#and every passing car let's my heart skip in hope

[myheartxmyman]

You always said how important loyalty, trust, respect are for you.. But you weren't loyal, broke my trust and disrespected me during the worst year of my life.

[achenetype]

Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷

OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts

edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god

i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury

listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell

You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.

Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.

But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."

He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.

Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.

Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."

You nod, but stay quiet.

He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"

When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.

"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"

"Sure," you said. "Super fun."

And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.

And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.

Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."

"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.

You hated that look.

"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."

You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.

Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.

"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.

"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."

She scoffed.

You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.

You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.

Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.

That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.

"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.

Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."

"Then why do you do it," you asked.

When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."

"Did you fight with Dad?"

Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."

You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"

She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."

The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.

"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"

She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.

Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."

She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."

"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"

She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"

At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.

“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”

“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” 

She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”

It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment. 

And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod. 

And you never saw her again.

“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.

He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.

You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out. 

“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”

“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.

The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.

“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”

Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”

You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”

Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold. 

“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.

You raise an eyebrow. “This?”

He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”

You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off. 

You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.

Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.

He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.

Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says. 

Almost.

“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”

A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly. 

“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?” 

Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?

Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.

Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.

You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—

—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—

—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—

—and three, Luke was right.

Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil. 

When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.

“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”

You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded. 

“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”

Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”

You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed. 

His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?

You smiled and nodded.

Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.

He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.

“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.

You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.

He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.” 

Of course he remembers.

You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.

In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”

You shrugged. “Sure,” you said. 

“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.” 

Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”

You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?

“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”

“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”

You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.

It’s almost time.

Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this. 

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.

Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 

“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.

You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”

Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”

“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.

“Are you scared?”

It’s your birthday. 

You think you’re going to die. 

Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it. 

“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”

You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all. 

You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”

“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—” 

You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.

“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.

Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”

He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.

Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—

“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”

He freezes. “What?”

You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”

Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”

“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”

Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”

You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”

Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.

He’s crying. Why is he—

“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes slip shut.

I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 6/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap, "cheating", kinda spicy scenes

Word Count: 7503

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The second you stepped into your house, closing the door softly behind you, Jensen let out a guttural yell and slammed both palms against the steering wheel. “What the fuck was I thinking?”, he cursed loudly, the frustration and regret boiling over.

He sat there, breathing heavily, replaying the events of the last twenty-four hours in his mind. What had he expected? You had only spent one night together, sharing a few stolen kisses and vulnerable moments. He was much older than you, still legally married with children to think about. Why had he even considered that something more could come from this?

Jensen leaned his forehead against the steering wheel, his thoughts a chaotic whirlwind. You had been clear about your reservations from the start, reminding him of the age gap and the complications of his situation. Yet, despite all the red flags, he had allowed himself to hope, to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something real.

“And now look at me”, he muttered to himself, his voice filled with self-reproach. “Rejected in the worst way possible”.

Meanwhile, inside your apartment, you leaned heavily against the closed door, trying to reconcile the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you since meeting Jensen. You couldn't believe how drawn you felt to someone you had only just met. Love at first sight, soulmates, fate—all of it seemed like romantic notions from movies, not something that could happen in real life. Yet here you were, grappling with feelings that had taken you completely by surprise.

You paced the living room, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of Jensen's warm smile, his gentle touch, and the way he had made you feel alive, even if only for a fleeting moment. You hated how your heart had skipped a beat every time he looked at you, how your thoughts kept drifting back to him despite your best efforts to push them away.

"It's just a moment", you whispered to yourself, a mantra to ward off the ache in your chest. "In a few days, I won't even think about him again. Jensen will be just a little memory in the back of my head".

But deep down, you knew it wasn't that simple. There was something about Jensen that had stirred a longing within you, a desire for connection and understanding that you hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't just about physical attraction or a moment of shared intimacy. It was the glimpse of what could have been—a bond that had the potential to grow into something deeper, if only circumstances had been different.

You sighed heavily, sinking onto the couch and burying your face in your hands. You needed to focus, on letting go of the fantasy that had briefly taken hold of your heart.

As the hours passed, you busied yourself with mundane tasks, trying to distract yourself from the ache of disappointment and longing.

Jensen, too, drove through the streets with a heavy heart, his mind replaying your parting words over and over.

As Jensen parked the car in front of Jared’s house, he hesitated for a long moment before finally gathering the resolve to step out and head inside. Gen had taken the kids to her mother’s for a few days, which meant Jensen and Jared had the house to themselves. It was supposed to be a time to relax and enjoy each other’s company, but Jensen’s mind was weighed down with thoughts of you and the conversation that had just transpired.

When Jensen entered the house, he found Jared sitting on the couch, a slice of pizza in hand despite the early hour. Jared’s easygoing demeanor shifted as soon as he saw Jensen’s expression. He could tell something was off just by looking at his friend.

“Hey, man”, Jared greeted cautiously, setting the pizza down on a napkin beside him. “You’re back early. How did it go?”.

Jensen sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair before dropping onto the nearest armchair. He stared at the floor for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

“Not great”, Jensen finally admitted, his voice tinged with regret. “Fucking awful actually”.

Jared’s brow furrowed in concern as he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Jensen. “What happened?”.

Jensen hesitated, grappling with how to articulate the mess he had made. “I screwed up, Jared”, he confessed quietly. “She… she said she doesn’t even want a friendship, let alone something more”.

Jared’s expression shifted from concern to confusion. “How did that happen?”, he asked, genuinely puzzled. “She seemed pretty into you”.

“I don’t know, man”, he muttered. “I thought… I thought there was something there, you know? But I pushed too hard, too fast. I guess she realized it was all too complicated”.

Jared nodded slowly, processing Jensen’s words. “So, what now?”, he asked, his tone gentle but probing.

“I don’t know”, Jensen admitted. “I need to figure this out, Jared. I can’t keep going on like this”.

Jared sighed deeply, watching Jensen with a mixture of sympathy and concern. He knew his friend well enough to understand that this rejection would weigh heavily on him for some time. Seeing Jensen genuinely attracted to someone was a rarity, and it was clear that you had left a deep impression.

“Should I text her?”, Jared asked cautiously, sensing Jensen’s despondency. “Maybe just to check in, see if there’s anything salvageable?”.

Jensen shook his head slowly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “No”, he murmured quietly. “She’s done with me, Jared. She made that clear”.

“But what did you say to her?”, Jared pressed gently, leaning forward as he searched for answers. “What turned her off so hard?”.

Jensen rubbed his temples wearily, frustration etched on his face. His shoulders slumping even further as he tried to articulate the turmoil inside him.

“I couldn’t even sit down in a cafe with her”, Jensen muttered, his frustration evident. “I was afraid someone might recognize me, you know? And then I took her to the park instead. I kept looking around, making sure no one would see us. She must have thought I was ashamed of her or just… just cheating on my wife without any deeper meaning”.

Jared listened quietly.

“Shit”, Jared finally replied, his voice sympathetic. “She must have felt really sidelined… Did you explain to her about being an actor, about why you couldn’t be seen with her while still being married?”, Jared asked.

Jensen shook his head, his frustration evident. “No”, he muttered. “I should have, but by then, the damage was already fucking done. She had already made up her mind about me”.

Jared sat back, mulling over Jensen’s words as they lingered in the air between them. He could sense Jensen’s regret and genuine feelings for you, despite the short time you had spent together. The way Jensen spoke about you made it clear that there was more to this than just a passing attraction.

After a moment of thoughtful silence, Jared spoke up again, his voice softer now, “You really care about her, don’t you?”.

Jensen looked up, meeting Jared’s gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and resignation. “Yeah”, he admitted quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “More than I expected to, honestly. There’s something about her… I can’t explain it”.

Jared nodded knowingly. He had seen Jensen with women before, but this seemed different. There was a depth to Jensen’s feelings that went beyond physical attraction or casual interest.

“She’s under your skin”, Jared observed gently. “Sometimes, that happens when you least expect it”.

“I think I’m gonna take a nap”, Jensen mumbled finally, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “I just need to clear my head”.

Jared nodded understandingly, removing his hand from Jensen’s shoulder. “Yeah, go get some rest”, he encouraged gently.

Two days had passed since you met Jensen for that stupid coffee. Despite your best efforts to move on and push the thoughts of him aside, his presence lingered in your mind like an unwelcome guest. Every minute seemed to be consumed with thoughts of Jensen—his smile, his voice, the way he looked at you. It was maddening how someone you had known for such a short time could have such a profound impact on your thoughts and emotions.

You found yourself replaying the moments spent together in your mind, analyzing every word and gesture. Had you been too harsh in your judgment of him? Should you have given him another chance to explain? These questions gnawed at you, fueling a sense of regret and longing.

Needing to pick up tomatoes for dinner, you headed to the nearby grocery store. As you approached the checkout counter, you spotted Jensen in a nearby aisle. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, uncertainty flooding your senses. Should you talk to him? Apologize? But before you could decide, three girls approached Jensen.

They greeted him with enthusiasm, engaging him in lively conversation. Laughter echoed from their group, and you felt rooted to the spot, watching their interaction unfold. Seeing Jensen surrounded by attention only reinforced your earlier convictions. You couldn’t deny the pang of disappointment and frustration that washed over you.

The way he interacted with those girls confirmed your belief that perhaps you had made the right decision to distance yourself. It seemed he wasn’t worth the emotional turmoil you had experienced.

But unbeknownst to you, those girls were merely fans.

You bit your tongue and turned back toward the checkout counter, determined to ignore the tumultuous feelings Jensen’s presence stirred within you. As you paid for your tomatoes, your mind raced with conflicting thoughts. You hadn’t noticed Jensen spotting you, his focus clearly drawn to the fans around him.

Meanwhile, Jensen bid farewell to the enthusiastic fans with a polite smile, his mind distracted by the sight of you in the store. He quickly paid for his item, a six-pack of beer, and headed outside, scanning the area in search of you.

Outside the store, Jensen’s heart raced with anticipation and uncertainty. He wanted to find you, to explain himself, to make things right somehow. The regret of not fully explaining his situation gnawed at him, and he hoped for another chance to connect with you.

As you walked towards your car, each step felt like a deliberate effort to distance yourself from the emotional turmoil inside. You reached your car, fumbling with the keys as you tried to unlock the door, your thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and unresolved feelings.

Spotting you near your car, a surge of relief and nervousness washed over him. Jensen hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach you after everything that had transpired between you.

Taking a deep breath, Jensen walked towards you, his pace measured yet determined. He approached cautiously, not wanting to startle you but desperate to bridge the gap that had grown between you since that coffee.

“Hey”, Jensen called out softly as he neared your car, his voice carrying a mix of apprehension and hope. He stopped a short distance away, giving you space while silently hoping you would turn to acknowledge him.

Your heart raced at the sound of Jensen's voice calling out to you. Mentally cursing yourself, you turned around slowly, trying to steady yourself. Your knees felt weak just from meeting his gaze again, the intensity of the emotions from the past few days flooding back all at once.

You managed a soft "hey", your voice barely above a whisper. You attempted a smile, but it felt forced, not reaching your eyes where the turmoil of conflicting emotions lingered.

Jensen noticed the tension in your smile, his heart sinking a little at the sight of your guarded expression. He took a hesitant step closer, the distance between you palpable yet daunting.

"Can we talk?", Jensen asked earnestly, his voice tinged with both regret and a desperate longing for understanding.

You hesitated, uncertain whether you wanted to reopen that door of vulnerability. Yet, deep down, a part of you yearned for closure, for clarity on what had transpired between you.

"I… I guess so", you replied softly, still grappling with your own conflicted feelings.

Jensen nodded slightly, sensing your hesitation but grateful for the chance to speak with you again.

“How have you been?”, Jensen asked gently, his voice tentative yet sincere. His eyes searched yours, hoping to gauge your mood and perhaps find a glimmer of warmth or forgiveness.

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. His question was simple enough, but the complexity of your emotions made it difficult to formulate a straightforward answer.

“Fine”, you replied finally, your voice quiet yet firm. “Just… fine”.

Jensen nodded slowly, sensing the weight behind your words.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about our… conversation”, Jensen continued cautiously, choosing his words with care. “I didn’t handle it well. I should have explained things better”.

You nodded slightly, acknowledging his words without fully accepting them.

Jensen sighed heavily, a mix of frustration and remorse evident on his face as he brushed a hand over his features. The baseball cap he wore was turned backward, making him look even better, which tugged at your already conflicted emotions.

“Look, I’m sorry”, Jensen began, his voice earnest as he met your gaze with sincerity. “I didn’t mean to come off the way I did that day. It’s just… I’m not good at this kind of thing. And I should have been clearer”.

His words hung in the air, vulnerable and genuine. You could see the effort in his eyes, the desire to make amends for the misunderstanding that had driven you apart.

“I know I messed up”, Jensen continued, his tone softer now, more introspective. “I should have told you about… everything. About my situation, about why I acted the way I did”.

You listened. His admission of fault was unexpected yet somehow comforting.

Jensen took a breath, gathering his thoughts as he looked at you with a mixture of sincerity and vulnerability. His voice was low and earnest as he continued, wanting desperately for you to understand.

"I want you to know that I'm not a cheater", Jensen said firmly, his gaze unwavering. "There's a lot more going on than just my marriage. It's complicated… But… Meeting you… it stirred up feelings I haven't felt in a long time".

He paused, searching your face for any sign of acceptance or understanding. "I just want you to know that I'm not an asshole", he added, his voice tinged with a hint of self-reproach. "I never meant to mislead you or hurt you. I should have been more upfront about everything".

Jensen's words hung in the air, his sincerity palpable. You could sense the turmoil within him, the weight of his own guilt and the genuine desire to set things right between you. It was clear that he carried a burden of regret, and his openness now seemed like a genuine attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between you.

As you hesitated, Jensen stepped even closer, carefully placing a hand on your upper arm. His touch was gentle yet filled with unspoken apologies and a plea for understanding. Your heart raced, torn between the comfort of his presence and the uncertainty that still lingered.

“I… I need to go”, you whispered softly, your voice barely audible over the bustling sounds of the street.

As you whispered your need to leave, Jensen reluctantly withdrew his hand, nodding in quiet acceptance. His gaze followed you as you turned and hurried away. He stood there for a moment, watching your car pull out of the parking lot and drive off into the distance.

Jensen felt a mix of disappointment and understanding wash over him. He knew deep down that rushing things had pushed you away, yet he couldn't shake the regret of not being able to convey his feelings clearly enough. As you vanished from sight, he couldn't deny the ache in his chest, a testament to the depth of emotions you had stirred within him.

For the past two days, you had occupied his thoughts incessantly. Despite his attempts to distract himself, your presence lingered in his mind, haunting him with what-ifs and regrets. He had hoped that time would dull the intensity of his feelings, but instead, they had only grown stronger.

As the day wore on, Jensen found himself drowning his sorrows in a haze of alcohol with Jared. What had started as a casual drink had quickly escalated into a full-blown session of trying to forget, with each glass bringing a temporary reprieve from the ache in his heart.

The conversation between Jensen and Jared had meandered from the upcoming convention to more personal matters, inevitably circling back to you. Jared, ever the supportive friend, listened as Jensen poured out his frustrations and regrets about the encounter earlier that day.

“I saw her today”, Jensen slurred slightly, his voice tinged with melancholy. “Tried to talk to her… but it just went to shit again”.

Jared nodded sympathetically, his own words slightly slurred from the effects of alcohol. “Damn, man. I’m sorry it went down like that”.

“Yeah”, Jensen muttered, taking another sip of his drink. “Should’ve known better”.

Just then, Jensen’s phone buzzed on the table, breaking the heavy atmosphere of their conversation. He glanced at the screen and saw Danneel’s name flashing in the caller ID.

“Danneel’s calling”, Jensen announced. He sighed heavily before answering the call, barely able to say “Hi”, before Danneel launched into a tirade.

“Jensen! You were supposed to text the gardener to stop cutting the trees in the garden! I can’t believe you forgot again!”, Danneel’s voice came through loud and clear, filled with frustration.

Jared glanced over at Jensen, his eyebrows raised in concern as he listened to the one-sided conversation. He knew how intense Danneel could be when things didn’t go according to plan.

“Calm down”, Jensen tried to interject, but Danneel cut him off.

“No, I will not calm down! This is important!”, Danneel continued, her tone sharp and authoritative.

Jensen sighed again, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. He glanced at Jared apologetically, mouthing the words “Dee’s on a roll”.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ll take care of it”, Jensen finally managed to say, his voice resigned.

Danneel huffed audibly on the other end of the line. “You better, Jensen!”, she retorted.

“I’ll handle it”.

“Good. Don’t mess this up again!”, Danneel warned sternly before hanging up abruptly.

Jared chuckled sympathetically, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. "Man, She´s really got you on a tight leash these days", he remarked, his tone half-joking but with a touch of genuine concern.

Jensen chuckled dryly, nodding in agreement. "Tell me about it. She's always been on top of things, but lately…". He trailed off, his expression reflecting a mix of frustration and fond exasperation.

"Yeah, she's definitely gotten bitchier over the years", Jared added quietly, trying to lighten the mood.

Jensen shot him a playful glare, though there was a hint of appreciation in his eyes. "Watch it, Padalecki", he teased in a mock-serious tone. "Or I might just let her loose on you next".

Jared chuckled again, taking a sip of his drink before leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. “You know, I sometimes wonder if Danneel´s secretly training for a role as a drill sergeant”, he teased lightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I mean, she’s got the whole ‘command and conquer’ vibe down pat”.

Jensen let out a genuine laugh at that, appreciating Jared’s attempt to inject some humor into the situation. “You might be onto something there”, he replied, shaking his head.

Jared smirked playfully. “Yeah, just make sure she doesn’t take that whip and chains thing too literally”, he joked, winking.

Jensen snorted, nearly choking on his drink. “You’re not helping, man”, he managed to say between laughs, grateful for the distraction from his own thoughts.

Jared sighed, the laughter fading as he adopted a more serious tone. “You really need to think about ending things for real, Ackles”, he said quietly. “I actually talked to my lawyer earlier, and he said he’d be more than happy to take your case”.

Jensen’s smile faded, replaced by a look of resignation. He swirled his drink in his glass, staring at the amber liquid as if it held the answers to his problems. “I know”, he replied softly. “It’s just… complicated. There’s so much history, and the kids…”.

“I get it”, Jared interrupted gently. “But you’re miserable, man. It’s not just about you anymore. If you’re unhappy, the kids will pick up on that too. You deserve to be happy, and they deserve to see you happy”.

Jensen nodded slowly, absorbing Jared’s words. Deep down, he knew his friend was right. Living in limbo, trying to balance a failing marriage while navigating new feelings for someone else, wasn’t fair to anyone involved.

Jensen sighed deeply. He set his glass down on the table, the ice clinking softly as he considered Jared’s suggestion.

“Maybe talking to a lawyer wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all”.

Jared nodded in understanding, relieved that Jensen seemed open to taking a step towards resolving his situation. “It’s worth exploring your options”, he encouraged gently. “At least then you’ll know where you stand”.

Meanwhile, you sat alone at your kitchen table, absently pinching at your food with your fork. Guilt gnawed at you as you replayed the events with Jensen in your mind. He had tried to reach out, to apologize and explain, despite not deserving the treatment you had given him. Your thoughts and suspicions had clouded your judgment, painting Jensen in a negative light based on incomplete information.

"Maybe he's right", you whispered to yourself, pushing your food around on the plate without much appetite. "Maybe he isn't an asshole".

Jensen had shown vulnerability and sincerity, yet you had been quick to judge and dismiss him. The weight of regret settled in your chest, knowing you had acted rashly out of hurt and misunderstanding.

You recalled the look in Jensen's eyes, the genuine effort he had put into explaining himself. He didn't deserve to be treated with such skepticism, especially when he had been nothing but kind during your brief encounters.

"I should have given him a chance to explain", you murmured to yourself again.

You wondered if it was too late to reach out, to apologize for your assumptions and see where things could go from there.

You thought about it for a while, the internal debate raging between your sense of pride and your genuine desire to make things right. Eventually, the latter won out. Determined to apologize to Jensen and clear the air, you got dressed and headed to your car. Nervousness gnawed at you as you drove to Jared’s house. It was already 12 at night, and you weren’t sure if they would still be awake, but you felt compelled to go through with it.

When you arrived, you parked your car and took a deep breath before walking up to the front door. You rang the doorbell and waited anxiously, your heart pounding in your chest. After what felt like an eternity, the door finally opened, revealing Jared standing there with raised eyebrows, clearly surprised to see you.

“Hey”, Jared said, his tone a mix of curiosity and mild confusion.

You swallowed hard, feeling a bit out of place but determined to see this through. “Hi, Jared. I’m really sorry to bother you so late, but I… I need to talk to Jensen. Is he still awake?”.

Jared’s expression softened as he took in your anxious demeanor. He nodded and stepped aside to let you in. “Yeah, he’s here. We’ve been having a bit of a late night ourselves. Come on in”.

You followed Jared inside, your nerves only intensifying as you heard Jensen’s voice from the living room. Jared led you to where Jensen was sitting on the couch, a beer in hand. Jensen looked up, his expression shifting from surprise to a mix of curiosity and caution when he saw you.

Jensen wore grey sweatpants and a black hoodie, a stark contrast to the polished appearance he had presented earlier. Despite the casual attire and slightly messy hair, or perhaps because of it, he looked more attractive than ever. The sight made your heart pound even more.

“Hey”, Jensen said softly, sitting up straighter, his casual demeanor shifting to one of attentive curiosity. His eyes met yours with a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the situation, before finally speaking. “Do you have a moment?”, you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Jensen nodded, his expression serious but welcoming. “Of course. Come on, sit down”.

You moved to the couch and took a seat next to him, the tension in the air palpable. Jensen watched you closely, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and hope.

Jared sensed the need for privacy and quickly excused himself, saying, “I need to grab something from the garage. You two take your time”. With that, he left the room, leaving you alone with Jensen.

As you sat next to Jensen, the familiar scent of his cologne hit you, instantly making you feel nervous again. Memories of the way he had kissed and touched you in the pool flooded your mind, making your knees weak. You bit your lip and looked down, trying to steady your thoughts.

Jensen, sensing your hesitation, gently nudged your knee with his. “Hey, it’s okay”, he said softly, his voice filled with warmth. “Tell me what’s going on”.

If Jensen weren’t slightly drunk, he’d probably be just as nervous as you, but the alcohol gave him a semblance of calm. He watched you with a patient, encouraging expression, urging you to open up.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened”, you began, your voice shaky but determined. “About how I reacted and what I said. And… I realized I was unfair to you. I judged you without really understanding your situation, and I’m sorry for that”.

You continued, your voice barely above a whisper, “I had no right to be that bitchy. You’ve been nice to me from the start, and we’re not even together or anything. We just met, and I already caused so much drama, which usually isn’t me. It shouldn’t be an excuse for my behavior, but my emotions got the best of me”.

Jensen listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours. He could see the turmoil and sincerity in your expression, and it tugged at something deep inside him.

“The fact that I feel so drawn to you despite everything—your age, your relationship status, my own situation—it just made my mind blow up”, you admitted, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you spoke the truth. “I guess I didn’t know how to handle it, and I lashed out”.

Jensen sighed softly. “I get it”, he said gently. “Believe me, I do. This whole situation is a mess, and I didn’t handle it well either. I should have been more upfront about everything from the start”.

You whispered, barely audible, "I don’t know why there's such a pull, but I just can’t seem to stay away from you".

Jensen looked at you, his expression softening even more. He squeezed your hand gently, his voice low and sincere. He paused for a moment, searching for the right words to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "Must be my irresistible charm and good looks", he said with a half-smile, trying to inject a hint of humor to ease the tension.

You chuckled softly, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Yeah, that must be it", you replied with a playful grin, feeling a bit more at ease.

Jensen leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Or maybe it's just that we're both a little crazy".

You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Maybe", you admitted, your eyes meeting his with a newfound sense of connection.

Jensen's gaze held yours, the unspoken understanding between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

A heavy silence settled between you both, each lost in your thoughts. Finally, you spoke up, breaking the tension. “So, what now?”.

Jensen sighed deeply, standing up from the couch. “I think the best thing right now is for me to get a coffee”, he admitted with a rueful smile. “I’m pretty drunk at the moment, and I want to be clear-headed for this conversation”.

You nodded, appreciating his honesty. “I’ll make us some”, you offered, rising to your feet, still remembering where the kitchen was.

As you made your way to the kitchen, Jensen followed closely behind. You could feel the weight of his presence, a mixture of comfort and tension. Once in the kitchen, you busied yourself with finding the coffee and setting up the machine, grateful for the distraction.

Jensen leaned against the counter, watching you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, I really didn’t expect to see you tonight”, he said quietly, his voice laced with vulnerability.

You glanced up at him, your hands pausing momentarily. “I wasn’t sure if I’d come either”, you admitted. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about how we left things”.

Jensen nodded, his gaze steady on yours. “I’m glad you did,” he said softly.

As the coffee machine hummed to life, filling the kitchen with the rich aroma of brewing coffee, you gathered your thoughts and looked up at Jensen. “Can I ask you something?”, you inquired softly, your eyes searching his for permission.

Jensen nodded, his expression earnest. “Of course. Ask me anything”.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your question. “What exactly is going on with your marriage? You mentioned it was complicated, but… I need to understand”.

Jensen sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he considered his response. “It’s been a mess for a long time”, he began, his voice tinged with frustration and regret. “Danneel and I, we’ve grown apart over the years. We’re still together for the kids, and because… well, ending things is complicated too”.

You nodded slowly, absorbing his words. “So, you’re separated?”.

“Not officially”, Jensen admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. “We live in the same house, well, sometimes… but we’re not… together. It’s like we’re just coexisting. And it’s hard, because I don’t want to hurt the kids. But at the same time, I can’t keep living like this”.

“That sounds indeed incredibly difficult”.

Jensen looked up, meeting your gaze. “It is… And then I met you, and it felt like… like a chance to feel something real again. But I didn’t handle it well".

The coffee machine beeped, signaling that it was ready. You turned to pour two cups, handing one to Jensen. “I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions”, you said softly.

Jensen took the cup of coffee from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly, sending a shiver down your spine. He took a long sip, savoring the warmth and the bitter-sweet taste, needing a moment to gather his thoughts.

You leaned against the kitchen counter opposite him, watching him intently, waiting for him to continue. His eyes met yours, a mixture of vulnerability and determination shining through.

Jensen took a deep breath, looking down at his coffee cup before meeting your gaze again. “I need to explain something about that day in the park”, he began, his voice steady but tinged with uncertainty. “The reason I kept looking around and why I couldn’t sit down in the café with you…”.

He paused, gathering his thoughts, then continued, “I’m an actor. Not like Channing Tatum famous, obviously, because you didn’t recognize me. But enough people know me that it can be a problem. So, maybe now you can understand why I can’t be seen with someone in public. Everyone thinks I’m happily married, so…”.

You nodded slowly, absorbing his words. “So, you were afraid of being seen with me and causing a scandal?”.

“Yeah, exactly. It’s complicated. I should have been upfront about it, but I didn’t want to scare you off or make things even more awkward”.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the swirling thoughts in your mind and make sense of what Jensen had just revealed. His confession was a lot to process, especially since it would undoubtedly influence whatever was developing between the two of you. You swallowed, feeling a mix of understanding and apprehension.

Jensen could sense your tension, and he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yeah”, he murmured, his voice tinged with regret. “That’s why I didn’t say anything earlier. I didn’t want to complicate things further”.

You bit your lip, contemplating everything Jensen had just shared. The complexity of his situation weighed heavily on you, making it difficult to see a clear path forward.

Jensen, sensing your inner turmoil, mumbled, “Another dealbreaker, I know”. He rubbed his face with his hands, the frustration evident in his movements. “Sometimes, I wish I was just a normal person”.

You looked at him, seeing the vulnerability and the weight of his struggles etched on his face. It was clear that his life wasn’t as glamorous as it might seem from the outside. “I don’t think it’s a dealbreaker”, you said softly, surprising even yourself with your honesty. “It’s just… a lot to take in”.

Jensen met your gaze, hope flickering in his eyes. “I get it”, he said quietly. “And I don’t expect you to have all the answers right now. I just wanted you to know the truth”.

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion. “I appreciate that”, you replied, your voice steady.

A silence stretched between you as Jensen watched you, his gaze shifting back and forth from your eyes to your lips, capturing every subtle expression. There was a palpable tension, a mixture of hope and apprehension. Finally, he broke the silence with a question that seemed to come from a place deep within him.

“What is it about you?”, Jensen whispered, his voice rough with emotion. His eyes searched yours intently, seeking an answer, or perhaps understanding. “Why do you hold me so captive?”.

You were taken aback by the raw honesty in his question. It was clear he was grappling with his feelings, trying to make sense of the connection that had sprung up so unexpectedly between you. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, feeling the weight of his gaze.

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing”, you admitted, your voice soft. “There’s just something about you, Jensen. Something that feels… right, despite all the complications”.

Jensen’s brow furrowed slightly, as if he were trying to decipher a complex puzzle. “Do you think”, he started hesitantly, “do you think there’s a chance for us? I mean, can we find a way to make this work?”.

Jensen’s eyes widened slightly as he realized the weight of his words. Panic flickered across his face, and he quickly waved his hand dismissively. “Forget what I just said”, he mumbled, his voice filled with regret. “I’m drunk. I shouldn’t have—”.

But before he could finish his sentence, you found yourself unable to hold back any longer. Placing your mug on the counter with a soft clink, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Your hands moved instinctively to cup his face, and you gently pulled him down toward you.

Jensen’s breath hitched, and for a split second, he hesitated. But as your lips met his, all doubts melted away. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration, but quickly deepened as the emotions you had both been holding back surged to the surface.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as he responded with equal fervor.

The world around you dissolved as the kiss deepened, every touch and sensation heightened. Jensen’s lips were warm and insistent against yours, moving with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the emotions between you. You could feel his hesitation give way to a growing confidence as he pulled you closer, his hands firm and possessive on your waist.

Jensen’s tongue brushed gently against your lower lip, seeking entrance. Your lips parted instinctively, allowing him in, and the kiss became more urgent, more demanding.

The taste of him, mingled with the faint hint of the coffee you had both been drinking, was intoxicating. You could feel the heat rising between you, a pulsing, almost electric connection that seemed to burn away any lingering doubts or fears.

One of your hands slid up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through the soft hair there, while the other remained on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch. Jensen’s hands began to roam, moving from your waist to your back, pulling you even closer until there was hardly any space left between your bodies.

Before you could pull away, Jensen moved with a newfound urgency, turning the two of you until your back pressed against the cool surface of the kitchen island. With an effortless strength that made your heart race, he lifted you onto the countertop, bringing you to his eye level. The height difference between you no longer an obstacle, he stepped closer, his hands firmly gripping your hips and pulling you against him until your bodies were flush.

The sudden contact, the sensation of his firm body pressed against yours, sent a thrill through you. You could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your clothes, every point of contact sparking with an intense electricity. Jensen’s hands roamed from your hips to your back, holding you close as his kiss deepened, growing more passionate, more consuming.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as your lips and tongues continued their fervent dance.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around Jensen’s hips, pulling him even closer. The sensation of his half-hard length pressing against you through the fabric of your clothes made your breath hitch and your heart race. Every touch, every movement intensified the electric connection between you, leaving you both breathless and yearning for more.

Jensen’s hands continued to explore, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He groaned softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you and deepening your desire. Your hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, clutching at him as if he were the only thing grounding you in that moment.

Jensen pulled back slightly, his breath ragged as he looked into your eyes. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”, he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Your eyes locked onto his, your voice barely a whisper as you replied, “Show me”.

With a growl of approval, Jensen captured your lips again, his kisses more urgent, more demanding. His hands roamed down your back, gripping your hips tightly as he rocked against you, his arousal evident and only fueling your own.

The intensity of the moment built, each touch, each kiss fanning the flames between you. It was as if nothing else existed, just the two of you lost in this whirlwind of passion and need. The kitchen island beneath you seemed to disappear as you surrendered completely to the overwhelming desire that had brought you together.

Jensen’s lips left yours, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you gasp and arch against him. The feel of his lips, his breath on your skin, was almost too much to bear, yet you couldn’t get enough. You wanted him, needed him, in a way that defied logic and reason.

“Jensen”, you breathed, your voice trembling with the depth of your need.

“I need you”, Jensen whispered, his voice low and hot against your neck. As he pressed his erection harder against your clothed pussy, a whimper escaped your lips, a sound that seemed to echo through the room. To Jensen, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, and it fueled his desire even more.

His hands gripped your hips more firmly, pulling you impossibly closer as he continued to grind against you, the friction eliciting soft moans from both of you. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and the intensity of the moment made your head spin.

Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the muscles tense and flex under your touch. You needed him as much as he needed you, and the urgency of your desire was palpable.

Jensen’s lips found yours again, kissing you with a desperate passion that matched your own. His tongue danced with yours, exploring and teasing, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Without breaking the kiss, Jensen’s hands slid under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your back. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, and you arched against him, craving more of his touch.

He lifted you slightly, his hands moving to the waistband of your pants. With a deft movement, he unbuttoned them, his fingers brushing against your skin and making you gasp. The need to feel him closer, to have him inside you, was overwhelming.

Jensen lifted you off the counter and carried you to the couch, laying you down gently. His lips never left yours, the passion and intensity between you growing with every moment. Just as Jensen’s hands began to explore your body more intimately, the sound of a door opening and closing echoed through the house.

Suddenly, Jared’s voice rang out, louder than intended. “Oh, fuck!”, he exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise. “I’m so sorry!”.

You both froze, the moment shattered by Jared’s unexpected entrance. Jensen quickly pulled away, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment on his face. You could feel your cheeks burning as you hurried to adjust your clothing, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Jared stood awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes averted. “I, uh, didn’t realize… I mean, I’ll just… yeah, sorry”, he mumbled, backing out of the room hastily.

As the door closed behind Jared, an awkward silence settled between you and Jensen.

The two of you sat there in the aftermath of Jared’s interruption, the air thick with a mix of arousal, embarrassment, and the lingering desire that still pulsed between you. Jensen sat beside you on the couch, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, matching the flush in your cheeks as you tried to calm your racing heart. The intensity of the interrupted moment still hung in the air, a palpable reminder of how close you had been to something deeper and more intimate.

You looked down, your cheeks still flushed with the heat of the moment. “I’m sorry for kissing you”, you mumbled, feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability.

Jensen chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry”, he said, his voice filled with warmth and a hint of amusement. “You just did what I was too scared to do”. His gaze dropped to the very obvious bulge in his sweatpants, and he cursed under his breath, a mix of frustration and self-deprecating humor.

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a little of the tension ease away. “Well, then I’m glad I did", you admitted, your voice still soft but filled with sincerity. “But maybe Jared did us a favor. We should probably take things a bit slower”.

Jensen nodded in agreement, his eyes meeting yours once more. “Yeah, you’re right”, he said, his tone serious but gentle. “There’s a lot to figure out, and I don’t want to rush this… Whatever this is”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 7

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Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78

[faithshouseofchaos]

Hi! I was wondering if I could ask for Vamoire!Checo with this prompts, hope it's not a bother 🤍

Skittles -"My little slut to ruin."

Tootsie rolls -"shhh I got you sweet heart just lie back and let me take care of you"

Jaw breakers "you like this don't you baby? The feeling of my fangs brushing against your neck."

Airheads— "aww look at you turning into the dumb slut I know you are at the sight of my cock"

Vanilla flavored ice cream -angry sex in the middle of a fight

“You’re not going anywhere” Vampire!Checo Perez x fem!reader

Word count — 4.6k

Warnings— checo stalks and kidnaps the reader, smut (p in v), oral fem receiving, fingering fem receiving, reader gets called a slut, a little bit of praise and a little bit of degrading, possessive checo.

Tagging— @selfishpresley @barcelonaloverf1life @isurvived3-11andimproud @octavikravecell218 @afriques

You first crossed paths with Checo during a thrilling Grand Prix weekend, a time filled with the roar of engines and the excitement of speed. You and your friend had managed to score some coveted passes into the Red Bull garage, where the atmosphere buzzed with adrenaline and anticipation.

As you explored the garage, surrounded by cars and the scent of motor oil, Checo caught sight of you. At that moment, he was struck by a feeling he couldn’t quite articulate—a mix of awe and infatuation. He later joked that he saw an angel amidst the chaos of the track, and if his heart had any ability to skip a beat, it surely would have.

Compelled by this unexpected connection, Checo did what he thought best: he pursued you, albeit in a charmingly awkward way, often finding reasons to be near. For months, he kept this light-hearted stalking up, trying to catch your eye during races and meet-ups, hoping to summon the courage to introduce himself. The days turned into weeks, filled with unexpected glances and half-hearted attempts to approach, all while he dreamed of a moment where he could finally talk to you in person.

However, time seemed to work against him, and life continued on its relentless course. Fate intervened when he discovered you were getting married to another man. The news hit him like a punch in the gut, stirring up a fierce determination within him. As the big day approached, Checo's mind churned with possessive thoughts and an uncontrollable desire to claim you as his own.

He had to take action as your wedding date drew nearer. One evening, under the cover of night, he snuck into your home like a silent shadow, his senses attuned to every creak in the floorboards. He found you resting in your bed, completely unaware of his presence as you lay there, vulnerable and unsuspecting.

He hovered over you, watching your chest rise and fall with each breath, a mixture of protectiveness and lust coursing through him.

He reached down, gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hand, his touch almost like a whisper. He marveled at your serene beauty, unable to resist the urge to be even closer. With a swift yet controlled motion, he leaned in and scooped you up into his arms, holding you against his chest with a possessiveness that only grew stronger.

You stirred slightly in his arms, awakening slowly, your awareness taking in the unfamiliar surroundings and the strong arms wrapped around you. As your eyes opened, a shiver ran down your spine, a mixture of fear and confusion clouding your thoughts. He saw the shock in your eyes and tightened his grip, his voice a velvety murmur in the darkness.

"Shhh, cariño, you’re safe with me."

He carried you out of your bedroom, silently making his way to the waiting car outside. The night air was cool against your skin as he gently laid you down in the backseat, his eyes never leaving yours. He slid into the driver's seat and started the car, the engine purring to life.

As he steered the vehicle through the deserted streets, he reached out and ran his fingers through your hair, a possessive gesture that betrayed his desires.

“I can’t let you marry him," he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “You belong to me, cariño. You’ve always been mine.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and the car's silence amplified the intensity of the moment. His possessive declaration held a hint of obsession, a need that had been burning within him since he first laid eyes on you.

He continued driving, his eyes occasionally flickering to you in the rearview mirror. He wanted to keep you close, to make sure you were safe and most importantly, under his control.

Hours passed, and the sun began to peek over the horizon as the car finally came to a halt in front of a secluded cabin hidden deep within the woods. He got out of the car and opened the back door, lifting you out with an almost tender possessiveness.

He carried you up the porch steps and into the cabin, the morning light filtering through the windows and bathing the room in a soft glow. The interior of the cabin was cozy, with an air of wilderness sophistication. He gently placed you on the couch, his hands lingering for a moment before he stepped back, his eyes never leaving your face.

You looked around the cabin, your mind racing with questions and fear. The reality of your situation sank in, and the realization of being in the hands of a man who claimed possession over you gnawed at your sense of safety. Chico leaned against the wall, his gaze fixed on you, his jaw clenched with a mixture of possessiveness and a hint of vulnerability.

“You’re not going back," he finally said, his voice firm but with an undertone of tenderness. “You’re staying here, with me.”

“Why are you doing this?” The tremor in your voice betrayed the anxiety churning within you, but it was the look in your eyes that truly revealed your fear. They widened in disbelief, and your body shook slightly, an involuntary response to the tension in the air.

He stepped closer, a confident smirk playing on his lips. “I already told you,” he said in a low, almost menacing tone, “when I want something, I will stop at nothing to get it.” He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle between you. “And what I want... is you.”

His gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering, sending an icy shiver down your spine as the gravity of the situation hung palpably in the air.

He circled the room, his steps almost predatory, his movements laced with a dark possessiveness. He came to a stop behind the couch, his hands resting on the back of it, his body leaning over you.

"You’re mine," he repeated, his voice a low rumble. "I’ve watched you, studied you, longed for you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being with anyone else."

His eyes darkened as he stared down at you, the possession in his gaze almost tangible.

He leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your skin, and gently lifted your chin with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You belong to me now," he murmured, his words possessive and absolute.

"And I won’t let you go."

He stood up straight again, a satisfied look of determination on his face. He walked over to a nearby table and poured himself a glass of whiskey, the liquid swirling in the glass as he thought. He looked at you for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"You must be thirsty," he said, his voice slightly more casual as he picked up a second glass and poured some water into it. He crossed the room and sat down next to you on the couch, offering you the water. You hesitantly accepted the water, your hand shaking as you held the cold glass. The liquid felt soothing on your dry throat, but the situation was anything but comforting. His presence, so close and intense, was almost overwhelming.

He noticed the way your hand trembled. His expression softened just slightly, and he gently placed his hand over yours, steadying the glass. "Calm down, cariño. I’m not going to hurt you."

He continued to hold your hand, his touch firm and reassuring. "I just need you to understand something,” he began, his voice a low murmur. “I’m serious when I say I won’t let you go. I can’t let you marry some other man when you were meant to be with me."

He leaned closer, his face just inches from yours, his breath warm on your cheek. His eyes darkened, his gaze fixated on yours. "You’re mine," he repeated, his voice a whisper filled with determination. "You’ve always been mine. I was just waiting for the right time to claim you."

He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft yet possessive. "I’ve watched you, longed for you, craved you for months," he confessed, his voice still low and quiet. "And when I found out you were getting married, it was the catalyst I needed to finally act."

He paused, letting his words sink in before his gaze hardened again. “And now, you’re here, with me, where you belong. I’ve waited for this moment forever, to have you in my possession, to make you mine in every way possible.”

—-

“Let me go!” you shouted, straining against Checo's iron grip that enveloped your wrist. His hold was firm but not painfully tight, though you could feel the faint sting beginning to develop, hinting at the light bruise that would likely mark your skin later. It had been several weeks since Checo had taken you against your will, whisking you away to a secluded cabin deep in the woods, far removed from the bustle of civilization. The isolation of the cabin made every creak of the floorboards and rustle of the leaves outside sound magnified in the eerie silence. In those weeks, you had discovered a shocking truth: Checo was not merely human but a vampire, an ancient creature of the night, with a presence that both fascinated and terrified you.

Checo's eyes darkened at your desperate plea, a flicker of irritation passing over his features. He quickly composed himself, tightening his grip on your wrist and pulling you closer.

He leaned down, his face only inches from yours, his breath cool against your skin. "And why would I do that, mi preciosa?" he asked, his voice a low, possessive murmur.

"You belong to me now," he continued, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. "You're mine to keep, mine to protect, mine to savor."

He lifted his head, his eyes boring into yours, their depth and intensity almost hypnotic. He shifted slightly, his body pressing you against the wall, his hands pinning your wrists above your head. He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above yours, a taunting distance that left you both frustrated and craving more.

"It's pointless to resist," he murmured his voice, a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "You're here now, stuck with me, under my control. And I have no intention of ever letting you go."

He slowly released one of your wrists, his hand trailing down your arm to your shoulder, then to your face. He caressed your cheek gently, his touch a strange mixture of tenderness and possessiveness. His eyes, darkened with desire, searched yours as he ran his thumb along your lower lip. "I want you," he said, his voice hoarse with need. "I need you, cariño. And I won’t stop until I’ve completely claimed you as mine."

He leaned down, his body pressed against yours, his lips just millimeters from your own. He could feel the quickening of your breath, the racing of your heart, the mixture of fear and desire that seemed to consume you. He slowly closed the distance, his lips gently brushing against yours. The touch was soft, tentative at first, but then he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance, his body pressing even closer to you.

He released your other wrist, his hand moving to your waist, holding you firmly in place. He kissed you hungrily, his hunger and desire pouring into the kiss, consuming your thoughts and making it nearly impossible to think straight.

He broke the kiss, his breath coming in quick bursts, as he rested his forehead against yours. "You feel it, don’t you?" he whispered huskily, his voice a mix of triumph and desire. "The pull between us, the way our bodies respond to each other. We’re meant to be together, cariño."

He stepped back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze darted down to the collar of your shirt, where he tugged at the fabric, his fingers brushing against your bare skin. "I want to taste you," he said lowly, his voice taking on a rougher edge. "I want to taste every inch of you, claim you in the most primal way possible."

He leaned in again, his fangs brushing against the pulse point on your neck making it jump and your buck let out an involuntary moan. You like this don't you baby? The feeling of my fangs brushing against your neck." Checo says. Your skin tingles under his touch, and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine. His words, spoken in a low, almost sultry tone, send a thrill through you. You can't deny the mixture of fear and desire that courses through your veins, but the way your body responds to his touch betrays your growing need for him.

You swallow hard, unable to find your voice. You're trapped between the wall and his firm body, his words and his touch creating a storm of sensations inside you.

He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin, his fangs grazing your pulse point once more. "Answer me," he demands, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "Do you like the way I make you feel? With my fangs against your neck, threatening to pierce your skin, making you feel so vulnerable and alive."

His lips brush against your skin, a mere hint of a touch, but it's enough to send a wave of heat coursing through you. You can feel his body pressed against yours, the pressure and heat intoxicating, making it difficult to form a coherent thought, let alone a response. "You're mine," he repeats, as he slowly trails kisses along your jawline, his movements deliberate and possessive. "And I want to hear you say it. Tell me you're mine, and only mine."

You struggle to find your voice, your mind clouded with sensation, your body responding to his touch in betraying ways. Finally, you manage to find the words, your voice coming out as a breathless whisper. "I’m yours, and only yours."

"Good girl," he praises, his voice a deep, satisfied rumble. "Those are the words I want to hear.

He continues to kiss along your neck, his teeth occasionally grazing your skin, the threat of his fangs ever present, a constant reminder of his power and your submission to him.

You feel his arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer, his hands splaying across your back, his touch firm and possessive. His head tilts and his lips find yours in a searing kiss, his tongue parting your lips to delve inside.

The kiss is hungry and unyielding, a dominant display of possession and claiming. His hands roam your body, exploring every contour and curve with an almost primal need. One hand grips your waist, pulling you against him, while the other moves to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he devours your mouth.

You can feel his hard length against your abdomen, a clear testament to his desire. His breath hitches as his hand slides down to your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist, bringing you even closer. The new angle allows you to feel the full heat and hardness of his arousal.

His lips move to your ear, his breath coming in short, labored puffs. "You feel what you do to me, cariño?" he whispers, his voice a low, needy rumble. "How badly I need you, how much I want you."

Checo wrapped his strong arms around your leg, effortlessly lifting it to rest around his waist. You could feel the warmth radiating from him as he bypassed the living room and headed straight for the bedroom. In one swift motion, he playfully tossed you onto the bed, the soft mattress welcoming you as you sank into it, your heart racing with excitement. The sudden shift from the lively atmosphere to the intimate space heightened the anticipation, and you couldn't help but smile at the playful turn of events.

He didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath before he was on top of you, his body pressing down on yours, his arms caging you in, his knees on either side of your hips.

He looked down at you with a sly smile, his eyes dark and intense. "Now that I have you where I want you, what should I do with you, cariño?" he murmured, his voice dripping with desire.

His index finger traced along your face and jaw and then down your neck to your chest. His touch set your skin on fire, sending sparks of electricity shooting through you. You shivered slightly, his feather-light touch sending goosebumps rippling across your flesh. His finger continued its journey down your chest, tracing a path along the curves and valleys of your body until it reached the collar of your shirt before ripping the fabric in half revealing your chest.

He chuckled softly, his eyes drinking at the sight of your exposed skin. "Much better," he murmured, his fingers gently tracing the edge of your bra. "I prefer you like this, vulnerable and open for me."

His words sent a wave of heat crashing over you. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a whimper as his hands slowly slid down your sides, his touch gentle yet firm. He unhooked your bra with expert ease, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Look at me, mi vida,"

You lifted your eyes to meet his, the heat in his gaze making your heart race. "Yes?" you said, your voice coming out in a breathy whisper, betraying your arousal. Checo's grin grew wider as he discarded your bra, letting it fall to the ground. He reached out and gently cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "I've been thinking," he said, his voice low and husky.

You shivered at his touch, your body responding instantly to his touch. "What have you been thinking about?" you asked, your voice a breathless whisper, your mind already starting to swim with desire.

"How beautiful you look right now. And how I want to hear you moan my name." His hands continued to explore your body, his touch firm yet gentle.

You couldn’t help but moan at his touch, his words fanning the flames of your desire. "Checo," you breathed, the sound of his name on your lips sending a shiver down your spine. "Please...I need more."

He chuckled softly at your plea, his eyes dark with desire. "Such an impatient thing," he said, his tone teasing yet affectionate. "But I suppose I can give you what you want, cariño. I got your sweetheart just lie back and let me take care of you"

As you lay back, Checo's hands went to work. He unbuttoned your jeans, his knuckles brushing against your skin. He tugged them downwards, taking your underwear with them. He marveled at the sight before him, his eyes hungrily taking in every inch of your body.

"Damn, you're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He ran his hands up along your legs, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. He settled between your legs, his body pressed against yours, his weight pinning you to the mattress.

Checo leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh, his breath warm against your skin. He looked up at you, his eyes burning with desire. "I'm going to eat you out until you can't remember your name, mi vida," he promised, his voice low and husky.

Your breath hitched at his words, your body thrumming with anticipation. "Please," you gasped, your voice a broken whisper. "I need you, Checo. I need you now." Checo didn't say a word, he just dove in, his mouth latching onto your pussy, his tongue delving inside you, licking and sucking your clit. He ate you out like a starving man, his hands holding your thighs open wide as he devoured you.

A low, guttural moan escaped your lips, your body arching into his. "Mmmm," he hummed against you, the vibration of his voice causing you to shudder. Checo's tongue then flattened against you, lapping at you like a cat drinking milk. "Look at you, always trying to run from me. But you know what?"

You gasped as he continued to pleasure you, your mind swirling with pleasure. "W-what?" you managed to ask between ragged breaths. "You can never run from me, mi vida," he said, his voice muffled against your pussy. "Because no matter where you go, I'll always find you. And when I do, I'm going to eat this sweet little pussy until you can't walk straight."

Your body trembled at his words, your legs quivering around his head. "God, Checo," you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. Checo growled against your clit, the sound vibrating through your body. He sucked the sensitive bud into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it rapidly. At the same time, he pushed two fingers deep inside your tight heat, curling them to stroke your G-spot.

You gasped and arched your back, your hips bucking against his mouth. "Checo!" you cried out, your hands clutching tightly at the sheets. "

"That's it, mi amor," he urged, his fingers pistoning in and out of you as his mouth continued its assault on your body. "Scream my name."

"Checo," you cried out, your body trembling with pleasure. "Oh god, Checo!"

Your hands in his hair, your body arching into his touch, your mind consumed with pleasure. Checo doubled his efforts, his tongue swirling around your clit as his fingers pumped faster and harder. He could feel your walls starting to flutter around his digits, knowing you were close. He sucked your clit hard, wanting to feel you come undone. "Come for me, mi vida,"

Checo savored the way you tightened around his fingers as you convulsed with pleasure. He continued to lap at your center, drawing out your release until you were writhing and begging him to stop. He slowly lifted his head, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

While you lay there on the bed catching your checo stripped off his clothes his hard aching leaky cock stood up and he gave it a few good strokes. "You look so peaceful, mi amor," he whispered, crawling onto the bed beside you. "But we're not done yet." He leaned down and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "I need to be inside you, now."

Propping yourself up on your elbows you take in checks from. The sight of his cock made you lick your lips. “aww look at you turning into the dumb slut I know you are at the sight of my cock"

"Oh, I'm just getting started on turning you into my little dumb slut, mi vida." Checo chuckled, positioning himself at your entrance. He nudged your still quivering center with his head, coating himself in your juices.

“Checo please” you pleaded.

"Please what, mi amor?" he taunted, slowly pushing into you inch by inch, his face contorting with pleasure. "Ask me to stretch this tight little hole. Beg for it."

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do but please just— just fuck me,” you begged.

"Mmm, such a good girl," he purred, finally burying himself to the hilt inside you. He stayed still for a moment, savoring your tight heat. "This is what you needed, isn't it? To be filled up by my big, hard cock.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, not even paying attention to what the vampire was saying. All you knew was that the feel of his body on yours and the way his cock stretched you out felt way too good.

Checo smirked at your vacant expression, knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. He slowly withdrew, only to thrust back inside you, hard. "Look at me, mi vida," he commanded, his pace quickening.

“You are my slut to ruin and no one else’s. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

"Y-Yes... Only yours..." you whimpered, your fingers digging into his back as he slowly picked up the pace. "Please, Checo... Harder... Please..."

"Anything for you, cariño," he murmured against your skin, his voice a low, sultry rumble. He shifted his position, his hips pressing against yours as he thrust into you with increased force and speed. He wrapped your legs around his waist

Checo groaned as he felt your legs tighten around him, pulling him impossibly deeper. "That's it, mi amor. Take every inch of my cock like the perfect little slut you are."

Your heart raced violently in your chest, each beat echoing like a relentless drum, while beads of sweat trickled down your brow, stinging your eyes. A tremor traveled through your body, overwhelming you as Chec surged deeply into you, filling every inch with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The heat of the moment wrapped around you, igniting a whirlwind of emotions that left you breathless and exposed.

"You're so close, aren't you, mi vida?" Checo hissed, his eyes locked onto yours as he continued to pound into you. "Come for me. Now." He growled

the last word, his voice dripping with dominance.

"Not... till... you do..." you gasped, meeting his intense gaze, your nails digging into his back. Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. The heat between your bodies was intense, the air thick with the scent of sweat and desire.

"You drive me... crazy..." Checo groaned, his voice hoarse with passion. His hands gripped your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. He could feel your heart racing against his chest, your breaths coming in short gasps.

Checo's eyes darkened with lust as he felt your nails raking down his back, urging him closer. He thrust deeper, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat. "Dios mío," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "You feel incredible..."

You writhed beneath him, your body arching and writhing in pleasure. "Checo," you gasped, your hands digging into his shoulders. "Oh god, I can't...I can't take much more."

"Then come for me, mi amor," Checo growled, his voice low and commanding. His rhythm became more insistent, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. He leaned down to capture your mouth, muffling your cries as the waves of pleasure washed over you. "That's it, baby,"

You cried out against his lips, your body shaking with pleasure. "Checo, I'm...I'm coming!" you gasped, your body shuddering against his.

"Say my name again," Checo demanded, his voice tight as he felt your inner walls tightening around him. His release was close, and he wanted to hear you say his name as he found his peak. "Say it, now." His voice was hoarse, his breath hot against your ear.

"Checo," you panted, your voice shaky and breathless. "Oh god, Checo!" Your body shuddering, your nails digging into his skin. He groaned, his hips stuttering and he buried himself deep inside you.

"Fuck," he whispered huskily, his breath coming in shuddering gasps. "Mi Vida," he murmured, his voice barely more than a gasp. He buried His head in the crook of your neck as he sunk his fangs into your neck.

The feeling of his fangs was a mixture of both pain and pleasure that had you gasping and arching up against him. His body trembling against you with one last thrust he released inside of you riding out both of your highs.

"You're mine," he whispered, removing his fangs from your neck, his fierceness and possessiveness. "Mine, forever. You're not going anywhere, mi amor."

[helios-writings]

I Drank Dry the River Lethe

Osamu Dazai x gn! Reader

wc: 1.2k

Warnings: none

Dazai is in love with you, he has no idea. He just knows that you make him feel…weird.

Dazai doesn’t know what’s happening to him, as far as he’s aware, you don’t have a special ability. But, that has to be the only explanation for how his heartbeat quickens whenever you walk into the room, how his breath is stolen every time you smile. How every accidental touch makes him yearn for more, like a siren song he can’t get out of his head, even if he were to jump overboard.

You were always so kind to him, a far cry from Kunikida who you claim to be best friends with. But it’s Dazai who you always hand a cup of coffee to, Dazai who you always save a pastry for. He can’t bear it, your kindness. Like he doesn’t deserve it. He’s sure you know, and yet….you still smile at him. Your smile is so bright it could rival the sun, and Dazai wouldn’t mind burning in its ultraviolet rays.

He’s staring at you now, as you sit on the corner of where Atsushi is sitting, talking animatedly at him, gesturing so wildly with your hands you nearly hit yourself in the face. You laugh, embarrassed. It’s like music to his ears, he wants to record the sound and play it on repeat over his headphones so he never forgets it, so it's ingrained into his brain.

“Dazai,” you say, “want anything from the shop?”

He blinks, taken out of his thoughts by the lilt of your voice. “What?”

You're next to him now, the scent of your body spray nearly intoxicating to him. He wants to press his nose to your throat and drink it in.

“The shop, I’m going to pick up lunch from there. Do you want anything?”

He stands, stretches and yawns. “I’ll just come with you.”

You roll your eyes, but smile still. “Well, don’t make it sound like such a chore, I could’ve offered to get you nothing.”

Dramatically he leans against your shoulder, hand over his forehead, feigning a sorrowful swoon. “And starve me to death? How cruel, even for you.”

You laugh, Dazai loves making you laugh. He craves it, almost, wants to keep doing it.

“You’re so dramatic, but alright, come along.”

He’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked, but for now, the shop down the street would do.

You say hello to a bunch of people as you pass by, almost all of them complete strangers. You even hum as you walk. He’s so content watching you, that he almost runs into a lamppost.

You pull him away just in time and frown. “It’s not good to have your head stuck in the clouds all the time. What if you got hit by a car?! Dr. Yosano wouldn’t have been able to heal you!”

“Awe, you’re worried about little old me?”

You let him go. “You know what, actually? Next time you daydream I’m letting you hit the pole, and I hope you get the ugliest bump on the middle of your forehead. And when you beg and plead with me for an ice pack, I am going to say I told you so.”

You let the silence linger for one moment. “And then I’ll get you the ice pack.”

He laughs, absolutely enamored with you. “I knew you enjoyed my company.”

“Of course, that’s why I get gray hairs trying to keep you around. Now, come on. I’m starving and I want to grab a good onigiri before they’re all gone!”

You grab his hand and pull you along and oh. He thinks this is the first time you’ve touched him on purpose, the feeling of your hand so impossibly warm in his he doesn’t know what to think or feel. He wants to pull you into him, wrap you up in his arms and never let go. He could die in your arms and nothing else would ever be more perfect.

Dazai knows what he feels when he looks at you now, the shortness of breath, the skipping heart. It is no spell, no special ability.

He is in love with you, drawn to you like a moth to a flame, a nail to a magnet.

Suddenly, all he wants to do is tell you, the need clawing his way to the top of his throat, being stopped only by sheer will. He will not tell you this in a shitty convenience store, where anyone could overhear. No, he won’t do that. Dazai has some semblance of romance after all, even if Kunikida thinks the opposite.

“What do you want?” You ask, observing the onigiri with a seriousness that otherwise would’ve made him chuckle, had his very being not been shaken to the core.

His eyes land on the first bento he sees and he grabs it. “This is perfect.”

You raise a brow. “Are you okay? Did you actually hit your head and I didn’t see?”

Dazai rolls his eyes. “I’m just really in the mood for….salmon.”

He absolutely was not in the mood for salmon, but you shrugged and continued perusing for the items the rest of the ADA had asked for. He even managed to regain some state of being long enough to help you carry the bag back to the agency.

You grin brightly as you enter the office. “Lunch! And I can say with one hundred percent certainty that nothing got crushed. Except for Dazai, almost.”

“I’m telling you, I could’ve avoided any oncoming traffic.”

You roll your eyes, but smile at him in exasperation. “Okay, okay. You’re tough as nails.”

Dazai shoves the whole piece of salmon in his mouth to prevent the feelings from spilling out. He nearly chokes.

You hand him a glass of water, eyes crinkled in the corner from amusement.

***

It’s just you two in the office at the end of the day. The atmosphere is almost stifling now that he has the perfect chance to confess.

It’s funny, how easily he was able to proposition other people that he thought were perfect candidates for his dream. But now that it was you, someone he knows, that he cares for….he almost can’t get the words out. Everyone he’s ever propositioned pales in comparison to you, you have wholly ruined him; there’s no one on earth like you.

You’re nervous as you turn to him. “I know why you're acting weird.”

“You do?” Shit.

“You found out about my feelings for you. I knew I was too obvious.”

Dazai blinks. “Huh?”

Realization that he didn’t know dawns on you and you rush to leave, but he grabs your arm and pulls you into a desperate kiss, like if he didn’t kiss you in that moment he would explode.

Your lips against his are a religious feeling, something to worship. He wonders if he could get amnesia so he couldn’t experience them for the first time over and over again. Wonders if, perhaps, he’s already dead and this is his eternal heaven.

Knows he’s alive once you pull away and laugh, eyes shining in disbelief and joy. He kisses you again. You smile into it.

Dazai spends a lot of time doing that until he’s certain he’ll never get tired of it.

[thepersonnamedsam]

champion - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: abu dhabi 2024

word count: 1k

warnings: none

note: hiya, hope you’re all good? have fun with the second 1‘000 follower special :)

masterlist / taglist

The Race was intense, it was hot and steamy and all so risky. But he was so near. He could almost taste it, taste you. If he won this race, he’d be champion, champion of the world. His second most important price, you always come first, of course.

You stood in the Ferrari garage, your fingernails bitten down to the flesh. You were more nervous than he was. God, only four more laps to go. Charles was leading, but Max was only 0.6 seconds behind him. One mistake and Max would be a 4x World Champion.

But you were certain that he was gonna make it. Charles was your best friend and he deserved that title more than anything. He wasn’t just your best friend, you were gonna become his fiancée today if he won, but you didn’t know just yet. The ring was securely stored in his jewellery box inside his drivers room. You had no idea.

Three more laps to go.

You were sweating, not just from the heat, you were standing on your toes the whole time. Your heart pounded, probably as fast as Charles‘ car. This was gonna be it. Charles Leclerc, World Champion of 2024!

Frederic was standing beside you. His hands wrapped tightly around your shoulders, squeezing every other second, waiting for your boyfriend to finally finish that race. You both couldn’t wait anymore. „Fred, if he wins, will you pay him some therapy sessions?“, you joked. He only laughed at you. „He doesn’t need them after the win.“

Two more laps.

The anticipation only grew. At the time, probably everyone at home sat at the edge of their seats. Max was so close behind Charles. If he only lost some speed, Max would pass him. They made a show. And nobody liked it.

„Charles, Max is 0.4 seconds behind. Let’s switch to Plan C“, you heard Xavi over the coms. „Okay“, you heard your boyfriend say back. „What’s Plan C?“, you asked Fred. „He’s gonna let Max pass, get into his DRS zone and then hopefully he can pass him with greater speed.“

Your heart dropped into your stomach, Ferrari is gonna fuck Charles up against You knew it. It was not gonna work. And when Charles met Max pass, everything played out in slow motion. Max passed the red Ferrari, Charles tried to stay behind the Red Bull.

One lap to go.

It was silent in the Ferrari garage. You could hear a needle drop on the floor. Everyone was sweating. You stopped breathing, at least that’s what you thought, because honestly, no one ever stops breathing in these moments.

The moment Charles passed the Red Bull, the garage errupted into loud applause. Your heart skipped a beat, letting a small scream out. Excited for the new outcome. This was gonna be it, Charles will be champion. You could feel it.

The last meters were ahead of both cars, with Max only 1.7 seconds behind. Charles was gonna make it, he just couldn’t fuck it up. Nothing could happen now. And when Charles crossed that finish line and was declared Champion of the World, you cried. Happy tears streamed down your cheeks. A big prominent smile on your face and wet eyes.

„Go, go!“, Xavi ushered you out to the outside of the garage, where Charles would park his car on the number one spot. And there he stood, proud on his car, his hand up in the air, pointing to his late father. When he looked down again, he saw his whole proudness standing in front of him. You.

He got down from his car, quickly getting his helmet off and kissing you. You were so, so proud of him. Your champion. And when Carlos sprinted towards him with a suspicious little black box, you couldn’t believe what was going to happen.

„My love, mom bijou. I love you endlessly and I wouldn’t know what to do without you. You are my stars that light up the night. Tu es le soleil, qui répand la chaleur dans tout mon corps (You are the sun, that spreads warmth throughout my body). I love you with all my body, with all my heart, with all my everything. Will you make me the happiest man in the whole wide world and marry me?“

Your body shook from the cries. You couldn’t believe what was going on. Tears streaming down your face, you could only nod. And you nodded, looked at him with your tears stained face and got down to his level. You kissed him, so hard he couldn’t believe the force you had. And you said yes, of course you said yes.

Charles wasn’t only Formula One Champion, he was also the luckiest man on earth, with his big love in his arms, crying like the world might end. But it doesn’t, the world only just started for you two. Life was being written from a whole new perspective now. Not only is the luckiest, but you were los the happiest woman.

And the fahnden went crazy, Charles Leclerc, the 2024 champion got engaged to his long term girlfriend on the day he won the championship. And when he stood on the podium and received his trophy, he couldn’t stop smiling, not crying. He was looking down at his fiancée and the whole world stopped, just for a moment, just until he realised he was gonna marry this girl, for sure now. Not only in his dreams, but in reality too.

For him this day did not only mean he achieved his biggest goal, but also his biggest dream.

And for you, you were going to be the happiest bride on your wedding day, when you were going to walk down that isle and see this man standing in front of you

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @hiireadstuff , @biglittlesecret, @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21 , @mikauraur , @thybulleric , @lpab , @fdl305 , @mellowarcadefun , @teti-menchon0604 , @vildetry06 , @bibissparkles , @aurora-maria , @lunnnix , @sya-skies , @Buckywifeyy , @dakotali , @rechtrecht , @noncannonships , @1eclerc16 , @pitlanebabe , @sopheeg , @avengersheart , @thatsadsmallchild , @peachiicherries , @idkiwantchocolatee , @callsign-scully , @mehrmonga , @badbatch-simp24 , @lissyontour , @din0nugs , @elliegrey2803 , @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis , @10vely-yutazen , @daggersquadphantom , @azriel-the-shadowsinger , @i-love-scott-mccall , @darleneslane , @mikauraurr , @heartmetaphor , @ellswilliams , @thxtmarvelchick , @nataliambc , @dontjudgeabookbythecover , @hockeyboysarehot , @thehistoryone , @zimm04 , @woozarts , @mellowarcadefun , @deephideoutmolkshake , @grimeslvrr , @tallrock35 , @namgification , @pear-1206 , @trouble-sistar

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

heavy warnings - SA!!, vague mention of drug use - if any of these topics make you uncomfortable the scene involving SA will be outlined and please don’t feel the need to read it, please take care of yourself🩷

y/nn = your nickname for anyone confused

Chapter 3

Time had become my enemy. Matt was due to return to the States on March 1, 1960. I had only a few months left to spend as much time with him as I could.

Every minute I wasn’t with him, I thought of him. My life was now dominated by him and yet there were times when I would be disappointed by him. One evening he told me he would call and didn’t. When I finally heard from him the next day, he said, “Hi, Baby. Do you think you can come over tonight?”

“What happened last night? You were supposed to call.”

“I was? Oh shit.” He had been concentrating on his karate lesson and had forgotten.

I had to learn not to take his words to heart. It was disappointing, but it was just his way.

Matt’s calls usually came after seven to let me know that I’d be picked up around eight. I had to dress quickly, trying to find some way to appear older than my age. His father was concerned about Matt being with a minor. My clothes were all young and unsophisticated skirts and sweaters. At times I’d borrow my mother’s clothes and hope everyone would assume that I was at least sixteen.

As I got to know Matt, I learned that when he wasn’t at the base, he stayed at home all of the time. He had little choice. The moment he stepped out of the door there was a giant mob scene around him. Even going to see a local movie required elaborate planning. Someone would drive Matt’s car in front of the house. He would then run out, hurdle the fence, and duck into the car before any of his fans could start begging him for autographs. There were always crowds after him, calling, standing outside the house, literally charging at him when he entered any public place. Many evenings when Matt had early morning calls it was either David Jones, a friend who Matt had brought over from the States, or James Sturniolo who drove me to and from 18 Hauptstrasse.

One particular evening when neither David nor James was able to drive me home, Matt had a “friend” who was called Pete take me.

THIS SCENE INCLUDES SA!!

if this topic makes you uncomfortable please skip.

Pete was driving me from Matt’s home back to Wiesbaden. I was tired and dozing off. All of a sudden, I felt the road get bumpy. I opened my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You’ll find out,” he said, turning his head away.

We had driven off the highway onto a dirt road. I could see the lights of one distant house, and the rest was all blackness. I began to get frightened. “What’s going on?” I inquired, confused. By then Pete had stopped the car and shut off the ignition.

I repeated my question, but Pete didn’t answer. Instead, he turned and grabbed me, trying to kiss me. I pushed him away, struggling. He threw me down on the seat.

Panicked, I begged, “Don’t! Leave me alone!” I started fighting. I kicked one door open and opened the driver’s door with my hand while simultaneously banging the horn, hitting the lights, and scratching at his face. Out of frustration and fear of being caught, he finally gave up.

The rest of the way home, he never said a word. I just sat there sobbing, disbelieving, praying that I would get home safely.

END OF SCENE

Three days passed from that night before I heard from Matt. My parents knew something was wrong; however, I couldn’t tell them Pete tried to attack me because I would never be allowed to ride with him again. If I didn’t, how would I get to and from Matt’s if David and James weren’t available? My imagination ran wild. I was afraid to tell Matt because I thought Pete was his friend. I began to think that perhaps Matt knew what Pete had attempted. Maybe I was just a plaything to Matt, someone to pass around to Pete, or anyone else who wanted me. I was tortured by my thoughts.

Finally, Pete called and said Matt wanted to see me. I had no choice but to go with him.

During the drive to Bad Nauheim, Pete made no mention of what had transpired between us, and neither did I. I said nothing. I was very apprehensive being with him. I didn’t know, when he removed his hand from the steering wheel, if he was going to try to touch me, or just what was on his mind. I had no choice but to tell Matt.

That evening, when we were alone in his room, Matt asked me if anything was wrong.

My voice was trembling. I could hardly get the words out.

When I finally did tell him, Matt went crazy. “I’m going to kill him,” he shouted. He paced the floor, cursing Pete. I was his little girl, Matt said, and he had never gone all the way with me. Now this other guy, this so-called friend of his, had tried to rape me. I listened as he shouted, secretly relieved at his response. How could I ever have doubted Matt?

Matt was so angry, it took me the whole evening to calm him down. I finally convinced him that we had to keep Pete’s attack secret from my parents, or I’d never be allowed to come back. Matt held me tightly, as if trying to take the painful memory away. He felt guilty for having put me in such a dangerous position.

From that time on, Pete was fully excluded from Matt’s life. I don’t think Matt ever told him why, but Pete must have known. He rarely came around after that.

I began to realize that Matt expected total loyalty from his friends. If he was betrayed, he would just cut that person out of his life.

James was now sporting a neatly trimmed mustache that, according to Matt, Angela Stanley had encouraged him to grow. Mine and James’s conversations in the car were somewhat boring, and I always sensed he’d just as soon be doing something else, like spending the time with Angela, who sometimes accompanied him.

These days when I arrived at 18 Hauptstrasse I’d often find Matt upstairs studying the ancient art of karate with his instructor or downstairs in the living room proudly demonstrating new moves to his entourage, who stood about interested at his mastery of this newly popularized art form.

Matt also spent hours with a half-mad German masseur who had him convinced he could rejuvenate facial skin with his secret treatments, Matt having always been self conscious about some large pores on his face started to see him. Nate Doe ribbed Matt, saying, “What the hell’s he doing that’s so special? You look the same to me.” Defensively, Matt shot back, “Well damn! He says it’ll take some time before you see the results.” James interjected: “Time? Yeah, probably enough time to bankrupt us all by what he’s charging. I wouldn’t trust him farther than I could throw him.”

Always a center of activity at the house was Matt’s grandmother, who he nicknamed Dodger. Matt had come up with the name when he was a small boy of five and, during a temper tantrum, had thrown a baseball, missing her head by inches. Matt jokingly said, “She dodged out of the way so fast.” He started calling her Dodger from that moment.

Grandma took care of the household, did the cooking, kept everyone and everything under control. She had the air of a person with a firm purpose in life, which, in Matt’s case, was to make sure he was very well cared for. When I sought quiet while Matt practiced karate, Dodger’s room was a place to escape to. We’d sit for hours and she would tell me about the old days, about Mary Lou and her boundless love for Matt, about the grim struggle the Sturniolos had waged for survival. She had been with James and Mary Lou from the time of Matt’s birth, helping out when Mary Lou took jobs to contribute to the family’s support. A strong woman, Grandma had prevailed when her husband had walked out on her, leaving her with five children. She wanted you to believe she held a grudge against J. D. Sturniolo, but Dodger was a forgiving heart and I believe she still cared for him.

She helped raise Matt as if he were her own son, somewhat spoiling him as grandmothers do. She always rushed to his defence when she felt Mary Lou was too stern. Dodger said to me, “Mary Lou always called me Mrs. Sturniolo from the time I first met her until she breathed her last breath. One day Matt came running in and said, ‘Hi, Minnie!’ I felt so sorry for that young’un. Mary Lou rose up, took her hand to that boy, and said, ‘Don’t you ever call her by her first name. That’s disrespectful. She’s your grandma.’ He cried for an hour. I went in and said, ‘Son, it’ll be all right. She was just doing what she thought was right. Now you go in and apologize to her.’ Poor little boy looked at me with those blue eyes. So pitiful. Oh, she could be hard on him. He was a good boy, though. Never really got into any trouble, always came right home from school and did his chores. Yes, and Mary Lou would watch over him like a hawk, so scared he’d be hurt. He wanted so bad to play football at school.”

Grandma rocked back and forth in her chair, seeing something in the past that made her start picking at the bobby pins in her hair. She reached for her little box of snuff, took a dip, situated it just right, and then continued to reminisce. “Yes, he loved sports.”

“Then why didn’t he go out for any, Grandma?”

“Oh no. Mary Lou wouldn’t have that. She’d tell me, ‘Oh, Mrs. Sturniolo, I couldn’t stand it if Matt got hurt. It would kill me. I’ve watched how they play out there in those fields. They get real rough. I think they enjoy hurtin’ each other. Matt isn’t like that. He’d get out there and he’d be like a wounded bird in a pack of wild dogs. Not my young’un.’” Mary Lou’s constant effort to protect Matt, I learned, was the result of her anguish over the death of Matt’s twin brother Joseph Aaron Sturniolo.

I came to love Dodger and what she represented, compassion and total devotion to her family.

My biggest problem in those days was that Matt and I never seemed to have enough time alone. People were always dropping by, standing around the living room talking and laughing, until Matt came down from his room. As soon as he appeared, the room would become silent until he revealed his mood. No one, including myself, dared joke around unless he laughed and then we all laughed.

Because I had to share the little time I had with Matt with so many others, I began to feel jealous and possessive. It was only late in the evening, when we were in his bedroom, that I was truly happy.

We had a nightly ritual. At about ten or eleven, Matt would glance at me and look toward the stairs. Then, naively assuming that nobody knew where I was headed, I’d casually proceed to his bedroom, where I’d lie on his bed, impatiently waiting for him to appear. When he joined me, he’d lie as close to me as he could. “I love you,” I whispered. “Shhh,” he said as he put his fingers to my lips. “I don’t really understand what it is I’m feeling. I’ve grown to love you, y/nn. Dad keeps reminding me of your age and that it can’t be possible . . . When I go home . . . Only time will tell.”

Each night that I was with him he entrusted a little more of himself—his doubts, his secrets, and his frustrations. It was a lot to expect an impressionable fourteen year old to understand, but I tried. I felt his pain over his mother’s death. I ached over his desire to become a great actor like his idols Marlon Brando, James Dean, Karl Malden, and Rod Steiger. I was concerned about his fears that he might not regain the popularity he felt he’d lost by serving in the Army. And I reveled in his laughter when he asked, “What if one day I end up back driving a Crown Electric truck? Wouldn’t that be something?”

I was there for him, to listen, to hold his hand, or to make a funny face that would turn his frown into a smile.

Sometimes Matt would enter his bedroom in high spirits. I longed for those nights when he’d shut off the lights and lie close beside me.

“Sweetness,” he would say, putting his arms around me. “You’re so pretty, Honey.” And then we’d kiss long, deep, passionate kisses, and his caresses would leave me weak with desire.

Nights when his mood was calm and peaceful, he would describe his ideal woman and tell me how perfectly I fit this image.

He liked soft-spoken y/hc with y/ec eyes. He wanted to mold me to his opinions and preferences. Despite his reputation for being a rebel, he held the traditional view of relationships. A woman had her place, and it was the man who took the initiative.

Loyalty was very important to him, especially on the woman’s part. He constantly reminded me that his girl had to be completely constant. He admitted that he was concerned about Nicole. She was a Boston beauty queen and television personality. Matt said that lately her letters had become very impersonal, and he suspected she had been with another man.

Despite his moralizing, I feared Matt wasn’t always faithful to me. His bantering with some of the other girls at his house made me think that he might be intimately familiar with them.

One evening he was playing the piano for the regular group, plus a couple of English girls. When he picked up his guitar, he looked around, but couldn’t seem to find his pick.

“Anybody seen my guitar pick?” he asked.

One of the English girls looked up and smiled. “It’s upstairs on the night table next to your bed. I’ll get it.”

All eyes, including mine, zeroed in on her as she made her way up the stairs, aware that she was now the center of attention.

Furious at his obvious betrayal, I turned to him, but he was avoiding my gaze by looking down at his guitar, plucking it as if it needed tuning. Then he burst into “Lawdy, Miss Clawdy.”

Without a pick, his fingers must have hurt badly, but no matter what, he wasn’t about to put that guitar down. He knew he was in trouble.

After he’d finished a medley of songs, Matt excused himself and retreated into the kitchen, with me right behind him.

“Have you been with her?” I demanded.

“No,” Matt insisted.

“Then how did she know where your guitar pick and room were?”

“She was over one night, and I mentioned how dirty the place was,” he answered, a boyish grin on his face. “She offered to clean it, simple as that.”

Despite his declaration of innocence, I was not reassured. He was the sexual idol of millions and could choose whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted. I quickly learned, for my own survival, not to ask too many questions.

As the weeks passed, school became an unbearable chore. After getting to bed so late, I found it difficult to rise at seven and almost impossible to concentrate. But I knew that if I ever complained about being too tired, or was late for school, my parents would use the fact to put a stop to my seeing Matt.

My study habits became worse. I was failing algebra and German, and barely passing history and English. At the end of the fall semester, I altered the D-minus grade on my report card to a B-plus, praying my father would never consult the teacher. I kept telling myself that I would do better, that I’d catch up, but my concentration was totally on Matt.

One night when I went to see him, I fell asleep while waiting for him to finish his karate class. When he came downstairs and saw how exhausted I was, he asked, “y/n, how many hours of sleep are you getting?”

After a second, I said, “About four or five hours a night. But I’ll be fine,” I added quickly. “I’m just a little extra tired tonight because we had some tests at school today.”

Matt looked thoughtful, and then said, “Come upstairs a minute. I have something for you.” He led me up to his room, where he placed a handful of small white pills in the palm of my hand. “I want you to take these; they’ll help you stay awake during the day. Just take one when you feel a little drowsy, no more than one, though, or you’ll be doing handstands down the hallway.”

“What are they?” I asked.

“You don’t need to know what they are; they give them to us when we go on maneuvers. If I didn’t have them, I’d never make it through the day myself. But it’s okay, they’re safe,” he told me. “Put them away and don’t tell anyone you have them, and don’t take them every day. Just when you need a little more energy.”

Matt honestly thought he was doing me a favor by giving me the pills, and I’m sure the thought never entered his mind that they could be harmful to him or me.

I didn’t take the pills. I put them in a small box with various items I had started to collect, such as cigar holders and little personal notes he had given me, and hid the box in a drawer.

Later I learned that the pills were Dexedrine, which Matt had first discovered in the Army. A sergeant had given several men pills to help them stay awake while on guard duty. Matt, who was accustomed to living the life of an entertainer and who despised rising at dawn, began taking the pills to get him through the long dreary hours of Army life. He told me he’d begun taking sleeping pills shortly before he’d been drafted. He dreaded insomnia and feared sleepwalking, which had plagued him periodically since childhood.

In fact, as a boy, he’d once sleepwalked straight out of his apartment, dressed only in his underwear. A neighbor woke him, and, embarrassed, he ran back into the house. Another time, he nearly fell out of a window. Consequently, to avoid accidents, he slept with his parents until he was grown, and he feared his sleepwalking habit for the rest of his life. It was one of the reasons he usually had someone sleeping with him.

Years later, I learned that someone had been employed in Germany to watch over him throughout the night.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - i know this was a deeper chapter so for anyone who skipped it i promise its not very important to the story however Priscilla included this in her book so i thought i should share that too. 🎀

[astars-things]

Call your mom

Based on the Noah Kahan song Call Your Mom 

Warning contains talks of mental health 

Grab your tissues this is going to be a sad one x

Lando's POV 

I glanced over at Y/N, my heart sinking as I saw her sitting on the sofa in my streaming room. She was bouncing her knee anxiously, tears streaming down her cheeks. It wasn't the first time I'd seen her like this, and it always tore me apart.

Oh, you're spiralin' again The moment right before it ends, you're most afraid of

From the beginning of our relationship, I knew Y/N battled with her mental health. The constant barrage of hate comments, comparisons to her brothers, and the vile death threats she received online seemed to chip away at her resilience. No matter how much love and support I offered, there were moments when it felt like I was helpless to shield her from the cruelty of the world.

I moved closer to her, sitting down beside her on the sofa. Gently, I reached out and brushed away the tears from her cheeks, my heart aching with the need to comfort her.

Don't let this darkness fool you All lights turned off can be turned on

I sat there with her holding her until she was exhausted from crying, so I picked her up took her to our room and placed her in bed giving her a kiss on the forehead before going to my side of the bed and getting in, 

I heard movements at some point during the night but just thought it was our cat until I heard the front door shut, I jumped out of bed and quickly grabbed my keys, "she couldn't have gone far" I whispered to myself before releasing she can run fast and far 

I jumped in the car quickly started it and pulled out of the driveway, I had her Life 360 open so i could track where she was going and quickly drove to her location 

Medicate, meditate, save your soul for Jesus Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason Don't wanna drive another mile without knowin' you're breathin' So, won't you stay, won't you stay, won't you stay with me?

 when I saw her Life 360 location paused my heart pounded with every passing second she knew I would use it so I couldn't find her. The thought of her out there alone, battling her demons in the darkness, filled me with a sense of dread, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. 

 I knew that all lights turned off could be turned on again, but first, I needed to find her and remind her that she was not alone in this fight.

I climbed into my car and drove, the familiar streets blurring together in a haze of desperation and fear. "I'll drive, I'll drive all night," I vowed to myself, determination fueling my every move. I couldn't let her slip away, not now, not ever.

As I rounded a corner, my heart skipped a beat when I saw her silhouette standing alone on the edge of the road. I pulled up beside her, rolling down the window as she turned to face me with tear-stained cheeks and haunted eyes.

"Oh, dear, don't be discouraged," I murmured, the lyrics of the song tumbling from my lips like a prayer. "I've been exactly where you are, and I promise you, it will get better. But first, you need to come home with me."

She hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in her gaze, but then she nodded slowly as if she had finally found the strength to surrender to the safety of my embrace.

"I'll call your mom," I promised, reaching out to take her hand in mine. "And together, we'll face whatever comes our way, one step at a time."

As we drove back home, the weight of her struggles still heavy in the air between us, I knew that the road ahead would be long and difficult. But with love as our compass and hope as our guide, I was confident that we would find our way through the darkness, together.

[folkloresthings]

Okay, I know I said the last one was the last one, but I just keep having ideas and you write so much better than I do, I’m sorry (😭).

That said, can I pretty please ask for a NORTHANGER ABBEY with Fernando Alonso and the sunshine x sunshine protector trope? Like his S/O is super sweet and cheery and he wants to keep them from getting hurt? I just feel like that would be so cute!

Thanks in advance, my love, and I hope you’re doing well!! ✨🧚‍♂️💗

thank you darling dolly 💌

WHATEVER IT TAKES. ❨ fernando alonso x reader ❩

✩⡱ warnings: implied age gap bc duh it’s a nando fic

after twenty—two years in formula one, a driver learns how dangerous it can be. not the cars, not the crashes or the risking your life every time you break a little too late. no, it was much more dangerous off of the track, in front of the prying eyes and camera lenses: the lion’s den.

fernando knew well how he was to blame for this cloud of prejudice that followed him around. he’d quickly made a name for himself as a womaniser in the sport, a different girl at every race and a new one at night. that kind of reputation stuck, even at forty—two years old.

you were different. fernando knew, from the very moment he laid eyes on you, he wouldn’t be capable of treating you like a temporary plaything. you were a breath of fresh air, younger than him and oh so optimistic. he was getting old, losing out hope on ever having more than his racing career, and you had come along, bringing a whole new life with you.

hell, you’d even made his time at alpine fun.

he knew everyone on the grid would love you before they even met you, and his suspicions were correct. you were sweet, tooth—rottingly so, and every single person you came across couldn’t help but love you. nearly as much as he did.

the media, however, was not every person. no matter your heavenly goodness, the press would find any reason to belittle you. fernando alonso’s next playgirl, this month’s challenge, formula one gold digger. from the second things got serious, fernando swore on everything that he was to protect you from all of that mess.

it worked, for a while, dodging cameras and hiding nasty articles from you. the little bubble he’d created around your relationship was perfect. he could love you with his whole heart and not worry about anything ruining it. because, god, he couldn’t let anything ruin this — not the one good thing he had.

it was a few days after you’d arrived in barcelona for the race weekend. in fernando’s favourite little summer dress of yours, you skipped along to the track for the first free practice of the week. standing off to the sidelines, sharing a coffee with alexandra, everything was perfect. the sun, the cars, the feeling that everything was falling into place.

“y/n! y/n, can we get a picture!”

“y/n, any comment on fernando’s romantic past?!”

“what do you think about being labelled as the grid slut, y/n!”

the reporters had swarmed you in seconds, coming out of nowhere. tabloids, you presumed, god knows how they got press passes. alex reached for your arm, pulling you back from the mic shoved in your face. she’d gone through the exact same thing mere months ago.

“get away from them, right now!”

that familiar voice, though hollering, relaxed you immediately. fernando had shoved his way through the mob, standing guard in front of you. his hand reached back to grasp at your arm, securing you close to his side, his shoulders heaving with anger.

“any of you bastards speak to her like that again, and i’ll make sure you don’t have a career left in the morning,” he seethes, sending the reporters backing off in seconds. he takes your hand, charles taking alex’s, pulling you both to the safety of the garages. fernando doesn’t slow down until he reaches the aston martin motorhome, face red with anger.

“are you okay?” he asks, taking your cheeks in his palms, eyes desperately raking across your features for any sign that you might be hurt or upset. in truth, you were just shocked. the whole interaction had sprung up out of nowhere, and it had happened in a flash before your eyes, back in the garage before you knew it.

“i don’t— what they were saying…” you mutter, brows furrowed. the words play over and over again like a broken record. slut. the tears that stung at your eyes were hot, willed away with everything that you had.

“don’t listen to them, please,” fernando softens, chest aching at the sight of you welling up. “i… i tried so hard to protect you from this, mi amor. i should have been there.”

you shake your head, nestling your face in the material of his race suit. fernando’s arms wind around your shoulders, squeezing you as close as he can without fear of breaking you. he’d curse himself forever for not being there to stop the reporters, but he would hold you while he could.

“i’m sorry, corazón. you deserve better than all of this,” your doting boyfriend murmurs against the crown of your head, lips moving on soft hair. you shift to look up at him, that familiar light that dances behind pupils making him keel with adoration.

“all that talk is only temporary,” you mutter, stretching up on the tips of your toes to reach his lips. soft and lingering kisses, his hands holding your hips close by. “this, us, is what matters.”

fernando smiles, so deeply you can feel it in your stomach. “i love you, so very much. i’m not going to let anything ruin this.”

he tangles you up in another kiss, pouring every ounce of love he has for you into one searing show of affection. a clear promise: to protect you every day of his life, no matter what it took.

[1-800-imagines]

taken part 2 (jax teller imagine)

read part 1 here

jax was riddled with grief. losing abel and you at the same time was proving too much for him. also, the fact that gemma was on the run didn’t help. he felt like his entire life was falling to pieces and he couldn’t stop it. 

tara had tried talking with him, but he could barely look at her. he was so infuriated that her jealousy had led to the two of you get taken and half-sack’s death. 

tara tried to squeeze her way back in but jax wasn’t having it. every time he looked at her made him realize how much he missed you. and that he was in love with you. 

cameron had drugged you in order to get you and abel out of the country without raising suspicion. you were drugged just enough where you could walk but not enough to run or ask for help. 

as a result, you didn’t know where you were being held. the last thing you remembered was getting into canada. and when cameron had seen you semi-awake. he had hit you in the head which made you lose consciousness. when you woke up, you were somewhere dark and your head was throbbing. but the part that bothered you the most, wasn’t being held captive or your obvious concussion, but the fact that abel wasn’t with you anymore.

you didn’t know how long it had been since you were taken as you were being held in a dark basement. after a few days, jimmy o had shown up. a few of his men came with him and they had let you eat but then tied you right back up. 

you begged and pleaded every time someone came down. you only begged for abel. you didn’t care about anything else, no matter how much pain you were in, nothing. 

you had no clue if he was still alive but the fact that you were still alive gave you hope. you heard murmurs regarding abel when they thought you were knocked out. 

—(time skip)—

jax and the rest of had been in belfast for almost a week. they were getting closer to finding abel, but there was no word on you, which worried jax. 

as they had found out, before cameron was killed he dropped abel with maureen and given you to jimmy as collateral in hope to get some good faith. 

you were being moved to a different location, in the back of a van when you pulled to a stop. the door opened and you were grabbed out. you were blindfolded but you heard a baby cry. “abel?” you gasped, which caused you to get a punch landed to your jaw. 

this didn’t stop you, you started to claw at the man holding you to get free. then a man spoke loudly, “enough! take the blindfold off.”

you recognized the voice as it was jimmy o’s. one of the other men ripped it off of you. during the struggle, you had been taken inside a building. you looked around and saw jimmy holding abel. your knees buckled and you would have fallen to the floor if the man wasn’t still holding you. 

“please let me hold him,” you begged, “keep my hands tied, i don’t care just let me hold him for a minute.”

jimmy nodded at the man who released you and released your wrists. jimmy then walked abel over to you and passed him over. you sobbed into him, embracing him, “i’m so glad you’re okay.” you whispered to abel. 

“go into the room and stay. don’t pull anything because i will kill you.” jimmy ordered, pointing to a door. you just nodded and took abel, not wanting to take a chance. 

“they’ve set up a meet. the girl and the baby for safe passage for me to the US.” jimmy said in a hushed voice. 

you clung onto abel for dear life until it was time for the meet. in the car, you acted like you had no clue what was going on and he didn’t even bother blindfolding you. 

your heart was hammering in your chest, hoping nothing would go wrong and you would see jax soon. at this point in time you didn’t care if you died, you just wanted abel safe. 

jimmy got out of the car first and made the two of you wait. the windows were so tinted you couldn’t see who was outside. then the door was being opened and you were basically being pulled out with abel. 

you protected abel in your arms as best as you could and when you heard jax’s voice, your stomach twisted. he hadn’t noticed the two of you yet, but was talking to the man he was with, “father, they’ll kill you if you go with.”

he looked at jax and said, “be well my son.” and with that, one of the men pushed you towards jax. 

“jax!” you gasped, nearly colliding with him. he immediately pulled the two of you close to him into his arms. 

“oh my god.” he said softly, “i’m so glad you’re both safe. nothing bad is ever going to happen to either of you again.” he kissed abel’s head and then yours. 

you looked up at him and saw his face fall. he had seen how bruised and bloody you looked. “oh darlin’” he spoke, “i’m gonna fucking kill him.” he caressed your face. 

you shook your head, “he kept me alive. let them go. please, just want to be away from here.” your eyes welled up with tears. you had been trying to keep it together for abel but the facade was breaking. 

—-

it didn’t take long for the three of you to get back to the sambel clubhouse. you held abel the entire car ride with jax driving, you still felt terrified wondering if someone would go wrong last minute. 

“wait here a second while i talk to them for a second.” you nodded and stayed in the car as jax got out. 

in less than a minute, jax was opening your car door and helping you and abel out. gemma was the first to pull you into her arms. you let out a soft gasp, shocked to see gemma in belfast, “thank you for keeping him safe, sweetheart.” she whispered into your ear and kissed your forehead. 

you couldn’t say anything, so you just nodded. she released her grip on you and took abel from you, she handed him to jax, “i’m going to take her inside and clean her up, that ok baby?” she looked to you for an answer. 

again, you just nodded. gemma took you inside and upstairs to the bathroom. she began to clean up your cute and bruises.  when she turned to grab something, you started to sob, unable to hold them back anymore. 

gemma frowned sadly, “oh sweetheart, can i do anything?” 

you shook your head, “we got separated. i should have fought harder. i should have never let him get taken.” 

gemma embraced you into a hug, “you did more than anyone could ever ask. he’s safe. you’re safe now.” she kissed your forehead, “i’m going to go grab something, just wait here.”

you nodded and tried to calm yourself down which wasn’t working. the bathroom door opened and you looked up, expecting to see gemma, but instead it was jax. 

he didn’t say anything, instead he just pulled you into a hug. you stayed there, hugging him, while your breathing slowed from crying. 

“i tried to get him to take me instead. he wanted to kill him, i didn’t know what else to do.” you whispered. 

he titled your chin up so you were looking at him, “i don’t know how i can thank you. you saved his life.” he tucked your hair behind your ear, “and everyone who hurt you will be taken care of.” tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded. then he whispered, “i’m so sorry i let tara get in the way. it’s always been you.”

he pulled you close again and kissed you deeply. you kissed him back and tears streamed down your face. 

“i want you to be mine. i love you.”

your heart was exploding with feelings and you barely had any words so you said, “i love you so much, jackson teller.” you paused for a moment and said “let’s go home.” 

[luvangelbreak]

Deprived | Four

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 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 matthew sturniolo x layla venita (female!oc) summary: everyone knows the story of the bad boy and the good girl but what happens when the school's most popular boy, Matthew Sturniolo, and the girl who notoriously is never there, Layla Venita, cross paths. warnings: swearing (don't think there's anything else but lmk) word count: 3k a/n: my first time writing from matts pov and I'm nervy but hope y'all like it. also i know very little abt the seasons of hockey games at schools so if that's off, just ignore it lol.

pov: matt

I don't know why I ditched school with Layla. I never really left school unless I was sick or when Chris and Nick needed a ride home. I knew that I would be fine if I skipped a couple classes, my grades were good enough for me to miss a full month and I would still pass but I tried to stay above average.

As I drove us back to school, my mind wandered to when she put her earring on my lip. It made me realise how gentle she was, the way she grabbed my chin to turn my head and pulled my lip down to delicately place the ring on my lip made my mind fuzzy. She always seemed like she was tough and rough around the edges. The way she carried herself around school as if she didn't care about anyone or anything was a deep contrast to who she was in that moment of softness. I let my mind travel away as I parked in my usual spot at school, sliding my seatbelt off before I turned the car off.

I turned to face her, seeing her pick her bag up from the ground and going to open the door before I interrupted her movements, "Hey."

She turned to face me, letting go of the door handle as she looked at me expectantly, "What?"

"Do you wanna sit with me at lunch? I know you don't really go to the cafeteria but it's better than wandering around the school alone," I offered, praying in my head that she would agree.

"I don't think your friends will want me there," she mumbled, not making eye contact with me as she looked out at the school.

"Doesn't matter what they want. I want you to sit with us," I smiled at her, hoping it would convince her further. I knew my friends would be confused but I hoped I could convince them by showing them she was just like everyone else in the school and she wasn't some monster our peers had made her out to be.

"I don't know..." she trailed off, biting her lip which I picked up was a nervous habit. She had done it so many times in the short amount of time that I had been talking to her and I tried to not make it obvious that I was staring at her lips, coughing before sitting upright.

"Come on, it will be fine," I smiled once again before I jumped out of the car. I made sure my phone was in my pocket as I hopped out of the car, grabbed my backpack from the backseat and waited for her to close her door before I locked it.

We started walking into the school as she trailed behind me. She was mindlessly following me as she looked at her phone. I swung the door open, stepping aside to let her walk in before me. She sent me a half-hearted smile as a thank you making my chest swell with warmth.

I liked seeing her smile and knowing that I'd only seen her smile when she was around me made me proud in a way. I couldn't explain why but I felt myself pull towards her every time I saw her in the hallway. It had taken me a while to figure out if it was a good idea or not to talk to her, but I'd now decided that I was going to keep talking to her until she was sick of me.

I made my way to the cafeteria, noting that the clock on the wall read that lunch had already been happening for about 5 minutes. Her walking slowed and I turned to face her, slowing my pace to match hers.

"You don't have to stay for the whole lunch. Just come say hi to everyone at least," I offered her another smile and she chewed at her lip making me glance at them again, "Please."

"No need to grovel, pretty boy. I'll go," she rolled her eyes, her hard demeanour returning now that we were on school grounds. I smiled wider at the nickname she had given me and I was glad to know it stuck. After putting my backpack in my locker, we walked towards the cafeteria again.

We walked through the doors to the large cafeteria, eyes turning to look at the both of us. I ignored them as I walked through the tables, making a B-line to where my friends sat as Layla travelled behind me.

"Hey," I nodded to my brothers, sitting down beside Nick as they glanced over my shoulder at Layla making me turn towards her. I patted the seat beside me, letting her know she could sit down. She slowly sat down next to me and I could feel how tense she was by her body language, "Nick, Chris, Nate, Allie, this is Layla."

"Hi," Layla mumbled from beside me and I hoped that my friends could pull themselves together and at least pretend to be nice until they got to know her properly.

"Hey," Allie smiled at her politely as Nick and Nate both gave her a small wave. Chris nodded at her, his face showing his distaste for her being here making me run my tongue along my teeth. Chris looked at me and I made a face to tell him to be nice.

"What the fuck is on your lip?" Nick asked and I rang my tongue over the ring that was on my lip.

"It's fake. Just trying it out," I shrugged and Nick looked at me in confusion but I brushed it off.

"You getting any food?" Nate asked me and I shook my head as I watched him snack on the small tray of food he had in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" I heard a familiar voice speak and I looked to my right to see Mia staring down at Layla with confusion.

"Mia," I deadpanned and she glanced at me with a shrug of her shoulders, her cheerleading uniform riding up slightly as she did so.

"I'm just asking. She never even comes into the cafeteria and now she's sitting where I always sit," she stated in a bitchy tone making me frown at her.

"You can manage not sitting next to me for one day, Mia," I told her and she pursed her lips, a frown covering her face as she sat herself in between Layla and Allie.

"So why are you sitting here?" Mia asked Layla, her tone still bitchy as ever making me roll my eyes.

"Matt asked me to sit with you guys," Layla answered honestly, her tone not wavering in the slightest.

"Why?" Mia retorted as she opened the protein bar I didn't even notice she had.

"Because I wanted her to," I responded to Mia, my tone sharp to try and get her to stop. She was my biggest worry when I offered Layla to sit with us but I didn't realise she'd be so dramatic about it.

"Why didn't you get any food, Matty?" Mia asked me, now leaning over the table a little and completely ignoring Layla.

"I just ate," I answered honestly and I felt Layla's shoulder brush mine as she wriggled in her seat to get further away from Mia.

"What?" Nick asked now and I turned my head to face him.

I shrugged before replying, "We got McDonald's."

"And you didn't get anything for me?" Allie gasped dramatically making me smile at her as I shook my head.

"You skipped? For McDonald's with her?" my attention was brought back to Mia's bitter tone as she made a face of slight disgust.

"No I skipped because I wanted McDonald's and I asked her to come with me," I kept my tone flat to give her the hint that I was not impressed but she didn't seem to catch it.

"Why didn't you ask me?" Mia pouted and I shrugged, playing with the rings on my fingers.

"You were already in class," I told her and she rolled her eyes before I continued, "Besides, you never skip."

"What class do you have after this?" Allie asked Layla and I was thankful she diverted the conversation politely.

"Art and gym," Layla answered honestly and Allie's smile widened.

"You're in my gym class, right? Mr Rodes?" Allie asked and Layla nodded in response, "You should group up with me in class!"

"Uh, okay," Layla answered, confusion in her tone. I figured it was because she expected Allie to be a bitch, her cheerleading uniform and perfect red hair giving everyone the impression she was like Mia. Allie was one of the nicest people in school, she was down to talk to anybody and it's one of the reasons I was excited for Layla to sit with us.

"You always pair with me," Mia mumbled to Allie as she flipped her brown hair over her shoulder and Allie shrugged in response.

"You can go with Melissa? She always wants to go with you," Allie gave her a solution before digging back into her salad. Mia seemed more irritated than before and I hoped she would save it till Layla wasn't sitting with us. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

"She's here for like two seconds and fucks everything up," Mia mumbled under her breath as she bit into her protein bar.

"If you're gonna shit talk me while I'm sitting right next to you at least say it with your chest, Mia," Layla deadpanned to Mia and she seemed taken aback as she just stared at the bleached blonde girl sitting next to me.

"You're gonna let her talk to me like that?" Mia asked as she glanced at me and I raised my eyebrows.

"He's not your father. You can stand up for yourself," Layla spoke clearly and I pursed my lips, resisting the urge to smile as Mia looked in shock. Almost no one pushed back with Mia, we all knew she would blow up and just make things worse than they needed to be. But I enjoyed seeing Layla stand up to her, it proved to me that she wasn't scared of anyone, she just didn't care to talk to them.

"This is bullshit," Mia huffed as she crossed her arms and Layla raised her eyebrows in response. I looked over at Chris who was hiding his smile behind his sandwich and Nick who coughed in order to cover his laugh.

"Right well, I'm gonna go. I'll see you in gym Allie," Layla picked up her bag and stepped over the bench as she adjusted her hoodie. I realised she left her leather jacket in my car but decided I wouldn't tell her yet so I had an excuse to see her later.

"Where are you going?" I asked as she turned back to face me. Instead of speaking, she made a motion with her hand like she was smoking an imaginary cigarette as she walked backwards slowly with her eyebrows raised. I smiled at her while shaking my head and I watched as she spun around, walking out of the doors of the cafeteria.

"What was that about?" Nick asked as I turned around to face the group who were now looking at me expectantly.

"What?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowing as I ran my tongue over the ring on my lip, pursing my lips to hide my smile.

"You said you weren't gonna talk to her anymore," Chris deadpanned and I shrugged, grabbing Nick's water and taking a sip before he ripped it out of my hands.

"I changed my mind," I lied, knowing I never actually intended to stop talking to her in the first place.

"She's bad news. You shouldn't be hanging around her unless you wanna end up being a junkie," Mia mumbled and all joy from my face dropped as I turned to look at her with a glare.

"Mia, can you shut up for once?" I spat and she frowned, her mouth hanging open and Nate raised his eyebrows, his mouth in a downturned smile of surprise before he and Allie looked at each other briefly.

"You hang out with her for one day and you're already a dick. You just proved my point," Mia looked at me with a cocky smile and I rolled my eyes.

"You guys are so fucking annoying," I sighed, running a hand over my face as my mind flashed the moment she grabbed my lip to put the ring in my lip, "The only reason she was rude to you is because you were being a bitch about her sitting here and then not pairing up with Allie in gym. It's not that big of a deal."

"I mean... I've heard a lot of shit about her man," Nate piped up as he raised his eyebrows at me and I shook my head.

"Who cares? She's not this psycho everyone pretends she is," I defended her and Nate just shrugged, on the fence on whether or not he thought it was a good idea for me to be talking to her, "You guys just have to give her a chance."

"I don't have to do anything," Mia mumbled, her irritated tone making me grind my teeth together to keep my cool.

"If you wanna continue being my friend, Mia, you're gonna have to figure out why you're such a bitch to her," I huffed and Allie's eyes widened and before I could say anything further, the bell for our next class rang through my ears. I got up from the table without another word and made my way to my locker, playing with the ring on my lip that was quickly becoming a habit.

+++

My last two classes were spent trying to focus but instead, my brain wandered to Layla, hoping that Mia didn't scare her away from me. I leaned against the driver's side of my car, Nick and Chris talking about something as they walked over to me.

"Why aren't you in the car?" Chris asked, noting the fact that I usually waited for them in the driver's seat.

"Layla left her jacket. Gotta give it back to her," I told him honestly and he rolled his eyes as he jumped into the passenger seat. I was sure he was sick of me talking about her, I'd been building up the courage to talk to her for weeks and I constantly talked Chris's ear off about it. He always told me it was a bad idea and I, of course, never listened.

Nick slid in the back seat, shutting the door behind him and I felt the window behind me roll down. I turned around to see Chris holding her leather jacket out to me through the window and I gave him a small smile with a nod. He raised his eyebrows briefly as I took the jacket from him and he started rolling the window up.

"Just don't take forever. We gotta get our shit for training," Chris called out before the window was full rolled up. I turned back around as I hung the jacket over my left arm, pulling my phone out of my pocket to quickly check the time.

"I believe you have something of mine," Layla's voice rang through my ears and my head snapped up to see her standing in front of me, an amused look on her face. I stared at her for a moment, noticing that she was wearing her shorts from gym still and I could see a few more of her tattoos on her thighs before she spoke again, "You gonna give it to me or am I fighting you for it?"

"Oh right. My bad," I shook my head as I slipped my phone back into my pocket and handed her the jacket. I slid the ring off of my lip, wiping it with the hem of my shirt and I couldn't help but notice her eyes glance at the tattoos along my waist.

"Gonna miss that super cool lip ring," she said sarcastically as I chuckled, handing her the ring as her fingers brushed against mine. Her skin felt so much more soft than mine, it raised goosebumps along my arms.

"Give me another month and you won't have to miss it anymore," I smirked at her and I noticed her eyes lit up slightly as a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"You're gonna get it?" she asked, her voice full of hope as she slid her bag off of her shoulder and slipped her jacket on before grabbing her bag again.

I shrugged, leaning back against the car again, "Probably. Under one condition."

"What?" she asked sceptically, her eyes squinting at me and I smiled.

"Come to my last three games this season," I stated and she tilted her head as she looked out into the parking lot in thought.

"I won't have a way to get there," she retorted and with a raise of my eyebrows, I pointed to the car behind me before pointing to myself, "I don't know what to wear to your games."

With a shrug, I said, "Just wear whatever you're comfortable in."

"What day are your games on?" she asked sceptically before she bit her lip and I tore my eyes away from her mouth and back up to her eyes.

"Fridays at five," I told her and she sighed, shaking her head.

"I don't know..." she trailed off and I bit my lip to hide my smile.

I sighed dramatically as I pushed off of the car, "Guess I won't be getting my lip pierced any time soon."

"Oh for fucks sake. Fine," she huffed and I smiled at her, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'll have to pick you up around four because we need to be there early to warm up but you can wait in the car if you don't wanna come inside," I explained and she nodded, goosebumps covering the skin on her legs from the cold air, "You need a ride home?"

"We don't have time for that. Hurry the fuck up!" Chris called from inside the car and I held up a middle finger behind me to flip him off.

"Nah, I'll be good," she gave me a half smile and I nodded as she started to walk backwards, "I'll see you when I'm looking at you."

With that she spun around and started walking out of the car park, leaving me with a triumphant smile on my face. I hopped in the car to see Nick and Chris staring at me with a judgemental look on their face.

"What?" I asked with a smile but they both stayed silent as I started the car, driving back to our house to grab mine and Chris's gear for training.

[daisygirlwrites]

Car Rides

Summary: An old memory of Simon’s resurfaces during a car ride to Crash’s house.

Warnings: none

Pairing(s): Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 1,025

Note: No uses of (Y/N), some angst but it’s barely there. 

a/n: hello hello! back with another fic :) ngl this one made me kind of sad but still enjoyable to write. I have a set of headcanons that I wrote along with this fic but i decided that I’ll put it into the next post instead :0c !! anyways, i hope y’all like it and would love to hear feedback!

“Keys.” He demanded.

Quickly, you pull your hand back, the other coming up to shield it. The man in front of you narrows his eyes but puts his hands back into his hoodie pocket. You open your hand, revealing a set of keys, along with a lego Darth Vader keychain. Flipping over the key fob, your black Jeep Wrangler makes the distinct sound of itself unlocking. “After you, LT.”

He opens the back passenger seat to set down his duffle bag before moving to the front. While he does that, you get yourself onto the driver's seat and start the vehicle. You check your surroundings before backing out of the parking spot and after a series of turns, you two are on the road, exiting the airport.

“Apologies about earlier, Simon,” you say, after a couple minutes of silence. “I know you want to drive but love this car way too much. Don’t want to crash it, ya know.” He glares at you as you let out an airy chuckle.

“And what do you mean by that, Sergeant?”

“Remember Las Almas? How you slammed on the breaks so fuckin’ hard that I almost went through the window, for the second time? Or that time in Moscow, where you proceeded to hit every curb you saw and we got pulled over?” You glance at him. He stares back at you, offended. And even with a facemask, it’s evident that he’s scowling at you.

Looking back at the road, you lightly elbow his arm. “Don’t worry, LT. You’re great at a lot of things.” You pause, weighing out the option of whether or not to push his buttons more before saying, “Just not driving. Or piloting. Like last month, with the helico-”

“That’ll do!” Simon raises his voice.

Palms on the steering wheel, you open your hands as a signal of surrender. “I’m just jesting, Simon.” You give him a half-hearted smile. He sinks down into his seat, with his arms crossed.

45 minutes passed and the only sound you hear are the cars on the road. Simon looks out of the window, taking sight of the buildings rushing by. In the distance, he can see the large mountain range.

The whole team was given a month of leave after the last mission went up in flames. Literally, burning helicopters and all. While the guys usually went back to the UK, you had invited them to your mountain home in Colorado. Ghost initially declined but after you and Soap begged on your knees, he reluctantly agreed. And now he regrets it after you made fun of his driving skills. But at least it was just you and not the rest of the team. Actually, he’s grateful that they’re flying in tomorrow. Didn’t want to handle three idiots in a car.

“I got a CD folder in the glove box,” You break the silence. “It’s your pick too. Long drives are better with music.”

Simon gives you a nod and begins flipping through the case. He recognizes most of the albums, and taking a closer look, some of the art on them are flaking off.

“Never thought you’d still have CDs this old,” he comments.

“Half of them are my grandpa’s. I’m just adding on to it.”

He hums in response. Spotting a maroon colored disk, he rotates it, reading ‘Queen: Greatest Hits’. Carefully pulling it out of its pocket, he hands it to you. Left hand on the wheel, you stick your finger in the middle and glance at it. Nodding, you slide it into the car player.

“Good choice.”

“Brits have good music.”

“I agree with that.”

Flicking your eyes down to the display screen, you skip the first eight tracks. Without looking, you can tell that Simon is giving you a disapproving look. “We’ll come back to it, promise. Just want to listen to this first.”

He turns his eyes back on the road before him, the first couple notes of ‘You’re My Best Friend’ playing out. They’re in the mountains now, the roads becoming more twisty. Slowly down a bit on the turns, you let the windows down a couple inches. He hears you quietly sing along with the song. Rolling his eyes, Simon leans back on his seat again. Again, looking out the window, enjoying the greenery. It reminds him of the long drives to his aunt's house. Green blurs of evergreen trees passing by. Turning his head to look at you, his heart picks up the pace.

He doesn’t see you. Instead, it was a woman in her early thirties. The driver window slightly opened, leaving her light brown hair flying behind her ears. Hands tapping on the steering wheel on beat with the music. Hazel eyes meeting his. There were bags under them, dark circles hidden by makeup. She smiles at him, little wrinkles appearing on the corner of her eyes, along with two dimples, one of each side of her smile. Just like his. Opening her mouth, she sings along with the song,

“Ooh, you make me live Whenever this world is cruel to me I got you to help me forgive Ooh, you make me live now, honey Ooh, you make me live.”

His mom stops singing. “Simon!” she calls out. “Come on, love. Sing with your ma!”

He’s too stunned to say anything, he just stares at her. “Simon?” Her smile drops, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Simon?” Her voice sounds muffled.

“Simon?!” It’s like echoes now.

“Lieutenant Riley?!” That one snapped him out. 

Heart beating like a drum, he opens his eyes, staring at the bottom of his hoodie before looking back up. It’s just you, Crash, his sergeant. Not his mother. But the worried look you give him is identical to hers.

You give him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry to wake you up LT.” His eyebrows go up with confusion, he didn’t know he was even sleeping. “We’re here.”

Simon steps out of the jeep, closing the door behind him. Taking a look of his surroundings, he glances up at the towering evergreen trees, just like the ones in his childhood. Just like the ones at home.

[lolitakirstein]

Hey Neighbor pt 5

part 5

{previous chapter}

word count: 1.1K~

an: I hope to get this onto AO3 so I can't write longer chapters. I hope those that read it are enjoying it. Thank you for the likes. :3

CW: suggestive language

After the ordeal with Toji, you concluded that, for the time being -- and the sake of your mental health, it was best to avoid him- even more so than before. That meant checking before leaving your house to keep from running into him or Megumi. Picking up extra shifts at work was also another way you intended to steer clear of him. Which is how you ended up today working a 12-hour shift.

You didn't mind, the monotony of the work was more comforting than if you had been sitting at home mulling over what had occurred at Toji's house.

It's 9pm on a Saturday. After finishing restocking the bookshelves and clocking out, you head for your car.

"Hey y/n! You up for a drink?" you turn at the voice, seeing your co-worker Valerie, skipping up to you as if you both didn't work long shifts today.

As much as you want to refuse due to tiredness, you remember what awaits you at home. Nothing except the film in your head of Toji saying "il mio angellino" on a loop. After a moment you say, "Yeah sure."

The bar is a dank, hole-in-the-wall establishment. Scuffed wood and the overwhelming smell of tobacco. Valerie orders you both coke and rums from the bartender. The taste instantly perks you up and dulls your senses. It had been a long time since you had drank. Never really needed it, but with the grief, the moving, the neighbor, and the hard hours of work, tonight seems a perfect opportunity to indulge. Maybe a little more than you should.

Three drinks later, the alcohol has completely turned your mind to mush. You reach into your pocket, grasping your phone. A text has come in since you've been here.

Toji: You ok?

Even though your heart does a little skip at the text - though that could be from the alcohol coursing through you- you can't help but roll your eyes. Why does he care? How could I be ok when he dropped so much shit on you in less than 15 minutes?

Focusing hard, not wanting to sound drunk you respond "Yeah? W hy?"

Ok, maybe you weren't focusing hard enough.

Toji: You're usually home by now? Your car's gone.

Oh, so now he wants to be all obsessive and know everything when he wouldn't tell you anything? Fuck that. You're quick to fire back. "Uhm? It's Saturday? You're not my keepr? You spying on mer now? Why do you care what iam doing?"

After hitting send you realize that on top of being drunk, the anger you now felt from his possessiveness didn't help the construction of that text. So, to not face any more embarrassment, you shove your phone back into your pocket. Not caring if he replies or not. You want to enjoy the night.

Enjoy the night indeed. A few drinks later and dancing with strangers in the corner of the bar, Valerie finally shoves you both into an Uber. The ride is a blur of giggles and focusing hard on not throwing up. Somehow you make it home, well close to it. Unforntaly you told the driver the wrong house number and ended up half a block from your house. Oh well, some fresh air would be nice. After saying bye to Valerie, you staggered along the sidewalk towards your door.

Because you're too busy concentration on putting one foot in front of the other, you don't realize that the walk passes right by Toji's house. You attempt to count your steps, losing count every three steps due to stumbling. A particular hard stumble sends you pitching forward onto the concrete which sends you into a fit of giggle. "Oh my," you say to yourself.

You sigh and roll onto your back. The night is cool and refreshing. Taking deep breaths and smiling, you close your eyes as the breeze hits your flushed cheeks.

You hear shoes scuffling towards you, but you are so comfortable you don't let it bother you.

"Not really the best place to stargaze," a sultry voice says, causing you to open your eyes.

Toji stands over you, his arms crossed and a pissed-off look on his face.

You roll your eyes before closing them again. Your drunk mind thinking if i can't see him then he will go away.

"This how you have fun? Get drunk and wake home alone at 3 am." he scolds.

"How i have fun is my own business," you bite back, brattily.

"Yeah, laying on the sidewalk looks like a lot of fun." he retorts.

"Why the fuck do you care."

"Your in front of my house." he laughs. "Kinda not a good look for me and the house's curb appeal."

"Whatever," you mutter.

"Get up off the sidewalk, y/n" He orders.

"Make me." your eyes are still closed.

You hear him groan then feel him bend towards you, scooping you up easily in his arms.

"Fucking put me down," you snap, though your not entirely fighting him, a pathetic slap to his shoulder that hits a wall of muscle.

"No wonder Megumi likes you so much. You're both brats when it's bedtime."

Finally exhausted with bickering you resign to be carried like a child to the front door.

"Where are your keys," he asks, setting you down on the porch but keeping an arm around your waist to keep you steady.

"Pocket," you groan, eyes becoming heavy.

Toji's hand that isn't braced around your middle slides into the front pocket of your jeans. The combination of the alcohol, his closeness, and now his touch so close to an intimate area sends even more heat through you, but now more concentrated between your legs. He quickly removes your keys and unlocks the door.

"Alright let's go," he scoops you back up, crossing the threshold. You're excessively dizzy from all the feelings rushing through you that you can do nothing but rest your head against his shoulder as he carries you to your bedroom.

Somewhere, the not-drunk you perks up. How did he know exactly which room out of the three was yours? He didn't even pause or ask once inside.

Laying you gently on the bed, he tosses the throw blanket that sits in the reading chair beside your dresser over you. "You've been rolling on the ground, I'm not tucking you into bed…or putting you in pjs."

You can only groan sleepily, happy to be in bed. You peer at Toji through half-shut eyes and notice he's smirking at you.

"Goodnight, y/n" he shakes his head, softly laughing. He turns to leave but pauses by the dresser. "This was the first picture your grandmother ever showed me of you."

He picks up the framed picture of you that your grandmother had placed there. This was her bedroom after all. The mention of her makes a wave of sadness wash over you. "This picture doesn't capture your eyes though. They're more vivid in person.."

You blush, not knowing how to respond

"Doesn't capture how short you are either," he looks over his shoulder at you, smirking.

"Screw you," you say, though it's muffled by the blanket you've nestled into.

With another laugh, he leaves the room. Before you finally succumb to sleep, you hear Toji close the front door.

[thatdarkfanficstuff]

Flutter - Chapter Three

Pairing: Mafia Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: a smack in the face

A/N: a bit short but I'm so happy with it I'm posting as is.

To say that Steve’s thoughts had once again turned to you would be misleading. The truth was he had thought of little other than you since you walked into his office. You were supposed to be meeting at the end of the month to write an official contract for your betrothal, and eventual marriage, to Roman. A prospect Steve was looking less forward to with every passing day. He pursed his lips and tapped his fingers on the desk in an impatient rhythm as he made a decision he'd been stewing over for days. He needed to make a call.

His touch moved over the screen of his phone in practiced familiarity to pull up Tony’s number.

“Stark,” came the terse greeting.

“Tony,” Steve returned, his voice low and coaxing. “I have a request for you. In fact, let’s call it a proposition.”

Silence stretched taut, filled with suspicion.

“Go on,” Tony prompted after a beat.

“I think the kids should get to know one another. I would hate for them to enter a marriage with no idea what they’re getting into.” Steve sounded so reasonable one could almost forget the engagement was all his idea in the first place. “What better way for them to get acquainted than the lovely Ms. Stark moving in here. She can learn the lay of the land so to speak.”

“Are you out of your mind, Rogers?” Tony snapped. “You expect me to just hand her over with no protections? No guarantees?”

“That makes it sound like you don’t trust me, Tony. That hurts. It really does.” Steve allowed himself the smirk that played at the edge of lips.

Stark snorted in disbelief. “I trust you as much as you trust me.”

Steve sucked in a breath. He had one play to make and he could only hope it didn’t backfire spectacularly. “Ask her.”

There was a pause, Tony likely weighing his options and possible outcomes. “Fine. I’ll call you back.”

Steve waited less than five minutes for the return call though it felt like an hour. What if he’d misread the attraction, the heat between the two of you? “Yes?”

“If anything happens to her—”

Relief flooded through him. “Nothing will happen to her, Stark,” Steve interrupted. “She’ll be under my personal care.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Tony’s voice was heavy with fatigue and Steve wondered what exactly his conversation with you had entailed.

“Careful, Stark, or I’ll start to take offense.” Anticipation hummed through Steve’s veins as he ended the call. It promised something potent, something thrilling. Things were about to get far more interesting in the Rogers’ household.

***

Your sleek black car rolled to a stop outside Rogers’ house. As you stepped out, you flicked your eyes over the impressive façade taking a moment to appreciate it as you hadn’t the last time you were here. The door swung open, drawing your attention. You weren’t entirely surprised to see Steve framed in the opening in all his imposing glory. His eyes locked onto yours with a predatory gleam that had your heart skipping a beat.

“Welcome,” he greeted as you approached. His shirt outlined his muscled frame when he leaned forward to take the bag from your grip. He stepped closer, close enough for you to breathe in the heady scent of him. His fingers brushed yours as his hand wrapped around the handle of your bag. The touch was fleeting but electric, sparks zipping through your veins. “Allow me,” Steve murmured as he took the bag.

He gestured to your car and two men stepped out behind him to retrieve the rest of your things. He placed a hand on your back and steered you into the house. Roman Carter stood at the foot of the stairs, a leer contorting his features as he looked you over from head to toe. You lifted a brow and returned the gesture. You weren’t even remotely impressed.

Steve’s fingers flexed against your back as he passed your bag off to another minion. “Roman, come meet our guest.”

Roman took your hand in his as Steve made the formal introductions. He kissed the back of it and kept hold of it as he straightened to give you another smarmy sneer. “You’re welcome to stay in my room. We could get in some practice for the wedding night.”

The crack of Steve’s hand against Roman’s cheek echoed through the foyer. The action was so quick and unexpected you wondered for a beat if you’d imagined it. But Roman’s head snapped to the side and he dropped your hand. The red imprint of Steve’s fingers flared against his step-son’s skin confirming the reality of the situation.

“Have some respect,” Steve growled, voice low and dangerous. “She’s to be your wife, not your plaything.”

You stood still, your expression neutral. Roman hadn’t pissed you off enough yet for you to smirk at his misfortune. And you refused to let Steve see how his defensiveness on your behalf stirred something within you. It was entirely inappropriate.

Roman turned his glare to you, his eyes burning with rage as if you had encouraged his humiliation. As if his own stupid mouth wasn’t to blame. When you said nothing, he spun on his heel and stormed away, deeper into the house.

Everyone else seemed to have disappeared as well, leaving you alone with Steve. The ghost of a smile tugged the corner of his mouth. “Let’s not let that spoil our day, shall we?” His tone was light, playful, and a mischievous sparkle lit his eyes.

His hand once again found the small of your back as he guided you up the stairs and down the long hall. The plush carpet muffled your steps, but nothing could quiet the pounding of your heart. Gods, what was wrong with you? You needed to get this insane attraction under control.

“Here we are.” Steve’s voice cut into your thoughts. He pushed open the door to show a large room, elegantly decorated. He allowed you to move past him only to lean in, his lips a breath away from your ear. “What do you think?”

You suppressed a shudder as you stepped over to the large window to take in the view. “It’s lovely.”

Without missing a beat, he came up behind you to place his hands on the window on either side of you, boxing you in. He bent his head and breathed deeply before tracing the line of your neck with his nose. “I’ve found myself rather partial to this view myself lately.”

Your breath hitched and your eyes slipped closed. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Is that so?” Your words were far breathier than you’d given them permission to be.

Steve chuckled before humming in agreement. Taking mercy on you, he stepped back. You licked your lips as you turned to face him. “Maybe you’d allow me to see more of it later?”

You studied him for a moment, wondering what his intentions were. Surely, he didn’t go around seducing all of Roman’s women. You would have heard about it by now. “I’m sure you have a lovely view from your own room.”

He pursed his lips and rocked back on his heels. “That’s a rather lonely vista actually.” He reached out and traced a finger along the side of your neck. The touch was light but it burned, searing through your defenses. His skin against yours felt like a promise, a whisper of dark nights and twisted sheets.

He grinned then, as if he’d found the answer to an unasked question. As if he could see every secret thought you’d had about him and those hands. Without another word, he was moving away, steps assured, the king of his domain. But that grin lingered in the air, a challenge left hanging.

As he left the room, you were left standing there with your fingers pressed lightly where his had been. The cool absence of his touch a startling contrast to the heat he’d roused. And you were oh so ready to burn.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Hi! I hope you’re doing okay!

This is a very self indulgent request (you do not need to humor it!) but… Leon x a reader who has very bad heart problems.. constant palpitations, heart monitors, constant hospital and doctor visits, and just pure pain and discomfort at the most random times (even worst times.. ie. sex.. out on dates.. ) Obviously reader tries to laugh it off and tells him she’s fine but he’s always worried sick.

Sweetest Anon,

ALL my readers get to be included in any desire they would like!! I will totally do this for you! Just so you know i have very little knowledge on heart problems but tried my hardest for you! I hope you’re doing good and your health stays good angel <3

Warnings: Mentions of heart problems obviously. Slight mentions of smut!!

Who knew Leon Kennedy, the man who has fought for his life and for others far to many times was an actual saint. The best boyfriend anybody could ever ask for.

He always gave you his attention, showering you in affection even in times when you didn’t really deserve it. You felt guilty putting him through so much, or that’s how you phrased it. Leon just saw it as being your lifeline.

Leon cared more about your body than you did, when you first got diagnosed with heart problems after Raccoon City, he sat through every appointment with you, writing stuff down on his notepad as the doctor rambled on about risks and what to do and not. He loves you so much and you’ve always have and always will be his number one priority.

———

When Chris invited you and Leon to his big house party, celebrating his promotion, you couldn’t say no. Especially seeing the excitement Leon held for his best friend.

Pushing up the chapstick lid, rubbing it on your lips before Leon slid behind you, your hand coming to your chest to signal he scared the actual fuck out of you. His face instantly washing with concern as he gripped your shoulders.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting? What happened?”

A laugh left your lips as you leaned back, your lips pressing against his cheek as you pushed passed him and out the bathroom.

“You’re ready, yes?”

You asked as you slid your shoes on, looking back at him.

“Yes, but you’re not. Here, take your medicine.”

So that’s what he came into the bathroom for. You sighed shaking your head as you looked up at your boyfriend. He kissed your forehead softly, grabbing the keys off the hook by the kitchen.

“I’ll be in the car!”

He yelled as you stood staring at the medication in your hand.

——-

When you guys finally arrived, Leon ran to your side of the door, pulling it out for you with the widest smile on your face.

Chris saw you guys pull up, the door already opening. Chris was a great friend to you both, and you were so proud of his progress, he has worked TO hard.

“Congrats, Redfield I’m so proud”

You giggled as you gave him a quick side hug and a kiss on the cheek before skipping your way to Claire and Rebecca.

—-

The night went on, to many hours passed. You rested your face in your hands as you closed your eyes. Remembering your doctors words, just focus on your breathing. But your heart was pounding, so hard you felt it in your ears. You cleared your throat, excusing yourself from the couch as you slowly walked to the kitchen where Leon sat with all his friends, your hand slipping over his shoulder. His hand reached up, grabbing at yours, him immediately turning to you as he felt how sweaty you were.

Though he loved Chris, he waved goodbye to everyone in an instant. And the moment you guys got home, he helped you out of your clothes and ran you a bath, his hands running through your hair, his lips gently kissing at your shoulder.

———-

“Leon it’s just a heart monitor.”

You whined, half awake as Leon checked on you once again.

“I know, I know but you know I get so worried.. Let me worry”

Leon mumbled as he turned over from his position on the bed, kissing your lips softly. His arm lifted allowing you to snuggly press back into him.

“Worry all you want, I’m going to bed.”

You mumbled quietly as you rested your head on his chest, instantly soothed by the sound of his beating heart.

——

“Fuck, Leon..”

The squeal left your lips as Leon’s hips snapped into yours, your hands scrapping down his back. He was so toned and your hands slid so perfectly over every muscle on his back.

Your eyes squeezed shut, your breath hitching as you shook your head and grabbed at Leon’s shoulder.

“Le..”

Your nickname for him, his hips instantly stopping at the sound of your discomfort.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”

Leon spoke, his worried tone very prominent as he pulled himself out of you, pushing hair from your face.

You shook your head as you sat up, your shaky hand pressing against your chest. Leon’s eyes went sad as he scooted next you, watching as the tears built in your eyes.

“Shhh, It’s okay, here let me get you water..”

———

Leon insisted that you guys go to the spot you guys met, but the restaurant was always so crowded and it made you so moody listening to all the chattering around you when all you want to do is focus on your boyfriend.

But he begged and pushed so much that you finally caved, wearing your nicest outfit. At first you thought he was breaking up with you, by the way the two of you sat in silence in the car, his hand resting on the gear instead of your thigh.

Your stomach started to ache as you twirled your fingers around. The car stopped, Leon reached into the backseat smiling as he handed you a single rose. Just like he did on your first date. You pouted at him before leaning over the center console kissing him softly.

——

Your dinner went fine, and it was actually quiet, the noise of the soft piano music being heard as you watched Leon finish his wine.

He stared at you so admirably. He sighed shaking his head as he reached into his pocket, digging for awhile before he pulled out a tiny box that looked even more tiny in his big hand. Your eyes went wide as Leon cleared his throat, pulling his chair out.

“I love you, and I think I’m pretty confident I’m going to love you forever, hopefully you’ll love me too.”

Leon laughed as he touched your knee softly.

“I’m not a big attention guy, but, for you I am. Marry me.”

Leon whispered as he stared up at you, your jaw slacked open, no words could describe how you felt. You just nodded your head rapidly, Leon’s twisted face turning into the most beautiful smile as he slipped the ring on your finger, pulling you to his chest, the two of you standing.

He pulled away from you, his hand pressing to your chest as he eagerly sat you down.

“Your heart is racing, do you need more water? Here do you want your medication?”

Leon went reaching for your purse as you laughed grabbing his arm.

“Leon, you just asked me to marry you, of course my heart is going to be jumping out of my chest.. I’m fine..”

[fanficsformyfaves]

So Sweet

Kirby Reed x Fem!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, Dom!Kirby, Sub!Reader, Fingering (R Receiving), Oral Sex (R Receiving), Strap On Sex (R Receiving), Hickeys, FLUFF, Mentions of Murders and Police Investigation

PREFACE: Reader is Kirby's fiancé and an old friend of Sam's from when she worked with her at the bowling alley in Modesto. Once she found out about the Ghostface attacks in New York, she had to go and make sure Sam and Tara were okay

A/N: Texts are Colored and in Bold!

Flashbacks in Italics!

She is my newest hyper fixation, so, enjoy <3

"Sam?", I call out,

Making her turn towards me. Once I made sure it was actually her, my shoulders' finally drop in relief.

"Oh my god", I whisper to myself,

Before walking up and pulling her into a hug.

"I was so worried. We practically sped all the way here"

"You didn't need to come all this way", she says

"Are you kidding me? Once I heard about the case from my fiancé, I just packed a bag and hopped in her car", I reassured,

Pulling away, as she sighs.

"You're my friend, Sam. I had to make sure you were okay"

She smiles and looks down at her feet.

"Thank you"

"Don't mention it"

Just then, her eyebrows raise in confusion whilst looking back up at me.

"Wait...fiancé?"

That's when I realized I never got to tell her.

"I guess life's gotten away from me. Yeah, I'm getting married"

"No fucking way"

I couldn't help, but laugh at her surprised expression.

"To who?!"

"Well-"

"Baby!", a familiar voice calls out,

We both look behind us and there she was. Despite being together for years, she never failed to make my heart skip a beat.

Kirby and I met when I moved to Atlanta in pursuit of a better job than the one I had in Modesto. I was at the grocery store, checking out the ingredients I was gonna use for dinner, when the cashier swiped my card.

"Sorry, ma'am, but this card was declined", she let me know,

"Oh, um, could you try it again?"

"Of course"

She tries the card once more and sure enough, we ran into the same problem.

"It's still declined"

"I got it", a woman answered,

I turn around and it felt like I got the wind knocked out of me. There weren't enough words to describe just how beautiful she was. From the greens and blues in her eyes to the rosy pink lips and soft blonde hair...she was something straight out of a movie.

I eventually snap out of the lavender haze that was consuming me with each passing moment and go to stop her.

"Oh no, please, I couldn't-"

"I insist", she interrupts,

Swiping her own card. Not only was she breathtaking, but her heart was just as perfect. I smile to myself and take my now-bagged groceries. We made our way outside to the parking lot and she walks me to my car.

"I'm (Y/N), by the way", I introduce shyly,

"Kirby", she grinned,

"Is there anyway I could repay you?"

"Well...you could take my number, as a thank you"

I let out a laugh, before realizing she was being serious.

"Oh! Um, sure", I reply,

Getting my phone out. She takes it and starts putting in her number. Was this really happening? If this was all just a dream and I wake up right now, I'll be so pissed. Once we had each other’s contacts saved, I slid my phone back into my pocket.

"Maybe next time, you'll forget your wallet at a gas station and I can ask you out for dinner", she jokes,

Handing me back my phone.

Her sense of humor was only one of the many things that made me fall for her. We spent the next few months just flirting and getting to know each other. We would meet for dinners, coffee and even horror movie marathons at each other's houses.

One habit I picked up since I met her was looking forward to the sweet little morning texts she'd send me.

Kirby<3: Morning, beautiful. Hope you slept well

And every time, without fail, I would squeal into my pillow like a child.

Me: Good morning! I did, hope you did too. Are we still on for binging the Conjuring movies?

Kirby<3: Are you kidding?

Just then she sends me a photo of the snacks, drinks and an infinite amount of candy.

Kirby<3: I've got them all in chronological order! I'm just waiting for you to bring your fine ass over here

It didn't take long for us to become official.

It happened one night, after one of our little rendezvous. There we were. Laying in her bed, sweaty and out of breath. Our limbs tangled together, holding me tight against her bare skin.

"You are amazing", I exhale,

As I attempted to catch my breath.

"I know", she joked,

Pressing a kiss to the back of my shoulder and causing a soft chuckle to escape me.

"You know what I've been thinking about?", she questioned,

"Hm?"

"...How much I love you"

It was as if time came to a screeching halt, the moment those words left her lips. Afraid that this was all just a figment of my imagination, I hesitantly turn to face her.

"What?"

Maybe I was just hearing things. She laughs and gently caresses the apple of my cheek, like I was a piece of glass she was too scared to break.

"I love you, (Y/N)", she repeats,

Leaning in to kiss me once more. Little did I know that this night was the beginning of the rest of our lives together.

When Sam realized who it was walking towards us, her jaw drops in shock.

"Kirby?”

“Surprise!”, she greeted,

Putting an arm around the small of my waist, before I turn my head to meet her kiss.

“Wait, when did this happen?”, she questioned,

“About six months ago”, Kirby answered,

As I smiled at her.

“I’m so happy for you guys, really. It’s so good to see you again”

“It’s good to see you, too…I mean…better circumstances would’ve been nicer, but-”

Samantha tilts her head and shrugs in agreement.

"How are you and Tara holding up?", I asked,

"Holding up", she replied,

Looking back at her sister and friends.

"A friend of mine who works at the Plaza booked you guys a suite. You'll have extra security there", Kirby informs,

"Kirby-", Sam goes to argue

"Don't bother saying no", I interrupt,

Knowing Kirby wouldn't let Sam and the rest to fend for themselves out here.

"This is your safety, Samantha. You shouldn't risk it, especially with that psycho's targets on your backs", she explained,

Gesturing to her sister and friends, who were now approaching us.

"Kirby, this Mindy and Chad. Their friends of ours from Woodsboro", Sam introduced,

"Great, even more people to add to our suspect list", the young woman replied,

"I'm sorry?", I asked,

Scrunching my eyebrows in confusion.

"Well, this whole thing is obviously someone staging another stab movie, so...that makes you two the newest characters to look out for", she explained,

Before I could question any further, Kirby decided to reply instead.

"She's right"

"What?", I turn to my fiancé,

"That's a fair observation. Good to know we have another horror movie fan in our midst, could never have too many", she reassured,

I shake my head playfully. After making sure everyone was okay, the car we ordered to take them to the plaza shows up.

"That's your ride. Sam, you have our numbers"

She nods.

"Just let us know when you make it there safe. The Airbnb we're staying at is right across the street, if you need anything", I bid goodbye,

"Thank you", she smiles,

Before following her friends into the car.

~

Later that evening, we got back to the apartment after Kirby was done doing whatever else she needed to do at the at the police station.

"I am beat", she exhales,

Flopping onto the couch.

"You're telling me", I replied,

Joining her and laying against her chest, as she held me close to kiss the top of my head.

"I can't believe we're actually getting married"

"Yeah", I chuckle,

Kissing the forearms that were wrapped around me. We spend a few moments laying in the comforting silence, when she decided to speak once more.

"How tired are you?"

"A little tired", I turn to face her,

"What's up?"

That's when I notice the smirk on her face and immediately knew why she asked.

"Oh"

She giggles, before leaning in to kiss me. Despite how many we've shared, each kiss was only more exciting than the last. I flip onto my front and straddle the expanse of her thighs. Her hands making their way up my hips and settling around my waist to hold me where she wanted.

Her lips eventually trail past my cheeks and down to my neck. Marking my skin with one hickey after the other.

She slightly pulls away, while her fingers tug at the bottom of my shirt, almost as if to ask if she could take it off. The day I say no to that question was the day I'd officially lost my mind.

I nod and she pulls it off over my head, leaving me in just a black bralette.

“Good fucking god”, she praised,

Causing a delicious chill to run up my spine. Not wanting to waste anymore time, she reaches behind me and undoes my bra, before letting it fall down my arms. My top half was now left completely exposed to the draft in the apartment, which was made apparent by my buds immediately hardening at the cool air.

She pulls me in closer and wraps her lips around one, while the fingers on her free hand began to pinch and roll the other. There was no stopping the onslaught of whines and pleading moans that were escaping me.

I lean into her touch, as each hum she made against me caused vibrations to travel down to my core, only causing me to grow wetter and needier for what she had planned next. My hips began to grind against hers, granting me some kind of friction to alleviate the growing ache between my legs.

"How long has it been?", she mumbled against my breast,

"Too long", I exhale,

Getting back on my feet, allowing her to unbutton my jeans and drag it down to my ankles. I hastily step out of them, before straddling her once more.

She then lays me down and her lips make their way down my chest and stomach, till she was finally where I needed her. Her fingers wrap around the waistband of my underwear and slides them off of me, prior to being thrown across the room.

She parts my legs and takes a moment to admire the mess she was making out of me.

"So fucking good", she whispered,

Before nipping at my inner thighs and making them tighten around her head, to which she throws them over her shoulders and pulls me in even closer. Finally having had enough with teasing me, she dives right in. Her tongue licking up all of the arousal, as I gasp at the contact.

"Mmm, my sweet girl", she hums,

Sucking at my clit. She knew just what to do to drive me up the wall and have me begging for more.

Kirby always went on and on about the way I tasted. She said that if she had it her way, my legs would be over her shoulders all day long.

I could be do anything, like washing the dishes and she would just turn me around, get on her knees, spread mine apart and just dive right in. Once she'd gotten her fix, she would just get back up, kiss me and move on like she didn't just have me screaming and shaking.

Her fingers start rubbing up and down my slit, only adding onto the pleasure that was already consuming me.

She finally slips her digits into me and they immediately press against my g-spot. A gasp fleeing out of me as a result. It didn't take long, before she picked up momentum and was ramming into me faster and harder.

"Fuck, yes!", I whined,

Grabbing onto her golden locks for dear life.

She didn't let up once.

"You taste so fucking good", she cooed,

Swallowing me whole like I was the last thing she would ever have again. The familiar knot in my stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

"Don't stop!", I cry out,

"Don't plan on it", she teased,

Before continuing her ministrations on me. Her fingers repeatedly hitting my sweet spot every time she plunged into me, as my walls clenched around them like a vice. I knew it was only a matter of time before I-

"You're close, aren't you? Be good for me, baby, let me fucking have it"

That was all I needed to hear. I came with a screaming moan and let myself go all over her welcoming mouth. Once she was done swallowing the mess I made, she licked me up clean, causing a whine to escape me from the overstimulation. I was always so sensitive and she knew that. So it came as no surprise to me, when she giggled at my reaction.

Finally coming up for air, Kirby then pressed her swollen lips against mine.

"Can you taste yourself?", she mumbled with a smirk,

I nod and she pulls away.

"Think you can handle one more?", she questioned,

"I brought your favorite toy", she added,

Rubbing circles onto my sides with her thumbs. How on earth could I say no to that? I nod, still trying to catch my breath from the orgasm that I just had.

"I need to hear you say it, baby", she says,

"Yes, please", I shyly answer,

She chuckles and leaves me with a kiss to the cheek, before hurrying off towards the bedroom. She then comes back with the strap and places it on the edge of the couch.

I got back on my feet and helped her out of her clothes, as we continued making out. I get her top, pants, bra and thong off and no matter how many times I've seen her naked, I was always left speechless at how beautiful she was. Every dip and curve making my mouth water from how badly I needed her.

"Just to let you know, a picture would last longer", she teased,

"Oh, shut up"

She laughs, stepping into the harness, as I helped secure her into it. I lay back down and she gets in between my legs, wrapping them around her waist. She grabs the base and drags the tip up and down my slit, causing my hips to buck up against hers.

"Someone's excited", she exhaled against my ear,

Dragging her tongue against the tender point behind it.

Finally having had enough with the torture, she pushes the toy into me in one swift thrust. A surprised gasp escaping me as a result.

She began pounding into my needy cunt with such need, it felt like the couch was squeaking against the floor.

"God, you're tight", she mumbled,

Struggling against the firm grip I had on the toy, whilst burying her face in my neck, littering my skin with hickeys and bite marks.

The climax I hit not too long ago still rendered me sensitive, so, I was already on the verge of having another orgasm, only this one was growing more intense than the last one due to me being overstimulated.

By this time, the room was filled with the smell of sex and sweat. The sounds of my pathetic cries and our skins slapping against each other echoing throughout the halls.

I wouldn't have been surprised if we got a noise complaint by tomorrow morning.

"Does that feel good, baby? Did you miss this as much as I did?", she groans,

Ramming even harder and faster into g-spot.

"Yes! I'm so fucking close!", I scream between my moans,

"Do it for me. Cum"

The knot in my stomach snaps and comes undone, as I cried out one final time.

My body immediately goes limp, allowing Kirby to gently pull out, causing me to whine at the sudden emptiness. She always made me feel so deliciously full.

Once she rids herself of the toy, she scooped me up into her arms and lays me on top of her bare chest, before grabbing the blanket to shield us against the apartment's cool draft.

"That was...wow", I exhale.

My mind still reeling from the euphoric state it was just consumed by. She chuckles and kisses the top of my head.

"God, I love you", she says,

"I love you too", I replied,

Looking back up at her in awe. She leans down and presses another one of her kisses to my eager lips.

"So sweet", she smiles.

Let's just say I spent the rest of the night returning the favor.