”

Beth crouched down beside you, brushing a hand over your hair. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, munchkin. Why don’t you go get some toys to take outside with you, yeah?”

You nodded before slipping off of your chair and running over to the little toy box that was for you and Buddy.

Beth sat down next to Leah with a sigh, “Thanks, Le. How are you so good at this?”

Leah chuckled, “Tantrums are a daily occurrence in my house these days. You can return the favour when Buddy has a meltdown over the crusts not being cut off her sandwich next time."

The next few days were easier but still tough. You still had tantrums over little things but they weren’t as full blown. Nights proved to be the toughest though, so Beth had just given in and let you sleep in her bed cuddle up to her. She was doing anything to make sure you were happy.

Beth tried her best to keep the routine as stable as possible, with the team stepping in to help where they could. She decided to take you and Myle to Manchester to visit Viv for the weekend with Vic tagging along. You were so excited you barely slept the night before, waking up at the crack of dawn to pack Twix and your favourite toys into your backpack.

The drive up was a lot livelier this time, with Vic sitting in the backseat with you, telling silly stories that made you giggle endlessly. Myle seemed to pick up on your excitement, her tail wagging as she rested her head on your lap.

When you arrived at Viv’s flat, she was waiting outside with a wide smile, just like the last time. “There’s my mijn meisje!” she called out, kneeling down to scoop you up the moment you jumped out of the car.

“Mamma!” you squealed, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck.

Myle barked happily, pulling at her lead as Beth got her out of the car. “Alright, alright, Myle, calm down,” Beth said, laughing as Myle bounced over to Viv, tail wagging furiously.

“You survived the journey then?” Viv teased as Vic climbed out of the car, stretching dramatically.

“Barely,” Vic joked, ruffling your hair as you clung to Viv. “Your kid’s got a lot of energy, you know that?”

“Tell me about it,” Beth muttered, shaking her head but smiling fondly.

“Hi, liefde.” Viv smiled as Beth threw her arms around the pair of you.

“Oh god, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you,” Beth mumbled into Viv’s neck.

Inside the flat, everything felt better with Viv there. She’d decorated a little since your last visit, there were more pictures on the walls, and your drawing was still front and centre on the fridge. She’d even set up your bedroom with some of your favourite toys and new bedding which had a princess on it.

“Look!” Viv said, leading you to the room. “I got this just for you.”

Your eyes widened as you saw the new bedding. “It’s Princess!” you squealed, running over to touch it. “Mamma, it’s my favourite!”

“I know,” Viv said, kneeling beside you. “I wanted you to feel like this is your home too.”

You threw your arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. “It does! It’s perfect!”

The weekend was full of laughter and cuddles. Viv took you to a nearby park where you played on the swings and slid down the slides with her cheering you on. That evening the four of you, plus Myle and Twix, snuggled up on the couch to watch a movie. You fell asleep halfway through, curled up between Viv and Beth, Twix tucked under your arm.

“I think someone’s tired!” Beth giggled, nodding towards you as you practically laid on top of Viv.

Viv smiled, brushing your hair away from your face before placing a kiss on your forehead, “Yeah, it’s been a long week for her.”

#lvnleah #rory miedema #our little love #woso x reader #beth mead x vivianne miedema fic

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lipglossanon · 9 months ago

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Warm My Heart

Puppy!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

paid request from anonymous; thank you so much again!! I’m happy you liked it! 💜

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, hybrid AU, jealous Leon, kissing, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, knotting, shower sex

Proofread ✍️

Word count: 1990

Your best friend finally moved out on her own. She now owns a small house in a quiet little neighborhood, but truthfully, it’s only a few doors down from her parents (so not too much of a change of pace). She insists you visit one Saturday, wanting to celebrate her new digs as well as introduce you to the new hybrid her parents gifted her as a housewarming present.

She’s seen pics of you with Leon and it must’ve made some kind of impression. To be fair, he is super cute. You definitely got lucky when you opted to adopt him at the spur of the moment. When Saturday finally arrives, Leon pouts and pleads to go with you— whining about missing you, his big blue eyes teary and beseeching.

“I’ll only be gone for a few hours,” you promise, petting his soft, fuzzy ears, “and if you’re really good, I’ll give you a little treat when I get back home.”

His tail wags a bit even as his ears droop, “I’ll be good, miss owner. Please don’t stay gone too long.”

“I’ll try not to,” you kiss his forehead, and he licks a wet stripe up your cheek as he bids you goodbye at the door.

You have a pleasant enough time at your friend’s house; her bunny hybrid is sweet and playful, but extremely shy. She cuddles against you on the sofa for a bit before scampering off to her room. It makes you miss Leon just that much more. Feeling a little homesick, you say goodbye to your friend (promising you’ll visit again soon) and head home.

Leon’s been such a good boy lately that you’re not too worried about coming home to a messy house. Parking in the driveway, you can see his silhouette at the window before the curtain falls shut, and you smile, knowing he’ll be at the entryway as soon as you go inside. Swinging open the front door, Leon bounces on the balls of his feet, wagging tail a blur behind him.

After you shut and lock the door, he’s all over you, scenting you all over. He suddenly freezes and growls low in his throat.

“Why do you smell different?”

He presses his nose against your arm, dragging his face down your side, before kneeling in front of you and sniffing across your hip.

“You probably smell that little bunny hybrid from earlier,” your tone gentle, hoping to negate any extreme jealousy, “she sat next to me on the couch.”

“Miss owner,” his hands grasp the hem of your skirt, bunching it as he slides his hands up your thighs, “it’s really rude to come home smelling like someone else.”

“Leon,” you gasp, stumbling back against the front door as he nuzzles against your panty clad mound.

“Gotta make sure you know who you belong to, miss owner,” he laps at your cunt through the fabric, making you buck your hips.

Pulling away, he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you all the way back into your room. Tossing you down onto the bed, he paws at your clothes until he’s able to pull them all off, leaving you totally nude for his hungry gaze.

“So pretty,” he pants, his tail thumping against the bed. “You smell so good, can’t wait to lick you up.”

He shuffles around to remove his own clothes before sitting between your spread thighs. Precum drools from the tip of his cock, falling in sticky strings down his shaft onto the bedspread. It makes your mouth water, but he doesn’t give you time to stare. Leon lays flat on his stomach, burying his face into your drippy pussy.

“Oh, god,” you mewl, your hands reaching down to tangle in his soft hair, being careful not to hurt his ears.

A hot, wet tongue flutters into your pussy drawing your attention down to the soaking wet mess between your thighs. Leon groans and flattens his tongue to lick a stripe up your cunt to suck your pudgy clit.

“This pussy tastes like mine,” he huffs out, blue eyes looking up at you. “I own it, don’t I, miss owner?”

When you don’t answer, he bites your leg with a low snarl. Keening, you tug his hair a little harder.

“Yes, yes, Leon, s’your pussy,” you moan, arching your hips towards his mouth.

He gently nips your swollen bud and kisses down your soaked pussy lips to tongue fuck your hole. His hands come up and pin your hips to the bed as he devours your cunt, groaning and growling as he thrusts his tongue in and out of your pussy. Slick and spit run down your skin to pool underneath your ass.

“Cum all over my tongue,” he uses one hand to pull the hood of your clit back, “so I can give you my puppy knot, breed you nice and full.”

He licks and kisses your exposed bundle of nerves until your thighs tremble. Slick drips from your hole nonstop as he suckles your clit into his mouth, tongue hot and slippery against the bud until your body jerks, orgasm whiting out your senses.

“Good owner,” he says excitedly, “now I’m gonna cum all over you so you’ll smell like me.”

“What?” You slur out, pussy still throbbing.

“You’ll see, pretty owner,” he grunts, shoving your thighs up over his hips as he jerks his cock.

He presses the drooling head against your abdomen and strokes himself off, shclick schlick schlick echoing in your ears. Whining, he aims his cock up and shoots thick stripes of cum all across your stomach and breasts. You moan loudly. The hot sticky feeling of his cum coating your skin sends fresh arousal leaking from your cunt.

“Don’t worry, I’m still hard for you,” he drags his cock down to rut against your slit, “won’t pop my knot til I’m inside your tight pussy.”

Mewling, you claw at the sheets as Leon notches the fat head of his cock at your hole and teasingly slips the first few inches in before pulling out.

“Oh, please, Leon,” tossing your head back, you roll your hips, seeking more from him, “please.”

“So pretty, miss owner,” he hums low in his throat, pressing his cock inside your snug pussy, “you’re so perfect, and you’re all mine. Say it, and I’ll give you my fat puppy knot.”

“Give it to me, Leon, please,” you whine. “I’m all yours, promise. You’re my only sweet boy.”

He whimpers, hips jumping as he fucks into you sloppily, “Oh, miss owner.”

He bottoms out quickly, cock thick and heavy inside your fluttering walls. Your cunt squeezes and clamps down around his dick, making him grind against you. His tip grazes your cervix, and you wail, the pain melding into pleasure that makes your eyes water. Leon pulls all the way out before bullying himself back into your squelching hole, grunting as his balls smack against your ass.

“So good, so tight,” he chuffs, ears perked and tail drumming against your legs, “gonna give you my pups, gonna knot you over and over.”

Leon leans forward and licks across your mouth, leaving a trail of spit.

“Hold your tongue out,” he growls, his pupils blown wide.

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, and he laps at it, dripping saliva all over your chest.

“Lick mine,” he murmurs before going back to pressing your tongues together.

You whine, pussy leaking slick all over his cock while you and Leon lick each other's tongues, making a complete mess of your lips and chins. The spit that drips onto your chest makes your blood run hot. He pulls back to grab your wrists with one hand and hold them above your head.

“Mmm, always so sweet, miss owner,” he grins, rocking forward and making you writhe on his cock.

“Feels so good,” you gasp out, eyes fluttering when he grinds across the spongy spot at the front of your cunt.

Leon pulls out suddenly, and you cry at the loss of heat and pressure. He flips you over onto your stomach, making you yelp at the new change. Grabbing your hips, he angles your ass up higher before plunging his cock back inside your chubby cunt.

“Leon, fuck, s’too deep,” you whine, drool slipping from your lips as your mouth drops open.

“Means it’s a good angle for my knot to take,” he groans, humping harder and faster, “my owner’s the best, got the best pussy, gonna keep you on my knot all the time.”

“Leon,” you moan, “I promise I’m all yours.”

Your breasts, sticky with cum, drag against the sheets as Leon’s thrusts jostle you across the bed.

“You’re squeezing me so tight.”

He drops forward and cages in your body, nuzzling against your neck and shoulders. Leon slips a hand underneath you, spreading open your pussy lips to flick and rub your swollen clit. He circles it over and over until that tight band of arousal in your core snaps. Crying out, you press back against him, legs shaking as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna stuff you full, creampie this pretty pussy,” he groans, thrusting into you deeper.

With every rock of his hips, you can feel the swell of his knot pushing against your hole, teasing you with the promise of Leon’s thick load. He nips and bites at your shoulders, hand softly rubbing your clit to make your pussy flutter and milk his cock. He pounds into your cunt a few more times before his knot finally pops—he shoves it into your soft walls, locking you two together. Hot, thick cum shoots out, painting your cervix white while Leon howls softly.

“It’s so much,” you whisper, voice cracking.

He grinds against you as he keeps spurting rope after rope inside your dripping pussy.

“My pretty owner’s full of my sticky puppy cum,” he chuffs against your ear. “Once my knot goes down, I’m gonna stuff you full all over again.”

“Leon,” you mewl, pussy throbbing.

His fingers continue to rub and tease your clit until a second orgasm washes over you, racking your body with pleasure as you squeeze around his dick like a vice. You sink into your bed and he follows you down, licking and kissing everywhere he can reach.

True to his word, Leon keeps you on his knot for the rest of the day. Once it goes down the first time, he rearranges you until you're bent over the bed, pounding into your pussy until your legs practically give out. The third time, he helps you to the shower, but instead of washing you, he wraps your legs around his waist and knots you against the shower wall.

His mouth latches onto your nipples, and he brings you off by just suckling the stiff buds as he pumps your knotted pussy full of cum. Once you beg him for a break, he relents. Helps wash you off once his knot deflates and slips from your hole, cum and slick dripping in thick globs down your thighs. He eagerly licks it up and eats it out of your pussy.

“Taste just like me,” he pants happily, wet tail slinging water as the shower head rains down on you both.

“I’m too sensitive,” you plead with him, “let me rest, please, Leon. Be a good boy and let me rest.”

He hums happily, blinking water from his eyes as he looks adoringly up at you, “Alright, miss owner. She sure is swollen and wet.”

He runs a featherlight touch across your pussy making your thighs jump. Standing back up, he pulls you into a hug, kissing your cheek.

“I’ll getcha cleaned up,” he murmurs.

He helps you finish up in the shower before guiding you to his room since your sheets are totally trashed. Laying you down on his bed, you drift off with Leon snuggling next to you.

#paid request #ko fi commissions #ko fi request #ko fi #hybrid au #puppy!leon s kennedy #puppy!leon #puppy!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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mads-hemmo · 2 months ago

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Chuckle Sandwich x Anxious reader

TW: Mental Illness

Various situations in which the boys of Chuckle Sandwich comfort their partner with anxiety.

Charlie

Charlie and you have been together for about a year now. You are very thankful for having him as a boyfriend. He listens well and knows what to do when you are overwhelmed which is a common occurrence. Tonight is no different. The two of you went out to dinner with friends. You thought you fully prepared yourself, but you were wrong.

As you are sitting at the table, there are multiple conversations going on. It’s hard to focus on one and the sound has gotten a little bit too loud. You have pretty much shut down at this point not saying a word. You haven’t even touched your food.

“Are you okay?” You hear Charlie whisper in your ear.

You turn to look at him. “Yeah,” you lie, but he knows better.

“Can I touch you?” He asks. He knows when you are overwhelmed, you don’t like to be touched so he wants to ask to see.

You nod. He grabs your hand. “(Y/N), are those D20 earrings new?” Grizzly asks you.

“Yeah Char bought them for me,” you tell him.

“They are awesome. I just looked over and saw them,” he says before turning back to the conversation he was having.

You feel Charlie’s thumb rubbing the back of your palm. You continue to listen in on the conversations, but don’t contribute to them. You feel your anxiety getting higher with each passing minute. ”If you need to, go to the bathroom. Watch some TikToks or play a mobile game,” Charlie whispers to you, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

You give him a soft smile. You’re so happy he knows that most of the time you just need to step away from the situation. You decide to take his advice and excuse yourself to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back,” you tell the group.

Once you get into the bathroom, you watch TikToks with the sound at the lowest volume. You slightly disassociate and focus on your screen. You see a text from Charlie, ‘feeling any better?’

You smile at your phone. ‘Yes a bit. I’ll be out in a minute,’ you text him back.

‘take your time sweetheart!’

When you start feeling calmer, you wash your hand before going back to the table. All of your friends smile at you as you sit down. You start taking bites of your food, finally able to enjoy everyone’s company. “When we get home, I’m going to draw you a bath. Then we can cuddle and watch some Sailor Moon,” Charlie whispers in your ear. You feel your heart swell that you have a boyfriend who knows you so well.

If it was any other night, you could guess the things that he whispers in your ear will be slightly naughty. However, you’ve had a rough night and he knows all you need is some comfort and quality time with him.

After a while, you all finally finish your meal. Charlie pays the two of you and you give a hug to your friends. When you are in the car, you feel an immense calm wash over you. You are excited to finally be alone with just your boyfriend. He takes hold of your hand and kisses your knuckles. “Thank you for going out with me tonight, baby,” Charlie tells you.

“No need to thank me for that. Thank you for knowing me and what I need. I love you,” you say to him.

“I love you too.” The two of you drive home with just the sound of the radio playing softly.

As soon as you get home, Charlie goes to the bathroom to fill up the tub. He throws a bathbomb in to make it more cozy. You follow him into the bathroom and he helps you out of your clothes, making sure to be extra careful. Once the bath is full, he helps you inside. “Do you want help washing your hair or do you want me to set up the living room?”

“You can wash my hair. Also, can you join me?” You ask him. You have started feeling proud of yourself that you are willing to not only accept help, but also ask for what you want.

“Of course,” Charlie says, taking his clothes off. He gets in the bath behind you so you can settle in between his legs. His hands immediately start washing your hair. He softly massages your head.

After you and Charlie finish washing each other’s bodies and hair, you get out and put on your most comfortable pajamas. He puts on Sailor Moon then holds his arms out for you. You quickly mold perfectly into his body. You feel incredibly safe in his arms making you never want to leave this spot. Charlie kisses the top of your head and you feel insanely lucky to have such a wonderful boyfriend.

Ted

Before dating Ted, you lived alone and you loved it. You enjoyed the freedom of eating, watching, and basically doing whatever you want. However, when you moved in with Ted you hated being alone. You always slept terribly when he wasn’t lying beside you.

Tonight is no different, Ted is in San Diego for TwitchCon. He tried to convince you to come with him, but you had to work. You wished you used your PDO, so you could be sleeping beside him. But no, you couldn’t stop thinking about everything. Such as how much laundry you have to do. How dirty the apartment has gotten. Did you eat enough tonight? Did you eat too much tonight? What if someone breaks in and hurts you in your sleep?

All the thoughts and more kept circling your brain making your insomnia worse. You sent a text to Ted, ‘Are you in your hotel room yet?’ You figured he was probably hanging out with his friends or attending parties. Thinking about him at parties only made your thoughts worse. What if he finds someone better than you? What if he thinks you’re annoying for texting him while he’s trying to have fun? What if he gets drunk and does something stupid? You trust your boyfriend a lot, but that didn’t help the thoughts circling through your mind.

Instead of answering your text, you see Ted calling you on FaceTime. You immediately answer. “Hi beautiful. Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, obviously laying down in his hotel room. So no parties, good.

“How did you know?” You ask him.

“Well it’s almost midnight and you would usually be passed out by now.”

You look at the time on your phone, not realizing how late it was. “I’m sorry did I wake you?”

Ted’s glasses were already off and he was shirtless meaning he was ready for bed. “No you didn’t. I’m having a bit of trouble sleeping too,” he admits to you.

“Really? Why?” You ask. You feel slightly worried, but also a bit comforted in the fact that he couldn’t sleep either.

“My brain won’t shut up. Every time I close my eyes, I keep overthinking about everything. When I sleep beside you, I can press mute on my brain and sleep peacefully.”

“Exactly!” Even though you have different diagnoses, there are many things you and Ted can relate to. One of those being, brains that are constantly running at 100 mph. That’s why you and Ted work so well together. You understand each other.

“What have you been thinking about?” Ted asks you. This is one thing you guys do a lot to help each other process your emotions.

“I’ve been thinking about the laundry, the dishes, the dirtiness of the apartment in general, work, what’s going to kill me in the dark, and what if you plan on leaving me while you are gone,” you tell him. “What about you?”

Instead of commenting on how your thoughts are ridiculous, he listens to you. “I’ve been thinking about how I’m being perceived by fans, what I have to do tomorrow while I’m here, if my streamer ‘friends’ really like me, and your safety with me not there.”

You nod as he speaks. “Did that help to let it all out? It helped me.”

“Yeah it helped, but I still fucking miss you.”

“I know. I miss you too. When are you coming home?” you ask, not knowing if you’ll survive much longer without him.

“I have to stay tomorrow then I’ll head back after a few things on Sunday. It will pass by before we know it,” he tells you.

“It feels like forever. How did I ever live alone?”

He slightly laughs at you. “I have an idea on how we can both sleep?” You raise your eyebrow in response. “We should stay on the phone with each other until we fall asleep.”

“What are we 15?” You tease, thinking about the times you did the same thing with your high school boyfriends.

“I know it’s not the same as actually cuddling with you, but I think hearing your snores will help me sleep better,” Ted informs you.

You give him a slight pout. “I don’t not snore!”

“You do, but it’s cute.”

You flip him off. “Okay, I’ll lay you down beside me,” you say, laying your phone by your head.

“I’ll do the same,” Ted says. You hear him shifting around to make himself comfortable. “Goodnight baby. I love you.”

“I love you too, Teddy.” You place a small kiss on your phone screen before laying it back down. You tuck yourself in and get in the mindset to go to sleep. After only a few minutes, you hear Ted’s breath slow down as he falls asleep. Even though you would rather have him beside you, listening to him sleep helps you start to drift off. Soon after, you finally doze off dreaming of being with Ted again.

Schlatt

Schlatt had spent most of his day in his office recording and editing videos. He walks into your shared bedroom where he sees you watching New Girl, your comfort tv show. Jambo and [redacted] are laying on either side of you. Schlatt can tell you haven’t gotten up since he left your side this morning. He wonders what has caused you to not be active and lay in bed all day.

Schlatt walks over to the bed and kisses your forehead. “Hi darling, have you eaten anything today?” He asks you, knowing the answer is probably no.

“No,” you answer, your eyes glued to the tv.

“Are you hungry? I can make us some dinner or maybe door dash something.”

You ignore him. You’re not really hungry and getting out of bed sounds like a lot of work. You also remember that you didn’t take your medicine. You start wondering if the cats have been fed since Schlatt has been busy working. You feel bad for laying in bed all day while he’s working hard.

Schlatt can tell that you’re overthinking. He sits on the bed beside you. “What can I do for you?” He asks.

“You don’t have to do anything. You’ve already done a lot today. Don’t worry about me,” you tell him.

“Toots, it doesn't bother me to take care of you. Tell me what you need.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay,” you say. “I need my medicine, I forgot to take it. Did you feed the cats before you started working? Can we order food? I love you but you’re not the best chef,” you ramble to him.

He smiles at you, grateful that you’re being honest with him. He knows days like this are hard for you and asking for help is even harder. He is happy that you seem to trust him more. “Wow I’m offended,” he jokes. “I’ll go grab your medicine.”

Schlatt goes into the on suite bathroom and grabs your medicine. He also grabs the cup beside the sink and fills it with water for you. He comes back into the bedroom to hand you the medicine and water. “Thank you,” you tell him.

As you take the medicine, he grabs the water from you to place it on the bedside table. “What are you thinking for dinner? Also, yes I did feed the cats this morning.”

“Pizza?” You suggest.

“You know I’ll never say no to pizza. I’ll go ahead and order it,” Schlatt tells you, immediately pulling out his phone.

Your eyes automatically go back to being glued to the tv. After Schlatt orders, he lays beside you. “Pizza is ordered.”

“Awesome,” you tell him, not really focusing on him. Your mind continues to race thinking about various things mostly relating to work that you have to do the next day.

“What’s on your mind?” Schlatt asks. He pulls you into him so you are laying on his chest.

“Just work stuff.”

“What kind of work stuff? Obviously it’s stressing you out so talk to me about it.”

You sigh. You know he’s right, but it will sound like nothing to worry about once you say it out loud. “I just have a lot of paperwork to do. A lot of my students didn’t do well on the last test, so I’m going to have to reteach it to them. But today all I’ve done is lay around and watch tv,” you let out.

“That sounds like a lot. It’s the weekend, so you deserve to do nothing. Your work is not going anywhere and I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to do it tomorrow. You do so much you deserve to relax,” Schlatt tells you, kissing the top of your head.

“Thank you,” you tell him. “You deserve to relax too. You work yourself too hard sometimes.”

“You’re one to talk Toots. This is why we are having a pizza night. I’ll even let you put those frilly face masks on me.”

“Really?” You ask, excitedly looking up at him.

“Yes, I want to be pampered too. But I’ll draw the line at you painting my nails. I have to appear manly,” Schlatt says, playing with your hair now.

“You’re very manly.” You peck his lips. “I promise I won’t paint your nails. I didn’t even think of that until you brought it up anyways. Maybe this is your way of telling me you want your nails painted.”

He looks at you with a slight scold. “You’re ridiculous you know that?”

“Yeah but you love me,” you tell him.

“I do, sadly,” he teases. You hit his arm. “I’m kidding. I love you lots.”

“I love you too. So can we do face masks now or?” You ask.

Schlatt rolls his eyes at you and pulls you in for a kiss. The only thing that pulls him away from you is the doorbell ringing to alert you both that the pizza arrived. You and Schlatt enjoy your pizza and spa night causing you to forget whatever you were worrying about in the first place.

A/N: I know this is long but I wanted to write for every guy. I’m not great at writing head cannons or small things like that so you get a short story for each! I am someone who struggles with intense anxiety so I hope no one is offended by any of this. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.

#chuckle sandwich #jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt fanfic #youtube #ted nivison #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimesicle x reader #ted nivision x reader #mental illness

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rafesapologist · 6 months ago

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strangers ─ drew starkey; ch. 2

summary: getting casted on outer banks threw you into overnight stardom, and an unforeseeable off-screen romance with one of hollywood's newest and biggest heartthrobs.

warnings: unedited, tension (kind of)

author's note: the info in this story about drew is mostly made up!! some of these scenarios and 'facts' are not things that have happened in real life, this is all merely part of the plot of the story.

As if the expectations of being cast onto one of the biggest shows wasn't enough, you were in for the surprise of your life when your manager called and told you that the directors wanted you to start spending time off-screen with your soon-to-be co-star.

"They think it'll make the chemistry on the show more believable if you guys get to know each other more in real life," Kendra sighed and you could practically hear her shrug over the phone.

"Okay?" You responded with a subtle temperament in your tone that went ignored by your manager, "I auditioned for the show, not to become some PR stunt for ratings." You rebutted firmly, crossing your arms as if it made your testament any more earnest.

"Not PR, just friends. If you're gonna work with somebody for who knows how long, you need to at least be acquainted with them," she reaffirmed blithely and you could hear her light up another cigarette over the line, as if her raucous smoker's voice wasn't prominent enough already.

"Then what are we supposed to do that doesn't make it look like we're dating? Cause anything we do is gonna draw attention," you asked, pointing out the burning question in your mind. Drew was a rising star in Hollywood, and it didn’t take much for the media to latch onto any spark of gossip, let alone the proximity between two co-stars. You could already imagine the headlines—"New Romance on Set?" or "Chemistry Beyond the Screen?"—flashing across tabloids, fueling rumors neither of you had any control over. The mere thought made your stomach twist, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the pull of curiosity.

"I don’t know, just grab lunch, go over lines, anything normal," Kendra responded with a casualness that felt at odds with the gravity of the situation. "The point is to make you two comfortable around each other, not to stage some fake romance. But hey, if the chemistry works out in your favor, it's not a bad thing, right?" Her tone was light, but you could sense the subtle hint of persuasion.

You bit your lip, considering the reality of it. Drew—charming, talented, and devastatingly handsome—had already made an impression during the audition, and though his professional demeanor had been disarming, you couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of tension that had crackled between you both. But off-screen was a different game altogether, one where your vulnerability wasn’t masked by a script or camera angles. The idea of spending more time with him outside the confines of rehearsals left you feeling exposed in a way you weren’t sure you were ready for.

"Fine, I’ll do it. But if this turns into some media circus, you owe me a long vacation after this project is over," you finally agreed, letting out a deep breath that didn’t quite ease the knot in your chest.

Kendra laughed, the sound raspy yet full of amusement. "Deal. Besides, you never know what might happen. Worst-case scenario, you make a new friend, right?"

But even as you nodded, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this arrangement than just bonding over scripts and coffee. Drew's name carried weight, and being linked to him—professionally or otherwise—was bound to stir something bigger than either of you could control. And for a brief moment, you wondered if it was the career boost you’d always needed, or a risk you weren’t prepared to take.

"Alright," Kendra continued, breaking the silence. "I’ll set something up. Keep your schedule open for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" You almost choked on the word, your pulse quickening at how soon this was all happening.

"Yep. No time like the present." Kendra’s voice was cheerful, almost too cheerful. "You’ve got this, kid. Trust me."

The call ended before you could protest, leaving you standing alone in your apartment, staring at your phone. You sighed, running a hand through your hair as the reality of tomorrow loomed over you. There was no backing out now, no escaping what was already set into motion.

You treaded over to your fridge, the soft hum of it the only sound in your quiet apartment. Pulling out the bottle of sangria you’d been saving for a special occasion—though right now felt more like an emergency—you unscrewed the cap with a small sigh of relief. The deep, ruby liquid swirled into the stemware glass, filling it halfway as you watched the dark red hues glisten under the dim kitchen light.

It wasn’t a celebration, not yet, but it was something—a moment to collect yourself before you plunged headfirst into whatever tomorrow would bring. You took a slow sip, letting the sweet, tangy taste linger on your tongue, savoring the small comfort it provided. The cool glass felt grounding in your hand, a quiet contrast to the chaos spinning in your mind.

With your hands pressed firmly against the cool countertop, your head hung low as you silently questioned how you ended up in this whirlwind of events. The soft buzz of your phone broke the stillness, pulling you back to reality. You glanced at the screen, and there it was—a text from Kendra.

"I talked to Drew’s managers, they said he suggested having lunch tomorrow at 2. I'll have a driver booked for you around 1:30."

Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest, the words sinking in as you scanned the message over and over. Tomorrow. Lunch. With Drew. And with little to no time to prepare, your anxiety came to life, flooding your mind with a thousand what-ifs.

You stood there, staring at your phone, trying to piece together how you were supposed to handle this. Drew seemed perfectly polite at the chemistry read—cordial even—but one-on-one? Would he be the same, or was that all just an act for the directors?

Your mind raced through every worst-case scenario like a rapid-fire slideshow: what if your mind went blank, and you sat there fumbling for words like an awkward mess? What if you somehow got food stuck in your teeth, making a fool of yourself in front of him? Or worse yet, what if he wasn’t the nice guy he seemed to be? What if Drew, the rising star with all that charisma on-screen, turned out to be an arrogant asshole in real life?

The swirling thoughts made your stomach churn as you stood in the quiet of your kitchen, your fingers gripping the counter tighter. It felt like the universe was pulling you into something far beyond your control, leaving you standing on the edge of tomorrow, unprepared and vulnerable.

You gulped down the remainder of your wine, feeling its chill cascade down your throat, sending a fleeting shiver through your chest. The slight buzz gave you a brief surge of energy, enough to momentarily push aside the weight of tomorrow’s uncertainty. In that brief spark of clarity, an idea—unusual but oddly practical—struck you.

Without hesitation, you darted over to the couch, grabbed your laptop, and flipped it open with renewed purpose. The glow of the screen illuminated your face as you typed in the familiar search bar. But your focus wavered for a moment as the homepage tempted you with random recommendations—cooking tutorials, music videos, travel vlogs—each one a distraction you almost fell for.

You shook your head, quickly typing in the search: Drew Starkey.

As soon as you hit enter, the screen flooded with clips of interviews, behind-the-scenes footage, and fan-made compilations of your soon-to-be co-star.. You clicked on the first interview, your heart picking up pace as his face appeared on screen. There he was—laughing, smiling, completely at ease in front of the camera. His presence was magnetic, the same kind of charm you witnessed during the chemistry read, but now you were analyzing him in a different light. You weren’t watching an actor—no, you were trying to get to know the man behind the character.

Each video you watched painted a picture of Drew’s personality, his mannerisms, the way he laughed mid-sentence, his casual but thoughtful way of answering questions. It was easy to see why he’d become such a rising star. He had that effortless charisma that made him seem approachable yet untouchable all at once.

As you watched one of his MTV interviews, something about a particular one shifted your perspective. Drew was talking about his methods for diving into a character—how he found little pieces of himself in each role and let that guide his performance. But it wasn’t just the professional insight that caught your attention; it was the casual, almost vulnerable tone of his voice as he spoke about his life beyond acting.

He talked about college, how he had balanced classes and part-time jobs, how uncertain he’d felt back then—just like anyone else trying to figure out their future. He laughed about the odd jobs he worked before landing his first big role, like waiting tables and doing temp work. It was such a stark contrast to the larger-than-life persona the media often painted around actors. In that moment, Drew wasn’t just the rising star you'd auditioned with; he was a regular guy who had worked hard to get where he was.

Suddenly, the looming anxiety of tomorrow’s lunch didn’t seem as unbearable. If anything, the idea of talking to him felt almost comforting. You realized he was probably more grounded than you gave him credit for—despite the fame, despite the rising spotlight. It was refreshing, and it put a part of your mind at ease. You’d been so caught up in the idea of him as a powerful actor, you hadn’t considered that, like you, he might just be navigating this career with a sense of uncertainty, too.

You closed the laptop and leaned back, exhaling a long breath. Maybe tomorrow would be more casual than you imagined—just two people talking, finding their rhythm, building that off-screen chemistry in the same way you had in front of the directors. For the first time, the thought of sitting across from Drew didn’t feel like a storm waiting to hit. Instead, it felt manageable. And maybe, just maybe, it would even be enjoyable.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

“Seriously, Kendra, what should I wear?” you huffed, your phone perched precariously on the edge of your bed as you sifted through the chaos of your closet. Fabrics of every texture spilled over your arms as you frantically flipped through hangers, eyeing each piece with increasing frustration. Nothing felt right. You didn’t want to come off like you’d tried too hard, but showing up looking too casual to lunch with Drew Starkey didn’t feel right either.

“It’s just lunch, Y/N,” Kendra's voice came through the phone, nonchalant and steady as usual. “Just dress like you normally would. No need to overthink it.”

You paused, clutching an emerald green blouse in one hand, a simple beige sundress in the other. “But what if I show up looking like a total slob, or worse, like I’m trying too hard? I don’t want him to think I’m one of those actors.”

Kendra sighed on the other end, and you could practically see her lighting another cigarette in her usual blasé way. “Look, you already met him. He’s seen you act. It’s not a pageant, it’s lunch. Just wear something you feel comfortable in and go be yourself. You’ve already impressed him—trust me, your wardrobe is the least of anyone’s concerns.”

She made it sound so simple, but the weight of it all still sat heavy on your chest. You weren’t just meeting up with Drew Starkey; you were being thrown into this situation with someone whose presence alone had enough gravity to throw you off balance. Even though he’d been polite, kind, even reassuring at the chemistry read, today felt different. More personal, more exposed. What if you said the wrong thing? Or worse, what if there was nothing to say at all?

Your eyes landed on the black sundress, a light fabric that flowed in all the right ways—comfortable, but still enough to make you feel put-together. You plucked it off the hanger and held it up in front of the mirror, examining its soft, understated elegance.

“Okay, okay, I think I found something,” you said, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “A sundress. It’s casual, right?”

“Perfect,” Kendra replied, almost as if she wasn’t really paying attention. “Remember, Y/N, this is supposed to be easy. You’re overthinking it. Just go, have lunch, talk. You’ve got nothing to prove to him—you’re already Maisy.”

You nodded at her words, trying to absorb her confidence. “Yeah, I know… You’re right. I’ll text you after, okay?”

“Good luck, kid. Don’t sweat it.”

The call ended, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The room suddenly felt too quiet, and you found yourself staring at the sundress again, smoothing out the wrinkles. Kendra was right—this wasn’t an audition, not anymore. It was just lunch. But the thought of being alone with Drew Starkey for more than five minutes made your stomach flutter with anticipation.

It was already 1:30 before you knew it, and the driver was waiting outside your apartment complex just as Kendra had promised. You stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection, the black sundress clinging to your figure in a way that made you feel both presentable and oddly exposed. The sun streamed in through the windows, casting golden streaks across the floor, but all you could feel was the thrum of nervous energy buzzing through your veins.

You took a deep breath, throwing your bag over your shoulder as you prepared to step out the door. But just as your hand touched the doorknob, an impulse hit you, a wild flicker of hesitation. One more thing, you thought, as if something—anything—could make the looming lunch with Drew feel more manageable.

Without a second thought, you turned back and hurried over to the fridge. The cold hum of the appliance felt almost calming as you pulled out a bottle of liquor, the glass cool beneath your fingers. You reached for the shot glass on the counter, the one you hadn’t touched in weeks, and quickly poured yourself a small measure of liquid courage.

With a swift motion you knocked back the shot. The bitter burn hit your throat like fire, and you winced as it traveled down your chest, leaving a searing heat in its wake. The burn did nothing to dull the nervous energy that coiled in your stomach, but it brought with it a flash of warmth—maybe just enough to get you out the door.

You set the glass down with a clink, exhaling sharply. Okay. Just get this over with.

The city noise hummed in the background as you locked the door behind you, your heels clicking softly against the floor as you descended the stairs. By the time you stepped outside, the black SUV was already waiting, sleek and ominous, like a portal to the unknown. The driver glanced up at you from his phone, offering a quick nod as you approached.

This was it. You were about to spend the next hour or so sitting across from Drew Starkey, face to face, with no script to guide you. Just conversation—easy, simple conversation. You repeated the words like a mantra in your mind as the driver opened the door for you, and you slid into the backseat.

The drive to the coffee shop felt like a blur, as though time had folded in on itself. Twenty minutes passed in what felt like mere moments, your mind a carousel of spiraling thoughts. Each new scenario played out in flashes—awkward silences, fumbling over your words, or worse, making a terrible first impression. You barely noticed the city streets, the buildings slipping by as your pulse quickened.

Before you knew it, the car slowed to a stop. You glanced out the window and felt a jolt in your chest—the café stood before you, quaint and modern with wide, floor-to-ceiling windows that seemed to strip away all your defenses. You could already imagine Drew inside, perhaps sipping on his coffee, glancing up to see you through the glass. The thought made your stomach flip.

Your driver stepped out and came around to open the door for you, his gentle nod barely registering as you mumbled a quiet "thank you" and handed him a tip. As your feet touched the ground, the sunlight was warmer than you'd anticipated, but it did nothing to chase away the cold wave of anxiety coursing through your veins.

You stood there for a moment, frozen in place as you stared at the entrance of the shop. The cheerful chatter and soft clinking of cups inside only heightened your nerves. You could feel your heart beating harder, faster, each step toward the door a battle against your own hesitation.

He’s just a person, you reminded yourself, trying to quell the panic rising in your throat. But it didn’t feel that simple. Drew Starkey, with his effortless charm and natural presence, was far from just a person in your eyes. This wasn’t a screen test or a scripted scene; this was real, and the vulnerability of it all felt like stepping into a spotlight with no lines to recite.

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed down the front of your dress, squaring your shoulders as you approached the door. The reflection in the glass showed a version of yourself that seemed far more composed than you felt inside.

The moment you stepped through the door, it hit you—a wave of vulnerability like never before. The cozy warmth of the café felt stifling, too intimate, too exposing. Every eye seemed like it could be on you, but none more so than the one pair you hadn’t yet found. Your heart thudded in your chest, your breath quickened as your gaze darted around the room, desperate for a familiar face.

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you prayed Drew hadn’t noticed your awkward search. You fidgeted with your purse, shifting it from one shoulder to the other in a vain attempt to appear more casual, less like a deer caught in headlights. Your arms instinctively crossed in front of you, a small shield against the sudden discomfort that surged through your veins.

Your eyes swept over the café, landing on tables filled with groups of friends, couples huddled in cozy corners, and lone patrons with their noses in books or laptops. And then—thank God—there he was. A tall figure with broad shoulders, his back to the door, sitting by the window.

Drew.

Relief rushed through you, as if finding him tethered you back to reality. He was alone, his posture relaxed, almost casual, as if this was just another day for him. You took a slow breath, allowing yourself a second to gather what remained of your composure. The butterflies in your stomach still fluttered, but at least now you had a destination, a focus that made the swirling anxieties just a little more bearable.

With as much confidence as you could muster, you made your way toward him, every step feeling like it stretched on forever.

"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you approached the table. You pulled out the chair opposite him, your nerves fluttering beneath your skin. "Thanks for taking the time to do this. I know you're probably super busy." The words left your lips with a quiet, breathy chuckle, an attempt to mask the awkwardness that clung to you like a shadow.

Drew looked up from his coffee, his eyes warm and inviting, as if to assure you that there was no need for nerves. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and he shook his head. "Actually, I have this week off before we start filming season 4," he explained with an easy laugh, his thumbs tracing the rim of his cup absentmindedly. "I needed to get out of the house anyway."

You laughed softly at his comment, reaching for one of the menus to give yourself a brief moment of reprieve from his gaze. Drew straightened in his chair, the subtle movement drawing your attention just before he cleared his throat.

“So, how did you get into acting?” His question was direct, almost startlingly so, his eyes fixed on you in a way that made you feel suddenly seen—too seen. You weren’t used to such earnestness from someone you'd only just met, but in a way, it was a relief. At least he wasn’t skirting around small talk.

You shifted in your seat, caught off guard by his boldness, but grateful all the same. "Uh, well..." You started, your fingers tightening around the menu. "I was in college for a while, studying psychology, but..." You hesitated, glancing down as if the table could offer some solace. Opening up so quickly wasn’t something you were accustomed to, especially with someone like him. Still, there was something disarming in the way he listened, waiting for you to continue.

"It didn’t feel right," you confessed quietly, your voice softening. "I always had this dream of becoming an actress, ever since I was a kid. So, eventually, I just... dropped out and moved to L.A." You let the words hang there, reluctant but honest. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to lay your cards on the table like this, but it seemed to happen naturally with him in that moment.

Drew’s gaze never wavered from you, his attention unwavering in a way that both flattered and unnerved you. You weren’t used to being the center of someone’s focus like this, especially not someone with his kind of presence. But his expression was kind, reassuring even, and you found some comfort in that.

“There’s no shame in that,” he said with a gentle shrug, his voice warm and understanding. “I took acting in college, but if I had done anything else, I probably would’ve left, too.”

His words brought a flicker of relief to your chest, causing you to sit up a bit straighter. You tilted your head slightly, your eyes tracing over his face, searching for any trace of insincerity but finding none.

“Really?” you asked, a light chuckle escaping your lips. “I don’t think my school even offered that.” You tugged at your bottom lip for a moment, a nervous habit you hadn’t realized you were doing until now. “Besides, I couldn’t have done that anyway. I only went to school because my parents wanted me to. I was basically just trying to make them proud.”

Your confession came out more candidly than you intended, but in the quiet of the café and under Drew’s steady gaze, it felt natural to share. For a moment, you expected him to change the subject, to keep things surface-level, but instead, he continued to pry.

"How did they feel when you came to L.A. to act?"

Your eyes widened slightly at his question, taken aback by his curiosity. It was such a personal, almost mundane topic, yet he was genuinely interested. "They were… wary about it," you replied, your gaze drifting down to the table as you absently picked at your nails. "But they told me they’d support whatever I wanted to do. Though, I’m pretty sure they thought I wouldn’t make it very far, deep down."

You laughed softly, the sound half-hearted, as if trying to ease the seriousness of your own words. You didn’t want to come off as too open or vulnerable so soon, but there was something about his attention that made it difficult to hold back.

Drew didn’t look away. His focus on you never wavered, the intensity of his gaze somehow soft yet unrelenting, making you feel both exposed and heard.

"That’s tough," he murmured, his voice low and reflective. "It’s hard enough chasing something you love, but doing it without knowing if the people who matter most really believe in you… that’s even harder."

His words surprised you. Most people would brush off a confession like that or try to lighten the mood, but Drew leaned in, showing a depth of understanding that made you pause. You glanced back up at him, searching his expression. He wasn’t offering empty sympathy. It was like he genuinely got it.

“Yeah,” you responded quietly, nodding in agreement, “I guess I’ve always had that in the back of my mind, like this little voice telling me I need to prove something.” You hesitated, wondering if you should go deeper, but there was something safe in the atmosphere between you two. “I think that’s why landing this role means so much. It’s not just for me—it’s to show them I wasn’t wrong for following my gut.”

A silence settled between you both after that, but it wasn’t awkward. It felt purposeful, like both of you were letting the weight of your words sink in.

Drew gave a small smile, one that seemed to reach his eyes, softening the intensity of his stare. "Well, I think you’ve already proven that. You nailed the audition, and now here we are. You’re here for a reason."

For a moment, the two of you sat there, enduring a silence that wasn’t awkward, but the tension felt almost suffocating. Drew's gaze lingered on you, so intense that it felt like it was burning through you. Heat rose to your cheeks as his blue eyes seemed to analyze every inch of your face. You wondered if he was searching for flaws, or maybe even finding them. You felt small under his stare, like you wanted to say something to break the tension, but the words wouldn’t come. You were simply speechless under his trance.

"Have you ever taken a role like this?" Drew suddenly asked, breaking the silence as he took a sip of his coffee.

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "What do you mean?"

"Like playing a love interest," he clarified, his voice calm, almost too casual for the depth of his question. "Have you done that before?"

Your brows furrowed slightly as you processed his words, feeling the weight of them sink in. "No, not really," you replied slowly, your voice quiet but steady. "I’ve done smaller roles, but nothing like this. It’s… new for me."

Drew’s eyes softened, his expression shifting from curiosity to understanding. He nodded as if he expected that answer, but the way he watched you made it clear he wasn’t just asking about acting. There was something deeper to the question, a vulnerability you couldn’t quite place.

"That’s interesting," he said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. "Because it doesn’t seem like it. You handle it like a natural."

His words caught you off guard, the compliment landing heavier than you anticipated. For a second, you weren’t sure if he was still talking about the role or about something else entirely. The air between you thickened again, the tension suffocating, though not entirely uncomfortable. It was the kind of tension that made your heart race, the kind that left you wondering where the line between professional and personal blurred.

"Thanks," you murmured, trying to shake off the growing heat in your chest. You didn’t trust yourself to say more. You could still feel his eyes on you, studying your reaction, and it made your pulse quicken.

“It can be intimidating at first,” he admitted, his tone reassuring as he leaned slightly forward, elbows resting on the table. There was a sincerity in his voice that made you feel at ease, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “But I’ll make sure you’re always comfortable. They can write some pretty crazy plot lines in there, so just let me know if you ever feel uncomfortable doing a scene. I’ll talk to Jonah if I have to.”

His words hit you suddenly, unexpected in their warmth and assertiveness. You paused, lips pursed in contemplation, trying to grasp the significance of his commitment to protect you from any overwhelming scenes. The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken understanding as you wondered if this was the kind of guy he was towards everyone—protective and kind—or if this consideration was reserved solely for you, his co-star.

Regardless of the reason, you felt flattered, a soft blush creeping to your cheeks as a sense of security enveloped you, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. His presence across the table offered a calming reassurance that you hadn’t anticipated.

“Oh, well thank you,” you finally replied, sincerity coloring your voice. “Nobody has ever done that for me.”

There was a moment of silence, and in it, you could see a flicker of understanding pass between you—a shared acknowledgment of what was ahead. His blue eyes held yours with an intensity that made your heart race, as if he was searching for something deeper within you.

“It’s important,” he said softly, his tone earnest. “Acting can be raw and vulnerable. It’s easy to get lost in it all, especially when the emotions run high. I just want to make sure you feel safe.”

You nodded, a swirl of emotions churning within you as you searched for the right words. The moment felt fragile, hanging delicately in the air between you, and you didn’t want to shatter it with any misstep. Yet, the intensity of his demeanor made you feel small and nervous, as if the weight of his gaze was both exhilarating and suffocating.

Breathless, you sat across from him, the man who was still practically a stranger, yet in this moment, it felt as if you had known him for years. There was a strange familiarity in the way he looked at you, a connection that ran deeper than surface-level pleasantries.

“Thank you, Drew,” you finally managed to say, your voice softer than you intended, tinged with sincerity.

His smile widened, a warm and genuine expression that sent a flutter through your chest. “Of course. I’d be happy to do that for you,” he admitted, softly biting down on his bottom lip as his eyes flickered between yours and your lips, as if caught in a moment of contemplation. It was a fleeting look, but it made your heart race, igniting a mix of anticipation and curiosity within you.

“And I’m sure the rest of the cast will do the same. They’re great to work with,” he added, taking it upon himself to shift the mood, straightening his posture as if shedding the weight of the moment. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment at the change in direction, yet a part of you understood the necessity of pacing yourself. Maybe diving too deep too soon was better left for later.

“Yeah, I’ve heard great things about them. I’m excited to meet them next,” you replied, attempting to mask your intrigue with enthusiasm.

Drew nodded, his expression brightening as he spoke about the cast. “You’ll love them. We all hang out outside of filming too. It’s like a little family, you know? Makes the long hours much more bearable.”

You giggled slightly at his comment, a lightness in your chest blooming as you absorbed the warmth of his enthusiasm. “Well, I’m honored to now be a part of it,” you joked back, a playful lilt in your voice.

Drew’s eyes sparkled at your smile, the corners of his lips curving upward in a genuine grin that seemed to radiate joy. It was as if your lightheartedness sparked something within him, and for a brief moment, the café around you faded into a backdrop.

“I think you’ll fit right in,” he replied, his tone sincere and warm, and you could sense the unspoken camaraderie beginning to take root between you. It felt refreshing, as if he was offering a piece of reassurance that made going ahead seem a little less daunting.

You felt a surge of confidence at the playfulness in his tone, fueling the conversation further. “And what makes you so sure of that?” you teased, a hint of mischief in your voice, as if daring him to justify his statement.

Drew’s tongue grazed across his teeth as he pondered your question, his blue eyes narrowing slightly in thought. The pause between you was brief, yet charged with a subtle tension, the kind that comes when two people are testing the boundaries of familiarity. His gaze locked onto yours, and for a moment, you felt as though he could see right through you.

“You just seem like a likable person,” he replied, his voice soft yet confident, the corners of his mouth lifting in a sly smile. His tone was earnest, but there was something about the way he said it that made your pulse quicken—like he knew more than he was letting on, like he could already sense there was more to you than what lay on the surface.

You couldn’t help but smirk, leaning slightly forward as if to match his energy. “Is that your professional actor assessment?” you quipped, raising a brow, trying to mask the flutter in your chest with humor.

His grin widened as if your playful retort amused him. “Maybe,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair, completely relaxed yet fully engaged. “Or maybe I’m just good at reading people.” His eyes glimmered with something more—an invitation, perhaps, to challenge him further.

Your heart raced slightly as you matched his stare, the game between you intensifying without either of you needing to acknowledge it. You felt emboldened by the easy rapport, as though you could push the conversation anywhere, and it would still feel natural, still flow effortlessly. There was something refreshing about it, and it left you wanting to keep the banter going just a little longer.

“Well, you could be wrong, you know,” you shot back, your voice lilting with amusement. “I could be the least likable person you’ve ever met, and you wouldn’t even know it yet.”

Drew chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Somehow, I seriously doubt that,” he said, his tone low and smooth, leaving just enough mystery in his words to keep you guessing.

“I guess we’ll have to see,” you shrugged nonchalantly, playing into the lighthearted banter. Drew’s eyes sparkled with amusement, as if your coy responses were entertaining him in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Despite the casual nature of the conversation, there was something in the air between you that made it feel deeper, more charged.

He leaned in slightly over the table, his body angled toward you, his presence suddenly filling the small space between you. “You know,” he began, his tone shifting to something a little more serious, yet still playful, “if we’re going to be working so closely together, why don’t we start hanging out more? It’ll make everything on-screen more believable.”

His suggestion hung in the air, sending your mind reeling. Your initial instinct was to question it—was this about the job or something more? His words seemed casual, but the way he looked at you now, with a sincerity that felt more personal than professional, told you there might be another layer to his offer.

You tilted your head slightly, trying to read him, your lips curling into a small smile. “You think so?” you asked, your voice soft but teasing, leaning just enough into the moment to keep things light, while still acknowledging the subtle tension between you.

Drew’s gaze didn’t falter. “Yeah,” he nodded, his smile widening. “The better we know each other, the easier it’ll be to build that connection on-screen.” He paused for a second, watching your reaction, and then added with a smirk, “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to get to know you a little better off-screen too.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile back, trying to keep your cool. You glanced down at your hands for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I guess that makes sense,” you replied, your voice light and playful, though you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

The suggestion seemed innocent enough on the surface, but the underlying implications—the chance to spend more time together, to see if this chemistry extended beyond the lines you’d be reading—made your pulse race just a little faster.

“Alright,” you said, leaning back in your chair with a shrug, pretending to be more nonchalant than you felt. “Let’s give it a try. See if we can make this whole thing more believable.”

Drew smiled in agreement, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that seemed to settle the tension between you. He opened his mouth, about to say something more, but was interrupted by the soft buzz of his phone lighting up with a text. He glanced down at it briefly before shifting his attention back to you, his smile still faint but genuine.

“It’s been nice getting to know you a little more. I really enjoyed this,” he admitted, his voice sincere. You noticed his gaze flicker toward the window, as though he was checking for something or someone, before returning to you. “Why don’t I give you my number so we can plan something soon?”

Your heart skipped at the casual offer, but you maintained your composure, feeling the air between you both shift into something more comfortable, yet still charged with potential. “Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied with a small smile, trying to keep things light despite the slight flutter in your chest.

Drew pulled out his phone, tapping on the screen before handing it over to you. You quickly typed in your number, handing it back to him, your fingers brushing briefly as you exchanged devices.

“Great,” he said, locking the phone and slipping it back into his pocket, his smile widening. “I’ll text you later, and we can figure something out. Maybe something less... formal,” he added with a playful wink, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Sounds like a plan.”

"I'll see you later, Y/N." Drew’s voice was soft, still carrying that same warmth and kindness that had made you feel so at ease throughout the afternoon. He offered you one last smile before gathering his belongings and heading toward the door.

You watched him as he stepped outside, the sunlight casting a soft glow on him as he made his way to the black SUV parked out front. There was something effortlessly graceful about the way he moved, the casualness of it, yet it left you with a feeling of weightlessness. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered as you saw him disappear into the car, the sound of the engine starting up almost muted by the rush of your thoughts.

The café around you sounded with the usual hum of life, but your mind was far from the present moment. Instead, it replayed every detail of the past hour—the way he had smiled at you, the easy flow of conversation, the unspoken connection that had blossomed between the two of you. You could still feel the warmth of his gaze, the way it made you feel seen in a way that felt both exhilarating and unsettling.

As you sat there, a small smile crept onto your lips. The butterflies in your chest wouldn’t settle, and you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted them to. Something about today had changed things, and as you grabbed your bag and stood up to leave, you realized the anticipation for whatever came next was already beginning to build.

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