#but the world doesn't care so i sobbed sucked it up and went to see people afterwards like nothing happened

[cosmicdreamgrl]

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[trashytracktales]

Fade to nothing | CL¹⁶

𐙚 summary ──── Maybe the summer break on the French Riviera fried their brain cells, because they've finally decided to simply not care anymore if someone sees them together. But when she catches the wrong stares, she starts spiraling. Now, Charles has to switch her focus back on him.

𐙚 pairing ──── Charles Leclerc x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, secret relationship going public, fluff & smut, overusing French terms of endearment, descriptive language, mature/sexual content, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, lots of teasing, reader dealing with insecurities.

𐙚 word count ──── 5.5k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 10, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Foaming at the mouth, because I find it so very offensive that I don't have my own personal Charles Leclerc. Anyway 😤. As Daniel Ricciardo said, enjoy the filth. Wait, no. That's me 🤍🎀

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THEIR DAY ON the French Riviera begun in a golden haze. Hand in hand, they strolled through picturesque streets, enjoying every moment together. In public. For the first time.

They walked across the town like they were the only two people left on Earth, passing by quiet art galleries and stylish boutiques. For the most part, all she focused on was the pure excitement of being with him, holding his hand had, taking pictures and making memories. But as the day went on, her awareness of the curious looks she caught grew stronger.

The sun is now slowly setting, painting the horizon in a warm orange glow just as they return to Charles' boat. As though nothing could possibly bother them here, Charles puts his arm around her and guides her on board. Then, he offers her a gentle smile, his gaze full of warmth while telling her he's heading over to make some drinks.

The girl watches him for a moment, allowing herself to take in the serene comfort he exudes, and wishing she could absorb even a small portion of it. She always feels it when she looks at him, and this time around, nothing is different. On the contrary, somehow, it's as if everything she feels for him comes together in a tiny, small point, a singularity so powerful that it makes her feelings collapse on top of each other.

She rushes to the cabin to change, but her hands start to shake halfway through, and she can feel the doubts weighing her down. She keeps thinking about the subtle judgment she saw in their eyes, which serves as a reminder that many people might believe they jumped into this too soon and that she is only a fling — a stand-in for his previous relationship.

Even though she tries to push the thought away, the sadness comes too quickly, and tears start to well up in her eyes. Suddenly, she feels small, so out of place, as though she’s a visitor in his life rather than someone who belongs beside him.

Which sucks, because she really, really likes him.

She was always confident; she thinks that was one of the reasons why Charles noticed her in the first place. But now, it is as if all her confidence has evaporated under the gaze of some random people she doesn't even know.

They both agreed to keep the relationship a secret in the beginning, just as they both agreed that today they won’t care if anyone sees them. They've stayed hidden from the world for far too long, but now she wonders if they should have waited just a little bit longer because, all of a sudden, she starts feeling too unprepared for the wave that is about to hit, which sends her spiraling.

Because it takes her too long to return, Charles comes to check on her, finding her in the cabin, sitting on the edge of the bed, half naked and clutching one of his shirts to her chest. Usually, he's not the type to intrude, but the soft sound of her quiet sobs fills the small room, piercing through him like a sharp, unexpected ache.

Without a second thought, Charles sprints over, kneeling down in front of her, his gaze steady, filled with raw concern, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She feels his hand on her thigh, which brings her back to the present moment, way too fast. Her breath is slightly shaky while her hands try to instinctively pull away from his gentle grip to wipe her cheeks, in order to hide any trace of her tears.

Looking down at him, she manages to let out a choked word that holds so much weight for her right now, “Us.”

“Us?” Charles raises an eyebrow. “What about us, mon cœur?”

She smiles, pressing the shirt closer to her chest, wiping the tears again with the back of her hand.

“I want you to have it all,” she admits, “And I'm starting to think that, maybe, I won't be able to give you what you need.”

He wants to immediately deny her statement, because in the four months they've been together, she gave him everything and more.

“What? What do you think you don't give me?” he asks, taking the same hand she wiped her tears in his palm.

She shrugs, “I just think… I sometimes think you deserve better.”

Better. The idea twists in his mind, disbelief and frustration tightening around his heart like a claw. He lets out a small scoff — not to mock her, but because it's hard for him to believe that she's doesn't think she's enough for him. It breaks his heart, because she cannot be further away from the truth.

“Where is this coming from?” asks Charles in a quiet, but firm tone.

She shakes her head, wishing she would've never opened her big mouth, “I was just thinking,” the girl repeats, letting out a dry chuckle. “It's nothing, really.”

Charles’ eyes travel across her face, taking in every micro expression, “You're crying, mon amour, so it's not nothing. Where is this coming from?” he asks again, “How much ‘better’ do you think I deserve?”

Her fingers start fidgeting in his grasp, eyes fixed somewhere over his shoulder, “Everyone loves you, especially your fans. You deserve someone who matches that, someone who belongs in your world, without feeling so small next to you.” She pauses for a moment, the words weighing her down, “I saw people staring today,” she explains, “I know we’ve both agreed to not care about what they think or if someone gives a fuck about seeing us together, but I realized how out of place I must look beside you. That’s all.”

Charles needs superhuman powers to ignore the frustration that’s slowly creeping around his shoulders. His eyes are intent, fixed on her, desperate for her to see what he does. He knows that her feelings are valid and very real to her, but that doesn't mean that they tell her the whole truth. At the same time, he doesn't want to make it worse by explaining why people's opinions shouldn't affect her the way they do. Instead, he gently grabs her hips, pulling her down to sit on his lap, so she's now straddling him, their faces inches apart.

“Listen to me,” he says, his voice low, “You see me, beyond everything everyone else sees, and that’s why you are more than enough. You are the realest thing that has ever happened to me, do you understand? You're not just a phase, and I'm so sorry I didn't show you enough how important you are to me. Because you are, bébé.”

She bites her tongue in order to stop herself from contradicting her boyfriend. Deep down, she knows she’s flawed in ways she can’t easily mend, no matter how much Charles wants to reassure her. A part of her wants to believe him, but even now, wrapped in his warmth, she knows the doubts will find their way back.

Charles’ hands drop on her waist, resting there while holding her close on his lap. He feels her doubt, understanding that she's struggling with more than what she lets him to see — another dagger to his heart.

“I'm with you, love,” he adds, rubbing his thumbs in small circles on her bare skin, “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Not if I have any say in it, is that clear?”

His voice sounds far too bossy, which makes her flinch a little, recognizing too late that he is far too blunt for the situation they both find themselves in.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—”

“No, don't apologize,” Charles rushes to say, pressing her head against his chest. “I’m glad you told me, but I want you to care about what I say, and not what people might say.”

He envelops her completely in his arms, and it’s like he’s just now realizing how small she feels against him, her body fitting perfectly against his. She feels that, too — the warmth and steadiness of his arms around her, the way he grounds her, making her feel safe.

“I never doubted you, you know,” she clarifies, “I was just thinking that, if I can't handle pressure, I don't think we should…”

He tightens his grip around her waist, refusing to let her finish her thought, his heart screaming in agony as she tries to move away. “Don’t go there, please,” he almost implores her.

“Why not?” she whispers.

“Because it’s not the case, I promise.”

“But—”

“Because you'd be so wrong. Because I love you,” he continues, as if it's the most casual thing ever. Like it is as obvious as tomorrow. As easy as breathing. As automatic as blinking. As if it's not the first time he ever says it to her face.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The words are ricocheting against her skull like he just put a spell on her. Of course Charles loves her. He showed her this through every little gesture along the way, and she knows he means it, because for the first time since they got back, she realizes she doesn’t want to run from this, from him.

She was so blind, but the next time she looks at him, her fingers tracing his cheek, she simply knows. Charles lets out a small sigh, leaning into her touch, then taking her hand back in his, pressing a gentle kiss on top of her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Tell me you see it,” says Charles, exhaling a heavy breath.

His gesture makes her feel warm inside, “See what?”

“That you are everything to me,” he answers softly, caressing her hand with his thumb. “That I want you exactly as you are.”

For a moment, understanding dawns in her eyes — the realization that they are real, in spite of what she might think — like a light that is breaking through the doubts that had clouded her mind for so long.

“You are mine and I am yours, and I won't have it any other way.”

She exhales slowly, nodding in his direction. Even though he's able to see the relief washing over her face, he still needs a confirmation, so he can anchor himself to it.

“Say you understand.”

“I understand,” she parrots, sinking her teeth into her lower lip.

He sees the hesitation, closing his eyes for a moment. “You understand, but you don't believe me,” Charles concludes, his voice full of wonder. He sucks in a breath while freeing her lip, brushing his thumb against it. His eyes lock on hers, “You really think there is someone else out there who makes me feel the way you do, hm? Who else is going to be this responsive, baby?”

To show her what he means by that, he pushes his thumb inside her mouth, Charles' soft voice sending shivers down her spine. She opens up more, instantly, gazing back at him, realizing how right he is. Meanwhile, Charles is slowly pushing his thumb further, watching her lips closing around it.

His mouth curls up into a smile, “That's it, mon amour. Oui, see that? I don't think there is anyone else out there who can be this good for me, so eager to submit to everything I do,” he laughs, “Hell, I don't even have to tell you what to do, you just know, baby.”

She closes her eyes for a split second, sucking on Charles’ thumb, her hands gripping tightly on his forearm. It makes him feel in control more than usual, which awakens something primal in him. He ends up caressing the side of her face with his fingers as he pushes his thumb deeper, pulling it out with a soft pop, before shoving it back in.

“So fucking good for me, and you think I deserve better? What’s better than this, mon cœur?”

As a response, she moans slowly around his deliberate, slow movement. He finds it so satisfying to see how easily she listens, understanding exactly what she needs from him in return — patience, kindness, reassurance, and trust.

Charles pumps his thumb one more time before pulling out, using it to leave a wet trace down her neck. His hand tightens around it for a brief moment, bringing her back to him. She opens her eyes, still under the spell he put on her earlier with just three little words. Her eyes are dark as she looks up at him through her eyelashes, the desire in her eyes sparking like fireworks.

“You need this, don't you?” he asks curiously.

She nods, which makes Charles smirk. It’s easy to notice the subtle shift in her energy — the way she presses her body closer to his, and the way her breathing deepens. Charles sees the vulnerability in the way she looks at him, but he knows is different now; she’s not hesitating anymore.

Something flickers inside of him as her hand lightly but purposefully caresses his chest; she wants him to take the lead. She isn't seeking power or domination, but asking him to guide them both through this. And Charles understands she’s giving him the space to be the one to move them forward, because this is more than just a physical need. It's about how she decides, here and now, that she trusts him completely.

They stand inches apart, the air between them heated and taut with silent yearning. Every part of their bodies is tuned to each other in a way that feels so delicate yet urgent, and Charles can feel her heartbeat synchronize with his, both of them pounding in anticipation. Her lips are slightly parted as her eyes glide up to his, a silent invitation he cannot refuse. The outside world seems so far away, as if all that remains is this common understanding that neither of them is willing to let go of.

The kiss begins shyly and slowly. At first, his lips are gentle against hers, a slight touch that seems to carry the weight of all they have been resisting. She reacts swiftly, her hand slipping into his hair, drawing him in and intensifying the kiss.

Then everything changes — the pressure grows desperate, almost vital as the intensity increases. She melts into him, pressing every inch of her body against his as if she can't get close enough. It drives him wild, forcing him to tighten his grip on her. 

Slowly but surely, their make out session turns into a silent cry for something more profound, as her fingers tighten in his hair to pull him closer. Their chests heave and their foreheads rest against one another until they eventually split apart, panting for one more breath of air.

“Forgive me, mon amour,” says Charles, trying his hardest to regain his composure.

“Forgive you?”

“Because I made you doubt us. Doubt me, and how I feel about you,” he clarifies, breathing wetly above her skin. “Will you let me show you how sure I am about this?”

She nods again, smiling, her hands still resting on his chest.

He gets up to lay her carefully on the bed, positioning himself between her legs as he unbuttons his white shirt. Meanwhile, Charles’ eyes glide over her bare chest and the way her wavy hair spills over the pillows, making her look like an angel.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers as he leans over to kiss her neck, then going further down, sucking bruises all over her chest on his way to her stomach, claiming his girl with every flick of his tongue against her skin. He cups her breast in his palm, squeezing her enough to feel him all over her body, his lips reaching over her panties. “In case I wasn't dead fucking clear already,” Charles adds softly, almost like a promise, hooking his fingers on the lace material before pulling it down her legs, “I only want us. Like this. Always.”

She moans softly, anticipating his fingers to send her to another realm, far from any doubt. And her world does, indeed, change completely the moment she feels his tongue at her entrance instead. So hot and soft and warm against her, that her fingers curl instantly into his hair while his tongue slips between her folds, as if that is its rightful home.

“Charles,” his name comes out of her mouth in the form of a whine, sending little jolts towards his already hardened cock.

“Putain,” he chokes out, raising his head to look at her, “Nobody tastes like you do, baby. So sweet and wet for me.”

“Charles,” she whines again, her chest rising and falling with burning intensity. “Please…”

“Patience, bébé,” Charles chuckles, his voice vibrating hotly above her, “Let me worship you, so you won’t question me ever again, yes?”

He would have heard her agreeing with him, if Charles hadn't slipped his hands under her until his palms gripped her ass to pull her closer to his mouth. As a result, he hears her moan louder than before, smiling as he connects his lips back on her pussy, sucking on her clit with a newfound thirst.

His grip on her is so strong that even if she wants to push her hips further, she can't move an inch. Which drives her crazy, because his tongue works her with such frivolous movements, bringing her so close to the edge, but she still needs more.

“Baby,” she moans painfully, getting too agitated that it makes her get up, proppting herself on her elbows to watch him. “Fuck, Charles,” she adds, admiring how beautiful he looks between her legs, lapping at her with one goal in mind.

She tries to rock her hips back against the pressure again, which just reminds Charles of how good he makes her feel. The thought drives him mad and, even though it’s all about her right now, he can’t stop fucking his hips down so he can rub his aching cock against the bed, searching for any sort of friction.

“I feel you, baby. Don’t hold back,” says Charles, his voice sounding muffled between her legs.

His tongue is enough to make her come all over his face, he knows that, but he can't deprive her of his fingers when she needs him the most. So, he uses his hand to split her further under his mouth, making sure he touches her sweet spot again and again. And again, until a wave of pleasure hits her like a tsunami, shaking her to the core as she cums involuntarily. She tries to pull him out of her legs, because she knows how messy it gets when she comes that hard, but Charles drops his mouth back on her, driving her through her orgasm as his tongue finally stops at her entrance to catch the rest of her release. Then, he swallows her sweetness, letting his forehead drop on her thigh.

Their breathing is the only thing that can be heard in the entire cabin for a while, her palm resting on his cheek to caress him gently as they both recover slowly.

“So fucking hot, mon cœur.”

She sighs, still too sensitive from the pleasure that reverberates throughout her body, “Come up here,” says the girl, patting Charles’ head.

He pushes himself up, still half dressed and very much hard in his boxers. Charles lays his weight on her, exhausted, like he's came ten times by now. Gently, he rests his head on her chest while her arm wraps around him and his palm curves around her breast, pinching her nipple lazily between his fingers.

“You’re so perfect,” he says, enjoying the way she gets covered in goosebumps under his breath. “So perfect and so mine.”

She can't say anything to him without her voice shaking, so she gently grabs his chin, bringing Charles on top of her to kiss him. She feels her own taste as their tongues collide, causing her to moan softly into his mouth. Even if this kiss is much, much tamed than the previous one, just the thought that he was between her legs makes her pussy tighten, as if she's been set on fire from the inside out.

“Can I return the favor?” she finally asks in a breathy voice once their lips part.

Charles hums at the mental image of her mouth around his cock, but decides to push the thought deep into his mind, “Who said I’m done with you, mon amour?”

Charles' hand travels to her pussy once again, his middle finger gliding lightly over her wetness. Her eyes close in pleasure, while her arms wrap around his neck, before she realizes what he's actually doing. Her eyes snap at him as he reaches the letter 'R', Charles grinning proudly from above her.

Their faces are so close she can see the twinkle in his eyes, and their breaths blend together in a sweet warmth.

She laughs, “Did you just spell your name on my clit?”

His expression instantly lights up when he hears her. “Planned to do it with my tongue, but I didn't expect you to come that hard,” he admits, joining her in laughter.

She blushes at his statement, remembering how true it is. It's impossible for Charles not to notice that, but he loves it when her cheeks and chest become so rosy as a result. He also loves the sounds she makes when she's turned on, so he's not wasting any more time before teasing her wet entrance with his finger, pumping it slowly, until he feels her clenching around it. Just to make her forget the shyness, of course.

His flemish gaze sweeps over her entire body and, seeing her so vulnerable and willing beneath him, makes him want to run his tongue over every inch of her, to cover her in kisses and love marks until it's too much, so that he can come all over her pretty nipples just at the sight of her.

“Fuck, if you could see yourself right now,” says Charles, exhaling sharply. “You make me lose my mind, you know that? I almost forgot I still have to show you how mine you are. You want that, baby, don't you?”

“Yes,” she returns to whining, because apparently that's all she knows recently.

And she does it again, when his fingers pull out of her way too soon for her liking. She follows Charles, getting rid — fucking finally — of his shorts and boxers with a quick movement, poising himself again in his place, right between her legs.

She swallows hard at the sight of him, her mouth drying up in record time. She remembers the first time she saw Charles naked and how it didn't even occur to her that they would even fit. Of course, he made it work, because that's what a man with a huge cock does — it makes it fit.

The girl follows Charles as he wraps his dominant hand around the base, then runs his hand along its length, massaging the tip to spread the pre-cum. He made her feel so good, she didn't even take into consideration how torturous it must have been for him. But the little hums he lets out as he positions himself at her entrance are enough of a signal for her to push her hips against him.

Unfortunately, the man meant every word when he said he wasn't done, so he won't simply let her have it, just because she’s so willing to take him. She has to understand, once and for all, that this is it — she is it for him.

Slowly, Charles taps the head of his cock at her entrance, teasing mercilessly. It's almost like a punishment for thinking so low of herself, for doubting him, his feelings for her and what they've built together so far.

A lot can change in four months, especially feelings.

He lets out a shaky breath as he parts her folds with his tip, but instead of pushing inside, he fucks his cock up between the lips of her cunt. Once. Twice. Three times, until he's leaking on her clit, coated in her wetness. It is a sinful feeling that makes them both moan in unison, an ecstatic duet between two souls who found each other at the right time, no matter what people would say about it.

Fuck people. All of them.

She throbs against him, the feeling of skin on skin settings her atoms on fire. His hardness feels so good between her folds that she needs to anchor herself to something, and the sheets are far too fragile for her grip.

“Yeah, you feel that, ma vie?” asks Charles rhetorically when he sees her losing herself. “Of course you do. The question is, did you feel it before?”

“Charles…” she whimpers, pushing her hips against his length in order to find the sweet friction she craves. “Need you. Please.”

Her eyes are watering as she feels the knot in her stomach, waiting for a release that seems so far away — he’s not even inside, fuck's sake.

“So pretty,” hums Charles, ignoring her pleading. “You're gonna look so pretty taking me, ma belle. You always do.”

She raises her head only to let her eyes wander down Charles’ body, from his flushed face to his toned abs, down to where his cock rests hardened between her pussy lips. His eyes are locked on where they're making contact, the image so intimate and powerful it makes him want to scream. She realizes that this is a punishment for him as much as it is for her, but he enjoys it more since he's the one in charge.

She gasps in surprise when Charles grabs her thighs, her head falling back down on the pillows. He pulls her closer as he leans over to seal his lips with hers, having no intent to be soft this time, the passion that burns between them pushing him so close to the edge.

Charles’ tongue tastes her in a rush as he pushes forward, his cock pressing deliciously on her clit, making her break the kiss with a pathetic whine.

So predictable.

“Can you, please, fuck me already?” she says, frustration evident in every word she utters.

Her pleas are so close to get him, wanting nothing more than to bury himself so deep inside her, until he feels her coming on his cock all over again. But Charles groans loudly, hovering above her chest to take one of her nipples in his mouth, biting her gently.

At that, her frustration only grows bigger, forcing her back to arch against him.

“Charles,” her tone is demanding now, motivated to make him understand she's done playing.

“Don't worry, I’ll fuck you so good, baby. Turn over for me,” he replies, anticipation tugging at the edge of his patience.

She does as instructed without saying another word, feeling his hands grabbing at her waist to pull her against him. Then, Charles pushes his palm gently between her shoulder blades until her face is buried between the silky pillows. She lets a muffled moan while his knees are pressing down into the mattress on either side of her thighs, his cock resting hard against her ass.

“Did I mention how pretty you are?” he asks, not expecting an answer in return, while he finally guides himself toward her needy cunt. He pushes in, slowly at first. Deliberate and calculated, as if their initial contact is meant to gather as much data as possible, so he can choose the perfect setup for what's about to come — the position, the angle, the pace. “Such a pretty girl,” he adds with a tamed moan, “Opening right up for me. Every single time, baby. Taking me so well.”

She tries to get up by doing a weak push-up, but her head drops heavy between her shoulders as she fucks back against Charles' length, the pleasure overwhelming her.

The feeling of having him like this makes her squeal, failing to find a single thing worth more in this world than Charles thrusting from behind.

“Oui, have my cock, baby, like that,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss on her shoulder, managing to hit her deeper from this angle.

Charles' touch is still gentle, though, like he's testing the grip, desperately wanting to find the perfect balance as he eases into a rhythm made just for them. He takes every gasp and every shiver of her body as signals, relearning what makes her pulse race and using everything in their favor.

She turns her head to the side when Charles leans over to clasp the edge of the mattress, his knuckles whitening with the force he's putting into it. The veins on the back of his hand look like they're about to pop at any moment, bulging from his skin and snaking up his forearm, finally out of her view as they reach his elbow.

He's so hot and she is so turned on that she could come again just by looking at his arms.

Charles' pace begins to build, the intensity in his breathing growing more labored with every thrust of his hips. Each one is bolder than the last one, like he's reaching the apex of a corner, pressing into her just enough to feel the thrill without losing control. As a response to his movements, she starts breathing in short spasms, the world around them becoming a blur.

“That's it, bébé. You're so fucking good for me, I'm not… fuck,” his voice almost gives out, feeling how close he is to cum from fucking her like this, so he decides to pull out completely in order to prolong the feeling.

Charles learned from an early age that every race is unpredictable, so he has to adapt to any condition.

It makes her cry at the emptiness, her pussy clenching wetly around nothing while he looks down, curious too see how bad she needs him.

Her head falls back between the pillows for the hundred time, too exhausted to scold Charles any more. So, she guides her hand between her legs, firmly massaging her clit, feeling her thighs start to shake. However, the pressure is not nearly as good, which makes Charles chuckle at her weak attempts.

Patiently, he grabs both of her wrists to keep them pinned to her lower back as he uses his free hand to rub the head of his cock against her throbbing hole.

“Chaaarles,” she whines loudly, pressing her cheek deeper into the silky fabric under her, mind too numb to protest further more.

He buries himself back in with a strong thrust, making her gasp at the fullness. Somehow, it feels so much better than before, her body so sensitive in all the places they make contact.

With every shift in pressure and pace, Charles reads her reactions as if they are telemetry data on his steering wheel.

“Please don't... Don't stop again, please,” she lets out another cry, feeling her walls clenching so sweetly around him. “You feel so good, fuck, I… I'm so close.”

He knows that. That's why he stopped in the first place. But now he's ready to give her exactly what she needs, freeing her wrists as he watch them fall next to her body as if they're lifeless. Charles then grabs her waist with both hands, thrusting into her so hard that the sound of their bodies slapping together drowns out both of their moans.

“Want to fuck you for the rest of my life, amour. Please, let me fuck you for the rest of my life,” he implores, panting aggressively.

“Oh, yes,” she agrees, squeezing her eyes in pleasure.

Charles pulls out again, making her grunt at the loss. But before she gets the chance to protest, he flips her over, shoving his cock back in while searching for her eyes, a smug smile hanging from the corner of his mouth.

She moans in relief, pulling him closer, wrapping her hands around his neck to bury her fingers in his messy hair.

“I almost started barking at you,” she admits, rolling her hips with his.

“I know, baby. Just wanted to see your face,” he explains, finding his pace once more.

“Oh, yes. Yes, feels so good,” she begins to moan uncontrollably under his weight, just as Charles leans down to rest his forehead against hers.

“I know, I know. I've got you, my love,” he kisses her again but it doesn't last this time.

Their mouths remain parted, breathing heavily against each other as she comes around his cock, gazing into each other's eyes as if they could see what shape their soul have. Seeing her face changing in pleasure, makes Charles fucking into her faster, following so closely after her.

His moans sound so melodious in her ears while he rides their orgasms, that she starts believing honey is dripping from his lips, because he cannot be real.

Charles is about to pull out when she stops him with a hand on his lower back.

“I only want us, too. Like this. Always,” she repeats his words from earlier, more determined than ever. “And I think I love you a tiny bit more,” she continues, running her hand up his spine. “That's why I was so scared.”

Charles shivers under her gentle touch, “You still scared?”

“Terrified,” she replies, giggling, pulling him in to capture his lips in a loving kiss.

The kind that makes the rest of the world fade to nothing.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[cosmal]

oooh hurt comfort jamie requests!!! how about james with a reader who calls him in the middle of the night because she went out with friends (they’re not very good friends) and they left her and now she’s lost and maybe a little drunk and a lot upset and james is like ?? understandably very angry @ her friends but he sucks it up to go find her? maybe a lil comfort at the end where he tucks her into bed :’)

it’s okay if not though!!! thank you for sharing your writing with the world, you are so talented! <3

lost

summary you call james drunk and lost when your friends ditch you on a night out.

content james potter x fem!afab!reader

note this is kinda sucky sorry

James hikes himself up onto his elbow in the dark, the only light comes from his phone that's buzzing on his bedside.

He scrubs at his eyes that feel as dry as his mouth does and blindly reaches for his phone. He misses it the first time and almost drops it once more before he swipes to answer.

He assumes it's Sirius, like it usually is this time of the night, and grumbles a, "What the fuck do you want?"

When he doesn't get some smart-ass comment in reply, just the tiniest hint of a wet sniffle, he freezes in his awkward position.

"Hello?" he says in replacement of his harsh welcome. His voice is still gruff with sleep.

"James?"

He can just hear it, the small sound of a voice he knows just as well as his own.

"James," you hiccup this time.

"Sweetheart, you okay?" he frets. His arm aches for him to get off of it. It shakes under his weight.

"Sorry." Your voice is half a messed-up syllable away from a slur. "Sorry for waking you up but I don't know what else to do."

He sits up off his cramped arm to swing himself over the edge of the bed. "What's the matter?"

"I'm a little lost," you say. James gets up to look for his shoes before he knows what he's doing. "I was out with everybody and I'm not sure where they went." This time he thinks you're definitely crying. He freaks even more.

He wedges his phone between his shoulder and his ear to squeeze his shoes on. He ignores the laces and shoves them on until his fingers sting. He doesn't care because all he can think about is you drunk and lost on some random corner.

"Do you have any idea where you are?" he asks and ignores the anger that starts to swell in his stomach. This isn't the first time your friends have ditched you but he's sure it'll be the last.

"The Commercial Hotel," you ramble off. He can hear you trying to hold your breath to hold back your bouts of sobbing tears. He wants to find your friends and give them a mouthful but he'd rather you in his arms instead.

"Right, well stay there, sweetheart. Don't move, I'll be there as soon as possible," he promises, keeping the phone to his ear the whole time.

It takes James less than five minutes to get to the hotel. If he wasn't so worried about you, he'd call Sirius to brag. He pulls up and finds you up ahead in the gutter. He forgets about everything other than you.

You've got your head in your knees and you don't notice him. He catches where your sparkly dress is riding up your thighs and his stomach twists. He's thankful he got here when he did.

He crouches down and can hear your cries. "Sweetheart," he says. The ground is cold and it smells awful. He really wants you up and in his car.

You lift your head from your knees and sniffle. Your makeup is smudged and your lips are stained pink. You're an image, despite how upset you seem.

"Jamie." You try to crack a smile and fail. You really are happy to see him but the feeling of being abandoned overrules everything.

James encourages your face away from your shoulder and pushes his fingers into your hair. He wipes away the dampness from your cheeks with his palm and frowns. "Can you stand for me, lovely?"

"They left me," you mope, closing your eyes. The last of your tears drop down from your eyes and bunch your sticky eyelashes into triangles. James desperately wants to kiss them away.

"I know, angel. They're awful," he says and tries to keep the harsh tone from his words. You wrinkle your face because he's an awful tell.

"What does that say about me?" you mumble and try to pull your face from his hand. James stands and outstretches his arms for you to grab onto.

"Nothing," he grumbles, "You're nothing like them."

With shaky hands and even shakier legs, you let him help you onto your bare feet and try to ignore the spinning in your head and the tightness in your stomach.

You tip forward and James stables you with a hand on your shoulder and an arm around your back. "Hey," he says firmly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you say, biting down into your bottom lip, "Sorry. Just really wanna go home."

"C'mon, then, lovely," he smiles, bending down to pick your heels up where you'd thrown them into the gutter.

He straps you into the passenger seat of his car and worries for a moment you might throw up all over his dash. He finds a bottle of water in his footwell and puts it in your lap, hoping for the best.

The entire drive home, much longer than the way over, he can tell you're trying to talk to him. Trying your best to sound thankful for your helpful boyfriend when all you want to do is fall asleep.

When he manages to wrangle you into his bed. After you tripped in his driveway, and in his sitting room. He worried you were going to throw up twice before he changed you into a pair of pyjamas and got you under the covers with a bowl on floor.

You're almost asleep when you say, "Thank you, Jamie," quietly. Sheets pulled up to your chin.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Get some sleep, yeah?"

You manage to convince him to get into bed with you before he can even manage to make a bed on the floor. Almost sleeping until the sun comes up before your hangover ruins it for you.

[rywritten]

What if after prison dream feelt like he was done with life or something and decided to go and kill himself so he goes to a high cliff but techno just happens too be there so just when dream was about to fall techno catches him by grabing him by the waist and holds trying too calm him down

woof! very dark prompt, but i like where you're going with this anon!

The storm was howling late into the night. The wind screamed in his ears, swirling in an ungodly hurricane of incomprehensible magnitude by the cliffside. Lightning cracked almost constantly in the starless sky. The trees swayed every which way the strong wind would bend it to its will. Rain fell and soaked through his cloak, yet he did nothing but stand at the very edge of the mountain.

Dream stood motionless, and the ground lay muddy and wet beneath his feet as if the earth itself felt his anguish.

For a moment, it occurred to him that what he's doing is dangerous and beyond careless, but then a part of him seemed to relish at the reminder. Good, it whispered. This is exactly what you need.

It would be quick.

A straight drop from the top of the world.

What would Sapnap think?

He only hesitates for a moment, lets himself indulge at the image of Sapnap's grief stricken face before he finally lets go, letting gravity do its thing as he slowly felt the invisible pull.

"Dream!"

The sudden scream had gone straight through his chest like a knife, drowning out the storm as he felt strong arms pulling him to the safety of the ground.

Then everything went quiet. Dream didn't need to turn around to know what was happening; to see who was there.

Techno had sent the both of them sprawling toward the forest, straight into a puddle of dirt and rainwater. They had landed with a loud thud, but Dream hadn't even felt the sting of sharp rocks grazing his skin. What he had felt was the displaced air, the vacuum that sucked at his cloak as he was physically pulled from imminent death and into the warmth of Techno's solid chest.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

He wanted it all to end.

"I don't know." He lies.

Dream felt Techno's arms tightening around him and if he felt them shake, he doesn't say anything.

"You're an awful liar." He hears Techno whisper next to his ears.

He isn't. Not really. Not when he's practically fooled every single person who used to care about him into thinking he was a monster.

"Never again." Techno tells him. "I don't know why you decided to do what you were about to do, but I'm telling you now I never want this to happen a second time."

Dream wants to laugh at him, at his command, as if he had any say in the matter. But he sort of wants to cry in his arms as well, soaking up all of Techno's warmth.

"Why did you stop me?" He asks him instead, refusing to meet his gaze.

"It could've been over," He was sobbing now. "I could finally put a stop to all of this."

"I don't care about how you feel," Techno nearly shouts, wiping at his tears with gentle hands despite the anger in his voice. "I care even less about who put that thought in your head. I will never never let you fall, Dream. Do you understand me? Never. You cannot die, not by your own hands and certainly not by mine."

[victor-aguilar]

Wait who's Nancy Beanie /genuine

-🍉

i am going to copy and paste what i sent zazz bc im feeling lazy

so like zazz was like what if charlotte was a nickname or smth and her real name started with n, nancy. bc ccrp employee lib name theory.

and so i took it and ran.

anyway under cut!!!

Nancy Charlotte Sweetly. She'd gone by Nancy her whole life until she met Sam. He liked Charlotte better. So of course, she started going by Charlotte. Anything to make Sam like her. She's gone by Charlotte for so long, she's forgotten who Nancy ever was.

NORA PERSPECTIVE

Nora used to be absolutely inseparable with her older sister. Nancy was her whole world. She used to be so full of life, there was this hunger to her, this desire. There was no one she knew more alive than her. Until she met Sam. Now, there was Charlotte. Charlotte was hollow and empty. She rarely ever spoke unless it was to agree with Sam or to please him. Everything she did now, was for Sam.

And at first, Nora tried to be okay with it. If this was what her sister wanted, then goddamn it, she'd learn to live with it. But she watched as year by year went by, her sister was nothing like she used to be, as if all the life was sucked out of her. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, she'd have to accept the truth.

Nancy was gone. She couldn't live with seeing her sister so miserable and dead inside. So, she stopped being there. What was the point anyway, her sister was gone. Charlotte Sweetly was just another stranger.

Nora's been doing okay for herself. She has a somewhat successful business. She does what she loves. There's an ache in her chest, a hole from something she's lost a lifetime ago, and some days the pain is so intense she can barely breathe, but she'll be alright.

One day, Zoey comes up to her. She doesn't know how it happened but she's grown quite fond of her. She's like the little sister she'd never had. (And though, she'd never admit it, there was so much of Nancy in her, sometimes it felt like her sister was alive and well, standing right in front of her.)

Zoey's in tears, sobbing, as she tells Nora how she'd fallen for Sam Sweetly. The same Sam she lost her Nancy to. Nora can barely stand, she feels like all the air has been pulled out of her, her head is burning and her skin feels too tight. She lost one sister, she's not losing this one too.

And maybe one day, Sam Sweetly disappears. No one really cares too much. Maybe, one day Nancy returns. And, maybe 3 lives are better for it.

[pawzforamoment]

Oh my golb I am screaming and frothing in the mouth over Fionna and Cake. I am so afraid yet excited for the next episodes like

AUGH

PLEASE

IT HAS EVERYTHING I AM SOBBING

Long incomprehensible ramble ahead

Soft Petrikov, more Betty, Toxic ass hell tear each other apart Bubbline, Gumlee getting together. Fionna seeing just how fucked Simon was actually as Ice King. Seeing Simon and Betty before their relationship, absolute awkward as hell dorks, especially Simon. It HURT seeing how oblivious and dense he was, as if I needed more reasons to relate to him. And holy crab apples the call backs, the references, the continuation of stuff that was left behind before like going back to the previous universe after The Lich won?!?! THE JUMP CUT TO SUDDENLY DEAD ICE KING AND GUNTHER I DIDNT EXPECT THAT AT ALL THAT WAS INSANE.

I love seeing Fionna grapple with the effects of her actions too, from killing all those candy people, her reckless and rash behavior resulting to Martin dying and the tank crashing. She used to be so excited to be in a magical world and she started to realize it isn't like she thought it up to be. Becoming afraid to take risks because she's afraid she'll lose Cake too and holding Cake back multiple times in fear of her safety. Cake hasn't changed at all yet throughout the whole series and it ends up being a stark contrast to Fionna in the end. Cake is still being reckless and while not outwardly malicious, just wants to save their world and return it back to how it was meant to be. Not grasping the consequences that'll bring for Simon. Cake wasn't there to hear Simon's story, or be comforted by Simon the way Fionna was, She doesn't even really seem to be as hung up about how their actions has affected others. For the first time in a long time she has agency of her own. She doesn't see Simon the way Fionna does now and it doesn't help she's easily the most worst off when things aren't magical in her own universe, stuck as a mundane cat that can't talk and dependent on her owner Fionna.

I love that both Simon and Fionna hasn't realized the actions they're doing may be harming people in ways they didn't think about before and is slowly realizing it. Simon realizing how much he meant to Marcy slowly, and how he hasn't realized that his obliviousness of Betty's downright toxic tendency to throw away everything for him has doomed her to continue on acting upon it or that he's unintentionally feeding into it himself. He only saw the impulsiveness, the confident and assertive and fun Betty. He didn't even think about just how big it was to actually throw away that trip to Australia really was for her, or ever got the chance to recognize that she's sacrificing too much of herself for him. And like now, he hasn't truly grasped just how much it'll affect Betty when she learns that he's working to reverse the wish entirely to keep him safe by trying to put on the crown again. And the same for Betty too, Betty didn't consider that Simon would be in so much despair when she's gone and he's sane and alone. And how desperate Simon was for her. It sucks, they love and care about each other so much that they're willing to sacrifice everything for each other, not even thinking about how that's exactly what they DON'T want for them to do, or realize that maybe oh idk, Taking care of yourself is in itself can be an act of love for them too. Betty was so fixated on going along with whatever Simon is doing, Simon none the wiser not realizing how much she's actually sacrificing in hindsight, If he knew he would've definitely stop her, if they had the chance to grow as a couple, I could imagine that they would've worked it out, Maybe Simon could've learn to be more assertive and push for Betty to do what SHE wants, and reassuring her that HE'LL be there for HER. That it doesn't have to always be her giving everything, and just her being herself is enough. But no, that never happened because shit basically went down so hard and fast they never got the chance to grow, and learn to be more functional together. They're stuck in that infatuated love that twisted into a self destructive spiral of self sacrifice for one another, too immature to really think about how bad this is of an idea for them. But are so desperate for each other all the same. They keep getting ripped apart before coming to terms with their situation fully and learning from it.

God I hope that Fionna helps Simon realize how his own actions may have been affecting his loved ones he currently has and that he was too absorbed over his sadness and madness and self loathing that he was blinded over the fact that there's many people who still care and love him. There's people that worked so hard to save him, to get him the second chance of living after it was cut short by the madness of the crown. How that maybe trying to turn back into Ice King could be so heart breaking for not just Betty, but everyone back home to his own reality, Bonnie, Finn, Marceline especially. Betty gave him another chance at living a full life, with people he love yet he's throwing it away again and making her sacrifice null, and abandoning Marceline again too. Sure it's in service of wanting to see her again, but she was content with just him being safe.

(insert Marceline saying "He needs to take care of himself for me because I still need him." By Chili Heeler from Bluey)

And how Fionna asked if there could've been another way to save Marcy instead of putting on the crown. It kinda weirdly matches with how Simon is trying to save them by putting on the crown. And maybe there may have been a better way. And maybe with the case of Marcy there may have not been, but what about with Fionna and Cake's situation? We know that before they met Simon was just depressed and lonely, even longing to be Ice King again because things were simple and easier that way. He's not concerned about his own well being in any way at this point, The only thing that probably kept him from being outright drastic and obvious is that he knows enough that the people he cares about would worry about him if they see him trying to summon Golb/Trying to genuinely become Ice King again. So when presented with a "Good" reason to be Ice King as it'll save Fionna and Cake and return their world back to normal, He takes it immediately, doesn't even question whether there may have been another way, And maybe he thought that his loved ones wouldn't be as sad because he's totally not doing it out of despair guys it's to save Fionna and Cake!

Ok in their defense it probably is hard to try and think about an alternative way to do do while being chased but still. Simon hasn't even thought about how the others would feel about him just, Straight up missing since he believes everyone's up in their own lives and he's just forgotten sad old man.

Anyway, Petrigrof is beloved, everyone deserves a hug, I hope Baby Finn is ok, I hope I see Marceline and PB and the others back where Simon was from react. And I'm glad that Fionna recognizes atleast some of the pain Simon is going through and why he's working so hard to get back to Betty. Ngl It hurt me so much to see how Simon has been treated over how depressed he is about Betty and how everyone keeps going on and on about Ice King.

Anyway that's all for now, I shall retreat into consuming fan art of the show now.

[lemon-muncher]

Ok, imagine your Kiribaku x reader but its denki and deku and todoroki 🫦. Its still Aly i just dont feel like getting my computer 😂.

Hi Aly 👋 You're feeding into my fantasies and I love it

Saw the notification and I swear my eyes rolled to the back of my head ;>

Anyway enjoy this

Izuku Midoriya

-The sweetest service sub. In your relationship it took awhile for him to open up sexually to you but when he did he devoted his whole existence to pleasing you

-Like anal play but he gets super sensitive really quickly....luckily he's a slut for overstimulation😉

-Likes positions that allow you to hold him close. It makes him feel so loved, like his efforts in pleasing you aren't for nothing

-Is he a good boy? Most days. Are there days when he's bratty? Abso-fucking-lutly!!! When Izuku his having a bratty day, he goes all out. He wears tight and revealing clothes, flirts with others right infront of you...God he just wants to be pounded into

-On his bratty days he preferred to be fucked rather than making love with you. Be rough, be dirty, treat him like he's your own personal whore. He won't mind.

-Wants to try more extreme bdsm with you. He's scared to ask because he knows you care but come on...he breaks his bones like it's nothing. Yeah he wants more than chains and whips. Pretty much open to anything except choking. After the Shigaraki event during his first year at UA, he panics at the feeling

Shoto Todoroki

-He's new to having sexual relationships. He doesn't know what to do, and hasn't had the time to even think of it. In conclusion, he's pent up, like seriously pent up

-He got into a relationship from Izuku who wanted to try something new. You of course were open to it, using it as punishment for Izuku's bratty attitude.

-Doesn't have a preference for position. As long as he gets fucked dumb, he's ok with anything.

-When you fuck him, he does like when he can feel you against him. If he's on his stomach, he likes feeling the weight of your body against him. If you have him ride you, cuddle and caress him. Human contact is his love language

-Another one who gets sensitive but not in the way you think. Somedays you'll have him fuck Izuku, instructing his every move. Knowing you have full control over him as he slowly fucks his best friend, he can't help but edge himself. Crys everytime...he's so pretty

-He's a good boy but after seeing Izuku get punishments from you, he wants to try it. Has definitely tried to ask you about impact play and overstimulation. Can't find the right words to tell you though. Probably will write it down on a note card and slip it in your bag during class.

Denki Kaminari

-He's just a slut... what more can I say? Literally the kinkiest person to exist in the hero world. So of course he'd be down to be pegged/fucked

-Hes a switch leaning sub as to where Izuku and Shoto are natural subs through and through. With him being a switch it leads to more options when having sex with him and with others.

-Fuck him like you hate him. Make him scream into the pillows. He expects nothing less than to have his eyes roll to the back of his head, drool dripping from his mouth and his body shaking from overstimulation

-Likes positions that allow you to have control over him. So doggy style is a common reassurance for him

-Bend him over the edge of a bed or desk and eat him out. This'll get him sobbing in minutes. If you allow him to touch his cock while doing so, he'll overstimulate himself

-Can you tell he's a hoe for overstimulation? Oh yeah. Doesn't hate edging but doesn't prefer it. Only likes it when you edge him for hours and then go straight to overstiming him.

-When he wants to do the fucking, he's a fan of using his quirk. Definitely coupled with Izuku's kinky ass. Denki will zap Izuku all over while fucking him to your command. Doesn't do the fucking often but when he does, he goes all out. When he wants to suck you off, you'll zap you in his mouth....kinky bastard

I did do this right before I went to bed and got excited about it. If you want a full post with the three of them together let me know

[leighsartworks216]

Feeling Shitty

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic x gn!reader (familial/Dad Mic)

Warnings: feeling like shit, depression i guess, hurt/comfort, slight fem reader vibes kinda?? But it can be read as neutral. Oh also swearing just a little

Word Count: 949

ao3 link to fic

Masterlist

With a sigh, you looked away from your homework and to your phone. The screen was dark; no new notifications to distract you from the paragraph you'd reread about three times already. Your brain couldn't focus. You just couldn't bring your mind to pay attention to your work right now. You didn't know why, you just felt like garbage. You wanted to ignore it, but the more you did the stronger the shitty feeling came.

You picked up your phone, hesitating several times to send a text.

To: RadioDad

< Hey dad

> HEY NUMBER ONE LISTENER!!! > Whatssup

< Movie night?

It took him a minute to respond. Usually when you had movie night, you were sad or "going through it" (curse Ashido for teaching Mic that phrase). He was probably trying not to freak out worrying about what was wrong.

> Sure thing kiddo!

Well, there was no point trying to get your work done right now. You collected your papers and books and stood up.

"Done already, (Y/N)?" Momo asked, looking up from her own work. Most of the girls were all hanging out at her house to study and do homework.

You chuckled nervously, putting on an assuring smile. "Yeah, all done," you lied. "Thank you for having me over, Momo. See ya, girls!"

You could feel the weight of keeping up the act lift off your shoulders the moment you stepped off the premises. Books tucked under your arm, you walked home.

It was quite peaceful, actually. Birds were fluttering from one tree to another, chirping to each other and avoiding any stray cats. People were walking their dogs, all of which wagged their tails and trotted happily to see and smell everything on the path.

Still, your heart felt heavy, and you couldn't keep ignoring it.

It felt like no time at all had passed when you were standing in front of the door to your house. You must have zoned out thinking about everything going on and what you had to do that you were just going through the motions to get back here.

With a sigh, you unlocked the door and entered, shutting it behind you. You kicked off your shoes haphazardly by the door and dragged yourself to your bedroom. You dropped your books on your desk. Then, you face planted right into your mattress.

Feet hanging off, still in your school uniform, you couldn't care less. It was too late when you realized you were crying, body shaking as tears spilled from your eyes. Your sobs were muffled by blankets, that would be stained in no time at all by your tears, and the world fell away around you.

-

"...ddo? Kiddo? Hey, you wanted movie night, so you're gonna get movie night!"

A hand was shaking you, the voice that followed it clearly concerned for your disheveled state. You spoke, but your voice was muffled in the blankets you'd fallen asleep on top of.

"What?"

You turned your head, opening a bloodshot eye to look up at your dad. "I don't want to get up." Mic nodded, humming in fake thought as he brought his hands up to tie his long blonde hair in a top knot. "Okay, well, that sucks."

You decided to play along. "Mmm, does it?"

"Yeah, it does," he said, leaning down on his elbows on the bed next to you. "Because I ordered take out, pulled out a bunch of feel good movies that I know you like, and even went through all the trouble of making a pillow fort with the couch cushions, just for you to want to stay here?" The entire time he spoke, he had a grin on his face. The upbeat man was hardly ever able to contain his smiles. "Doesn't that just suck?"

You couldn't stop your own little smile either. He'd gone through all this trouble just because you felt like shit. You sighed and rolled your eyes, moving your stiff arms to push you up off the bed.

"Fiiiiiiine, I'll go out there."

"Hey! Now that's what I'm talking about!" He bounced up, almost running out your door and toward the kitchen. "I got your favorite! And a giant cookie pie on the side because why not?"

-

Your first movie, plenty of takeout and movie snacks later, Mic suddenly turned to you.

"So, what's gotcha so bummed out?" he asked. You had his undivided attention. You were his kid and he made sure you knew it every second of every day.

"I don't know," you said, words spilling out before you could stop yourself. "I mean... I just... I don't know. I just feel like garbage and I don't know why. It's like everything suddenly sucks, but it doesn't. Everything is great right now and I know that, I just..."

He nodded, putting an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him in a side hug. "It's okay, listener, I understand. It's alright," he assured you. "I'm glad you told me."

"I don't even have a reason for it," you complained.

"And that's fine, you don't need a reason," he cut you off before you could complain even more. "Sometimes you just feel like shit and you gotta take it in stride. Just do somethin' to get those funky feelings out, ya know?"

You nodded and felt him kiss your head.

"Coolio. Now, what movie you wanna watch next? We got Ponyo, Howl's Moving Castle, My Neighbor Totoro," he listed off.

"Why so much Ghibli?"

"The vibes! And to a lesser degree the art. Oh and the music!"

"Dad, you've got too much energy for 11pm."

"PONYO PONYO PONYO FISHY IN THE SEA!"

"STOP! You're gonna break something again!"

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

(This is my Harringrove for Ukraine piece for @callieb, though it's not actually Harringrove. It's a post s3 Billy centric, angst hurt comfort ficlet....so I may have to write up something else now that I really think about it....yeah, I'll write up something better)

Billy doesn't know how much time has passed since he went up against the monster that stole his body, but he does know one thing. 

He's definitely dying. 

It hurts…and sucks ass, but it is what it is. 

He supposes it's fine. At least he stood up to it in the end. He broke free from the control. He helped that girl. 

The one, the only one who saw him. The him inside the monster. 

So he at least did something worthwhile in his sad pathetic life. 

Right?

He protected her. 

She's alive. She will be able to see her friends and family again…

And Billy…

Well, it doesn't matter because he's alone. 

So, no one is going to mourn him. No one is going to cry over Billy Hargrove.

So, it's fine. 

He can let go. 

Nothing is tying him to this miserable plane of existence. 

His moms already gone…so there's nothing…

Nothing and no one. 

"Billy?"

No one gives a shit about him…..

"Billy!"

Right?

"Wake up, Billy!"

So….why is someone calling his name?

"Billy, please. Open your eyes!" 

Someone is holding his hand, putting pressure on his chest…

"Not like this! You can't give up like this! Please!!" 

Who is it? Who is pleading so desperately? Don't they know he's worthless? Don't they know what a horrible person he is? All the shitty things he's done? He was stupid enough to get possessed for fucks sake! and anyways, don't they know even if he was a good person… that it's too late? He's got too many holes in his guts. He can feel his life force slipping away with the blood pooling beneath his cooling body.  

It's over. 

He's finished. 

The sobs are quiet in his ear. "Don't go."

There's nothing left for him here…

"Please don't leave me." The voice breaks as they softly add, "Don't leave me with Neil." 

And with sudden and frightening clarity, Billy knows the owner of this sad miserable voice. He knows it and he knows how wrong he's been…knows the voice is right. He can't die like this. He can't leave….he does have a reason to stay…

If he dies….his dad might…

He can't let him hurt…

"Ma..Max." He is barely hanging onto this world but he speaks her name with a mouth full of slick black sludge. He can't get his eyes to open or his limbs to move but he can still force himself to speak. "Don't cry." 

"Billy? Oh, my god, hang on! Help! Someone help me!" 

Now he's aware of multiple pairs of hands touching him, pressing down on his abdomen, on his chest. Someone is pulling back his eyelid and shining a light. Many people are talking, yelling over one another. 

But Billy doesn't care about them. 

He just wants Max to know- "It's OK. Max…I won't….I won't leave you with him." 

Her voice is farther away when she calls out to him, "They're going to help you. So just hang on a little longer. You hear me? Hang on!" 

He has no strength left to answer her but he manages to crack one eye open and sees her dirty face, bloodshot eyes and tear soaked cheeks. 

He wants to tell her sorry again. Tell her not to cry. But he can't…he can't even keep his stupid eye open. He's just so….

Everything goes black.

…Tired.

The next time he opens his eyes, it's light outside. He's lying on a bed and not the nasty concrete floor of the mall so he must be in the hospital. He tries to sit up but every nerve ending in his body lights up like a christmas tree. 

Fuck. He's bananged up real fucking good and there's an IV in his arm, though by the amount of pain he's in, it must be out of the good stuff. 

He groans and glimpses the movement of red hair next to him. 

He's a little surprised that she is actually here. "Shit…Max?"

She looks up, eyes still as red as they were the last time he'd seen them. "Billy!" She moves, he thinks, to hug him, but stops herself short. Instead she awkwardly sits back down. "You've been asleep for three days." She says quietly. "I didn't think you were going to make it."

He sighs, which causes his ribs to ache. "You and me both, shitbird." 

"I'll go get the doctor." She stands to leave but Billy pushes through the pain to grab her wrist, stopping her from going.

"They can wait. I'm not going anywhere." 

Max looks confused but nods and sits back down. "OK." 

They are both quiet for a moment, neither really knowing what to say. 

The thing is, Billy has a fuck ton of shit to say. So much to apologize for. So much to atone for.

"Max?" 

"Yeah?"

He might as well start with…"I'm sorry." 

She looks taken aback. "For what?" 

"For being such a dick to you." He replies, eyes trying to meet hers but failing miserably. "For…hurting you…for everything really…" 

She's staring blankly at him. Like she's waiting for him to say haha! Just kidding. "Ummm. Thanks…I guess." 

"I'm serious, " he insists. He needs her to know he's being sincere. "I've been an asshole. And I took a lot of shit out on you and blamed you, and that wasn't fair. I've been a shitty brother." 

"Billy…I get it OK? I…I won't say that it's fine because you're right, you've been a dickhead, but like…I understand why…." She looks down at the floor. "I know why you're so angry all the time…and scared." 

He feels a bit nauseous and finally remembers what it was that kept him from death's door. 

"My dad…" He pauses, doesn't know how exactly to go about this. "He hasn't…he hasn't hurt you has he?" 

Finally her eyes snap to meet his and they are wide with emotion. "What?" 

"When I was dying….you said….you told me not to leave you with him." 

Her cheeks flush a little. "You heard that?" 

"Yeah…I heard it….so I need to know if he hurt you."

She shakes her head but he can tell there's still something wrong. 

"Max…please. How can I protect you if I don't know what's going on?" 

She hides her face from his view but she finally answers. "It was just once but…he's been saying a lot of things so…." 

"It won't happen again." He promises. And for the first time ever, he can feel the confidence behind his words. He just fought of a fucking demon…as scary as his dad has been in the past, Neil Hargrove is nothing compared to that.

"But-"

"I faced off against a monster that possessed me, and yeah it about put me six feet under," he says, motioning to his blood stained bandages, "but I survived. And I swear to god, Max, I'm never going to let my dad hurt me…or you…ever again." 

She doesn't respond for a second but suddenly she leans over and hugs him. "Thanks for surviving, Billy." 

It hurts like a bitch, but he finds himself hugging her back. "No," He replies, blinking back a wayward tear. "Thank you for wanting me to."  

[beespeaks]

Just in case...

Stu Macher X Reader 

Stu gets nervous before his party and decides to come see you in case anything goes wrong...

Aged up characters in college/uni

Tags: Swearing, mentions of murder, character death, basic Scream plot with added character and it’s in college though that’s not mentioned, Making out, angst

Warnings: mentions of murder/violence, major character death

——————————————————————————

You were laying in bed, book in hand, trying to process the day. Casey Becker and Steve Orth had been murdered the night before, and if you were being honest, that scared you. From what everyone had said at school and what you had heard on the news, it had been a pretty violent death too. You didn’t understand who could ever do something like that and why? What could have possibly possessed someone to do that? It wasn’t right. 

You tried to push the thoughts away and focus on the book in your hands but you couldn’t shake the fear swirling in your belly. You were home alone and that just made it worse. You usually craved the nights your parents would go away and leave you alone, but tonight you wished there was someone else here with you. 

Stu was having a party tonight, and he pointedly didn’t invite you which just made you feel worse. In fact, he went out of his way to uninvite you and tell you not to come. You weren’t sure why he didn’t want you there or what you had done to upset him, but you pretended you didn’t care, laughing it off like it was no big deal. You hated parties anyway. 

A tapping on your bedroom window pulls you away from your thoughts and the neglected book in your hands. There was silence for a second as panic mounted in your gut and then you saw another flash against the window. Someone was throwing something at your window. The only person who ever did that was Stu. You hoped. 

Shakily, you padded across the floor to the window and peaked out into the night. It was hard to make out anything much but when you saw another flash against the glass, you knew it was Stu. This flash was green. He was throwing Skittles again. When you had asked him why, he said they were more fun than pebbles.

You sigh and slide the cool glass up the frame and peer out just as a red Skittle goes flying past your head into your bedroom. 

“Fuck!” Stu curses. “Sorry!” He stands on the pavement outside, a sheepish look on his face. He’s hunched in on himself, almost like he’s cold. 

“Can I come in?” He calls, his voice sounds strange and yet it still comforts you just like it always has. You shut the window and run down to let him in, trudging back up the stairs before he even gets in the door and refusing to look at him. Just because you hadn’t planned on going to that party, doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck that he didn’t want you there. 

Your bedroom is cold when you return and it feels smaller with Stu leaning against the doorframe behind you. 

“Y/N.” Stu starts and you turn around to look at him. He looks conflicted and small somehow, even considering his tall frame. Something is definitely bothering him and you want to ask what it is. You don’t though, something tells you that you don’t want to know. 

“Why wasn't I invited to your party?” You ask instead, you decide you can ask him about it tomorrow. Stu looks surprised by your question, it probably hadn’t occurred to him that it would bother you. Part of you thinks that’s sweet. 

“You don't want to come. Trust me.” Something dark laces his words but you brush it off, choosing instead to let his words irritate you. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him. 

“How do you know? I might have wanted to.” Stu smiles slightly but his eyes still won’t meet yours, he keeps them trained on his shoes. 

“It sucks. You would hate it.” He murmurs and you scoff. 

“So, that’s why you’re here then, your party sucked so you thought you’d come and annoy me. How did you know I wouldn't have plans? I could have gone out tonight despite the curfew.” You almost yell. Stu is one of your best friends and there is defiantly something more there, but he always treated you like a second choice. A backup plan. He was always off with Tatum - his actual girlfriend, or Billy Loomis. The only times he ever had time for you was when no one else was around. You were sick of being a secret. 

Stu sighs at your outburst and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m glad you were home.” He whispers. It’s quiet, you almost miss it but it changes something. All the anger and hurt you had been holding onto vanishes and you finally take a proper look at the blonde boy in front of you. 

The usual loud, goofy idiot is quiet and he looks like he might break any second. He’s standing as close to the doorframe as he can, like he needs to it to hold himself up. His eyes are on anything but you and even from here you can see his breathing is uneven. 

“Stu? What’s wrong?” Taking steps towards him, you reach your hand out and touch his shoulder. He flinches slightly before leaning into your touch. “Stu, look at me.” You keep your voice low and soft, like you're talking to a frightened animal. Shaking his head a few times he turns his head slowly to you. His blue eyes are scared and sad and something else that breaks your heart. Now that he’s finally looking at you, his resolve starts to crumble. You were always the one thing that could break down his defenses. You were the one person he never had to pretend with. You were his safe place. 

“I’m scared, Y/N.” His voice breaks and then he’s crying, almost hysterically. Deep, laboured breathes and attempts to stop. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug as fast as you can, wanting to make him feel even a little better as soon as you can. 

His arms wrap around you instantly, his face buried in your neck as he sobs. He’s shaking and digging his nails into your back but you don’t care. You have no idea what it is that could have him this upset. Stu has always been sensitive and he’ll cry at any sad movie the two of you watch, but even you’ve never seen him like this. 

“It’s okay, Stu. It’s okay.” You whisper as you press a kiss to his temple. He doesn’t tell you, but this is all he needed. All he ever needed. 

He does whisper something into the crook of your neck though. You don’t catch what it is until he pulls himself away from you to look into your eyes. He swears your eyes are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His own eyes are still red and filled with tears. 

“I love you.” He whispers and you gasp softly. If he had told you this any when else, you would have called bullshit and told him there were easier ways for him to get laid than fucking with your emotions. But the look in his eyes and the way he holds onto you like a lifeline, you can’t believe it’s a lie. You also can’t lie to him. 

“I love you, too.” 

His lips are on you before the words are even fully out of your mouth. A passionate, heated kiss filled with unspoken words and over a year of holding yourselves back. Your hands grip in his hair and his knead at your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. You cling to each other like you don’t need anything in the world as much as you need this, like he’s the oxygen you’ve been craving, like you’re the rain after the longest drought. 

The two of you move backwards and fall down onto the bed, never letting go of each other. He’s on top of you now and his lips are traveling to your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses and whispers of ‘I love you’ over and over again. You whisper it back every time. Even if you don’t know why he’s falling apart, you know that’s what he needs to hear to keep him together. 

Just as his lips are back on yours, softer and slower now but still as passionate as before, you hear a ringing. Stu pulls back and curses as he pulls a cellular telephone from his back pocket. He looks defeated and scared again. 

He doesn't answer the phone, just switches it off and slips it in his back pocket with a sigh. You don’t know why, but you know he’s about to leave. Maybe it was Tatum. She is his girlfriend after all. The reminder pangs in your chest. 

Stu’s blue eyes meet yours and you can’t find it in you to ask about Tatum or push him away like you should when he kisses you again. Softly and sadly. A kiss full of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I love you’ and something that feels like goodbye. 

He pulls back to rest his forehead against yours and just breathe in your familiar, comforting scent for a moment longer. 

“I love you.” He whispers before getting up and leaving the room. He doesn’t look back.

When the phone rings in the middle of the night and your friend Randy recalls the events of Stu’s party, you collapse onto the floor as everything clicks into place in ways you really wish it wouldn’t. It felt like goodbye, because it was. 

Stu Macher was dead and you were always going to think about the fact that you saw him last. You could have stopped him, if you had just asked him one more time if he was okay. Just one more time and he might have told you what was happening. One more time and he might still be here.

At least now you knew why you weren’t invited to  his party.

[voxmortuus]

I'm Sorry

Pairing: Cpt. Syverson x F!Reader

Universe: Sand Castle

Words: 2k

Warning: There is a lot of wordy substance before you get to the good stuff. I didn't want to jump right into the smut of things. I wanted to build to that.

Summary: You and Sy had a small argument and he left for work, not realizing the timing of things. He had forgotten your anniversary and didn't realize how he had made you feel because let's face it sometimes he doesn't always pay attention to how he talks to people. He realizes his wrongs and comes home and showers you with affirmation that you have done nothing wrong.

TW: Abandonment fear | Feeling of wrongdoing | Mild Language | Angst | Fluff | He Bathes you | Oral (Female Receiving | Passionate/makeup Smut | Unprotected Vaginal Penetration | Body Fluids | Internal Vaginal Ejaculation | Slight primal Sy | Cuddles

Prompt: None, random headcanon

Image Credit: Google

My Masterlist | Taglist | REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN

It didn't happen every year, but this year, this year was unique. The many ups and downs you two have had always made you feel panicked and usually worrying that maybe this was it, was he done? He didn't come home last night, and he didn't bother to call. It was a diminutive fight, and you felt horrible, like you had really wronged him in such a small way this whole thing ate at you. Spending the night crying on the couch with a pint of Ben & Jerry's at your side, you kept the living room dark while occasionally taking a sip of your last bottle of red wine. Looking at your phone waiting for him to text you, to even call it was agonizing.

Waking up, you think to yourself that this is a new day, a brand new start. Looking out the window, you watch as the neighbor children get off the bus for school. Letting out a breath, you make your way to the kitchen and make yourself a cup of coffee and realize you've slept over half the day away You think to yourself, 'Today will be okay.' but in the back of your mind, you're still freaking out over the other night. Beating yourself up all over again, you place your coffee on the counter; and make your way back to the living room, curling up on the couch; and crying some more.

Meanwhile, Sy is on the training grounds training some new idiots how to do their job. He looks at his watch and lets out a heavy breath, and shakes his head. Walking around, he looks behind him a moment to see someone heading his way.

"Captain, did you forget what yesterday was?"

"Huh?" He asks with a slight arch to his lip and brow.

"Sir! It was your anniversary!" they all yell.

Looking back down at his watch and checking his phone, Sy growls. "Fuck!" He hands the cup off to someone else and heads out. "Fall out!" He yells over his shoulder and heads inside to grab the keys to his truck. Looking in the passenger seat and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, baby." He says aloud and starts the vehicle heading home.

You've fallen asleep crying had knocked you back out. You didn't bother picking up your empty items from the night before, and you hadn't showered in two days, and you were a complete mess. You weren't expecting him to ever come back, and if he did, it would be when you weren't home to get his things. You didn't understand you only wanted to spend the rest of your life with this man meant the world to you maybe, that wasn't what he wanted.

Pulling up to the house, he turned off the truck and got out, grabbing the gift bag in the passenger seat. Sy tries to quietly head inside the house. The lights were off, but he could see that you were still home. The shadow of your hand was under the couch as he made his way inside. He walked softly after he undid his boots, leaving them at the door.

As he made his way into the living room, he noticed the empty bottle, the day-old wine glass, the barren Ben & Jerry's, and piles of tissues. Shaking his head, he beat himself up. He quietly made his way up the stairs and started the bath. Putting your favorite bath bomb in the water and some bubble bath, the bathroom started to smell like lavender and cedar. Admittingly, he loved those damn bath bombs. Lighting the candles and setting various things out for you that had come out of the gift bag, he placed the gift bag on the toilet. There were two extra things in there.

After turning the lights off and turning off the water, he made his way downstairs. Looking at you, he let out a small breath.

"Baby, wake up." He spoke softly, lifting your head to sit on the couch.

You look up the feeling of being moved and jolt awake. Looking up at Sy, you begin to cry all over again and wrap yourself around him. You hated how this all went, and you hated yourself.

"Baby, don't cry. It's okay. I'm sorry. You didn't do anything wrong. I shouldn't have left the way I did. I don't know what I was thinking. I've got something for you." He doesn't say anymore. He picks you up and carries you up the stairs. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury yourself into him.

When he opens the bathroom door, you look at everything he had done. You start crying more. It was beautiful, and it was thoughtful, and it was adorable. Looking back at him after he set you down, you wrap your arms around his torso and bury your face into his chest.

"I was so afraid you weren't coming home." you mumble into his chest.

"I'd be stupid not to." He tells you with a finger under your chin to look up at him. Sy leans down and kisses you softly. You deepen the kiss and grip at his shirt. His heavy hands move under your shirt and caress the small of your back. He looks down at you. "How about I help you get those clothes off, and I help you into the bath?" He smiles.

Nodding your head, he slips your shirt off and slowly pulls off your shorts, and looks at you smiling. "I could look at you for days." He smirks. Your hands move to undo his pants, he stops you. "Let me take care of you." He smiles a bit. Biting your lip, you nod slowly as he lifts you and places you into a bath of perfect water temperature.

You sit there and look at him. He grabs the loofa and your favorite body wash and washes you. Taking his time and not missing an inch of you, he takes a cup that you use for your baths and rinses off the soap. With the same cup, he pours some water on your head and starts slowly washing your hair. Looking down at you, he watches you slowly cry, and that's when he had enough. Rinsing your hair out, he stands up, strips down, and gets into the bathtub with you, not thinking about the water overflowing.

He wraps his arms around you and holds you close. "It's okay. Baby, I'm sorry. I am so sorry." He repeats as he kisses your wet head.

"It's not that. I was so afraid, Sy. I was horrified you wouldn't come home. I... I don't know what I would have done." You sob softly with your face in your hands.

"It's okay. It's okay. I understand. I was an asshole, I didn't think. I was late for work, there was no communication, and I just... Baby, I'm sorry." He repeats.

Leaning in, he kisses your neck. Sniffling you, bite your lip, and your breath jagged.

"Let me show you that I would never leave you. Let me make this up to you." He whispers into your ear. All you can do is nod slowly.

Holding his hands in yours a moment before he moves his hands down your stomach to your hips and lifts you onto his lap, before standing you up, he takes a towel and wraps it around you before standing up himself and carries you to the bedroom, leaving behind wet footprints.

He places you on the bed, and hovers over you, and unwraps the towel. Looking over you, he licks his bottom lip and leans in, and kisses you softly, but with such a need behind the action. He kisses your neck and your collarbones. Taking a breast in one hand and taking your nipple into his mouth, he suckles a bit while gently squeezing the other breast.

Slowly he works his way down and looks up at you as he kisses your hips and then hovers, his breath warm against your now swollen and sensitive bud. Kissing you between the legs, he spreads your legs, lifting them over his shoulders, his strong arms wrap around your legs as he sucks softly on your clit. Your breathing hikes and shakes as you grip the towel at your sides.

His eyes gaze up at you. His blue eyes watch as you react to his gesture. He begins to gently move his fingers to spread your lower lips and licks your now wet core, tasting you. Sy lets off a small groan against your body which only causes you to moan a soft moan. He becomes more hungry in his actions as his tongue works its magic against your pussy, driving your senses into overdrive. He moves back up to pay attention to your clit as his hands grip at your legs, his fingers digging into your fleshy legs.

As his tongue swirls around your clit, your legs press against his head, but he pulls them back. Your hips move against his mouth as he groans again, only causing you to moan louder. Your hands move to his head, placing them on the top of his shaved head as he groans again and moves faster. Growing in his own excitement, he grinds his hips against the bed triggering him to get stiffer. The friction and sensation to himself as he pleased you, he needed you.

"Oh Sy." You moan softly. He picks up speed causing your legs to shake and your hips to buckle.

Biting you softly, you buckle again. Sy takes your thigh into his mouth, biting your leg leaving little hickies, almost like marking what's his. You moan again as he works his way back up to your lips, kissing you with such need he pushes himself into you, your back arches, your breath hitches, and your hands grip at his back, your nails digging into his skin. Your legs wrap around him as he slowly starts to thrust into you.

As you moan, he moans as he thrusts your hips move to meet his. Your bodies close and heated at this moment. Your hands slide down his strong arms, and he intertwines your fingers holding them above your head as he thrusts deeper into you. The more he keeps up with this pace, your back arches into him as you kiss him with such a fiery passion. Your heels dig into his ass as if helping him thrust deeper into you.

"You're so wet, so tight, you feel so good." He whispers against your lips.

"I love how you fill me." you whisper back. "You know just how I like it."

"I love you, Y/N." He moans into your mouth as he kisses you deeply.

Thrusting harder and a little faster, picking up the speed, you moan into his mouth, causing him to go into overdrive. His thrusts pick up, his grunts paced, your breathing is a steady pant mixed with moans. The sounds of your body colliding fill the room. As he starts to pound into you, your hips rise, and you dig your nails into his back, scraping.

"FUCK!" You moan loudly.

"Cum for me, Baby." He tells you.

"Don't pull out." you tell him.

"Beg for it." He snarls, now a primal beast.

"Cum in me, Sy. Please. Don't pull out." you moan as both of you climax at the same time. Your body shakes, your pussy quivers your floor muscles pulsating and massaging his cock as if pulling every last drop in.

"Fuck." He moans softly against your ear. "That was amazing." He chuckles.

You look over his face and smile softly. "I love you. More than you will ever understand." You whisper.

He kisses you softly and slowly pulls out, causing you both to moan softly as he falls next to you. Turning on your side, you cuddle up to him, your fingernails raking over his chest. His hand moves along your back, his fingers against your spine.

"Happy anniversary... I'm sorry I forgot." He smiles softly.

"That's okay. How about I order us some pizza, we can have the bottle you brought, I can bring out your whiskey, and we can have a night of... well... this." You chuckle.

"That sounds perfect." He smiles, holding you close.

Cpt. Syverson Taglist: @1960memories

[parkers-gal]

yay! okay so I was thinking, what I'd the reader and Tom had a fight, could be over anything, but the reader was pregnant and a few years after, they bump into each other and they get back together. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

this has been sitting in my inbox for a fat couple of months… sorry 😭

wc: 1.7k ! <3

—

“No, because you’re selfish and you can’t handle the fact that my life doesn’t revolve around you and your needs.” Tom spits out the words angrily, viciously, voice harsh and crisp.

You’re both frustrated beyond belief, and the bubble that had been overblown had finally popped, splattering your relationship and all the joyful aspects of it. Right now, you felt as if all that was left was the toxicity of two unbearable people who happened to love each other. You knew, deep down, that you loved each other enough to get through this, but with every passing moment, with every exchanged word, you realized at least one of you wouldn’t survive the damage.

“No, Tom. You’re selfish. You’re conceited and you only care about being a goddamn movie star. What happened to the family man, huh? What happened to staying tied down with me and your brothers?”

“Nothing happened to him! I’m still that person. I am a family guy.”

“Not to me, you aren't.”

“Well you’re not family!” He seethes through his teeth, anger radiating off of his short-tempered demeanor. You don’t even know how to react, so you spend the time soaking in the situation and how you should respond instead of actually doing it.

“You’re a fucking jackass. I asked when I could spend time with you and now you don’t even consider me as part of the family.”

“No,” He’s clear and concise even through the anger. “You asked when I’m going to stop living my life.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You didn’t have to! We both know that’s what you meant.”

“You’re not even on the same page as me anymore,” You scoff, arms crossing. “Seems like all this time in Hollywood made you forget that you’re not always the main character.”

“Fuck that, Y/N! Fuck! That!”

“No, Tom. Fuck. You.” You over-express your emotions, and after two more minutes of unbearable silence and screaming, he’s leaving your apartment just as fast as he arrived. You’re in shock, fingers shaking while you clear your throat, which is frayed and sore from all the yelling.

You sit back, elbows on your knees while your hands smoothen out your forehead. Tear after tear escapes your sobbing body, and eventually, you fall asleep on the couch.

In the weeks to come, you’ve realized the blow-out of a breakup could’ve been handled so much differently, but Tom hasn’t seemed to cool down at all — he’s petty enough to unfollow you on all social media, and you figure it’s time to let the hatred be mutual. You don’t touch your imessages, however, letting the love in those texts linger for a little longer.

Before you know it, you’re throwing up into the toilet boil, coughing violently at the action and spitting the bitter taste as best you can. You clean up, and when you check your phone, a small notification from your period tracker app alerts you that this is the second period in a row that has gone by without a hello.

Worried, you call Aisha, your closest friend and confidant. She’s over in no time, bringing along her girlfriend while you rant on the phone about your worries. They stop at the drugstore on the way.

The cause of your problems is discovered that day, and you collapse on the bathroom floor in agony, hands wiping at your face — through all the anger and fear and worry, you still love Tom. So much that Aisha even attempts to call Tom. But, alas, it’s sent straight to voicemail, and you realize he might’ve gone to extreme extents in blocking everyone.

You’re stuck going to the ultrasound with two lesbians and a frail old cat. Aisha is as supportive as ever, but as the doctor explains the process of each option, you feel sicker and sicker about the idea of getting rid of the fetus. In the end, you choose to keep the child you’re bearing, even if your ex-lover isn’t even in the picture.

Inevitably, the months pass, and as baby Charlie is brought into the wonderful world, you realize life as a single mother isn’t as scary as you thought it would be. In the first few months of your pregnancy, you’d kept tabs on what film Tom was doing and which was coming out next, but after the hormones and cravings, you’d decided to let the past sizzle and fade out in the way it was meant to all along.

It’s been almost three years since that fateful breakup, and Charlie is just reaching two and a half years old. You’re still single, and you’re okay with that. Charlie is all you need, all you’ve ever wanted, and the most important thing in your life. He’s young, and school is still a couple years away, but you enjoy having the toddler by your side, walking hand in hand with you because you’re his guardian, his provider, his only parent. You make him your only priority, because you don’t want him to grow up without anyone to love, or anyone to love him.

It’s hard, though. It’s hard because he’s a constant reminder of what didn’t happen, a constant reminder of what went wrong and of what you no longer have. You miss Tom more than words can express, and Charlie’s mop of brown curls reminds you of all the moments you’d run your fingers through Tom’s hair. You reminisce more than you’d like to, about Tom and your past, and though Charlie is technically half of the Brit, he’s one hundred percent yours. Because you’re the only one here, and that’s alright.

“Mummy,” Charlie tugs on your shirt’s hem while you move the shopping cart forward through the aisle. “Can we get the goldfish with superheroes?”

You jutt your lip out in a smile, nodding happily. “Of course we can, bub.”

As you step forward, you pit stop in the aisle, nearly tripping on the cart. You make direct eye contact with the man you used to love with your entire heart. The man who walked out with your heart and never gave it back. He’s staring right back at you, curls looking as fluffy as ever, face still a soft glow. Your breath hitches, and it’s then that you realize Charlie is still talking.

“Mummy?” He asks, and it’s just loud enough for Tom to hear. Harry, who’s beside Tom with an arm full of crackers and chips. Tom moves forward a few steps, hastily in an attempt to get more information.

“Uh, hi,” His smile is tight lipped as he stands at the other end of your shopping cart. Charlie shies away from strangers, standing behind your leg and holding your shirt with his grubby hands.

“Hi,” you return his awkward, reserved demeanor.

“Mummy who’s this?”

“‘Mummy?’” Tom has a follow up question for everything, and you internally panic, unsure on how to approach this.

You’d spent so long deciding how you should tell Tom that he was a dad. You spent hours debating on if you should pick up the phone or drive over just to tell him a truth you’ve kept inside for so long. You’ve abandoned social media, only sharing aspects of your life you can afford to post. Charlie is only occasionally on your page, but it’s not like Tom would see that, not after all that’s happened.

Your mouth opens and closes while you debate on how to reply. You’re physically incapable of saying your response, and it makes you even more nervous. You’re nervous on how he might react, what he’ll say, but most importantly, if he’ll stay.

“Is this…?

“My kid…” You fill in. “I- I mean our… our kid.” You pull your bottom lip between your rows of teeth, and you watch as Tom’s face undergoes thousands of expressions all at once. He’s surprised, shocked, happy, afraid, uncertain. You want the world to swallow you whole, suck you up so you don’t have to go through any of this again. But you don’t. Instead, you hold Charlie’s hand a little tighter.

“Our kid?” He drops a can of soup and you flinch at the loud noise.

“Mummy, who’s that?”

“That’s…” You don’t know how to answer his question. Instead, you lean down to his level, comfortingly and gently. “He’s a man.”

“Who’s that man?”

“He’s… your daddy.”

“I thought… no daddy?”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows. Tom’s watching the entire encounter from his place, but after a few beats, he steps forward, entering your bubble. Charlie doesn’t cower away this time, but looks up in curiosity.

“Hi, Charlie,” Tom extends his hand, adjusting his jeans so he can lean down just as you are, kneeling beside the young boy.

You look down, avoiding your worries and Tom’s gaze. He’s tearing up, and you want to cry too. You’re in a fucking supermarket, for god’s sake. This wasn’t how you envisioned any of this planning out, and though you’re mentally kicking yourself for letting it happen this way, you can’t help but feel like maybe this was meant to be. Written in the stars or whatever the folks say — you’re just grateful Charlie has at least a sliver of hope for two parents. Not that you can’t handle it, because you can, but you know someone like Tom wouldn’t want to miss something as important as this.

“I’m To- I’m…” He swallows thickly, making brief eye contact with you before looking back at Charlie. “I’m your dad.”

“Do you love my mummy?” He’s not shameless, but he’s still that shy little boy. “My friend says daddy’s love mommy’s so you must love mine, right?”

Tom lets a tear fall while he exhales a chuckle. He swipes the drop with the tips of his fingers, and the hand gripping Charlie’s squeezes it a little tighter. A glance in your direction is all it takes for him to answer Charlie’s question. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”

want more? my masterlist.

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[kingsuckjin]

Season of the Witch- TEASER

☾ Pairing: love triangle Taehyung x jimin x reader

☾ Genre: yandere, smut, horror, thriller

☾ Rating: 18+

☾ Warnings: STALKER SHIT, Tae is insane and has really dark and obsessive thoughts about Jimin, there’s some sexy stuff in here too, hints towards make oral sex and just sex, violent themes I guess and hits of murder.

☾ Summary: all Taehyung ever wanted was Jimin, and he had always done whatever it took to stop whatever or whoever got in his way, you were going to be no different. Surely Jimin didn’t love you as much as Taehyung loved him… right?

"So," Jimin sucked in a deep breath from across the table of the diner and nervously adjusted in his seat before looking across the table at his best friend. He wondered why he was so nervous, why he was dragging this out, why he thought Taehyung wouldn't understand.

"So, you brought me here to talk about something?" Taehyung cleared his voice, doing his best to try to hide his own nervousness and butterflies mixing in his stomach as he played with a little pink packet of sugar on the table.

"Since you're my best friend and I want you to know what's going on in my life..." Jimin's eyes flickered to his melting vanilla milkshake he no longer cared about. He felt like he needed to look at anything but Taehyung, just in case he had the same reaction as last time, although that was years ago when… Jimin refused to let his mind go back to it.

Taehyung bit at his lip and put down the sugar packet he had been playing with upon hearing Jimin's words. He looked down at the little chipped places in the diner table, chipped at by time itself. He knew now what was coming, and it wasn’t what he had wanted to hear… it wasn't going to be anything close to "I love you". He braced himself for the impact, heart ready to shatter into his ribcage and start sobbing in front of Jimin.

"I've- I've met this girl…" Jimin floundered at first, but the rest just slipped out of his mouth naturally as if he had been born to say these words "she's the one, Tae."

Jimin's sentence had come out in slow motion for Taehyung, as if the world wanted to drag this out just to hurt him more. Although Taehyung knew it had been coming seeing as Jimin had been quite distant recently, just like before, it still left Taehyung swallowing down the pain. A sad whimper too high and soft to be his own partially escaped his throat before Taehyung caught it, cut it off, and drowned it out by clearing his throat. He could feel how wide his eyes were, he felt his pulse quicken and blood heat to an uncomfortable level under his skin. He wanted to crawl out of his own outter flesh and slink away unnoticed by the man sitting across from him. He didn't know what to do, but he had to say something, so said the only thing he could think to say.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." Jimin confirmed with a nod "you- you aren't going to say what you said last time?" Jimin furrowed his brows with worry.

Taehyung had been through so much with Jimin last time he had uttered these words to him. Jimin should've known better than to go and do this again, Taehyung shouldn't have to warn him again, Jimin should be scared, he should be too scarred to do this to Taehyung again. But would Taehyung say all of this to his friend? No. Warning him of the future heartbreak didn't work last time, it only made Jimin push Tae away and he wasn't about to make that mistake again… he didn't have to, this time around he was prepared, it would be easier now.

"Of course not." Taehyung sat up straighter in the diner booth and watched Jimin's surprised reaction. "It was wrong of me to say all of that last time, especially after what happened."

Jimin's face fell into a pout for a moment as he remembered but pushed it out of his mind. It still hurt him, but now at least he had you.

"You deserve to be happy and you deserve someone." Taehyung forced the best smile he could as he wished that someone was him. He had always wished that someone was him, ever since the both of them had been in high school. Taehyung said a silent prayer every night that one day Jimin would just come to his senses. Taehyung's mind drifted away to the time where he thought Jimin was almost his, the night it was so close he could taste it, he did taste it, he could still taste Jimin's sticky smooth peach schnapps flavored lips and tongue on his.

"-she's such a good dancer too. I can't wait for you to meet her." Taehyung had only caught the tail end of Jimin's rambling. Jimin's smile and enthusiasm when talking about someone that wasn’t him made that warmth in his veins turn into a fire in his stomach, Taehyung was angry. The muscles in hands clenched to try to hold himself together. His hands had felt so tight that they ripped the packet of sugar he had open that he hadn’t realized he had picked back up off the table.

Taehyung looked down at the little pile of sparkling sugar on the table that Jimin ignored as he went for a drink of his milkshake. He watched as his friend's lips wrap around the straw and thought about how perfect they would look and feel if they were wrapped around his-

Taehyung let his eyes fall back to the sugar on the table but that was no help either. He now thought about Jimin's lips coated in the tiny crystals, kissing him, tasting sweeter than the night they almost- Taehyung was sure he'd have a breakdown right here in this diner if he didn’t stop thinking about that night.

"How's the art stuff coming along?" Jimin decided to ask, he hadn't heard Taehyung talk about painting in a while now. He knew it had been Tae's favorite hobby since they were teenagaers, and he was good at it too.

Art stuff. Taehyung knew he didn't care about it, he didn’t even pretend to. Jimin didn't come to the first and last art show his paintings had been featured in. It was a disappointing blow to Taehyung, so disappointing that he gave it up.

"Yeah, I've been exploring other hobbies lately and haven't had time for it. Work and stuff too has been keeping me busy." It wasn't a lie, it was the truth, however Tae wasn't about to start naming his new "hobbies" Thankfully he didn't have too, Jimin's phone went off.

"Oh! Oh man, It doesn't feel like we were here that long does it? I've got to be at the dance studio in fifteen minutes." Jimin couldn’t help but smile as he said it, anytime he mentioned or thought of the dance studio at all now he couldn’t help but smile.

Jimin quickly held his hand up to flag down a waitress but Taehyung stopped him.

"I've got it, you're in a rush." Taehyung urged.

"Are you sure?" Jimin questioned "I'm the only one who ordered anyt-"

"It was just a milkshake. Just head out." Taehyung urged once again, forcing a boxy smile.

Jimin thanked his best friend with a cheerful crescent moon eyed smile that Taehyung would die to see everyday.

Once Jimin had left Taehyung grabbed a napkin from the napkin holder and in the blink of an eye, had stolen the straw from Jimin's half finished milkshake. Under the table, he wiped the excess milkshake from the straw, careful not to touch the end Jimin had put his lips on, and tucked it into his small bag he had brought along with him before flagging down a waitress and paying the bill.

Once Taehyung had gotten out to his car, what Jimin had told him began to catch up with him and really sink in past his bones and into his soul.

Jimin now had a girlfriend.

"Fuck." Taehyung muttered to himself and let his head fall onto the steering wheel. Was this it? Was it all too late? Taehyung should’ve been faster about making Jimin love him.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK!" He let out as he slammed his head against the wheel a couple of times, anger and disappointment radiated through his body.

This wasn't supposed to happen, it wasn't supposed to be like this ever again. Taehyung thought he had taught Jimin a lesson, that lesson being he shouldn't love anyone but him.

Taehyung was protecting Jimin. He was protecting him from his own self, not just from the heartbreak. He knew Jimin's heart was filled with warmth and love that he wanted to share, but why couldn't he just share it with Taehyung? Taehyung, the best friend who was always there for him. Taehyung, the man who strived to be everything Jimin wanted. Taehyung, who would, has and will kill for the man he loves.

Taehyung didn't know what you looked like yet, but he imagined the satisfaction of taking you down just like the girl before you.

He felt a smile grow and spread across his face.

He knew shouldn't be worried, it would be easier this time now that he's getting the hang of this black magic thing. It could be as easy as stomping an ant.

A laugh sounded throughout the quiet car and only grew louder and heavier the more he thought about your death.

Taehyung knew that in the end all you were would be another lesson, another reason for Jimin to never get close to anyone ever again, only him. It would always only be Taehyung, and he figured Jimin would have to learn that eventually.

[teebarnes]

✨ | A Bad Day

Click [100 Followers Fic] for the rest of the 100 follower fics :)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

Summary: You had a bad day at work and Bucky knows that, so takes this chance to brighten your bad day.

Word Count: 2k

Warning(s): Fluff, crying... I think that's about it.

A/N: Thank you for 100 followers! Plus, I mean, who wouldn't want Bucky to comfort them after a bad day? (GIF isn't mine)

⤑ Click here for my taglist to be notified when I post my future fics.

Any Likes, Comments & Reblogs are super duper appreciated :))

Locking the door behind you, you lean yourself against your door, sliding to the floor. Tears flowing down your face, you pike your knees up you to the chest, wrapping your arms around them. It was another one of those awful days at work, your face hidden in the nook you made. You slowly sobbed to yourself, trying to express the bad day you had quietly into your house as if it could listen.

The quietness of your rural home thickened the sound of your tears; you sigh deeply into your knees, attempting to catch the breath you longed for. Then, calming yourself, you wipe the tears with the end of your jumper before hearing your phone ring. A few sniffs holding the fact you were crying, you check your phone to see it was your best friend calling.

"Yellop", you softly chime to your best friend on the end of the other line. You can hear an audible laugh. "Yellop doll, how was your day?" The voice you always long to hear at the end of your days. "U-usual", you softly chocked out before continuing ", how about you, old man? How was your day?" You giggle slightly at your remark.

A long pause extended your conversation with him before he broke the silence with a soft laugh through his nose, "usual, same since we last spoke", you smile, getting up, taking the conversation to your couch. Hearing his voice had taken away any sadness you had before you even picked up the phone. "Hey, I'm coming over. I need your help," he says, which piques your interest.

"What does a 107-year-old man need my help for? I'm sure you have all the life experience you need," you joked; Bucky gasps ", ouch, my feelings… they're hurting because of you", he laughs, causing the two of you to roll your eyes at each end of the line. "May I ask what you need help with?" You sat up from the couch, eagerly waiting for his reply.

A steady silence homed their conversation for a few seconds "a date y/n… there is this beautiful woman I want to ask on a date." He sighs.

Your face drops slightly, tears rushing down your face again like the ones before. Quickly wiping the tears, you answer, so Bucky doesn't worry "a date, huh? Since when do you socialise" you half-laughed to yourself sadly. "well… doll. You see, I don't if I'm honest," you both laugh, waiting for him to continue. "But… she is amazing, beautiful, the most incredible person I've met", he boasts to you over the phone.

You couldn't help but wallow in your thoughts for a bit, wishing that it were you he was talking about. But you knew that you two were just made to be the best of friends; despite how you felt towards him, you knew he could never feel the same. It took you a while to collect yourself when Bucky spoke again, breaking your train of thought. "Doll?" Your eyes focus again on your surroundings, coming back to the reality that you wanted to run away from right then and there. "Doll, are you there?" He asks again; you clear your throat "yes! yes… sorry, yes I am." You coughed.

"I am happy for you, Buck! She will be so lucky to have you." You stand up from the couch walking into your kitchen. "I am the lucky one, actually…" he replies softly. You smile at his reply only to realise the context of the conversation before answering back to him, "Well… are you sure you need my help? I feel you have all of that covered. I don't think I could be of much help to you, Buck." You held the phone between your shoulder and your ear as you opened the fridge up to check what was for dinner tonight. "I most certainly do doll. You are a vital part to getting this right," he excitedly says; you could never turn him down.

Even after being his friend for over ten years, you still couldn't say no to him. "Geez, Bucky, you really are serious… I'll have you know, though. I haven't had a boyfriend since I met you, so I'll only be able to give you basic pointers," you laugh to yourself. "Doll, don't worry about it… as long as you're there, that's all I need." He swoons. You couldn't help but laugh, "see, buck, with that attitude, I think she will say yes." You lightly say, "plus, have you asked Steve? I'm sure he has better advice to give," you question. "Yeah, I did… no help there", he laughs.

"Okey dokes, well I'm going to take my shower n stuff… you've got a key so you can let yourself in, alright?" You say, continuing to push through the built-up tears and emotions that halted at your throat. "Okay, doll! See you shortly," he says "see ya, Buck" you smile, hanging up.

Not knowing it, but your world fell before you; you didn't want to lose Bucky to a woman he hasn't even told you about. Then again, you cared for his happiness, that is what he needed after all the trauma he had been put through. You shook off the tears sucking up the pain into your stomach, heading to take a shower.

~

Bucky’s POV

"How do I tell her, Steve?" Bucky groans, pacing around the living room, "I love her so goddam much, but I am afraid to lose her. What if she doesn't like me and only sees me as a friend-"Bucky is cut off by Nat, who is sitting on the other side of the couch reading a book. "Bucky, I am going to slap some sense into you soon. She is head over heels for you." She sighs, getting up to leave the room. Bucky continues to pace again, with Steve closely watching.

"Ask her on a date Buck. Go from there," Steve lightly says, leaning back into his seat. "Hey doll, I know we've been best friends for ten years now, but I just wanted to let you know that I've fallen in love with you since the day we met", he frustrates into the palm of his hands. Steve chuckles a bit, "sounds about right", he snorts. Bucky wide-eyed to his oldest friend. "Ahaha, so funn-" he is cut off with a buzzing in his left pocket.

Reaching in, he picks it up "oh, it's just Sam" he rolls his eyes, answering, "what's up, Sam?" Sam sighs "have you talked to y/n recently?" He asks, which immediately makes Bucky furrow his eyebrows "no, why? Has something happened?" A pause before Sam speaks, "Can you check on her, please. She had a rough day at work. I have a feeling she is not at her best at the moment." Bucky's eyes dull hearing that the woman he's in love with is sad "okay, on it. Thanks for letting me know, Sam", he let out a sigh. "I've given her the week off, but please check." He sternly asks. "You have my word Sam" Bucky hangs up, turning to Steve.

"She had a bad day at work…" he frowns before plopping himself on the couch. "Well, buck, this may be a good opportunity to take her out on a date? Or even have a sneaky film night?" He stands up, patting his friend's shoulder. Bucky gives a slight grin, nodding, "Thanks, pal".

Steve walks out of the room, leaving Bucky alone with his thoughts, "okay okay okay, I can do this, I can do this." He hypes himself up, taking his phone pressing your contact that he had on speed dial.

"Yellop" Bucky hears on the other end of the phone; he couldn't help but melt to the sweetness of your voice. It was one he loved so much. It wasn't unusual to call each other; it was a religious routine for the both of you. If one didn't call, the other would. But this time, it was different; Bucky was nervous; it has taken him ten years to work up the courage to ask you out. But he still couldn't, not without seeing your face, not without being able to hold you as he said he loved you and not without comforting you first. He knew you didn't want to burden him with your troubles, so he took it upon himself to make up an excuse just to see you.

After the call, Bucky knew that you'd been hiding your emotions just to have your usual conversation with him. He felt even guiltier when he went on and on about you but never had the guts to tell you that he was talking about you.

Bucky packed a night bag from his room, packing it onto his motorbike before making his way to the local supermarket that was on the way to your house.

He picked up some of your favourite snacks and a bunch of your favourite flowers, securing them on his bike before riding to your house. Then, turning his bike off, he left it parked in your garage, heading inside. He closed the door behind him, walking into the kitchen laying the snacks on the table before heading down the hall into your room. He could hear the shower running and knew you were still in there.

He could hear you singing a soft melody of your favourite song; Bucky smiled, took his shoes off, and set them at the door in the hallway. Bucky flopped onto your soft bed with the flowers he had for you hidden on the bedside away from the bathroom door so you wouldn't be able to see them when you'd come out.

Finishing your shower a few minutes later, you wrapped your hair in a towel. Drying yourself and popping on your oversized henley, the same one Bucky had given you all those years ago when you had nothing to wear the first time you slept at his. You put some undies on and Van's socks. Using the dryer to dry your hair, you fitted your thick hair into a messy bun with your black scrunchy. "Alright", you took a deep breath before heading out to see Bucky lying on your bed.

"Oh, Buck! Hey," you smiled at him. His head was comfy on the bedsheets; he turned to see you, a bright smile upon his face. "Hey, doll," he noticed straight away that you weren't wearing any pants, something he was used to but not used to at the same time. You'd always make a fuss over going to bed with pants on; you hated wearing pants to bed. So you just opted for socks. "So", you sigh, flopping on the bed next to him. "Who is the girl?" You asked, turning your body to the side facing him. He chuckled, rolling over the edge of the bed, coming back to meet you, your favourite flowers in his hand; you both were face to face.

"You"…

~

You look at him, jerking your face back a bit in surprise but totally melting seeing the flowers. "M-me?" You reply; Bucky smiles, brushing the hair from your face nodding, "It's always been you y/n." His arm caressed your cheek, and you couldn't help but rest yours on his. You kissed the inner of his hand before taking the flowers leaving them on the bedside table.

"You know how long I've wanted to tell you that I love you" you smiled almost in tears; wrapping his metal arm around your waist, Bucky pulled your body close to his "And you know how long I've wanted to say the exact same thing" he rested his head against yours "I am in love with you y/n, I've loved you ever since I met you". You sniffled, cupping his cheek before leaning in, kissing his chapped lips; he leaned into him, kissing back "and just when I thought I was going to have to let you go, you prove me wrong," you chuckled through your tears.

He chuckles with you. "I couldn't tell you on the phone. I had to be here. Plus, Sam told me you had a bad day, so I wanted to be with you." You smiled, giving him the biggest hug. "Thank you, Buck. Thank you for doing this" he kissed the top of your head.

"You're welcome, love", he smiled.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sebastian Stan's Taglist: @buckyswintersoldiermask @lharrietg @buckyfan12 @afraid-to-be-me @fairityretro

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Ah that suck that all the request got deleted this is strange, hope it doesn't happen in the future, hope that didn't unorganised you too much. I guess I'll just send the request that did: Could you do a fluff scenario with LJ trying to comfort his s/o that wake's up sobbing from a really bad nightmare? Possibly a bad memory? If it's too much of a hassle, an HC is fine to! ^^

I have been feeling under the weather the last few days so I went with headcanons, but I tried to make them long for you

Jack, being the supernatural being that he is, doesn't really need sleep, meaning that while sleep is nice, there are a lot of nights spent with him awake, especially since Jack himself is no stranger to nightmares. Sometimes he'll just lay there next to you, and sometimes he'll get up and sit at his work desk, tinkering away on some new things to keep himself busy, but either way, he stays in your general area.

On this particular night, he was snuggled up next to you in bed, your back to his chest as he engulfed you in a nice, comforting embrace, simply lost in his thoughts. However, he was drawn back into reality as you began to seem more distressed in your dreams. It started with you clenching the sheets in your fists, and then your breathing began to pick up, and the little snores you'd occasionally let out had turned to choked whimpers. Jack didn't want to wake you, not wanting to scare you or make things worse, so he merely sat next to you, watching you in concern and stroking your back comfortingly.

When you do finally wake up, body shooting up and tears streaming down, he's right there next to you to comfort you, seating you in his lap and cradling you within his arms. He allows you to cry out the fear, whispering hushed words of comfort and love, pressing soothing kisses to you, nuzzling into you, and doing his best to help calm you down. Jack will never press to know what your dreams were about, considering he's rarely even comfortable talking about his own, but if you ever wish to tell him and talk it out, he will wholeheartedly listen to you, comforting you and easing your anxieties.

When you're calmed enough, he'll venture downstairs and whip up some of his world-famous hot chocolate for you, with extra, EXTRA whipped cream, and get you a nice little snack. He'll place you back into his lap when he returns upstairs, allowing you to relax even more with the sweet treats. If you want to talk with him, he'll distract you with some stories of his life before the mansion, some of the happier ones at least, or if you want to sit in silence, he's fine with that too. Soon, you'll be drifting back to sleep from the warmth of his form, and he'll make sure to cuddle you in your sleep as well. Jack cares so, so deeply for you, and whenever you're in pain he's in pain, and so to ease your sorrows, he'll do whatever you need so he can see that gorgeous smile again.

[allthingsfangirl101]

A Change of Heart Part 2–Matt Brody

Part 1

Wattpad request by psych0bxtch

Matt's POV

When I heard the flatline, my stomach dropped. The only thing I could hear other than the worst sound in the world was Summer sobbing violently as Mitch tried to keep her from collapsing to the floor.

"No," she kept sobbing. "She can't be. . . Please tell me she isn't. . . Mitch. . . She's my baby sister. . . Please."

"Keep trying," I said under my breath when I finally found my voice. Everyone looked at me as I cleared my throat and took a step towards the ambulance.

"Keep trying," I said louder as they slowly started to unhook Y/N's lifeless body from their machines. "You can't give up on her. She's. . . We need her."

I ignored Summer's questioning look and instead, my eyes glanced towards Y/N. Suddenly, my view of Y/N in the back of an ambulance changed to the last time we were alone together in the South Lifeguard Tower. I couldn't decide if I was more haunted by her laying there unmoving or the look in her eyes when I rejected her.

"I need her," I mumbled. I glanced over at Summer to see her tears slowly stopping.

"Matt?" She said under her breath.

We broke our eye contact when we heard them charging the defibrillator. I held my breath as we all waited to hear the heart monitor start beeping. As we impatiently waited, Summer walked over to me, but I didn't look away from the EMTs working on Y/N.

"What did you mean when you said you need her?" She asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Be very careful with your next words, Matt."

"I can't imagine my life without her," I blurted out. I kept my eyes on Y/N and the EMTs as I continued, "I hate that us almost losing her is what made me realize it."

"No," Summer cut me off, making me finally look at her. "You aren't doing this. Y/N is an amazing girl and you broke her. You broke her, Matt. She finally got the courage to tell you how she felt and you shot her down. Are you telling me that all this time. . . Or are you just suddenly realizing it because we might. . . No. My sister deserves better. Y/N deserves a guy who knows he wants to be with her. Not some Olympic Asshole who picks and chooses when he gets a girl."

I opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted when we heard a beautiful beep. You could hear us all sucking in a synced breath when we recognized the sound. We turned around and saw the EMTs letting out relieved sighs.

"She's back," an EMT said as he glanced over at us. "We got her back."

"Alert the surgical team at the nearest hospital," the other EMT started giving instructions. "We need to get her into surgery as soon as we get there."

The EMTs started talking indistinctly as they hooked her up to more machines. I jumped when they slammed the door shut and the ambulance sped off. I turned to say something to Summer but she was already jogging towards her car. CJ and Stephanie sent me matching glares before following Summer. Ronnie cleared his throat, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with me.

"We're going to the hospital," Mitch said with not even an ounce of emotion in his voice. "Want a ride?"

We rode to the hospital in silence. I watched the buildings zoom by, the anger in Summer's voice repeating over and over again. The glare she gave me sent chills down my spine just thinking about it.

She was right. Y/N is too good for me.

As we sat in the waiting room, I thought back to our conversation in the South Lifeguard Tower. The longer I thought about it, the more I realized I never shot her down. I didn't say anything to her. She assumed I didn't have feelings for her because I didn't say anything. I didn't say anything because I was too shocked.

I looked up and noticed Summer watching me with tears streaming down her face. She had numerous reasons to be pissed at me but the real reason was because of the conversation in the South Lifeguard Tower. I stood up, nervously wiping my hands on my shorts as I walked over to her.

"Don't," she said, her voice getting caught in her throat. "I don't care how guilty you feel about shooting my sister down. I have more important things to think about. Like how Y/N is fighting for her life on a surgery table right now."

"Summer," I stuttered. "Please just. . ."

"Stop!" She yelled, quickly standing up. "My sister is dying, Matt. I don't give a shit that you feel guilty for turning her down. You have no idea how much you hurt her."

"I didn't. . ." I stuttered.

"Of course not," she scoffed. "She took two weeks off from work. Want to know what she did during that time? She spent the entire two weeks crying her eyes out. She was embarrassed, defeated, humiliated, and felt like she couldn't face you. Here's the real kicker; she came back for you!"

"What do you mean?" I asked under my breath.

"You were losing it, Matt," she sighed. "We could all see it."

I looked behind her to see everyone else watching us with the same look on their faces. When I made eye contact with Mitch, he shook his head and looked around the waiting room.

"Summer," I said, my voice breaking as I turned back towards her.

"Enough," she said through her teeth. "Y/N doesn't deserve you, Matt Brody. She deserves better."

* * * * *

An hour later, we still hadn't heard anything from the doctors working to save Y/N's life. We sat in the waiting room of the ER, all of us on edge. Whenever someone walked through a door, we all jumped.

"For Ms. Y/N Quinn?"

We all jumped up, slightly surprising the doctor when he saw how many of us were there. He looked around, trying to figure out which one of us he needed to address first.

"I'm her sister," Summer said shakily as she took a step towards him. "Is she. . . Did she. . . Please tell me she's okay."

"Your sister is one hell of a fighter," the doctor smiled sweetly at her.

"She's okay?" Summer said with nothing but hope in her voice.

"For the most part," he said slowly.

"What does that mean?" Ronnie asked.

"Well," the doctor said, slightly clearing his throat. "As you know, they were able to restart her heart in the back of the ambulance but her vitals were too low when she got to the hospital. As we took her into an exam room, she stopped breathing again. After a few tests, we discovered that it wasn't just the drowning that almost killed her."

"What was it?" Summer asked, slightly taking a step closer to the doctor.

"A bullet."

My breath got stuck in my throat. I looked over at Summer to see her covering her mouth, trying to stop the sob.

"When the hell was she shot?" CJ asked under her breath.

"Underwater," Mitch mumbled to himself. We turned around to see him thinking about something.

"Mitch?" Summer said under her breath.

"Before I jumped in after her, I thought I heard something strange. If I hadn't hesitated. . . I'm so sorry, Summer. I heard the gunshot and that's what made me jump in after her. I should've done that sooner. I'm so sorry."

"This isn't your fault," she said gently. My heart dropped into my stomach when Summer glanced over at me.

"How is she?" Mitch asked.

"We got the bullet out," the doctor continued, "and stopped the bleeding, but she still lost a lot of blood during the surgery. I'm afraid she's slipped into a coma."

"When is she going to wake up?" Summer asked almost instantly.

"We can't be entirely sure," he sighed. "She could be asleep for a few more hours or a few more days. When a patient loses a lot of blood, their mind tends to shut off until that blood is reproduced. But I can assure you that we are doing everything we can to make her feel comfortable until she does. I can take you to see her, Ms. Quinn."

When the rest of us took a few steps closer to Summer and the doctor, he stopped us. "I'm sorry," he said, clearing his throat, "but only family can go into the ICU."

Even though we didn't like it, we sat back down. I intertwined my fingers, struggling to calm my nerves. The next few days were never-ending. While the others went home, I stayed sitting in the uncomfortable ER waiting room chair.

"Matt."

I jumped when I felt someone kick my foot. I looked up to see Mitch standing above me with his arms folded. He sighed as he slightly shook his head.

"Go home."

"I'm good," I said, clearing my throat.

"No, you're not," he sighed. "You haven't slept, you've barely eaten, and you look like shit. Not to mention that you reek."

"I'm not leaving," I said sleepily.

"Matt," he sighed again as he sat next to me. "I know you feel guilty for what happened to Y/N, but the boat fire had nothing to do with you. If anyone is to blame, it's me. I was the one who didn't jump in after her soon enough. I keep hearing that damn underwater gunshot. It replays in my mind and my dreams. This was my responsibility. All of your safety falls on me. I failed Y/N. And Summer."

I suddenly realized how much this has been weighing down on him. His shoulders were tense, his back was hunched, and his eyes were heavy.

"Mitch," I said, making him look at me, "Y/N wouldn't blame you for anything that's happened. You jumped in, you found her, you brought her back to the boat. You saved her, Mitch. All I did was break her heart."

"About that," Mitch said, clearing his throat to cover his laugh. "What the hell, man? She told you how she felt, you shut her down, then she gets hurt and that makes you suddenly have feelings for her?"

"First of all," I sighed, "I didn't shoot her down. I didn't respond right away and she took that as me not having feelings for her. Second, I didn't say anything about "suddenly" having feelings for her."

"Hold on," he said, more anger in his voice. "After all the shit that's gone down, you actually have feelings for her?"

When he looked at me, he saw my answer clearly written on my face. He scoffed as he looked away, slightly shaking his head. When he looked back at me, I felt like a kid about to get scolded by my father.

"Please tell me you realize how much of an asshole you are," he scoffed.

"Mitch," I stuttered.

"Y/N is an amazing girl. You'd be lucky to have someone like her interested in you. Honestly, you don't deserve her anymore. Hell, you didn't deserve her when she told you how she felt. And if you walk into that hospital room and confess to having feelings for her all along. . ."

He didn't finish his threat. Instead, he stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. He was about to walk away but stopped. He didn't bother to turn around as he spoke up.

"By the way," he said through his teeth, "She's awake."

I watched Mitch leave before slowly standing up. I made my way down the hallway, my nerves jumping all over the place the closer I got to her. I hesitated outside her room, continually wiping my sweaty hands on my pants. Whenever I reached for the door handle, I never made it all the way to it. As I tried to reach for the handle again, the door swung open.

"Matt," Summer gasped. She looked over her shoulder before quickly closing the door. "I don't think you should be here."

"Summer, please," I stuttered. "I just want to. . ."

"You've done enough."

* * * * *

After Summer stopped me from going into Y/N's room, I was even more determined to talk to her. I waited for Summer to leave before sneaking back down the hallway. I ducked into Y/N's room, my breath getting caught in my throat when I turned and saw Y/N asleep in the hospital bed.

I felt numb as I walked over and sat next to her. I hesitated to grab her hand because I didn't want to wake her up. Instead, I sat back in the uncomfortable chair and thought about the last conversation Y/N and I had.

~•~

"Your sister is looking for you," I said. I got concerned when I noticed her still facing away from me. I slowly walked over and grabbed the gauze that was frozen in her hand.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, not at all convincingly.

"Y/N," I elongated. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," she said again, sounding less convincing than before.

"I'm in love with you."

I heard her suck in a breath the same time I sucked in one of my own. My mind instantly started going 100 miles an hour.

She was in love with me? Since when? Does everyone know? How could I not know?

"What?" I asked under my breath for clarity. I wanted, no needed to make sure I heard her right.

"Never mind," she stuttered. My heart sank when she started to leave the shack.

"Y/N," I said, trying to get her to look at me. My shoulders slightly sank when she remained facing the door. "What did you say?"

"Just forget it," she said quickly.

Right as she was about to leave, I quickly grabbed her hand and slowly turned her towards me. I tried to get her to look up at me but she kept her stare to the ground.

"Y/N?" I whispered. "Did you mean it? Are you really. . ."

"Yes," she forced out. When she finally looked up at me, her eyes sank. My heart clenched when I saw her struggling to hold back embarrassed tears.

"Y/N," I stuttered, "I'm not. . . It's not that . . . I'm sorry."

She roughly pulled her hand out of mine and cleared her throat like she was trying to get rid of a lump.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Y/N," I sighed.

"It's fine," she said before I could get a chance to explain what was going through my head. It wasn't that I didn't have feelings for her. The truth was, I wasn't sure how I felt about Y/N Quinn.

"I should umm. . . You're taking over, right? You're on the next shift? Okay, I'm gonna go then. Bye, Matt."

"Y/N," I said, trying to get her to stay and hear me out. "Please let's. . ."

I physically jumped when the South Lifeguard tower door shut between us. I sat on one of the extra chairs, my mind not stopping. I ran my fingers through my hair as Y/N's defeated and embarrassed look on her face was stuck in my head.

"I don't know how I feel about you," I mumbled to myself. "But I know I don't want to lose you."

~•~

I've always felt this pull towards Y/N. I just thought it was friendship. That is until she told me how she felt for me. I looked over at her, the guilt suffocating me.

"You don't get it," I whispered, shaking my head and looking away from her. "You left before I could explain. I wasn't stuttering that I didn't have feelings for you. I was stuttering that I wasn't sure. I know that's not better but. . ."

"Matt?"

My head snapped up when I heard my name weakly said. I was met with Y/N's Y/E/C eyes. I smiled as I scooted closer to her.

"Hi," I whispered.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had to see you," I started to ramble. "Look, I know things have been weird between us and I hate it. I absolutely hate this tension between us, Y/N. When you were gone, those were the worst two weeks of my life. I was miserable. I wanted to call you but Summer kept telling me to leave you alone."

"She what?" She asked softly but I kept talking.

"And then when you came back? I didn't know what to do or say. Whatever I rehearsed, didn't seem good enough. Then the boat fire. . . You were underwater for four and a half minutes. Mitch gave you CPR for the whole five-minute boat ride back to shore. The EMTs took over for three minutes before they hooked you up to the defibrillator. One minute and forty-two seconds later, you flatlined. That was the longest minute and forty-two seconds of my life."

"Matt," she said weakly, trying to interrupt me again.

"When you told me how you felt," I continued, "I didn't respond but not because I didn't have a response for you. It was because I was evaluating."

"Evaluating," she repeated. "Matt, what does that mean? Evaluating what?"

"Us," I said before I could stop myself. "I mean evaluating who you are to me. We've been good friends since you started at Baywatch, but I've always thought our relationship was stronger than just a simple friendship. And it wasn't until you left those two weeks that I realized it was a lot deeper than a simple friendship."

"What are you trying to say?" She asked hesitantly.

"I'm saying I have feelings for you," I said quickly. I watched as her eyes widened. She was studying me hard, probably trying to decide if I was being honest with her.

To help reassure her, I continued. "Y/N, I'm not just saying I have feelings for you because I almost lost you. I'm saying it because I didn't realize how I felt for you. I had a general idea but I wasn't sure exactly. I know this doesn't make much sense, but it's the truth. I care about you, Y/N, a lot. I'm sorry it took almost losing you for me to wake up and realize that I've loved you all this time."

I held my breath, waiting for her reaction. When her eyes filled with tears, I couldn't tell if they were happy tears or angry tears. The silence ate away at me, almost as much as the guilt.

"Please say something," I whispered. My breath got caught in my throat when she slowly smiled.

"Come here," she whispered.

I scooted the chair closer to Y/N's bed and grabbed her hand. I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. The second our lips touched, we instantly started moving them in sync.

Every feeling I've felt since her confession intensified as we finally kissed. It was like everything we've been holding back, burst. Without breaking the kiss, I stood up and carefully crawled onto her bed until I was hovering over her. The kiss got heated as Y/N reached up, grabbed my shirt, and pulled me closer to her.

She moaned when I used the hand that wasn't holding me up to gently rub her hip. I smirked against her lips as I slowly slid that hand up her body. She gasped, breaking the kiss when I found and squeezed her boob. That surprised gasp turned into a painful one.

"Shit," I gasped, moving my weight off of her. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I should've. . . You've been shot and I. . . I'm sorry. For everything. I never should've. . ."

"Matt," she whispered, cutting me off as she reached up and gently cupped my cheek in her hand. "It's okay."

"No," I stuttered. "It's not okay, Y/N. None of it is. I want to make it up to you. I need to make it up to you."

"Then take me on a date," she said so simply.

"What?"

"Take me on a date," she repeated.

I smiled, feeling like a giddy idiot as I laid down next to her. I let out a satisfied sigh as she immediately cuddled into my chest.

"As soon as you get out of here," I whispered, "I'm taking you on that date."