#Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You Part 2

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 2[*]

Azriel x Third-Oldest-Archeron-Sibling!Reader

a/n: Really not sure about this one :/

warnings: fingering, angst

word count: 4,026

-Part 1- -Part 3-

Heart pounding in your chest. Words ringing in your ear.

If you were half the female Elain is, then maybe he’d show a little interest. But you’re not. You’re painfully separate, unable to crawl into her skin to live as her, to please him. Something sharp twists in your chest but you gently push it away, shunning that bruised, neglected part of you back into its dark and cramped cell.

His mouth opens, tongue stroking over your own, flicking the roof of your mouth. Hands on your hips, squeezing your waist. Toes hurting from the effort of balancing on them, upper body stretched taut with your arms grasping him tight, keeping him tucked against you, pressing his scent into your skin.

Quiet, needful sounds pass into his mouth, fingers tightening on him, pushing into him, keeping him. He’s yours for the moment. Hands grip the fabric of your dress, material scraping over your goose-pebbled skin. Breath catches at the rough drag of fingertips on your upper thigh, gripping your bare hips.

Heat builds behind your eyes, pressure warming as they squeeze shut, grasping him tighter, clinging desperately. Something hard and wooden is digging into the base of your spine, but his hips are pushing into your front and—and you can’t feel anything. Not even a slight firmness. He isn’t even interested in your body.

You kiss harder, pressing against him, winding against him in attempts to stir something. To get some kind of male reaction. Soft, feminine sounds spill from your lips, quiet pants as you bite down on the groans, only allowing the sweet and pleasing noises to make their way out. You press your chest into him, utilising the book case to arch your spine, even as it hurts to level yourself upon it. His hands squeeze your waist, and you bow further, slowly settling back upon the aching flats of your feet, toes stinging from the weight.

Your neck tips back, craning upward to keep his mouth upon your own, his thumb running over the bare skin above the band of fabric clinging to your hips. You start at the action, wanting more. Slowly, carefully, in a way you hope he likes, you press your lips to the edge of his mouth. Gradually, you make your way to his throat, nipping and kissing his neck.

His scent wraps around you, and for a moment you imagine he really is—that his arms are around your waist and he’s holding you because he wants to. But that illusion falls to dust when his fingers hook beneath the material of your underwear and he firmly pulls away from your mouth, dipping so his own is over your throat. He noses the sensitive skin a little roughly, and a small sound whines from your lips, warmth heating your cheeks as you replay the noise.

It doesn’t seem to bother him as he licks the hollow of your throat, almost certainly feeling the way your arms tense and the way your breath catches.

His canines scrape and this is it, he’s going to bite down, and he’s going to mark you, and it’ll stay. It’ll turn purple and blue, then to a yellowy green, but you’ll have memorised it by the time it fades. Teeth prick against the delicate skin of your throat and you tilt your head back, giving him unlimited access, and his mouth opens, opens over you, preparing to sink deep inside, and— He pulls away. You were too eager.

Instead his lips seal over a spot beneath your jaw, suckling and kissing gently, but nothing that will leave a mark. Nothing he’ll have to face once this is over. His hand slides back, and you inhale sharply as he squeezes your ass, cupping the plumpness appreciatively. You go a little dizzy when his fingers slide deeper, going between your thighs with expert ease, pressing against your entrance.

Absolute humiliation flushes your skin as he feels just how wet you are, just how desperate you are for a kind word from him. If he asked you to stop, and asked you to get on your knees, you’re not entirely sure you’d be able to deny him. Even if it meant forgoing your own pleasure. If you could give him a little more…

He pushes away the sopping fabric, fingers circling the sensitive skin, making you tighten around nothing. No one’s ever worked you this well before. Never had you so desperate after receiving so little, and— You squeeze your eyes shut, pressure heating in a flash at the realisation.

“Look at me.”

His voice breaks through your world of darkness, eyes opening to seek him out. They flit away, embarrassed by the damp blur coating your vision. His fingers slide forward with ease, dancing through the mess between your thighs, pressing to that unfairly sensitive space at your apex. “Look at me,” he repeats. Still quiet, but stern; sharp.

You follow his orders weakly, meeting that piercing hazel that’s staring deep inside. His fingers press in, sliding to his second knuckle, and your breath halts, catches in your chest. His eyes are latched upon yours and you’re unable to look away as he swallows you whole, your entire self being devoured and obliterated over and over beneath him. Trampled and beaten into the dirt until you’re curling up within yourself shrinking away from this monster that’s taking everything you have.

If you continue to give him everything, what will be left of you?

His fingers curl and thoughts melt with your brain. You lap at the edges of him, that inherent otherness that comes with being fae reaching out desperately, standing on a precipice with nothing more than a hope to be caught. He touches a spot inside you and you stumble, quietly moaning as you focus instead on how he feels inside you. How he’s pressed against you and you’ve never been so close with anyone else. Never been so vulnerable, emotions and thoughts laid bare through the intimacies of what should be limited to lovers.

Azriel’s murmuring something but your world has gone quiet, sound a dim ringing in the chambers of your memory. Your world is comprised of touch and feeling, nothing but sensation and existence. His fingers retract and you’re cold and empty, but then he’s shifting to be in front, and, and—

His two fingers slide in to his knuckles, pressing all the way inside and you have to make way for him. Moans and pants spill from your lips in attempts to find room for his pleasure, the way he’s sliding in and out of your heat, curling and pumping and sound begins to return. You’re aware of the things he’s murmuring to you, saying how good you are, what a good job you’re doing, and you lap up every word he gives you. Every muttered praise, every lied encouragement. You’re content to believe them for the moment, to burn yourself in his warmth.

“Azriel…” you pant, softly.

His eyes flicker, again touching that spot inside of you that has you tightening around him. He marks the pace of your breathing, shallow and uneven, seeking more from him. You’re nearing that tipping point, nearing the pleasure he’s giving to you, but…

He’s taking it from you.

This moment, the meaning of intimacy, and your pleasure. He’s taking everything from you. Things he has no need for, things that have no use to him, because you’re open for him. Allowing him to do what he wants to you, and, yes, what you want him to do, too.

If you give him this…you really will have nothing. But he is everything to you, so it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter but it does, somehow. You can’t give it all. That’s not something you can put yourself through. That’s not what you survived for. You haven’t made it two years without asking for hand from anyone just to have it all ripped away.

Pleasure builds, heat burning beneath your skin, coiling tighter and tighter as you look into those remarkable hazel eyes. “Azriel…” you moan, tightening your grip over his shoulders. That small, malnourished part of you screams, screams until her lungs rupture and her nails peel back from her finger tips as she claws at her cage. She screams with fury and rage at her imprisonment and you can’t, you can’t.

“Stop.”

He ceases his movements, but not willingly. He’s pausing, fingers still sunken inside your wet heat, keeping you on the brink of pleasure, within the palm of temptation. “Stop,” you repeat, hoarsely, arms releasing him in favour of taking his hand by the wrist, pulling it away from you. Shame weighs in your stomach as you feel your slick forming thin threads connecting his wet fingers to your sopping cunt. The proof of the choice you made. But the choice he made, too.

Azriel watches you intently as you pull back. You were right there. At the tip of his fingers, you were about to tip over. Why had you pulled away?

A small spark of that fire he’d seen earlier presents itself in your gaze, and he’s wanting you to fight again. But you’d told him to stop, and he will keep to his word. If you don’t want that pleasure, then you won’t get it. Not from him at least. It’s your choice if you want to pass up the chance he was giving you—the opportunity to have him and then leave. He was presenting you with a way out, but you’ve found your own. Made your own. It’s not the work of the doe-eyed, simpering woman he’s come to know you as. Maybe you aren’t the female he thought you were.

You can hardly stand to be in your skin as you push him away gently; numbly. That ringing sounds in your ears and it’s all you can do to cover yourself, easing out from between him and the book case to make for the exit. You don’t care to look back, even for him. Not so soon, before you’ve even had the chance to process. Because it’s a lot.

A lot has happened. A lot has changed. And you— You don’t know.

He’d seemed different, somehow. He’d seemed like— Well, he clearly isn’t. He’s not the male you had hoped he was.

————

Hours had passed in the blink of an eye, and thoughts were still a morning view clogged with thick fog. So you went to bed.

You didn’t allow yourself to think of him. Couldn’t think of him.

The buzzing had cut out, leaving an almost peaceful silence to fill the space he had left.

You washed, but did not eat, fearful of running into company. So you changed, and got into bed with an empty stomach; for a few strangely blissful moments, you were mortally, beautifully human again. Head empty, heart empty, belly empty. Tired and somber. A little numb.

Quiet.

————

You rose with the sun, arms stretching with the rays, and you allowed the silence to stretch until midday. Basking in quiet, peaceful relief. No thoughts, just feeling. The blue skies, billowing puffy clouds, fresh breeze. The smell of something clean and sharp; minty?

The first non-natural sound you heard that day was the leathery beat of wings followed by the blaring scuff of boots and voices. Hastily, you retreat to your room, finally having to face the music. Face what had happened. The choices you had made, and the choices he had made. Every messy, tangled thread. It was time to sort through them all.

So you sit on your bed, but it feels too stiff; too mechanical. You lie down, watching the ceiling and thoughts eddy out, like water between your fingers. You have no need for the useless noise. Only the memories and sediment.

Breath blows from your lungs, chest deflating. Aching for air. Breathe in. Hold, calm down, exhale.

And what?

What is there to do? Where is there to go from here? Where even are you?

Eyes slide shut. Closing in with your thoughts. Secret space for you and your memories. Solitude.

If you were half the female Elain is…

Eyes squeeze tight. Breathe.

If you were even half like her…

Heat builds. Nails bite.

If you were different, if you were more like her…

Muscle contracts. Aches blossom.

If you were different.

You nod to yourself, accepting it. He wants Elain, not you. And it hurts. It hurts that again, you aren’t good enough. It hurts, and he had said it out of anger—maybe irritation. He had apologised, he had been regretful, and the words still sting. Can you forgive him? Does it matter if you can forgive him?

What matters is where you go from here—wherever you are.

And it will begin with understanding, accepting he will not…he won’t… He won’t do whatever it is that you want. Whatever thing you desire, that feeling you get from him will never be yours. It’s not yours to take, but you want it none the less. So your first task will be acknowledging that, and letting it pass.

Breathe in. Lungs rise; expand. Skin stretches. Blow out.

Heat rolls back into your hair, dripping into the sheets.

Weight settles, pulling you down through your bed. Taking you away again.

You need to talk with him.

————

Agitation has been crawling, itching and festering. Stroking you skin with its lovely claws. Frustration opens her gently smiling jaws, pillowy tongue looking plush, and pleasant.

The library’s doors are looming, tall and ominous, and—no. They’re the same as they always are: double wooden doors, smooth and carefully crafted. You raise your hand to knock, but that wouldn’t make sense. The library isn’t his space, you don’t need to knock to enter a shared area. It’s your house as much as his, you don’t have to tip toe about. Don’t need ask for entrance.

Spine steels, straightening, and you open the door.

You know what he’s like: you won’t be able to find him if he’s trying to avoid you. So you’ll go as you usually do, sitting in the library, filling afternoons with books and parchment. Maybe you’ll actually be able to get some reading done today. Maybe you’ll be able to relax and return to normalcy. Somehow, you doubt it.

The doors swing open, perfectly silent, on well-maintained hinges, and you instantly pick out his scent. Pleasing and fresh. He’s already in here. You grip onto it, taking a step in his direction, heart pounding.

Are you really ready for this conversation?

Fuck.

Breathe in. Hold. Count. Exhale.

Hand over your chest, feeling the drum of your heart.

Beneath his scent, you can pick out a smaller, female scent. It’s faint and barely there, and memories come back. Wood digging into your back, his hips pressing into your front, not an ounce of arousal to be found. How severely you had embarrassed yourself.

One more step forward, one step at a time. There’s no rush, just go slow. At your own pace. The fact alone that he’s here: where he’s found you countless times past over the year…he won’t run away. He has nothing to worry about. He isn’t on the verge of falling apart.

The trail is leading you to that aisle, where the two of you had been just days ago.

Throat tightens. Lump forms. Difficult to swallow.

Breathe. Hold. Count. Exhale.

Final step.

Your heart spikes as you take him in, the light from the windows sweeping over his outline, revealing him in all his beauty. Watery sun catches on the slight iridescence of his wings, and your hand slides over your chest. Deep breath.

His back remains to you, and you know he’s allowing you to take control of this, how it unfolds. If you want to leave it for another day, he won’t make you face it. You could walk right back out of this library, and he won’t say a word. It gives you a little comfort at least.

You clear your throat, readying yourself to see him again, to look into those hazel eyes. His shadows are nowhere in sight, and you wonder if they’re perhaps giving you the privilege of privacy, the courtesy of not peeking into your business. Teeth find your lower lip, but you need to talk to him, or you can’t move forward.

“Azriel?” Your voice sounds louder than you had expected and you suppress your slight start. Swallowing, you try again, tamping down the flush of embarrassment. “I…I want to talk about what happened. Between us.”

Wings tense, shoulders go rigid as he moves sharply, turning on you with that lethal precision of someone who’s been caught off guard. Deep cocoa eyes latch upon yours, creamy skin flushed, silky hair hanging in lovely, elegant cascades over her shoulders.

Lips part in surprise, mind goes numb. Blank.

Azriel’s brow narrows as he takes you in, but it’s Elain your attention is on as she flushes deep, taking a step away from the male. “I—…” She turns to Azriel, who is still watching you with that piercing gaze. “Well, again, if you ever have an afternoon, I’d like very much to show you. I’ll leave you two to…talk.” She hurriedly excuses herself, the soft wisp of her lilac dress hardly registering as she brushes past.

You stare at Azriel, tall and unyielding.

You stare, and nothing comes to mind. Anything you had planned to say is forgotten, washed away to a land of mist and fog. Sharp hazel eyes meet yours, dark and accusing, spearing through you. Shadows peek over his wings, circling tight. Lips press together in a stern line.

“What was that?” Your voice is hoarse, rough at the edges. “What were you…? Why…?”

He regards you, then shifts, all grace and strength. “Don’t do that,” he says, a touch quieter than usual, and you wonder if he’s somehow thinking it might make this easier. “You knew this was coming. Don’t pretend you’re surprised.”

Words don’t exist in your mind, your tongue has forgotten them.

He waits, watching your mental stumbles and stammers.

Your throat rolls. “I just— I just wanted…” Your lower lips trembles, and his eyes flick away for a moment, allowing you to dry the dampness in your eyes, shame and humiliation settling. “Why in here?” You manage instead. “Isn’t that a little…?”

“I can’t plan these things,” he says, gently. “Bad timing, I suppose.”

Bad timing.

“You want me to believe that wasn’t a wake-up call?” You ask quietly, not looking at him. “I’m always in here around now. You know that. Don’t say you forgot.”

He pauses, and you feel the weight of his gaze returning to you. You want to meet it, but… “Like I said, bad timing.” Silence stretches, fractures spiral down your spine, shattering across your chest. “It wasn’t an intentional move on my part, as much as you may doubt it,” he adds, quietly.

When no reply comes, he shifts on his feet, “what did you want to talk about?”

You debate turning and running right then and there. Just leaving, but that would just be putting it off, and you don’t have the energy. “What happened here a few days ago.”

He’s quiet. Listening to you.

“I…” You don’t know. You’d hoped it would be an equal effort, that the conversation would just happen like all the ones you’ve had before. But those have revolved around Elain, and been led by Azriel. Now you’re in control, and you have no idea what to do.

You wipe your eyes again, not as discreetly as you would have liked, but it’s better than him actually seeing you cry. You stand a little straighter, but still can’t meet his gaze. “We… I shouldn’t have done that.” You settle on. “It was…it was a foolish choice to make, and I’m…” You breathe deeply, heat pushing from behind your eyes, and you dry them again. “I’m sorry for tangling you up in it,” you whisper.

He’s silent, and you wonder if he’s already left, wanting to give you privacy. But then he says, “I made some…I was wrong, too.” You don’t really know what to make of that, so you stay quiet. “I thought maybe it would help you get over your feelings,” he explains. In your peripherals you can see as he shakes his head, “I should have known better.”

It stings more than he probably meant it to, but you find yourself meeting his gaze. “I’m fully grown. I can make my own decisions and manage the consequences.” Yes, it’s a little bitter, but… No. It’s just bitter. No excuse.

“No,” he says, and your eyes flick away from his, “the things I said, comparing you to Elain was wrong and unfair. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.” You nod stiffly, reluctantly accepting his apology, because you did some things…said some things, too.

“I’m not sure…” you start, then shake your head. “I shouldn’t have said what I did about your hands. It was wrong, and cruel, and I said it because I knew it would hurt you,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ve never— Not once. I’ve never thought…” Frustration bubbles in your chest as you search for the words. But he shakes his head, “I understand.”

Your brows curve upward, looking at him, but there’s a wall behind his eyes, and you know it’s pointless. The scar you targeted runs far deeper. Pain cultivated across centuries, burrowing deeper and deeper until it made home in the marrow of his bones. And you’d struck it. Like the self-absorbed, jealous coward you are, you’d wanted him to hurt how you were.

You remove your gaze from him, too ashamed to hold it. “I just thought…I don’t know…” you mumble, ringing your fingers together. “Feyre and Rhys, Nesta and Cassian? Then Elain has—…” You cut yourself off, remembering how things had gone the last time you’d brought them up. “Well, I just thought maybe, that…I don’t know…maybe you and I…”

“Were mates?” He finishes.

You shift uneasily, rubbing the back of your neck as you peer at the floor, “not in an entitled way… Just a… I was hopeful. That’s all it was.”

“I don’t think you grasp the depth of a mating bond.”

You bite your lip to keep it from wobbling, “I guess not.”

Maybe he’s right. It’s not like you grew up on Prythian tales and lullabies—you only came into his land recently. You know so little about his world, despite having been living in it for the past two years.

“Anyway,” you say, softly, voice a little raw, “I’m sorry for trying to involve myself like I did.” He nods, accepting your apology, and your eyes flit to his right, the books on the shelf. “And, I didn’t mean to—… I mean, I didn’t know that you and…” you trail off. Tongue flicks out to wet your lips, “it wasn’t intentional on my part. I just wanted to get this out of the way…”

He nods again, “I believe you."

You swallow, managing a small, nervous smile, still peering at the row of books to his right. “I’d like…I think, it would be nice to be friends, then.” Your eyes flit to his, an effort to do so. But he offers no consolation, no last comfort. Humiliating silence stretches between you, and you hope he might say something, yearn for some sort of reassurance that you haven’t ruined things.

But your head lowers, nodding slightly. “Okay…” you say, weakly, “I get it. That’s fine.”

You watch your fingers ring together in front of you, nails sliding beneath one another as you fidget. “I’ll just—” You gesture to the door, and he still remains silent, just watching you. He knows not to reach out. It would be cruel to give you any sort of hope.

Teeth bite your lip, and you hang your head in shame.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “okay.”

CBMTHY Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @thekingravkadeserves @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Naga King // Part 2

Part 1

Shian is the King of the Naga, the valued birthright of his family to one day earn the tribe’s respect as they murder the reigning King if they don’t offer their service to the heir. Many other tribes and kingdoms may say this is brutal but it was his way of life. 

“My King! A warrior of the canine race was found on our borders–how would you like to proceed?”

“The same we always have. Devour them.”

“Yes, my King.”

It was how his family established a kingdom in a world where the human kingdom was in the mood to acknowledge different tribes as kingdoms. Word has it that a hero had come to the humans that would unite all the separate tribes with some peacekeeping power. Naturally, Shian thought such a thing was the stuff of dreams; instead was planning to make the journey to gauge the threat of this new being. But of course his strength brings so much attention the chatty little snakes couldn’t help sharing about the oddest thing.

“Did you? Did you hear?

“Yes! Yes, I did! So beautiful! A beautiful thing!”

“A naga youngling! A naga youngling and their human parent!” 

“What a sight! What a sight to behold.”

Granted this news was not delivered maliciously but that didn’t matter to Shian. As King of the Naga it was his duty to protect the clear separation of all humans and Nagas. History and biology spoke volumes—Nagas are the better creatures. Shian was more eager than anything to prove this, especially on the journey to observe eliminate the hero meant to unite them all. But of course, this changes when he meets you.

“Oh (Y/n)! I saved our dearest Nox from a wild boar and I saved the body for a hearty meal!!! Can’t I come inside now!”

“No!”

“Please!? Wouldn’t you like it if I didn’t break the window, this time?”

Since he’s met you everything has changed. Now that he’s discovered that his destined mate is a fiery little human he’s had no choice but to reconsider. Now he can adore your flaws as a human and admire your unique traits even more. His skepticism about other humans hasn’t completely gone away but he’s plenty more merciful now that he has you to woo. 

“HISSS State your name and business human!”

“-I-I- just wanted to deliver the fruits I always do sir!”

“Hmm my mate did mention something about their usual shipment….fine but thank your stars I’ve decided not to gorge myself on those eyes of yours.”

“Y-y-yes Sir!”

Not to mention you have an adorable little Naga son! Not that he finds Nox particularly cute on his own but it’s the words he parrots from you that make him a delight to be around. It’s a biological thing that Nagas interested in a mate aren’t fond of their children previous or otherwise. Even when they’re created together, there’s a strong chance that paternal love humans expect may never appear. But he’s found when he acts as though that’s what he’s doing you excuse more of his behavior.

“Now to strike with your tail you’ll have to shift your weight like this."

“Oh I see!”

“Yes…good job…”

“Are you looking back at the window, again?”

“Well of course I am! You said they were looking, right?!”

He does find that the more time he finds with Nox he doesn’t hate him. He’s sure if he was any other little snakeling in his kingdom he’d fully be invested but this is the snakeling in the way of attaining his mate’s complete attention. This is why it’s easier to blame him than accept you’re not very interested in giving him your attention anyway. It does annoy him that Nox isn’t unaware of this. The little narc snakeling is happy to string him along; baiting him with his praises to you to learn things from him.

“What?! I thought you weren’t watching the fight?!”

“I didn’t but the forest talks. So how do you move so fast across the forest like that?”

“Hmph that’s a secret. Family secret, actually.”

“Oh, that’s a shame…guess I ought to tell them you could never see us being a family.”

“What?! That’s not what I–”

“Guess I'll call out in one. Two. Thre–”

“Okay okay pay attention I’m only showing you once.”

“Yes!”

In the Naga King's heart of hearts he kind of really loves likes this domestic life with you two. It feels as though the whole world is right when he can spend all day following and pestering you as he learns more about you. But it won’t stay that way forever. And unfortunately, his entourage and advisors will find him. Reminding him of that pesky hero he has to eat meet. It’s simple to debate with his team about taking you with him or sending you back home to his newly constructed castle. Of course, he neglects to ask your opinion on the matter and must reap the consequences.

“My (Y/n)...why are all of my servants tied on the drying line?”

“They started moving my stuff. I thought I told you and your little buddies to stop touching my house.”

“ But how are we supposed to move you to my castle?”

“What?!”

“(Y/n)...please put down the knife!”

After talking you down committing his entire entourage to chores you wanted done he ordains that you should try accompanying him on his mission to the human kingdom. Leaving out the part about the hero he suggests that he leave some of his servants to tend to your home and babysit Nox. This is entirely so that he can convince you to come to his castle one day. Not just so he can enjoy some alone time with you. And while you’d like to refuse Nox thinks it’s awesome. When you aren’t chasing the Naga servants away they regard him with kindness and very giving. And it’s that same observation that has you kissing Nox goodbye as you depart for the human castle.

“Alright, Nox be good…try not to grow up too much while I’m gone.”

“Of course not…if you want I can send my shedded tail skin to you so you can ‘see me grow up. ”

“Nox don’t do that. That’ll be weird.”

“I thought so too but the others say it’s an endearing thing.”

It’s going to be hard, returning to civilization. Since you’ve been isekai’d you limited almost all of your interactions with other humans and now you were going to meet the protagonist. But you wouldn’t let your mind be completely occupied because you would be distracted by the obsessed Naga king.

Part 3: ....

[maxtermind]

absolutely loved ‘baby, would i still be your lover’, everyone single one got me in my feels! i was wondering would you consider doing a part 2? whether it ends in angst or fluff

I'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

★ : summary :: when he accidentally insults you during an argument- aftermath ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort, hints of angst ★ : word count :: 4.3k ★ : a/n :: thank you so much for the love on part 1 💓 some of these have open ending so you can pick whether you'd like to forgive them or not as a reader!! feedback is appreciated :)

( part 1 )

Max Verstappen

You sighed as you sat down to have your morning tea as usual, trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. As if you hadn't spent all night long getting your phone spammed with calls that you were ignoring.

After mindlessly roaming around for a bit, you eventually decided to crash at your best friend’s place. You lazily waved at her as she frantically got ready to leave for work. However, you were on your tiptoe as soon as the door opened.

A body that was possibly sleeping while leaning against the door fell inside and you heard curses that you were quite too familiar with. Your heart clenched at the sight of your boyfriend - or perhaps now, your ex-boyfriend - on his knees, nursing the wound on his head. The ache of seeing him in pain reignited the anguish you thought you had left behind.

“Okay,” you heard your friend murmur. “I'm gonna let you guys get to it.” She was out the door a second later.

You looked at the closed door instead of the man who was desperately trying to make eye contact with you.

“How long have you…” You trailed off before deciding that you didn't want to know.

“As soon as you turned your phone off, Y/N! I've been here since last night.” "Why?" you choked out, the words barely escaping your lips as tears threatened to overflow. His brows furrowed before he ran his hands over his face and got up to sit right next to you. You saw his hand itching toward yours and instinctively pulled it towards your body. "Because I needed to see you in person, to talk." He took another deep breath and you later realized that he was trying to stop himself from crying. “I realize I messed up, baby. I.. I never should have let you walk out.” But his attempt to mend the shattered pieces of your relationship only served to reopen the wounds, your walls instinctively rising in defense,"Talk? You think a talk is going to fix everything?" Max's eyes were filled with a mix of regret and desperation as he reached out for your hand, his fingers trembling slightly. "No, I don't think a talk will magically fix everything," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

"But it's a start. I need you to know that I'm truly sorry for what happened. I hate myself for hurting you, for making you doubt how much you mean to me."

You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, the pain of the previous night still too fresh in your mind.

“How can I trust you again, Max? How can I be sure that this won't happen again?" Your voice was barely a whisper, filled with the ache of betrayal.

Max's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know I've messed up, Y/N. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I'll work on my temper, I’ll be better to you, I'll do anything you ask of me. I just need you to give me another chance." “You know you’ve always been the best to me, right? I just can’t believe that instead of talking it out yesterday, you straight up skipped to breaking up wit-” Fresh tears started falling down your cheeks. Max immediately leaned forward to hold you in his arms and you let him because you needed him. But how could you trust him again? How could you be sure that history wouldn't repeat itself? That he won’t throw away your whole relationship just because the anger got a hold of him? As Max held you close, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to scream and shout at him for causing you so much pain. But another part of you craved his warmth, his touch, his presence.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Max whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I hate myself for it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."

You buried your face in his chest, the tears soaking through his shirt as you struggled to make sense of your feelings.

“I just don't know if I can do this anymore, Max," you admitted, your voice muffled against him. Max tightened his embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I understand," he murmured, his voice gentle. His admission eased your thumping heart a bit, you were glad to have him back. The storm within you finding a momentary calm.

"I made you feel like our relationship was disposable, like breaking up was no big deal. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You're the most important person in my life, baby and the thought of losing you terrifies me. I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to show you just how much you mean to me. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust if you still want me."

Lewis Hamilton

The weight of Lewis's words hung heavy in the air, suffocating you as you retreated into the sanctuary of your bedroom. Tears streamed down your cheeks unchecked, your heart aching with a pain you couldn't quite comprehend. How had a day that started with such a promise turned into this? You buried your face in your hands, the sting of Lewis's words feeling like acid running through your veins.

Outside the door, the silence was deafening, broken only by the muffled sound of your sobs. Lewis stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he replayed the exchange in his head.

He couldn't believe the words that had escaped his lips, couldn't fathom how he had allowed his frustration to morph into such hurtful remarks.

Minutes stretched into eternity as Lewis grappled with the weight of his actions, the gravity of his words settling like a lead weight in his chest.

He wanted to reach out to you, to apologize and make things right, but his feet remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the magnitude of his mistake.

Inside the bedroom, you were consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal - they all swirled together into an ugly monster, threatening to engulf you whole.

How could the man you loved, the man who had always been your rock, turn on you with such venom?

But beneath the anger and hurt, there was a flicker of doubt, a gnawing fear that maybe Lewis's words held a grain of truth. Maybe you were too insecure, too needy, too demanding. Maybe you were asking for too much, expecting him to be there for you when he had his own priorities and responsibilities. Maybe-

The sound of a soft knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Lewis standing there, his expression wrought with regret and guilt. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the unspoken apology hanging heavy in the air. Looking at him distraught made your chest feel worse. How could he make you feel ten fold worse than this and not feel a thing? 

"I'm sorry," Lewis finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't mean what I said. I was out of line, and I know I hurt you. Please, let me make it right." He rushed through the words.

His words pierced through the haze of your pain, and you felt a bit of heaviness leaving your body. He crossed the room in a few strides, dropping to his knees in front of you, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. 

"I don't know what came over me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion before your boyfriend took your hand away from your face and kissed your cheeks. "I was so caught up in my own frustrations that I lashed out at you, and I hate myself for it. You don't deserve to be treated that way, especially not by me."

You studied his face, searching for any sign of insincerity, but all you saw was genuine remorse and regret. And despite the pain still raw in your chest, you couldn't deny the love you felt for him, the longing to mend what had been broken between you. “You hurt me,” you whispered but didn’t push him away as he laid down with you, holding you close to his chest. Some of your resolve wavering when you felt his fast heartbeat. “I wanted you there so much.” He nodded as he shushed you, his own eyes dropping tears. “I’m so so sorry, baby. I can't even begin to express how deeply I regret the way I acted the whole day, I know you deserve so much more but-” You shifted slightly, knowing all that you wanted right now was comfort, you didn't want to forgive him or minimize the weight of his actions. "I don't know if I can right now," you replied, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

Lewis's eyes brimmed with tears as he whispered, "Please don't shut me out. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

You felt a pang of guilt at the pain evident in his voice. "I just need some time to process everything," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I understand," Lewis replied, his tone filled with sorrow. "But please know that I'm here whenever you're ready to talk."

You nodded, silently acknowledging his words as you allowed yourself to be enveloped in his comforting embrace. 

"I promise to make it up to you," Lewis vowed earnestly, his voice laced with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust."

"I want to believe you," you admitted quietly, your heart heavy with uncertainty. Everything was a little too raw right now and your emotions were all over the place.

"I'll spend every moment proving it to you," Lewis declared, his eyes locking with yours in a silent vow.

“I was thoughtless and cruel today, and I never should have let those words leave my lips. You are not insecure, you are strong and resilient, baby. You deserve so much better than the hurtful words I spoke. Please know that I can’t lose you, Y/N. I will work tirelessly to regain your trust and rebuild what I have so carelessly shattered. You mean the world to me, and I will spend every moment striving to be worthy of your love.”

Carlos Sainz

As you sat nervously in your childhood home, the familiar sights and sounds providing little comfort, your mind raced with thoughts of disappointment and hurt.

For the third time, Carlos had failed to join you in meeting your parents, leaving you to face their questioning looks and unspoken concerns alone. You had rehearsed what you would say to them, how you would explain his absence, but each time, the words caught in your throat, choked by a mixture of frustration and sadness. For the past few days since you walked out of your apartment, you had been ignoring Carlos’ attempts to reconcile with you. The calls and texts he spammed you with were ignored and curses left your mouth as soon as your mind went back to the day of the argument, bringing unwanted tears to your eyes.

In the passing, you saw a Ferrari conference being conducted and as much as you wanted to reach out and talk it out with him, your heart did flips that you were sure you should have visited a doctor for.

Your parents, ever perceptive, noticed your unease as you fidgeted with the napkin in your lap, casting worried glances in your direction. You tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered, betraying the turmoil within you.

How could you explain to them that the man you loved couldn't find the time to meet them, despite his promises and assurances? "What's wrong, sweetie?" your mom asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed, hesitating for a moment before replying, "It's Carlos... He like…"

Your dad's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to muster a reassuring smile. "Yeah, he said that he got caught up with work. You know how busy he is with his racing and all..." Your dad’s brows furrowed when you trailed off, about to ask you what exactly you meant but just as you were steeling yourself to broach the subject, the doorbell rang, startling you from your thoughts.

Your heart sank as you realized it was likely a neighbor stopping by to meet you since you don’t visit that often, you stood up to go greet them. But then, to your disbelief, you heard his voice drifting through the door, before you saw your boyfriend standing right behind it. Your head titled in confusion and you drew a breath that took most of the stress from the previous days away from your body.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, his tone apologetic yet determined. Carlos took your hand and kissed it lightly,"Traffic was a nightmare." “What about the conference that you-” “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N.” He cut you off before pulling you in and walking to the dining room that was in his vision. As if that was the answer to your question.

You turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and a flicker of hope. There he was, looking slightly disheveled but undeniably earnest, his gaze that locked on yours was as if it was seeking forgiveness. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the regret etched in the lines of his face.

Your parents exchanged a glance, their expressions softening as they took in the sight of Carlos standing before them. 

Despite their reservations about his repeated absences, they couldn't deny the genuine affection that Carlos held in his eyes when he looked at you.

Before you could find the words to respond, Carlos took a step forward, his hand reaching out tentatively. "I'm really sorry, both of you," he said, addressing your parents directly.

"I know how important this is to you, and I should have made more of an effort to be here on time."

His words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of his shortcomings and a pledge to do better. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a glimmer of renewed faith in your relationship. "Well, we're just glad you could make it," your dad said, offering Carlos a handshake.

"Thank you for coming, Carlos," your mother said, her voice warm yet cautious. "We understand that life gets busy, but it's important to make time for the people who matter most."

Carlos nodded, his expression earnest as he met her gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Family means putting in effort, I promise to make it up to all of you."

As you sat down to dinner, the atmosphere was tinged with a sense of reconciliation and hope. Your hand still intertwined with his as you saw him charm your family. Despite the rocky start, Carlos's presence brought a newfound sense of unity and understanding to the table. And as you shared stories and laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to mend what had seemed irreparably broken.

In that moment, you realized that love wasn't just about grand gestures or sweeping declarations—it was about the everyday moments of connection and compromise, the willingness to forgive and grow together.

And as you looked at Carlos, his eyes filled with determination and affection, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, hand in hand.

Charles Leclerc

Charles had apologized right after he had said those words and though you had both fallen back into routine, the underlying bitterness and resentment was still present. You weren’t the one initiating any kind of affection from your side and every time Charles was initiating anything, you half assed your way out of it. Was it childish? Probably. But you were still not comfortable with how easily you had forgiven Charles, burying your hurt just to avoid conflict once again despite knowing deep down that he has hurt you probably more than anyone else ever has. These thoughts were running through your head as you sat beside Charles, your heart still heavy with the weight, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Especially because Charles seemed distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts, that you couldn't help but wonder what exactly they were. Why had he even asked to go on a date today? To break up with you? Suddenly, Pippa appeared, her presence causing the knot to form in your stomach to get tighter. She approached with a confident stride, a charming smile gracing her lips as she greeted Charles with a hug.

"Hey, Charlie!" Pippa exclaimed, her eyes flickering briefly in your direction before returning to Charles. "Long time no see!"

Charles returned her hug, though his embrace seemed somewhat forced. "Hey, Pippa. Yeah, it's been a while." 

You observed their interaction closely, your unease growing with each passing moment. Pippa's presence always seemed to unsettle you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to their friendship than met the eye. Was he gonna break up with you in public and confess his years long feelings for Pippa? Charles glanced at you, his expression softening as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I was just out with Y/N today."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth at his actions, his affectionate gesture soothing some of the tension that had been building between you.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Pippa said, offering you a friendly smile. "Sorry I didn’t see you next to Charlie."

You returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes and managed to reply without gagging. "Nice to meet you, Pippa." Charles tightened his grip on your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence and support. "We were just grabbing a coffee," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and Pippa. "Care to join us?"

Pippa hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced at you before turning back to Charles. "Actually, I was hoping we could catch up alone, if that's okay."

You felt a pang of anxiety at her words, a sense of foreboding settling in the pit of your stomach. Despite your reservations, you nodded, forcing a smile as you released Charles's hand. It was better to walk away yourself than to have Charles dismiss you.

"Of course," you said, though your voice sounded strained even to your own ears. "I'll wait for you outside."

Charles shot you an alarmed look as you stood up,”I’ll see you in a few.” Charles’ hand lingered on yours for a moment longer before you reluctantly let go and made your way to the door.

You leaned against your car and enjoyed the wind for a second. You couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of the exchange between your boyfriend and his best friend sitting inside.

You were half scared to find them kissing or something but, instead a sense of confusion washed over you as you watched the way Pippa was angrily point a finger at Charles and scream at him.

It was a second later when she stormed out before making her way towards you.

"Is he doing this because of you?!" Pippa's accusatory tone sent a shiver down your spine, her words hitting too close to home.

Before you could even process what was happening, Charles emerged from the cafe, his expression determined as he approached you and Pippa.

"Go home, Pippa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument as he intertwined his hand with yours.

Pippa's eyes blazed with anger, her fists clenched at her sides as she glared at Charles. "You will regret this, Charles!" she spat before storming off, leaving you both standing there in stunned silence.

Once Pippa was out of sight, you turned to Charles, your heart pounding in your chest. "What was that all about?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Charles sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry you had to witness that, Y/N. Pippa has been... difficult lately."

You frowned, your mind reeling with confusion and frustration. "Difficult how?"

Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find the right words. "She's been pushing boundaries, trying to come between us. But I won't let her." 

"Hey," he continued, taking your hand in his. "I told Pippa that I wouldn't be spending time with her alone anymore. If she can't accept you, then it's better for us to not be friends at all."

You blinked in surprise, a rush of gratitude flooding through you at his words. "Really?"

Charles nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "Really. You're the most important person in my life, and I won't let anyone come between us."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you standing up for us."

He smiled softly, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "I'll always stand up for us, Y/N. You mean everything to me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you threw your arms around him, holding him close. Despite the lingering bitterness and resentment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment.

Lando Norris

As you stepped out of the taxi, the cool night air enveloped you, offering a moment of respite from the whirlwind of emotions that had engulfed you throughout the evening.

Your heart still felt heavy with the weight of Lando's hurtful words, but beneath the pain, a numbness resided- knowing deep down that you might’ve just broken up with your boyfriend.

Before you could take another step, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, you saw Lando rushing towards you, his eyes filled with remorse and his expression wrought with sorrow. Your hand instinctively went to your chest, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

"Y/N, please wait," he called out, his voice pleading as he reached your side, breathless from his haste.

You pulled your face to meet his eyes, uncertainty and wariness etched into your features as you met his gaze. Part of you yearned to turn away, to shield yourself from the pain of his words, but another part couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, he was sincere in his apology.

"Lando," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of hurt and apprehension. You wanted to say more but the damn ball in your throat stopped you doing so.

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he searched for the right words to express the depth of his regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I hurt you, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that."

His words washed over you like a soothing balm, offering a sliver of comfort. But still, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of the hurt that lingered in your heart.

"I should have been there for you tonight, supporting you and showing you how much you mean to me," Lando continued, his voice filled with genuine remorse. "Instead, I let my own selfishness and insecurities get in the way, and for that, I am truly sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened to him, the sincerity in his voice echoing the ache in your own heart. You were sure you’ll regret letting go of this amazing relationship without at least attempting to work on it.

Despite the pain he had caused you, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to rebuild what had been broken.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right away, Y/N," Lando said softly, his hands shaking and showcasing the intensity of his vulnerability.

"I know I have a lot of work to do to earn back your trust and your love. But please, just give me a chance to make things right. I promise to do whatever it takes to show you how much you mean to me, every single day for the rest of my life."

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity and remorse, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto the pain of the past and the hope for a brighter future. As you gazed into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity or deceit, all you found was raw honesty and unwavering devotion.

With a heavy heart and a flicker of hope, you reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I don't know if I'm ready to forgive you just yet, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Lando takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. "I'll spend every moment proving I'm worthy of your love, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me, starting from this moment. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, even if it means giving you the space you need. Just know that I'm here for you, whenever you're ready."

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[renshengs]

beyond evil (2021) occupies a very interesting space in the larger expanse of crime shows. like, it is a Cop Show. it is undeniably a Cop Show even if the two main characters, who are both cops for very different reasons, are handled with significantly greater awareness and intention than usual.

it is also, impressively, a show that pierces the real ugly rot of 1) police corruption and its overlap with capitalism 2) atrocious real-life lawmaking 3) the poor handling of femicide in stories. i cannot express how abruptly shocked i was to discover that i did not hate the way this show was carrying itself, despite its crime drama genre, narrative about two homoerotic cops, and its murder mystery premise featuring a plot about a serial killer with solely female victims. here is a story that understands its purpose and is so clear-eyed about it that i did in fact tentatively suspend all my wariness about Cop Shows to watch it—and what i got was a scathing response to every serial killer and true crime documentary out there. a narrative that said: enough. enough. look at the way grief rots people from the inside out. look at the way loss ruins lives. do not forget the sufferings of the innocent.

far too many crime dramas possess an incredibly dehumanizing analytical tone to them that goes, “what if these poor women died in brutal gruesome tragic ways? anyway, look at these men and their heroic journey for justice!” it’s why i can’t fucking stand to watch them for the sake of my blood pressure. while beyond evil is not exempt from using such gruesomeness as a part of its horror aspect, the women in this show, particularly the women who were murdered, occupy such a heavy weight over the narrative that it is impossible to reduce them to what they’re usually reduced to: numbers in files, or cold cases. and because the purpose of beyond evil is to examine the ways grief and loss bring about destruction to people’s lives and communities, these women cannot be seen as numbers. they need to be vivid and real; the audience needs to feel their loss as deeply and gnawingly as the townspeople do. as we would in real life.

personally i’m still surprised at myself for liking a Cop Show this much—because the law enforcement sympathy is unavoidable in a cop show—but then i’m also shocked at how immediately this show establishes its awareness of police power. i don’t mean it gives a passing nod, like a brief disclaimer. i mean that you watch until the end and you’re like: oh! the entire fucking show is about police power and its consequences! this entire goddamn show is about cops’ potential for harm and how it destroys lives! the main character only ever became a cop out of desperation because he realized it would protect him from suffering further at the hands of the police. because he realized it was the only way for him to get access to both the information and the legal power needed to take his own steps to solve his sister’s murder. it’s not radical—it’s a cop show. but it is novel. a cop whose relationship with his own occupation is bitterly resigned at best and traumatic at worst.

this is far from an original thought, but truly i think what makes beyond evil worth watching is that it is so incredibly careful with itself. its meta awareness of its own genre heightens it to a tier above other crime dramas—it knows and rejects voyeuristic perspectives into the lives of people who’ve suffered real loss and tragedy, and so it makes the loss inescapable. every direction you look, someone’s life has been irrevocably altered by the murders you learn about in the story. it gives you no space to push away the murder—no, you need to sit directly in its field of impact. all the fucking time. you are not watching the town suffer, you’re suffering with the town. the story sucks you in and makes you live alongside the rest of them; it's why the first watch hurts so raw. because the story refuses to let you take a true-crime approach. because it refuses to prioritize the narratives of perpetrators over human lives. you are there, and you are hurting.

man. really, if you're going to watch anything, watch this.

[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 3

Part 1. Part 2.

Summary: Your wife finds the note Melissa gave you, because... of course she does.

WC: ~2.7k

Carrie is back at her position sitting at the head of the table typing furiously on her laptop when you walk in with Millie excitedly telling you about how much she adored what they did in Miss Schemmenti’s classroom today.

It’s clear your wife is not happy about the disruption and noise that you bring into the house- but what is she expecting? Millie is seven, of course she’s excitable about what she’s been doing at school. And you can not comprehend how she could ever think of your daughter as a disruption. Sure, you sometimes have to put things on pause in order to take care of whatever your little girl wants, but isn’t that what being a parent is supposed to be?

“Amelia, quiet,” is all your wife states as your daughter kicks her shoes off at the front door with a loud giggle, followed by an “Oops! Sorry Momma!”

Millie immediately goes silent, and she shoots you an apologetic look, and you sigh heavily before making your way further into the house.

“Hi, honey,” you whisper as you lean forward to kiss her. It nearly repulses you to do that. You hate her at this point, and if it weren’t for Millie, you wouldn’t still be with her. There’s no damn way. But, Millie needs… well, she might actually do better without Carrie in her life at this point. You can’t find it in you to get away though. Because you know the repercussions, and then you might not always have your little girl. Despite the fact that Carrie pretty much despises your daughter’s mere existence (despite the fact that she is the one who carried her and gave birth to her- and you truly believe that may be part of the reason she has such a distain for the sweet little girl you have), you know your wife would somehow manage to get shared custody. You don’t know which is worse- having to put up with your abusive wife’s behaviors, or worrying about your daughter when it isn’t your time with her. 

“Glad to see you can do one thing right,” Carrie rolls her eyes, not so much as kissing you back. 

“Th-thank you,” you mumble and kiss her temple. “I’m going to get Millie set up with her homework for tonight, but then I’ll be back to make dinner, okay?”

Your wife just huffs. You’re not really sure what to do. “Or I can start dinner and have her do her homework after?”

“I don’t give a shit what you do.”

You sigh softly and make your way to the cabinets to prepare dinner again. Once dinner is in the oven, you help Millie with the math homework that Melissa had assigned at the dining room table, and then you’re plating dinner. You set three platters out on the dining room table, one in front of your wife, when she stands abruptly.

“That looks awful,” is all she tells you before walking away. You can hear her climbing the steps a few seconds later.

“It looks yummy, Momma,” Millie tells you softly. She gives you a warm smile that melts away some of the ice in your heart. 

“Thank you, baby,” you give her a tired smile. “Eat up, hun.”

Your little girl follows your soft order, and a few minutes later Carrie appears again in an entirely different outfit.

“I’m going out.”

“I thought you would stay for dinner?” you ask quietly. “I made your favorite.”

“And I told you it looks awful.” She grabs her purse from her chair and leaves without another word.

“I love you,” you call after her, although you know those words are said out of habit, the meaning behind them lost long ago. You don’t get a response. 

It’s not easy getting your daughter ready for bed that night. She downright refuses to sleep in her own room. So you allow her to curl up on your chest in your own room once you’ve changed and prepared yourself for bed. Carrie still isn’t home.

“Is Mom coming home tonight?” Millie asks you quietly as she twirls your hair in her fingers.

“I’m sure she is,” you tell her quietly. “But I think my little girl needs to catch some shut eye if we’re going to be up and out of the house on time again for school.”

Your daughter yawns against you. “I don’t want her to come home. I wish it was just me and you.”

You briefly pause the circular motion your hand is making on Millie’s back as you take in what she said. How are you supposed to respond to that? You have no idea. So you don’t. You just begin to softly sing, knowing your voice is always able to lull the seven year old to sleep. It’s always been that way- from the time you and Carrie brought her home from the hospital. 

It doesn’t take long for your daughter’s soft snores to fill the air, and only then do you allow the damn to break, and you begin to cry in earnest. Your body is wracked with silent sobs that you force yourself to choke down, lest you wake your little girl while you’re like this. She would not fall asleep again that night if she woke up to you in this state. How did your life come to this? How did your life become a hole in the ground that you can’t see out of- that you feel like you’re being buried alive in? How did you become a shell of the woman that you used to be? 

Eventually exhaustion takes over, and your brain finally slows down enough for you to fall asleep. Carrie still isn’t home.

Meanwhile, Melissa is desperately searching for ways to help you. Logically, she knows what Barbara said is true- she can’t fully step in unless you admit it all and ask for help, or Millie is in danger and child protective services needs to be called. Good God does she pray that the latter never comes. She’s had a soft spot for your daughter from the beginning, a bright shining light with the sweetest smile and kindest soul- and that was before she knew everything that was happening behind closed doors. That doesn’t mean she can stop trying to figure out ways to help support you in any way she can. She’s up late into the night researching what to say to you, what to avoid saying to you, how to get you to see that what is happening is not okay (she’s fairly certain you’re aware of that, and she spends a long time contemplating what could keep you from leaving), and how to just generally show you that she is on your side and will help be there for you in any way she can. When push comes to shove, Melissa can do everything she can to help you through this less than ideal (hellish) situation, but only you can make the decision to leave. The hardheaded woman silently promises herself that she’ll take a better approach to this situation now that she’s more informed. Starting tomorrow, she’ll treat you as the many websites had instructed her to.

Carrie comes home that night smelling of booze, cigarettes, and the perfume of another woman. She stumbles her way into the room in such a way that despite the fact that you are utterly exhausted, you still wake with a small jolt. You immediately pull Millie closer to you, gripping her a bit tighter. Your eyes stay closed.

Your wife continues on in her drunken state, grumbling about how she can’t wait to take off her damned bra. You hear her clothing being thrown into the laundry bin, and then as she’s stumbling over to the bed, she falls. She falls over the jeans that you had haphazardly discarded from your body while getting ready for bed. The sticky note that your daughter’s teacher had given you earlier in the day just barely sticks out of your back pocket, but the lime green color stands out amongst the midst of the darkness.

Carrie pulls the note out of your pocket, looks it over, and sees absolute red. Before you know what’s happening, your already bruised over cheek stings more than it already has been. Your eyes fly open, and a sharp cry falls from your lips.

“What the fuck is this?” your wife screams in your face.

If Millie wasn’t woken by your small shout, she certainly is awake now. Her eyes snap open.

“Millie, go to your room,” you get out quickly. “Now.”

“What the fuck is this?” Carrie continues to loom over you, and you know that whatever is about to happen to you is not going to be good. Your wife is too intoxicated to notice that your daughter is in your arms. That, or she has taken notice to it and just doesn’t seem to care anymore.

“Amelia, now!” you shout when the little girl only clings to you tighter. You pry her off of you and practically force her off the bed. She runs out of the room quickly.

Millie doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t know what to do. Your phone is in your room with you, and the landline has been gone since the telephone company tried to raise your rates. She can’t do anything as much as she might want to. You would flip if she tried to leave the house in order to get help, and she knows she can’t enter the room again. Not with the urgency that you rushed her out of there with. She’s helpless, absolutely helpless. She can’t help you. Tears begin to pour down her face as she makes her way to her bedroom, desperately searching for her headphones to drown out the sounds of your cries and pleas for it to stop.

“Who the fuck is Melissa, and how long has this been going on?!” Carrie shouts out you, enraged. She throws your already sore body to the ground. “What the fuck?!” The lamp from her side of the bed very narrowly misses your head and shatters against the wall.

“It’s nobody!” you insist.

“Then why the fuck is she telling you she’s here when you’re ready?! Are you planning on leaving me?!”

“N-no,” you stammer out. “No. Carrie, I love you. I would never. I would never.”

“Then what the fuck does she want?!”

You bite the bullet. “It’s Millie’s teacher,” is all you can get out before your wife flies into another fit of rage.

“You’re fucking her teacher?!”

“No!” you cry. “She was just letting me know that if I need help with transportation for Millie, she’s here to help!”

Somehow, by some Grace of God, that gets through to her. You had thought with your weak excuse for that note, you would only be struck harder. “What?”

“She- she knows that sometimes my boss holds me later than he should,” you manage to grit out as you pick yourself up from the floor. “I- I don’t even know why she signed it ‘Melissa’ and not ‘Miss Schemmenti’.” That part of your statement is truthful. 

Carrie’s face falls. Her eyes turn soft, the softness that she used to look at you with appears for the first time in a long time. “Y- you’re not cheating on me?”

“No,” you sigh softly as you sit down on the bed gingerly. You grimace. You had hit your tailbone on the floor in the midst of your wife’s rage. That’s going to hurt tomorrow. You bite your tongue and don’t mention that while you would never cheat- you’re certain Carrie is cheating on you, and probably with multiple women.

“I- I’m sorry,” Carrie whispers as she crawls onto the bed next to you and pulls you into her arms. She kisses your temple gently, like she used to back when things were good.

You shrug and look at her with blank eyes. “It’s okay.”

It’s far from okay, and you know that. But if you say anything else, you know it will only turn into flames again.

“L- let’s just go to bed.”

So, you do. You lay down, and she holds you tenderly. She kisses the back of your neck lightly. You have to fight the hurt and anger that you want to let out. Instead of fighting or rolling away from her, you close your eyes.

Your alarm clock goes off far earlier than you had hoped. You groan in pain at the soreness all over your body. Your tailbone hurts like hell. But life doesn’t stop, and motherhood certainly will never give you a break, so you limp your way down the hall to Millie’s room.

When you expect to see your daughter asleep surrounded by the mountain of stuffed animals that she insists on keeping on her bed, you find her mattress bare. Your heart flies into your throat for a split second, before you see just the tips of her toes peeking out from under the bed.

Grunting as you lower yourself to the floor, you see that she’s sprawled out on the ground with a singular blanket laying over her, and her headphones planted firmly over her ears. Gently, so as not to startle her, you begin to rub what you can reach of her calf to wake her. You hear a soft groan before wide blue eyes meet your own.

“Mill,” you sigh softly.

“Momma!” she cries as she rips off her headphones and scrambles out from under her bed and comes barreling for you.

Instinctively, you put your arms up defensively. “Millie, no!”

Your daughter freezes. You’ve never denied her a morning snuggle before. “Momma?” Her tone absolutely shatters your heart.

“I’m okay,” you tell her. “Just sore.”

She frowns. “C-can I cuddle, or no?”

“Just very gentle, please,” you say softly. “And only for a few minutes. We have to be getting ready for school soon. I promised Miss Schemmenti I would get you there on time and pick you up on time.”

This morning is a stark contrast to what your mornings usually are. Millie is quiet. She’s not the happy little girl that she usually is in the early day. She doesn’t twirl around and giggle when she puts on her skirt like always. You know she knows what happened last night. You can only pray she doesn’t say anything to her teacher today about what happened.

She doesn’t even have to ask you to walk into the school with her. You know that after what took place, if you don’t obediently take her in as she silently pleads, it will be waterworks galore. So you limp your way into the building, down the halls, and into the second grade classroom.

Millie doesn’t greet her teacher. Instead, she clings to you as you lead her over to her desk. Melissa watches the strange behaviors closely.

“I’ll be back to pick you up at the end of the day,” you promise your little girl with a kiss pressed to the side of her head. 

You stand up straight, not even hiding the pain that you’re in. You turn to face the desk that her teacher was sitting in just mere seconds ago, although she isn’t there. Instead, she’s in front of you.

“Y/N,” the redhead says softly. “If I could talk to you in the hallway for a second?”

You brace yourself for the berating that you know you’re bound to get when you enter the hall. Instead, you’re met with a warmth that you’ve only recently seen. Melissa begins to speak just how the guides had told her to. About halfway through, you stop her gently.

“Please,” you whisper, tears threatening to spill over. “Please, stop trying to help me.”

“Why would I do that?” she asks you quietly, almost in a hurt way.

“B-because,” you sigh softly. “Because it’s only hurting me.” And with that, you turn on your heel, and you limp out of the building. Melissa can only watch, mouth agape, as she tries to decipher what that could possibly mean.

TAGS (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon

[86espresso]

💌 roommate!jack (loml)

part 2 part 3 suggestive lolololol

(au??)

gets you pads & chicken wings and ur like?? and he’s like ‘you said get pads with wings :)’ and then you cry

subconsciously makes a meal for two every time he cooks bc you’re always studying

you instantly hit it off with him because why not and it’s like, immediate besties

*you walk out in a pretty outfit* “look at you! where you goin’?” “dinner with the girls!!” “dinner with the girlss!! do a twirl f’me.” (FUCJ FUCKLPSJW)

“where’s my favorite black shirt? swear I left it on the counter.” “…” “jack?” “I swear I had no idea- look, I spilled orange juice and your shirt looked like a rag-” “so then you threw it in the washer, right?” “It’s in the trash I’m SO sorry” “you’re done.”

“Dude, I need the best fuckin cuddles you can offer right now.”

(#2) listening to you yap while you sit on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs back and forth.

massaging each other after hard days >>>

“I specifically put protein shakes on the grocery list.” “I didn’t look at the grocery list!” “Why? Why- why not?” “I didn’t think I’d need it, sorry babe.” and he can’t even be mad anymore bc you called him BABE.

friday movie nights and you inch closer every time until you’re practically on top of him and u both don’t (do) care.

the one time he puts you to work in the kitchen & you cut your finger on a knife: “shit, mshit fuck- christ, I’m so sorry. Shit, c’mere.” cleans you off properly and puts on a bandaid. (maybe he kisses your finger and that’s when you both realize that you’re stupidly in love or maybe he doesn’t.) kitchen off limits fr now

knows that you hate thunder so you wordlessly crawl to his bed whenever there’s a storm and he wordlessly lifts his sheets so you can get under them. wordless cuddling. wordless lil forehead kisses.

(#2) “did you eat today?” texts when he’s on roadies that make you want to smash ur head against a wall.

^ *when you get together eventually* “this is what a healthy relationship is like?” when he runs you a bath with rose petals & a bath bomb the night before one of your finals and kisses you all over ur face.

“you need to let me in when you’re upset, okay? I care about you and I want to help.”

“so.. I think you’re pretty adjusted to new jersey now (2 years).. maybe it’s time for me to move out? you probably want your own place now-” “wtf ? you idiot this is your apartment and the only way you’re getting rid of me is by getting rid of my cold, dead body.” “you could’ve just said you want me to stay-” “I want you to stay. I need you here.” (owbskhelenlop)

Jack’s thoughts when he unintentionally gets you obsessed with hockey and you start spitting random facts at random time: what have I created. (she’s such a nerd I want to fuck her.)

just as you’re about to walk into your apartment, he comes out and shuts the door behind him abruptly. ur like “oh.. do you- have someone over? I could come back later.” and he doesn’t want to ruin the surprise decorations he had up for your birthday so he says “yes” and you’re in TURMOIL until you find out what the surprise is

”you gave me a home. a sense of familiarity in a new city. a support system for whenever I couldn’t deal with myself. you think I wouldn’t do everything I possibly could, for you?”

he kisses your cheek/forehead every time he enters a room and bypasses r like “???” until it’s common

literally nothing changes after you get together except your ‘outings’ are now dates.

*makes a bite of his food and brings it over to you* “wh-” “open up. all you ate today was a snickers bar.” FEEDS YOU

the amount of inside jokes you both have is crazy. you love that you’ve found someone you can fall over laughing with.

strictest rule in the apartment: no raising voices at each other.

obsessed with your laugh

silly lil arguments that have you rolling on the floor a minute later

play fighting rahh

^ giggling when you attack his face with kisses

“teach me to skate?” jack’s brain: osntdiebdyes yehstseyssy yesyes ye (he gets to hold your hand). “sure.”

/your first time/ “you don’t know how much I used to wish these pretty noises were bein’ made ‘cause of me every time you brought someone else home, and now they are.”

when you moan his name for the first time he goes like batshit insane, has you in tears after three rounds.

not before absolutely devouring you. “patience, baby, I want my cock inside of you too but I need to taste you first. may I, baby?” (he’s already pulling your panties down) (both hands on the phone!:+*)

pt 2 maybee after obsessed jack pt 2 🙂‍↕️

ily!

[pickingupmymercedes]

A smile like that - Lewis Hamilton

NSFW part 2 - Utterly gone

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: playful, silly and sassy

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Lewis was smiling and so were we❤️❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

I should’ve known what would happen the moment I sent that text.

So, the secret ingredient to you is a shitty Friday and some drama, then?

When Lewis has something to prove, he really proves it. Not just to himself, to the entire world.

And in typical Lewis’s fashion, he doesn’t miss an opportunity to boost about it, even when I’m literally working.

I’m properly miffed as I storm into his driver’s room—no knock, no warning. Just righteous annoyance, fully loaded and ready to fire.

I can’t let him get away with this one, I tell myself. Not today.

Not after that ridiculous Instagram post. I was working, for God’s sake. Interviewing drivers, doing my actual job. And he’s out there, posting photos like it’s some romantic movie.

I should stay mad at him for at least a good ten minutes, minimum. Really drive the point home this time.

But as I catch sight of him, slouched on the couch with that ridiculous grin, my resolve wavers.

Damn it. It’s like trying to stay mad at Roscoe.

He’s still in his Mercedes shir, looking far too pleased with himself, his braids peeking out from under his cap, sweat glistening on his forehead.

Honestly, it should be illegal for someone to look that good after sweating like they do on those cars.

“Oh, hey, love,” he says casually, not even bothering to look up.

Oh, we’re going with casual now.

I close the door with a deliberate click and lean against it, crossing my arms. “Do you want to explain yourself?”

He finally looks up, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What?”

I scoff, unfolding my arms as I march toward him, pulling out my phone with the offending evidence.

“This” I practically shove the screen in his face. It’s his Instagram post, the one where he posted a photo of himself gazing down at me in the media pen with: Had to make sure her smile was also because of me.

It takes all my restraint not to groan aloud. Because honestly, the audacity.

Lewis leans back, completely unfazed, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You were smiling though?”

“That’s not the point, Lewis,” I deadpanned, even though, yes, I was smiling.

But of course I was. It’s impossible not to when he’s around, and that’s exactly the problem?

I hate how he does this to me. One minute, I’m determined to stay mad, the next, I’m grinning like an idiot just because he threw me a smile. It’s infuriating, and yet…

Yet here I am, standing in front of him, and no matter how much he drives me up the wall my traitorous heart does a little somersault because he’s sitting there, giving me that crooked smile like he’s some damn rom-com lead who just said the most heart-melting thing in the world.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together like he’s gearing up for a negotiation. “It’s totally the point.”

I blink at him. “You seriously posted this just to see if I’d show up here?”

“Well…” He pauses, his eyes flickering over my face as if he’s gauging just how annoyed I really am. “That, and because of your text earlier. You know, the one about my shitty Fridays ?”

I raise a brow. “That was sarcasm.”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums, not buying it for a second. “I was just making sure you had a smile like that for me, too.”

God, he’s infuriating.

I huff, but it’s weak. “You know, I was working. Like, interviewing drivers. Doing my job.”

Lewis stands up, taking slow, deliberate steps until he’s standing right in front of me, way too close for comfort—except it’s always comfortable with him. “And one of us was making sure the most important person in the room was smiling.”

Oh. Great. He’s bringing out the charm now.

“You’re unbelievable” I mutter, but there’s no heat behind it anymore.

“And yet, you’re here” he says, stepping even closer, his hand brushing against mine.

I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch, betraying me. “Don’t get used to it.”

He smirks. “Too late”

I let out a long-suffering sigh, even as my heart betrays me, pounding a little faster.

His hands find my waist, warm and steady, and with one gentle tug, I’m pulled into him.

I tell myself I’m still annoyed, but the way his fingers trace small circles against my back makes it impossible to hold on to that thought for long.

The scent of sweat and his signature cologne fills the small space between us, and I hate how comforting it feels.

I should be making a point here.

Instead, I find myself leaning into him, my cheek pressing against his chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat grounding my own.

Because it’s Lewis, and no matter how annoying or cocky or insufferable he is in these moments, I’m always going to melt when he holds me like this.

And should I say it? The words are there, right on the tip of my tongue.

Once I say them, there’s no going back to the easy banter, no covering it up with another snarky remark.

But he deserves to hear it. Especially today.

I lift my head slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. His teasing grin has softened, replaced by something quieter, something that makes my chest tighten.

“You know,” I murmur, my voice a little more vulnerable than I intended, “I’m really proud of you.”

He freezes for just a second, his eyes searching mine. And then his grip tightens, just slightly, like he’s anchoring himself. “Yeah?” His voice is soft, cautious, like he doesn’t quite believe it yet.

“Yeah.” I nod, the corners of my lips tugging upward despite myself. “Never doubted you, not for a second.”

For a moment, something flickers across his eyes, and I know this means more to him than he’s letting on.

Lewis can put on a front, make jokes, tease all he wants, but deep down, this sport is his entire world, and today had been a good day.

After a Friday where nothing went right, after a car that was fighting him every step of the way, he still pulled through. And I’m proud. Proud because I know how much it takes, how much he gives.

He lets out a breath, resting his forehead against mine. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

I grin. “Part of the job, remember?”

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against my skin. “I’m still gonna hold you to that smile thing, though.”

I snort. “You’re so needy.”

It’s ridiculous how comfortable being in his arms is—how easy it feels, even if it shouldn’t.

I tilt my head back slightly to meet his gaze again, my hand sliding up his chest to rest just above his heart.

“So,” I say, my tone casual but laced with a hint of something more, “tomorrow…”

His eyes darken with interest. “Yeah?”

I give him a coy smile. “I could make it worth your while if you get a win.”

He raises a brow, his grip on my waist tightening. “Oh? And what exactly does ‘worth my while’ entail?”

I shrug, playing it cool. “Guess you’ll have to win to find out.”

He groans dramatically, leaning his forehead against mine again. “Now I’ve got pressure.”

“You love it though” I tease, throwing his words back at him.

He pulls back slightly, eyes narrowing playfully. “I’m holding you to this.”

“Good. But this is if you win.”

He pouts, an exaggerated look of defeat crossing his features. “Podiums are awesome too! Come on, at least give me top three.

I tilt my head, pretending to think about it. “Hmm, tempting… but no.”

He shakes his head, but he’s grinning now, his dimple making an appearance. “You’re ruthless.”

“And you love it” I say again, and this time, I mean it in more ways than one.

“Okay,” he says, his tone amused “but when I win, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You’re that confident?”

He smirks, leaning in just close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. “You just gave me one more reason to be.”

There it was again, that damn confidence. How was I ever supposed to resist that?

The heat of his body seeps into mine, making my pulse quicken, and for a second, I realize he’s the one with all the control here.

“Good,” I murmur, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before stepping back, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. “Now go do whatever it is you do here.”

He watches me with amusement as I head toward the door. “Leaving already?”

“Yeah. Some of us have work”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable”

“Stole my line Hamilton” I glance over my shoulder, giving him a wink “But now you’re the one smiling.”

______________________________________________________________

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[mylifesjustacarousel]

bridget’s sister

pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested!)

summary: being bridget’s sister, everyone has their preconceived notions about you, but they couldn’t be more wrong. what happens when the shy princess and the arrogant pirate get paired up for an assignment?

type: fluff

CW: none

WC: 4.7k

part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | requests are open! sorry for the long wait! <3 (not proofread!)

You were Bridget’s younger sister, only a year apart. Most people hate when they live in the shadow of their older siblings, but you felt that, that was far from the truth for you. You were very shy and kept to yourself, so you relished being in the shadow of your older sister. It kept the attention off of you. Not that there was ever much on you, though. You and Bridget weren’t exactly the most popular people ever. But, you both had Ella.

The three of you were sat in Bridget’s room, you on Bridget’s bed while the two girls were baking. “How was school today, y/n? Anything fun happen?” Bridget asked. She sort of acted as a mother figure for you ever since you had arrived at Merlin Academy. Being on your own was hard, but having your older sister around, and her best friend, made it a bit easier. You had a hard time making friends of your own, even back in Wonderland you didn’t have very many friends. But, you liked it that way. It made life less complicated.

“It was okay.” You shrugged. “Alchemy was pretty fun, but we got our first partnered assignment today.” She looked over at you, a puzzled look on her face. “Why is that bad? You love Alchemy!”

“I do, but uh, it’s my partner that’s really the issue.” you mumbled the last bit, your cheeks turning a bright pink. Ella giggled, popping the cupcakes that they had made into the oven. “Uh oh, does somebody have a crush on their partner? Who is it?” she asked. You just blushed more, grabbing one of Bridget’s pillows and burying your face in it. “I can’t say, it’s awful!” you exclaimed, your words muffled by the pillow.

Bridget sat down next to you, gently running her hand along your back. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell us. But, maybe we can help you out.”

“James Hook.” you said, your face still buried into the pillow. Ella raised a brow. “Who? We can’t hear you when you have a face full of pillow.” You groaned, sitting up as you mustered up the courage to even say his name.

“Hook. James Hook. He’s my partner.”

Ella’s eyes widened. “Him? He’s bad news, y/n. Not to mention, he hates us.” You flopped back onto the bed, covering your face with the pillow again. “I know! It’s terrible!”

“You can’t help who you like,” Bridget said, “What makes you like him?”

“I don’t know!” you whined, tossing the pillow across the room. “I know he’s mean, and I know he’s cold hearted. But, when I see him, it’s like my heart is riding a rollercoaster that’s going faster than the speed of light. He’s just so… him.”

“Maybe he could use someone to help warm up his little dead heart.” Ella shrugged. Bridget gently hit her arm, giving her a playful glare. “Ooh! Could I set up a date for you two? I just got a new cookbook, I could make you some desserts to bring!”

You sat up once more, quickly shaking your head. “No, you cannot get involved in this. It’s just a silly little crush, it’ll go away… I hope. There will be no dates, and there will be no desserts. If there’s one thing I’m not doing, it’s absolutely humiliating myself.”

“Well… why don’t you bring him a cupcake tomorrow?” Bridget asked.

“I am not putting a love spell on him, B.”

“Fine!”

You sat in your seat, your palms practically an ocean with how much they were sweating. The rest of the students were filing into the classroom, and you were silently praying that Hook wouldn’t even bother to show up today. But your prayers were quickly squashed when the brunette pirate sat next to you with a huff. Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, you couldn’t even look at him or else your heart would actually explode.

“Alright, class! Get with your partners and start on the assignment. I suggest you work with each other outside of class as well for the presentation portion of the project.” Merlin announced before going to his desk.

“Um, are you ready?” you asked, pulling out your notebook and assignment guidelines. “I didn’t bring any of that stuff.” He gestured to all of the books you had pulled out. “Oh! Um, well here!” You set a few pieces of paper and a pencil in front of him.

You stood up, pulling out the ingredients for the potion you were making. Hook stood next to you, his arm brushing against your shoulder. “I’m not really sure how to do… any of this. I can’t say I really care for this class.” he said.

“Okay! Well, I actually really really like this class, so don’t even worry about it,” you rambled on, “I will do most of it, just focus on taking notes.”

Hook watched you carefully as you poured ingredients into the cauldron. Well, he couldn’t care less about the assignment, he was mostly focused on you. The concentrated look on your face, the way your mouth moved silently when you were talking to yourself. He thought you were a little strange, but quite charming.

You felt his eyes on you, and it took everything in you to not look over at him. It’s just a silly little crush… or maybe a silly big crush. The two of you had never really spoken before you got partnered up, but you would see him walking around the school. His gorgeous smile, and the way he carried himself with confidence… arrogance, really. You knew that you should despise him, but you couldn’t help yourself. There had to be more than what he showed on the surface.

“Can you hand me the griffin claw?” you asked in your usual mousy tone. Hook snapped out of his trance, looking around. “Hmm? Oh, there it is.” He picked up the griffin claw, handing it over to you. You quietly thanked him, stirring up the potion.

Merlin kept a close eye on the two of you. He knew how Hook was, and that was why he partnered him up with you. He watched as you did all of the work as Hook sat there, the paper he was supposed to be taking notes on almost completely blank. He got up, going over to you two.

“I see that you two are almost done. That’s quite impressive. But, in order for you both to get credit during the presentation, you both need to do the work.” Merlin looked towards you. “I highly recommend that you two get together after school for a tutoring session. Maybe you could get Mr. Hook to actually pass this class.”

Hook sneered, picking up the pencil and jotting down unreadable notes. He had absolutely terrible handwriting. “I mean it, James.” Merlin said, walking back to his desk.

“I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” you mumbled. “It’s fine. So… your place or mine?” he asked.

Your eyes widened and your head turned to look in his direction. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Did I stutter, darling? Where are we meeting up later?”

Your heart melted at the pet name. How could someone be so awful, but so perfect at the same time?

Before your brain could even process the question, your mouth was already moving. “My place, come around six. Bring a notebook.” You tore off a piece of one of the papers that you gave him, writing down your dorm building and room number for him.

Oh, god. What did I just do? you thought.

“You what?!” Ella exclaimed, a look of absolute shock on her face.

“I invited Hook over to my room to study, and now I’m really freaking out!” You were pacing back and forth, your hands running through your own hair. “I don’t even know why I did that! My mouth started moving before my brain could even think! Oh god, this is going to end terribly! Should I cancel? I should cancel!”

“No, don’t cancel!” Bridget went over to you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “It’s clear that this is something that you want, y/n. You can’t stop love. You can repress it, but you can’t stop it. So don’t cancel. Just… be careful. Uli’s friends can be a little…”

“Mean. They can be mean and vicious.” Ella finished her sentence. “We’ll be here. If he tries anything, you know where to find us.”

“Oh, I feel like I’m gonna yak. Do I look okay? Please tell me I look okay!” you whined, straightening out your clothes. Bridget smiled, brushing your hair out of your face. “You look as beautiful as always. It’s going to be fine. You two will study and then he’ll leave. Why don’t you take a cupcake for the road? They’re strawberry shortcake, a new recipe.”

You sighed, looking over at the tray of freshly baked cupcakes. “What if this doesn’t go well? I can’t have the rest of the VKs after me, I literally will not survive.” Bridget cupped your cheeks. “You’re an amazing girl, you can do anything. It’s just studying, it’s not like it’s a date… even though I really want to plan one for you. I’m serious, I have a whole list of ideas.”

“It’s not happening, Bridg.”

“It could. You never knowwww!” she said in a singsong. You playfully rolled your eyes, picking two cupcakes up off of one of the many golden platters. “Okay, I’m going. If this doesn’t end well, at least I get a cupcake to eat.”

“Good luck! Make sure you swing by after to tell us how it went.” Bridget fixed your hair once more before leading you to the door. “Go get him!”

You pulled out your textbooks and cauldron, getting everything organized for Hook’s arrival. You seemed calm and collected on the outside, but it was like a million alarms were going off inside your head.

He doesn’t feel that way about you, he doesn’t even know you. It’s just a tutoring session.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock on the door. Oh god, he’s here. You looked at yourself in the mirror, deeming yourself presentable before opening the door. “Hi , James. Um, come on in. Make yourself comfortable.”

Hook strolled in, his eyes darting around your room as he looked at all of your decor. “It’s very girly in here.” he commented as he sat down on your bed. “Um… thank you?” you replied, “So, I thought we could start with some reading and then you could practice working on the potion… or anything.”

Picking up one of the textbooks, you sat down next to him. Well, as close as you could get to him without feeling like you were going to spontaneously combust. You opened up the book to the page that explained the potion that the two of you were working on. “Um, it’s a pretty simple potion. One of the easier ones, actually.”

Hook scooted closer to you, reading the text over your shoulder. You could feel his breath hitting your cheek from how close he was. Not to mention, he smelled surprisingly incredible. “Okay, so, uh…” you mumbled. Your brain was completely short circuiting.

“Are you… alright?” he asked. You quickly snapped out of it, standing up and going over to your desk that you had set the cauldron up on. “Yup, never better!” You nervously giggled. “Just… take a look around while I finish setting up? I find hands on learning is a lot more effective.” He nodded and got up, quietly wandering around your room. His eyes landed on the tray of cupcakes that was on your nightstand. “Cupcakes? Do you bake?” he asked.

“Hmm? Oh no, not me. Those are, uh, from my sister. She’s the baker.” you explained, “You can try one, if you want! Or not, whatever you want!” Hook laughed to himself, picking up one of the cupcakes.

Oh god, even his laugh is gorgeous.

“Is your sister the cupcake girl? The one with the pink hair?” he asked, his mouth full of cupcake. You froze, looking over at him. It wasn’t a secret in the slightest, but the VKs hated Bridget.

“Um… yes.”

“Hmm…” he mumbled, “You’re not anything like her. Wouldn’t have guessed if it wasn’t for the cupcake.” You pulled the rest of the ingredients out, trying to hide your face as it turned the shade of a tomato. “Um, is that a problem or something? Because if that’s a problem then I don’t think this is going to work.”

Hook shook his head quickly. “No, no! Just… making an observation. You don’t have to be so skittish all the time, I’m not gonna hurt you.” You quickly relaxed. “Okay, you’re right… Let’s just get to work.”

He went over to you, looking over all of the ingredients on the table. “You just have all of this stuff? Are you like a witch or something?” he teased. “Definitely not a witch. I don’t know, I just really like alchemy. It’s kind of like baking, but instead of desserts you can turn someone into a frog. Not that I ever have, though.”

“Seems like you really know your stuff. Well, show me how it’s done, princess. You’re probably my only hope of passing this class.”

“Okay… do you even know anything about alchemy?” you asked.

Hook shook his head. “Nope. Not a clue, lass.”

You sighed, opening your book back up. “Okay! It’s a super simple potion, you could probably do it with your eyes closed. It’s a rejuvenation spell. It makes things younger, or like new. You’re going to practice on…” You looked around your room before spotting a vase of dead flowers. You picked them up, bring them over to the table. “These. They’re well past their expiration date.”

He looked at the book, mumbling the ingredients list to himself as he picked up the labeled jars and started pouring ingredients in. You carefully watched him, reaching out and grabbing his hand when he almost put an incorrect ingredient in. “No! No, not that one. That one will make it go kaboom.”

Hook’s eyes glanced down at your hand, how it was so much smaller and daintier than his. He cleared his throat, pulling his hand away and setting the jar down. “Thanks. We definitely don’t want that.” You picked up the correct jar, handing it to him. “This one, but only a tiny amount. A little goes a long way.”

He poured it in as you grabbed the griffin claw. “Here, use this to stir it. Stir it slowly, if you stir it too fast you could completely ruin the potion.” you said. Hook nodded, taking the griffin claw from you. “Well, why don’t you help me? Just so I don’t ruin it, y’know?”

“Oh! Um, okay!” You wrapped your hand around his, your body pressed against his side as you helped him stir it. “Just like this, okay?”

“Just like that.” he mumbled, his body leaning into yours. You two stood there for a solid minute, just stirring the potion in silence. It was weird and strange, but something about it felt right. Once the potion turned a bright purple, you pulled away. “Okay! Um, here. We’ll pour it into here.” You pulled out a small spritzer bottle, opening it up. Hook helped you pour the potion into the bottle and you closed it up, handing it to him.

“Just spritz it on the flowers, like you’re watering plants.” you explained, putting the vase of wilted flowers in front of him. “If I spritz it on myself will I turn into, like, a baby or something?” he asked.

“Do not do that. Just water the flowers, James.”

He giggled, spritzing the flowers with the potion. Within seconds, the once dead flowers had practically sprung to life. Hook grinned, picking up one of the flowers and examining it. “These look incredible. Here, for you.” He extended his arm, offering the flower to you. “For being a great teacher.” You blushed, taking the flower from him. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, James. Didn’t think you had that kind of side to you.”

“I’m full of surprises, Ms. Wonderland. Like, for instance… I can juggle, or at least I used to be able to. I could juggle.” You set the flower back into the vase. “I’m sorry if this comes off the wrong way, but why’re you being so… nice?”

Hook scoffed, but you could tell that it was in more of a playful way. “I’m mean, not heartless. You’re helping me pass this class, and I appreciate it.”

“Well… I’m always here to help.” You started to clean up the ingredients on your desk. Hook sat on your bed, watching you. “Why’re you so shy? I mean, you and your sister are so… different.”

You shrugged. “I’ve always been this way. It was hard making friends back home, I never really felt like I fit in. So, I just… shut everyone out. Can’t have a hard time making friends if you stop trying. It’s been a little easier since coming here, but I just prefer keeping to myself, y’know? Makes everything less complicated.”

“I see. Well, I know that you already think about me in a certain way. But, I would like to think that we’re friends of some sort.”

“Your friends would hate me, James. I appreciate it, but I think that that’s a bad idea.” you sighed, finishing putting the rest of the jars away. “Um, you can go, if you’d like. You don’t have to stick around.”

Hook stayed where he was. “No, I think I’ll stay here. We’re friends, now whether you want us to be or not. So, come here, let’s talk.”

You hesitated before sitting down next to him. “We have nothing in common. You’re doing this just to prove some sort of point.” He took your hand in his. “I know that I have a very bad track record, and I know that I’m not exactly the greatest person. But, I think you’re nice. You’re nice, even when you definitely shouldn’t be.”

Your heart felt like it was running a marathon in that moment. Your hand felt so tiny and fragile in his. The coldness of the rings on his fingers brought you back to reality. “It’s getting late, James, curfew is gonna start soon.” You got up, going over to the door. “I will see you in class on Thursday, don’t forget what I taught you.”

He got up, making his way over to you. “Thank you for being a great teacher. I’ll see you around.” he said, winking at you before walking out. You shut the door behind him, sinking to the floor. If anything, your crush had gotten worse. You waited a few minutes to make sure Hook was gone before getting up and racing to Bridget’s room.

“Okay, okay! How’d it go?” Bridget asked, leading you to her bed to sit down. “There are no tears, so that’s a very good sign.” You groaned, flopping back onto her bed. “It was awful, B! He was so nice and he said that we’re friends!”

Ella and Bridget looked at each other with pure confusion. “I don’t think you know what awful means.” Ella said. You sat up, “I wanted my crush to be gone! But, he held my hand and he gave me a flower! A flower!” you exclaimed.

“It sounds like he has a little bit of a crush too.” Bridget pointed out. “Why don’t you tell him how you feel?”

“And risk getting rejected and humiliated? Yeah, I think I’ll pass. It’s just a stupid crush, it will go away.” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your fists. Bridget rubbed your back. “You can’t just will your feelings away. I think that you should talk to him about it.”

“I…” you trailed off. “I will think about it. But, I just don’t think I can do that to myself. I can’t be hurt like that.” Bridget pulled you into a hug, resting her chin on the top of your head. “You’re an amazing girl, as well as the best little sister I could possibly ask for. If he doesn’t think that you’re amazing, then he isn’t worth it. Okay? You’re great, and I want you to find someone who makes you feel that way.”

“You always know what to say, even if I don’t want you to say it.” Bridget giggled, pulling away to look at you. “I know. It’s my job as a big sister. Now, go get some sleep. You have class early in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, getting up. “Fine, mom. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Ella!” You gave them both a wave before leaving, heading back to your dorm.

It was the next day, and you were more or less avoiding Hook. Not that you didn’t appreciate your time together, but you could not look him in the eyes without feeling like your legs were about to turn to jello. You were sat at one of the many tables outside, quietly eating your lunch. From an outsiders perspective, you probably looked sad and lonely. But, you enjoyed the peace and quiet.

“Hey, lass! I’ve been looking for you all day!” Hook sat down next to you, making you almost jump out of your skin. “You scared me, Hook! Give a girl a warning!” you exclaimed. He giggled, leaning against you. “Sorry, sorry. So, how are you?”

“I’m… good?” You still didn’t understand why he was being so nice to you. Surely it had to be a part of some evil plan or something. The VKs aren’t nice to anyone. “Okay, what’s going on here? First the flower, now you’re seeking me out? Is this like a sick little mind game?”

Hook’s expression was one of hurt, but he quickly shook it off. “That’s not it at all. Ya know, I was very, how do you say… open minded about you. So why can’t you do the same?” You frowned, feeling a pit of nervousness in your stomach. “I… James, you have to understand where I’m coming from. You, um, don’t have the greatest reputation.”

“Yes, and I’m trying to show you that I’m more than that. I’m not going to lie and say that what you hear isn’t who I am, but I do have feelings.” he sighed. You sat there for a moment, just staring at him. “Okay, James. You gave me a chance, I’m going to give you one. But, just so you know, I do know how to turn you into a frog.” You hesitated for a moment before scooting closer to him. “It’s hard for me to open up to people, but if you’re going to put in the effort then I’ll do the same.”

He grinned, his eyes quickly flickering up and down as he checked you out. He didn’t even know who you were before you two got partnered up, but the night before made something click in his brain. You were shy and reserved, but when you opened up you were charming and sweet. It was a total change from the girls he usually sought, but it felt right. You were a change, a good change.

“Hey, my eyes are up here!” you giggled, nudging his arm. “If you’re gonna look at me like that, at least take me out first.” Hook shrugged, accepting your challenge. “Okay. Meet me at the lake tonight around seven. Bring a towel, don’t be late.” He got up, patting your arm before walking off. You sat there, your jaw dropped as you watched him walk away.

What just happened?

The Enchanted Lake was a pretty popular hangout spot where students went to swim and lounge on those especially hot days. You were sat on one of the many rocks, waiting for James to arrive. Your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest. You had never been on a date before, or on anything date adjacent. Was this even a date? As the minutes passed by, your mind started racing as well. He must’ve stood you up, that’s the only reasonable explanation.

“You okay, darling?”

You turned around, seeing Hook standing behind you. He was wearing a basic black t-shirt and maroon swim trunks, very different from his usual wardrobe. He looked cute. “Yeah, um, I’m fine!” You got up, going over to him. “It’s nice out tonight. Wanna go for a swim?” he asked. “Is that not why we’re here, Hook?” you replied.

He set his towel down, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it near the towel. You blushed, your eyes darting to look anywhere else. “You’re acting like I’m streaking, princess. Don’t be so shy.” He sat down on the ledge of the rock before pushing himself into the water. “Come on, it’s nice in here!”

You groaned, putting your towel down next to his before joining him. You started to shiver as the cold water touched your skin. “It is not nice, James! My legs are freezing!” you complained, wrapping your arms around yourself to maintain warmth. He swam over to you. “What’s your definition of freezing, darling?”

“This!” you exclaimed, your teeth chattering. He stood up, wrapping his arms around you. You completely froze in your spot. Hook was hugging you. His bare skin was touching yours. Your legs? Jello. Your heart? Rocketed out of your chest. “There, now you should be nice and warm.”

“Mhm.” you mumbled. It was like someone had doused the circuit board in your brain with a gallon of water. “Is this okay? I can let go.” he said, starting to pull his arms away. “No!” you exclaimed, your face bright red. “No, it’s okay.” He grinned, his hand resting on your waist.

The two of you stayed like that for a bit, your head moving to rest on his shoulder. “I’ve never done anything like this before.” you admitted, looking up at him. He looked puzzled. “I’ve, uh, never been on any sort of date before. I’m sorry if I’m being really awkward, I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

Hook reached his hand up, brushing your hair out of your face. “That doesn’t matter to me. I’m having fun. But you know what would make this even more fun?” he asked. “Going to the kitchen and making hot chocolate?” you responded hopefully. He pulled away from you, his hook resting against your back and his hand scooping your legs up. “What’re you doing, James?!” you giggled, holding onto him. He gave you a countdown from three before throwing you into the water.

When you came up to the surface, Hook swam over to you, barely able to breathe from how much he was laughing. You rolled your eyes, splashing water at his face. “Oh, come on, princess! Let loose and have some fun!” He stood up, taking your hand and pulling you closer so your chests were pressed together. “You’re a jerk, James!”

“You don’t mean that.” he teased, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Oh, I do.” you replied, your body language saying otherwise as you completely melted into his touch. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, as if he was silently asking for permission. You took a deep breath, your thoughts finally calming for the first time that night.

Screw it.

You grabbed his cheeks, standing on your tiptoes to pull him into a kiss. He immediately reciprocated, his hand running through your wet hair. His lips were soft and warm, and it was clear that he definitely had experience in the kissing department. He was one of the school’s biggest flirts, after all.

You pulled away from the kiss after what felt like centuries. “I’m sorry if that was bad, I’m new to all of this-”

“Shh, I’ve gotcha.” he whispered, his hand still lingering in your hair. “I know we don’t exactly have a lot in common. But, I would like to get to know you better. If that’s what you want.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I would like that a lot. Meet me in my dorm after class tomorrow? We could, um, watch a movie or something?”

“I would love that, princess.”

a/n: … part 2? 👀

[feyascorner]

2 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. While seeing him leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you. You should hate him, truly.

But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.

You want to see him.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. and he finally makes an appearance;,; ik the first two chapters are a bit slow but i think i can start picking up the pace now woohoo!! Reader/Tav’s feelings are supposed to be confusing on purpose but I may have overdone it a tad,,

He hadn’t had time to gather any of his belongings when he left. And while your other companions graciously rid of everything they could into a single box packed away in the corner of the basement, even they could not bring themselves to throw the handheld mirror away–whether because of the intricate designs framing its reflection that surely held value or because of your apprehension for throwing it out, you’re not sure. You haven’t used it yourself, too afraid of even touching its handle out of fear it may crumble away.

One of the orphan children that Cora’s harboring places a cup in front of you. You raise a brow at her, silently asking how Cora’s doing, and she only shakes her head solemnly before scurrying away.

“Where were you at the time of the murder?”

“They’ve already said numerous times where they were,” Lae’zel spits in the Flaming Fist’s direction. “Are all Fists this incompetent, or are you just a special case?”

You run a hand down your face while Gale attempts to calm Lae’zel. Shadowheart’s had her eyes trained on the cups perched around the table for quite some time now, occasionally glancing up to listen to the Fist’s interrogation. Unfortunately, the cups lack their usual alcohol, but you don’t complain about the water with how dry your throat is. You pat her shoulder, and she finally meets your eyes, nodding before resuming her focus on whatever the Fist is saying. You’re not sure yourself at this point.

“As Flaming Fists, we must put the guilty in their rightful place, regardless of whether they’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate or not,” he straightens his back, then narrows his brows at you. “And right now, all witnesses point here. You were seen leaving the tavern with a man reported as missing this morning. Care to explain that?”

You can hear Gale’s chair scrape against the floor. “You can’t be serious. They saved the entire city, for Mystra’s sake! If they wanted bloody murder, they would've been positively drenched in blood by now.”

However, all you feel is the searing stares of your other companions, who remain blissfully unaware of the encounters of your previous night. But you can tell they’re not accusing you, unlike the Fist—they never would—but rather demanding an explanation. You sigh deeply. “I didn’t go home with him. We spoke for almost two minutes before I left.”

“And what proof do you have of that?”

“Considering I woke up in the Blushing Mermaid, I’m sure you can do a little questioning there to find some witnesses,” you stand, the chairs of your leg scratching against the tiled floors. “Are we done here? I need to go speak with Cora, because her husband just died."

“Sit,” he hisses, his fingers reaching for his weapon. “I won’t repeat myself.”

The air becomes tense in mere seconds. It'd been uncomfortable moments ago, but not as much as this—not enough to make Lae’zel reach for her sword as she’s doing now. Your eyes narrow warningly into slits at the Fist, but his subordinates only step forward to stand on either side of him as if daring you to take another step. From the corner of your peripheral, you can see Shadowheart’s palm spark with light. The others occupying the Highberry household, even from outside on the patio, are talking in hushed whispers, all gazes trained on your very breath. And after a suffocating silence, you hear a chuckle from the door.

“Now, Yevir, we shouldn’t be treating our city’s most esteemed citizens with such hostility.”

Grand Duke Ravengard–Wyll’s father–steps into the home, shaking his head. The Fists, who were willing to go head to head with you mere seconds ago, are now turned and saluting the Duke, which makes Lae’zel scoff at your side. “You lot are dismissed under my name. Though I do have a word to exchange with the bard.”

Former bard, you want to correct him.

Your companions exchange an apprehensive glance at one another before you step forward. “And what do I owe the pleasure of speaking with the Duke?”

“You jest. We are all allies here,” he smiles. “Come, we must speak privately.”

You grin wickedly at Yevir as Ravengard steps past you toward the office in one of the other rooms. Yevir only shoots knives with his eyes, and you return the sentiments by sticking out your tongue mockingly, which earns a snort from Shadowheart. Then you quickly follow after Ravengard, shutting the door behind you.

“Have you had any news from my son?” he asks, facing the window with two arms locked behind him.

“Karlach’s been sending a few letters. They’re limited, as you might expect, but they do come,” you say. “She says Wyll is doing alright. They both are.”

He lets out a breath that can’t be mistaken for anything but what it is: relief. “Good. Now, as for what went down between you and Yevir in the other room, I apologize on his behalf. He’s always been too passionate for his own good. Righteousness is admirable, but not when it blinds your judgment.”

“A lot of things can blind judgment. I don’t blame him.”

He turns to you, and despite the questioning gaze in his eyes, he ignores it. “I’m sure you’re well aware of what’s been occurring in the city—you recently received a first-hand experience.”

“So has half the people on the block, apparently.”

“I’m not talking about Cora’s husband.”

He reaches behind his back, pulling out a slim file and holding it to you. “The number of victims is increasing every day now.”

Flipping through the pages in the file, each one is etched with the murder scene of each victim. There’s one with a man haphazardly buried half in the ground, another with a woman collapsed next to the alleyway in Wyrm’s crossing, another of a man bleeding out in the fields of Rivington. You flip the pages again and again until you arrive at one you would’ve preferred to forget.

“Colin Hedgins,” Ravengard says. “Though most of the Fist, including Yuvir, is unaware, his body was found this morning.”

His silvery hair is stained with what you can only assume is blood. His face, which is stretched in horror, makes you wonder if maybe slitting his throat yourself would have given him a more peaceful leave to the afterlife. Not that he really deserved it. You swallow hard, shutting the file away. “So you think I killed him too?”

“No. In fact, I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Then why show me this? This is classified information, no?”

“Each one of these victims has one similarity aside from their brutal deaths,” he frowns. “The puncture wounds on their neck, and the fact that their bodies seem to be drained of blood.”

Your breath hitches. While you’d had your suspicions, surely not all of them could have been of vampires? With Orin and the Bhaal worshippers now defeated or retreated into the shadows, the city had gotten eons safer—this just felt like a slap to your face. One group of murderers after another, it seemed. Instead of replying, you stare at Ravengard with pursed lips, urging him to get to his point.

“Wyll has told me of your relations with the vampires,” he says, and it makes your teeth clench. “He was gone by the time I’d joined your camp, but Wyll tells me you had a vampire for a companion for most of your journey. Could he be involved in-”

“No.” The answer is fast. Almost instant. And while a part of you feels disgusted for defending him, even now, another part refuses to let you live while the city thinks of him as nothing but a bloodsucking monster. Even if everyone thought of him as one now. “He wouldn’t have.”

The worst part is that he fully could have, even if you don't want to believe it. Your mind flashes back to the way his hands had felt around your throat, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

Ravengard’s expression softens, and you see it again. Pity. Gods, you’d do anything to never see that kind of face again. “I’m also aware that you two had an—-arrangement. One that involved more than just mere friendship. But you must know if we cannot catch the vampire spawns that are running rampant in our city, dozens if not hundreds of more people will die.”

You want to tell him that he should not search for sympathy in you. Because you were once a person willing to get rid of 7000 spawns for the sake of one lover, who only ended up trying to kill you. “He won’t talk to me anyway. I’m sure you also know he didn’t leave on good terms, seeing as you seem to know everything about my love life. I can’t help you.”

The words come out snappier than expected, but Ravengard doesn’t react like he expected this.

“I see,” he says. “Then perhaps you’ll at least be able to keep an eye out. And please, report to me.”

You don’t budge.

He takes it as a sign to leave and moves toward the door. “If you do change your mind, let me know.”

You want to tell him your future is not a matter of what you want. It’s what he wants, and he’s already chosen your fate.

“And is anyone else aware that an entire horde of vampire spawn is living under the city?” Shadowheart says in exasperation. “No wonder they think Astarion’s the one who did it. They think there aren’t any more vampires here anyway! With that many vampires, imagine what destruction they could bring if they miss a few meals!”

“Surely we can convince our sharp-toothed friends to lay low in the Underdark with the others for a while? We convinced half of them. I don’t see why we can’t convince the other,” Gale suggests.

“A warrior who seeks blood shall have blood,” Lae’zel hisses. “I see no reason for them to leave. If I’d been a spawn, I would stay behind a city full of cattle than return to a place of eternal darkness.”

Your head hurts. From continuously sleeping anywhere but the comforts of your bed or from what’s going on, you don’t know, and you don’t care. You just want a nice long bath to wash the dirt on your face and a hot meal to go along with it. Your companions continue arguing, and it’s times like these when you wish Wyll and Karlach were still traveling beside you—they were usually the diffusers of the group.

To an extent, you had been too. Not anymore, though. That was the least of your worries.

“Why must we fix Astarion’s mess in the first place?” Lae’zel adjusts the sword she’d been cleaning on her lap. “We are not dogs to do his bidding. And from what I recall, we have no longer relations with him.”

This finally urges you to speak, almost instinctively. “We have to help. That’s final.”

It's not often that you reinforce your power as the appointed "leader" of the group, preferring to incorporate their opinions rather than choosing all on your own. They all turn to you with a mixture of suspicion and mostly cringe from Lae’zel. Your face flares in response. “I’m just saying we can’t just let a bunch of innocent people die!”

“Of course,” Gale coughs.

You can feel yourself losing your composure, your palms feeling clammy. Still, you straighten your back. “Astarion has nothing to do with me either. I’m doing this for the city.”

“Right.”

You opt to just clear your throat. “I’ll talk to Petras. We’ll figure out a way for all of us to be happy.”

Lae’zel rolls her eyes, but Shadowheart only raises a brow. “And how exactly are you going to find Petras? It’s not like he has a mailbox or an address.”

“I’ll figure it out. Always do,” you smile, and her face softens. “In the meanwhile, I’ll have to rely on you guys to pick up my work for rebuilding the city so I can focus on tracking him down. I don’t think it’ll take too long—maybe a week or so.”

Gale’s face knits together in concern. “And you’re quite sure you won’t need any of us to accompany you?”

“They’re fully capable of taking care of themselves, wizard,” Lae’zel snaps. “Very well, then. We’ll await good news.”

Looking back on it, perhaps you did need the help.

Days upon days of searching, yet nothing. You’re sure you covered almost half the sewers at this point, and you’re not sure if you’re just insanely unlucky or the vampires just left while you’d been searching elsewhere.

But the number of deaths says otherwise. 

So you’d turned to a new approach. If you couldn’t find them, you’d let them find you.

The days stretch longer, with the city being in its summer season. And while you’re grateful, since it means vampires will have less time to hunt, you always despise the way this cloak is sticking to your skin and the hairs that seem glued to your cheeks with the hood stifling any hope of breathing freely. Still determined, you force your legs forward into the darkest alleyways you can find.

Though you’ve had a few fruitless days, pacing aimlessly throughout the city during the dead of night into early morning, a part of yourself keens at the moonlight draping over you tonight.

It had been on a night like this, one where the clouds make way for the moonglow to illuminate what lurks in the city during the night. Though at the time, instead of the comfortable bed in the house you and your companions managed to buy after scraping enough gold together, you were sleeping on a bedroll that did little to shield you from the rocks, doing nothing to even the ground below.

Back then, your companions were nothing but that—companions on a journey you hoped to end as quickly as possible to return to the taverns and bars of Baldur’s gate, where you would spend your nights singing the familiar tunes that your patrons enjoyed most. So after the camp celebration with the Tieflings, when Astarion led you to the forest clearing where you first felt skin other than your own, you realized this adventure of yours was more than just that. It was a new stepping stone in your life.

He’d held you close to him, offering you whispers of affection while his hands ran through your hair. He’d kissed you, his hands caressing either side of your cheek. He’d let you marvel at the scars on his back, his hands resting on your waist.

The same hands that wrapped around your throat months later. You can still feel them sometimes.

Despite your speech to Gale before Cora’s husband showed up dead, you weren’t sure how you would react if you ever saw your former lover again. On nights that weren’t plagued with nightmares, you stayed up, wondering if you’d cry. If you’d reach out for him, embracing him in a hug you never wanted to let go from. If you’d let him brush his knuckles on your cheeks, if you’d let him press a kiss to your forehead, if you’d let him love you again.

You weren’t sure. And a part of you—the part shoved deep inside the corners of your heart—wonders if never seeing him again was a blessing. That regardless of the ache in your heart now, never seeing him would save you from something worse.

So deeply lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the murky figure swinging a pipe at your head.

Nearly scathing the surface of a concussion, you dodge, but he’s too fast. Before you’ve even begun reaching for your knife, the figure swings you toward the wall, and you swear you can hear it crack as your back collides with it. Your vision only manages to straighten itself once the figure has you shoved onto the ground, either of their knees on the sides of your hip. 

Instinctively, your hand flies up to stab at their arm, but you’re no match. They twist your wrist, forcing you to drop the blade, and pins either of your arms to the ground. You can’t see anything but the glint of their fangs against the light.

You’d fought vampires before, and you had never seen one so fast. So aggressive. So primal. Astarion had entertained you with friendly spars, but you’d also fought Cazador to the death. Even he hadn’t been this fast.

“I just want to talk to Petras! I’m not going to hurt you, I–” Your pleas go deaf on their ears.

When you squint, you can finally see the blood staining their fangs, and you realize that they’ve already fed.

They’re fed, and they’re still hungry.

A fed vampire, is a strong one, you remember. And if you add their hunger on top of that...

Even as you try to yank yourself away, they only squeeze their grip harder, enough to cut off blood circulation. The color drains from your face, your expression almost fearful. No, it does scare you. It scares you that this is only a spawn, but they can still attack someone so ferociously. It scares you that Astarion could have done the exact same thing to you.

The spawn yanks your head to the side with a claw on your hair, allowing them access to your throat. You thrash and kick, but to no avail, forced to watch as they’re about to sink their teeth into you. You hate your mind because even at death’s door, all you can think about is him.

Is this what he would’ve done to you had your companions not been there to save you?

Is this what he wanted to do the day he first approached you, asking for your blood?

Anger burns in your chest, and with the last bit of your strength, you lift your head and bite them first. Your teeth sink into their throat, feeling the break of skin just before they rip you away, wailing in pain as you’re carelessly tossed to the ground. As they grasp at the wound on their neck, you take the opportunity to lunge for your knife.

You feel genuine rage for the first time in what feels like forever. No self-pity, no dejection, no sorrow for losing the man you’d given everything to, but rage for the state you were reduced to just because of him. And that while his leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you.

You thrust the blade into their chest, and they stop. It’s no stake, but it’ll do for now. And as their throat gurgles with blood, all you can hear is the desperate panting of your own breath when their body falls to the ground, face first. 

You pray they’re dead.

Then, your vision in one eye blurs with red. When you lift your hand to your forehead, you feel the warm blood trailing down, probably from when you collided with the wall. The little strength left in your legs vanishes as you reel forward, your knees crashing onto the mud beside the spawn.

Though you thankfully manage to collapse on your back rather than your poor counterpart who’s probably choking on the dirt and grim of the city grounds even in death, you can feel your head going light, even as your hands tighten around the knife laying on your chest. You greet the moon again, this time with a breathy laugh.

Seluné must be smiling back at you, surely.

You’re not sure who’s standing above you when you open your eyes again, being only seconds away from entirely blacking out. But you think it must be an angel, with his snow-white curls and how he revels under the veil of the moon. You want to reach out to him, but your shaky arm says otherwise.

He’s beautiful, you think, even if you can’t make out his face.

You hope the angel doesn’t pity you.

Apparently, heaven is at Elfsong Tavern. You’d imagined being greeted with the smell of roses and a fresh stream rather than the overwhelming stench of booze, but you suppose it’s fitting considering how you’d died in a puddle of what you assume to be a concoction of cat piss and your own blood.

No, that can’t be right.

Looking around frantically, you lurch forward, the sweat and mud sticking your hair to your skin. Multiple pairs of eyes bore into you. You’re slumped in the tavern's kitchen, several Fist soldiers peering at you curiously. And finally, you manage to make out Shadowheart, whose hands are hovering over you with a gentle glow.

“Lay back down, I’m almost done,” she frowns.

You ignore her request. “The spawn! I’m not sure if they’re dead–”

“Never mind that,” she snaps. “They found you blacked out on the ground next to a dead body and a broken wall. What in bloody hell happened last night? Do you know how much it scared us when the damn Fists were banging at our door at 4:30 in the morning?”

Your head spins, and you clutch at your head. “Got ambushed. I tried to talk to them, but apparently, they just wanted a midnight snack.”

“Heavens above,” she breathes. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“No, I was so close, Shadowheart,” you shake your head frantically, smearing at the mud still plastered on your face. “I’ll be more prepared next time. If I manage to just capture one of the spawn alive, I could ask them where Petras is-”

There’s a loud yell from the hatch leading to the basement. Your head whips in its direction, then to Shadowheart, staring at her inquisitively.

She sighs, finally lowering her hands to her side. “Look, I need you to listen to me very closely. As your friend, I can’t have you losing your composure in front of the Duke downstairs. They’re in the hideout, but they’re also with–”

You hear Gale’s voice holler. “You’re the only one who knows them well enough, Astarion!”

Suddenly, your blood runs cold. While Shadowheart tries to keep you still, nothing can stop you as you yank the hatch open, sprinting downstairs. You run through the secret entrance to the hideout, your mind racing rapidly with words you can’t even decipher because they’re going by so fast. You want to hide away and barge into the room simultaneously, and the pounding of your head does nothing to help.

You're different now, you assure yourself. A part of you hates him for what he did, and you're willing to act on this hatred. You won't be passing out on the street, drunk on the pit of isolation he left behind, praying he'd appear from thin air and assure you things are fine. You're better now, and you did it all without his help.

But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.

You want to see him.

The room is cold–empty, except for three figures alongside two more guards standing at the door. Ravengard, standing at one end of the circular table, has his arms crossed, brows knitted together comprehensively. Gale, who had been pacing back and forth around the room, freezes instantly when he sees you. So does everyone else.

“Ah, and here comes the star of the show.” You haven’t heard his voice in so long. It almost feels foreign.

Standing between the other men on either side of the table, Astarion’s eyes bore into you, lips curled in a grin barely showing off his fanged teeth. When you lock eyes, yours grows wider as you take him in.

He looks almost the same. The same curly white hair, the same blood-red eyes, and the same smile that once brought you joy yet now only fueled the endless longing of your nightmares. While you expect yourself to feel anger, relief, or shock, all you feel is the rapid beating of your heart, your mind void of everything besides how uncomfortable the dried mud feels on your face. Your breath hitches as he lifts a finger to the side of his head. Only then do you also feel the warm liquid sliding down your cheek.

“You’re bleeding, darling.”

With the inevitable urge to barf up nothing from your empty stomach, you're back to being the same person as you were four months ago.

Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @ukeia-uchiha @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova

[awxcoffeexno]

the patient - part 3

toxic!loganhowlett x reader

sunlight

<< part 2 | series masterlist | fic masterlist | part 4 >>

summary: you realise that happiness can be found elsewhere.

content: bobby takes the reader to prom and it's painfully cute. logan's kinda there but we hate logan rn.

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k

a/n: i kinda sorta accidentally made myself fall in love w bobby as i wrote this??? he's such a cutie patootie,

you sit in front of the mirror, concealing your under eyes when bobby knocks on your door.

"c'mon in!" you chirp, surprised your voice still sounds light after having cried endlessly for days.

he's holding a giant bouquet, one so big you see it walk in before you see him. it makes you let out a surprised but genuine laugh.

"aren't you supposed to bring me a corsage? that's too many flowers." you smile and he sets the bouquet down next to you, leaning against your dresser.

"true, but I'd much rather let you pick which one you like best. not to mention..." he looks you up and down, smile widening involuntarily. "you look absolutely stunning."

that's when you feel it settle in your heart. you might not love him but bobby will make you feel on top of the world. it's his thoughts and his determination that confirms it to you. he'll have it no other way.

bobby's a good guy. and all of his attention is singularly on you. haven't you been so desperate to receive the same from logan? maybe you've just been looking for it in the wrong person.

you swallow that thought, hoping it stays in your belly. he pulls out a white carnation and a tulip from the bouquet, giving you a choice. you point at the carnation and he fashions it into a corsage around your wrist.

you stand up from your vanity, smoothing the dress down one last time, and bobby offers you his hand, his smile warm and genuine. he looks at you with such admiration that it almost makes you forget the ache of the last few days. almost.

the two of you make your way down the hallway and the stairs, the yellow glow of the lights warm and comforting. the prom is being held in the grand ballroom just down the hall. the entire mansion seems to hum with excitement, students and teachers in their finest attire.

as you approach the entrance to the ballroom, the sound of music and laughter grows louder. bobby’s hand is steady in yours, grounding you in the moment. you try to focus on him, on the kindness in his eyes, on the way he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. he’s everything you should want, everything you deserve.

but you can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching you. you feel logan’s gaze on you before you even see him. it’s like a magnetic pull, one that you wish you could ignore, but can’t.

when you finally glance up, there he is, leaning against the wall just outside the ballroom, his arms crossed over his chest. he’s dressed in his usual attire – jeans, a worn leather jacket –looking completely out of place among the sea of formal wear. but his eyes, those intense, piercing eyes, are locked on you.

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to keep walking, to not give in to the urge to turn around and confront him. bobby notices the tension, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. he just keeps walking beside you, leading you into the ballroom.

the grand space is decked out in shimmering lights and decorations, and you and your peers have worked hard to take it to this from the usual training sessions and meetings that take place here. the music is lively, the laughter infectious, and for a moment, you allow yourself to get lost in it. bobby twirls you onto the dance floor, his smile widening as he sees your hesitation begin to fade.

"you're so pretty, you know?" he whispers, leaning in so you can hear him over the noisy crowd. "i want to make this special for you."

he makes you blush so easily, you'd be head over heels for him in a second if you were normal.

"is it a bit late to point out that i can't dance for shit?" you say sheepishly but his grin in response is so wide it almost makes your heart falter.

"no problem. i can."

and shit, he's good. ice skating, he explains as he leads you through the waltz. he used to ice skate as a child – which is quite fitting for the Iceman – and the image is rather sweet, little bobby dancing across the ice in his little costume.

nothing about him feels little right now though as he twirls you around. you often find yourself holding your breath when he pulls you close, leaning down, his cool breath ghosting your lips.

finally the dance ends, and he looks at you with such brilliance in his eyes you wonder what you've done to deserve this attention from him. you just need to commit and dive in headfirst.

"bobby?"

"yeah?"

"can you kiss me?"

his suave exterior breaks as the sweetest pink colours his cheeks. he gently tips your jaw up and leans down, pressing a cool, feather-light kiss to your lips. it doesn't surprise you how he tastes of peppermint, a stark contrast to the tobacco and–

no. you refuse to think about him. absolutely not.

you quickly kiss him again and thank him for the lovely dance, giggling when he kisses your knuckles in response.

for the next hour, you do your best to enjoy the evening. you laugh with your friends, dance again with bobby, and try to push logan out of your mind. but every time you think you’ve succeeded, you catch a glimpse of him standing by the door, watching you, and your heart clenches all over again.

eventually, bobby steps away to grab some drinks, leaving you alone for a moment. you glance around the ballroom, taking in the glittering scene, but your eyes are drawn back to logan. he’s still standing there, still watching you with that unreadable expression.

before you can stop yourself, you find your feet moving toward him, your heart pounding in your chest. you tell yourself that you just want to get this over with, to find out what he wants so you can move on with your night, but deep down, you know it’s more than that. it always is with logan.

when you reach him, you stop, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive posture. “what are you doing here, logan?”

you try and fail to read his mind. he's been blocking you out for a while now and he's clearly getting better at it.

he looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. “just keeping an eye on things.” he fucking hated that kiss for himself but knows that it was good for you.

“on what, exactly?” you challenge, your voice sharper than you intended and that makes him falter. “you said you wouldn't come without jean.”

“i did,” he admits, his gaze flickering to the dance floor where bobby is laughing with a group of students. “but i like seeing you happy.”

the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. you want to be angry with him, to tell him to leave you alone, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to breathe.

“logan, you can’t just—” you start, but he cuts you off, stepping closer.

“i was wrong, okay? about what i said before. about a lot of things.” his voice is low, filled with a regret that tugs at your heartstrings.

you narrow your eyes, trying to hold on to your resolve. “that’s not an apology.”

“no, it’s not,” he agrees, taking another step closer. “but i’m tryin' to fix this. i don’t know how, but i’m gonna try.”

you’re torn between the part of you that wants to walk away and the part that’s been waiting to hear these words for what feels like forever. you look up at him, your heart aching with confusion and longing.

“you really hurt me, logan,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“i know,” he says softly, reaching out to gently take your hand. “and i’m sorry. i never wanted to hurt you, but i did. and i’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you if you let me.”

no. you cannot let him do this. not just yet. it isn't fair that you should suffer for a week alone and then just let him stride back into your life.

you pull your hand back, shaking your head. “no, logan.”

he looks at you, confused. a minute passes before he manages to find his words.

“what do you mean, no?” of course he isn't used to hearing that word from your mouth. you've never uttered it to him before.

“i mean no,” you repeat, firmer this time. “you don’t get another chance to hurt me. you don’t get to play with my feelings and then expect me to just forgive you because you’ve decided it’s convenient now.”

his eyes darken, the regret in them shifting to something harder, more defensive. “i’m trying to make things right.”

“and i’m telling you, it’s too late,” you say, your voice strong despite the way your heart is breaking. but when you think back to how easy it felt with bobby, you continue, “you don’t get to do this to me again. i deserve better, logan. i deserve someone who sees me, who wants me, who doesn’t need to lose me to realise what they had.”

he stares at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for any sign of weakness. but you stand your ground, refusing to let him see how much this is killing you inside.

“you can’t mean that,” he finally says, his voice low, almost pleading.

“i do,” you say, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “i’m done, logan. i’m done letting you hurt me.”

for a moment, it looks like he’s going to argue, to push back and try to convince you otherwise. but then something in his expression shifts, and he steps back, the fight draining out of him.

“fine,” he mutters, turning away. “if that’s what you want.”

“it is,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.

without another word, he walks away, disappearing down the hallway, leaving you standing there with your heart in pieces.

you take a deep breath, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill. you can’t break down now. not here, not when bobby is waiting for you.

when you return to the ballroom, bobby is there, holding two cups of punch and flashing you a bright smile. “hey, you okay?”

you force a smile, taking the cup from him. “yeah, i’m fine.”

but as you look into his kind eyes and lean up to press a quick kiss on his lips, you realize that now you're doing the exact same thing to him that logan's done to you.

well, shit.

--

yayayayay we love reader standing up for herself and not taking logan's bs anymore. also, isn't bobby the sweetest?

i really hope this checked off a few of the requests y'all had. i had sm fun writing this. also praying I haven't missed anyone off the taglist.

love, d <3

--

<< part 2 part 4 >>

taglist: @beeingaflower, @uhnanix, @kokomixxk, @nighwingsdiscordkitten, @iluvloganhowlett, @reidsworld, @aleynaleia , @gboy2008 , @thegirlfromthemovies , @swthxrry , @mattymurderdocks , @malfoys-demigod , @angelcvts4u , @chxrrybomb22 , @coolio2195 , @fictionalmen-dilflover (i love ur user sm), @twinkleteaparty , @gracierae18, @brucebannerswifey , @evasmlp , @m1cky-y-y, @deaky-with-a-c

[tadpolesonalgae]

Are you planning on writing a part 2 to Can't Bring Myself to Hate You?

Because I need it desperately 😩

Okay, I feel like this is the first time actually writing something intended to be angsty/upsetting so…yeah. Little unsure, but hope you enjoy!

It’ll go up on 2nd of September at 19:00, so keep an eye out!!

Hope this doesn’t piss too many people off 😬

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 2[*]

‘ “Look at me.”

His voice breaks through your world of darkness, eyes opening to seek him out. They flit away, embarrassed by the damp blur coating your vision. His fingers slide forward with ease, dancing through the mess between your thighs, pressing to that unfairly sensitive space at your apex. “Look at me,” he repeats. Still quiet, but stern; sharp. ’

‘ You stare, and nothing comes to mind. Anything you had planned to say is forgotten, washed away to a land of mist and fog. Sharp hazel eyes meet yours, dark and accusing, spearing through you. Shadows peek over his wings, circling tight. Lips press together in a stern line.

“What was that?” Your voice is hoarse, rough at the edges. “What were you…? Why…?” ’

[sterredem]

Short ‘n Sweet

Charles Leclerc x singer!reader

Face claim Sabrina Carpenter

Summary Y/n releases an album and Charles is whipped

Warning hate, slut shaming, not proofread, spelling mistakes

A/N sorry that didn’t post for a while, and that this came late, but I lost my log in.

I also made this in a day so there will be spelling mistakes.

Part 1 - Part 2

Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 3.754.754 others

Yourusername I’m going on tour!! I am so exited to bring the Short ‘n Sweer tour to north America and Europe!!!

This tour will be with special guests @amaarea @wiffygriffy & @thedeclanmckenna !!

Can’t wait to be singing with y’all soon💋

View all 22.764 comments

Instagram it’s her year😌

Charles_Leclerc Fir sure going to as many as I can

Spotify preparing ourselves now for the outros we are about to receive

User1 Hopefully it’s not to expensive 🤞🤞

User2 Excited😍

User3 please please please don’t make the tickets to expensive

User4 AAAHHHH

User5 not the article😂

User6 Can we just talk about how good she looks…?

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by gracieabrams and 5.826.826 others

Yourusername eventful

View all 7.725 comments

Charles_Leclerc gorgeous girl

Yourusername 💋

User7 wow

User8 in love

User9 not the switch😂

User10 Charles is so lucky

User11 so exited for the album!!

User12 Y/n Y/l/n the women you are

User13 😍😍😍

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by Taylorswift and 4.725.735 others

Yourusername look at you, the entire short ‘n sweet tour sold out, espresso #1 at pop radio andddd I slit down this slide :’) thank you all so much!!!

View all 12.752 comments

Taylorswift SUMMER OF Y/N AND MAY it CONTINUE FOREVER 😇

Zaralarson oh that’s queen shit

Charles_Leclerc so proud :)

User1 WOHO

User2 Taylor and Zara commenting?? She made it!

User3 she’s not our little secre eet anymore 😭

User4 overrated

User5 says you

User6 wow… just wow…

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by OliviaRodrigo and 8.735.826 others

Yourusername Short ‘n Sweet august 23rd!!!! Claim your track n tell your friends!!!

Comments are disabled

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Instagram

Liked by Charles_Leclerc and 5.725.726 others

Yourusername my give a fucks are on euhhh how do u say

View all 9.625 comments

Charles_Leclerc Cute girl

Yourusername pretty boy

Gracieabrams wow, cutie

User7 She looks so good tho…

User8 awww… leoooo

User9 I love her and Charles

User10 I’m jealous of everyone in this photo dump

User11 you just see her glowing from happiness, she deserves it after her shitty ex

User12 I’m curious if any of the new songs are about Charles or her ex

User13 pastaaaaa

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked Yourusername and 3.835.735 others

Charles_Leclerc flying ears and swimming fast

View all 8.736 comments

Yourusername who’s that handsome man?

Charles_Leclerc who’s that gorgeous girl?

Carlossainz55 cute

Landonorris whipped man, whipped

Pierregasly why wasn’t I invited?

Gracieabrams bring her back please

User1 Oh?? Y/n made it to the instagram!

User2 Charles be like 🧍

User3 Y/n looks so good and Charles is also there

User4 Leo is so cuteeee

User5 He looks so hot

User6 power couple fr

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by laufey and 5.725.835 others

Yourusername some shots for you before Short ‘n Sweet comes outtt

View all 9.725 comments

Charles_Leclerc Wow……… beautiful

Bsfuser I see myself!

Laufey cutie

User7 she knows she’s hot

User8 can’t wait for the album!

User9 speechless

User10 I love supportive bf Charles

User11 she is only so famous because of how she looks

User12 stfu. Saying that doesn’t make you cool

User13 sexyyyy

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked gracieabrams and 3.254.164 others

Yourusername taste me!

View all 6.643 comments

User1 WHO IS THAT ON THE LAST SLIDE??!!

User2 Funeral?? Who’s in the last pic??

User3 she things she can distract us with the 1st pic but it won’t work!!

User4 it worked on me

User5 slut!

User6 listen to all because I liked a big my love. Just cause you have a man crush on Charles doesn’t mean that she is a slut

User7 OH?!

|———————————<3—————————————|

Instagram

Liked by jennaortega and 4.735.735 others

Yourusername Short ‘n Sweet is officially yours now!!!

I feel so lucky that u het to write and sing songs for my job, and I love that you all listen to it!

This is a project that is very close to my heart, I have worked on it through different periods of my life, an do am delighted to share it with you all!

Thank you to my brilliant talented friend that helped me produce, write and record this. And an extra special thank you to my lovely boyfriend Charles fir helping me with the piano on these songs!

I love you all and I hope that you enjoy this!💋🩵

View all 13.725 comments

Jennaortega your mind ❤️!

Charles_Leclerc amazing!🩵❤️

User8 short ‘n sweet = no skips

User9 Y/N YOUVE DONE IT AGAIN!

User10 Love the album already!!

User11 MOTHER IS MOTGERING!!

User12 Bed chem? Dumb and poetic?? Juno??? Slim pickins???? Amazing!!!

User13 I love all the songs!!!!!!

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Instagram

Liked by Oliviarodrigo and 7.836.836 others

Yourusername Taste btssss. The music video for taste is out now!!

View all 9.735 comments

OliviaRodrigo Hot hot hot

Charles_Leclerc I’m there!

User1 AHAAAAAAHHHHH

User2 JENNA!!

User3 Charles being in yet another music video is amazing!!

User4 Charles is now in 3 music videos!

User5 wait… which ones? I thought only 2 now

User4 Feather, please please please, and now taste!

User6 OMG!!

User7 Masterpiece!!

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Instagram

Liked by Yourusername and 4.825.735 others

Charles_Leclerc My sweet girl just released a new album!! Go stream Short ‘n Sweet!!

View all 12.725 comments

Yourusername I LOVE YOU!!💋💋❤️❤️

Landonorris As I said, whipped

Carlossainz55 You won mate

User8 CUTEEE

User9 Love supportive bf!!

User10 you’re a lucky man Charles…

User11 is bed Chen about you???

User12 …Wow…

User13 I love you twoooo

|———————————<3—————————————|

Also this will be the last part of this series: so this is the end. Maybe I will put one last small smau in it with a paddock appearance and the vma’s but that is if someone is interested. So let me know!!

[starringthesturniolos]

bite me (part 3)- matt sturniolo

part 1, part 2, part 3

summary: matt hates your guts but all of that changes when he finds out your his mate.

contains: vampire!matt x reader, highschool au! (18 years old), smut (not in this part)

a/n: a short chapter but the next ones a biggie. love yall and thank you so much for the support

——————————————————————————

when i wake up, i’m strapped to a bed frame. i struggle against the restraints but all that comes out of it is another dizzy spell.

“hey, your awake” i whip my head around to see two blue eyes staring back at me. fear shoots into my chest again, as i stare at matt’s brother, chris, in front of me. if matts not human, then i bet he’s not either.

“get away from me” my voice shakes and i gear my legs up to be ready to kick if necessary. “i know matt scared you pretty bad yesterday, but i promise, no ones going to hurt you here.” he comes and sits on the side of the bed, placing his hand on my knee gently

chris and i have only ever had one class together and it was in our sophomore year, but i always thought highly of him. he was nice and funny, unlike his brother. i may have even had a crush on him, if i had allowed myself to. the version of him i knew before, overides my fear of what he is and as he strokes my knee some of my fear goes away. but then all of a sudden, anger spikes within me that somehow doesn’t feel like my own. chris’ hand that was once comforting felt like a hot clothing iron on my skin. i wince and chris takes his hand off me immediately. instead, he looks towards the doorway apprehensively.

in the doorway, is none other than the matt sturniolo, and he looks furious.

fear and another feeling i can’t put my finger on fills me at the sight of him. i take a deep breath to try and calm myself down. at least he looks like he’s back to normal, no more red eyes and black veins.

“hey, she was freaking out, i was only trying to help. it’s not like that, i swear.” chris puts his arms up defending himself and trying to ease matts anger.

“whatever, get out” he snarls and i wince at the sound. chris scrambles out the room and matt marches up to me, sitting in the exact spot chris was moments before. unlike chris’ gentle touch, matt grabs my thigh roughly and possesively. even though the move was aggressive, when i feel his touch my body relaxes and my thighs clench together, hard. why is this turning me on and why did i stop panicking all of a sudden? his presence and touch should do nothing but scare me after everything he’s done. after everything i’ve seen.

“there you go” he coos darkly. “just relax, i have a lot of shit to tell you.” he says staring into my eyes intensely. the stare sends a heat surging through my body and i feel myself starting to get wet. if i could punch myself in the face i would. “get to it, make it quick.” i snip.

“have it your way then, i was gonna take it slow but i guess not.” he shrugs. “i’m a vampire and your my mate. thats why i went ape shit yesterday. thanks for listening to my ted talk.” he deadpans and cocks his head to the side.

even though it sounded like it was a joke, we both knew it wasn’t. my mind didn’t want to believe it, but my body knew it was true. matt is a vampire, and i am his mate.

“how? how am i your mate? whatever the fuck that is!” my voice raises in anger. did he pick me? maybe, to just to fuck around with me and tie me into all his weird vampire shit. did he really hate me that much?

“what, you think i know?!” he matches my angry tone before taking a breath, bringing his other hand up to rub his temple. “trust me, i have no idea sweetheart. if it were my choice, i’d have anyone but you. but for now, your stuck with me” he rolls his eyes. “and vice versa” he mutters.

his hand is still gripping my thigh and not a fiber of my being wants him to move it, even with all the arguing. and judging by the way he’s looking at me now, it looks like he’s stopping himself from doing more. i feel myself getting annoyed with myself for wanting him to do whatever he pleased and more.

“stop getting annoyed” he snaps. “its just the mating bond making us react to each other this way. nothing you can do about it” matt breathes in deeply and a shudder racks through him.

“what was that?” i ask weirded out by the almost animalistic behavior. “you just smell really good to me right now. i couldn’t help myself” he breathes out, eyes darkening slightly.

this man could really eat me alive if he wanted too. i shiver at the thought, but then my mind reels again. how did he know i was annoyed??.

“how did you know? that i was annoyed, i mean” you say bewildered by what being mated might entail. “now that you’re mine, i can feel your emotions almost like their my own. you can do it too, but humans aren’t as good at pin pointing it as we are.” he smirks like being a whole monster is something to be proud of and being human is childs play.

that would explain the random surge of anger earlier with chris. another wave of annoyance courses through me. he’s sooo possessive already. his words from yesterday rings through my head.

“because you’re mine.”

matts voice breaks through my silence. “but don’t worry this is all temporary” he smiles to himself. “i know a girl, and im pretty sure she can get rid of this” he gestures between the both of us. i can’t help the smile that rips through me at the good news.

“then what are we waiting for” i say impatiently.

@bbernard-03

@sturnthepot

@hoeformatt

@sturtriple16

@faygo-frog

@sturniol0s

@katie-tibo

@cindylcuwho

@mattslolita

[harrywavycurly]

YES TO A PART 2 PLEASE!!!

Hiii babes!!! So happy y’all wanted a part 2! So here it is and I hope y’all enjoy💖

A/N: if y’all want more updates on these two let me know because I lowkey love them so much✨

-find all things Lonely here✨

Tag List: @blckburd @fangirl509east @ell0ra-br3kk3r

Summary: You’re ready to talk to Harry but are you ready to hear what he has to say? Aka you tell Harry how you feel and he asks you to marry him…again✨

Harry cant help the smile that takes over his face as he sees you walk into his living room. His eyes glance down to your left hand and he’s pleased to see you still have on the gold band he slid onto your ring finger in your backyard a little over twenty four hours ago. He makes a move to get up from his spot on the couch but you quickly put a hand up making him raise an eyebrow as he pauses his movements. He watches as you let out a deep breath before finally making eye contact with him and his feels his smile morph into a slight frown when he sees the sadness that’s written all over your face. Your eyes are red and the tip of your nose is pink and if he was standing closer to you he knows he’d hear you sniffling letting him know you were crying not too long ago.

“You can’t marry me Harry.” He hates how your voice sounds shaky as your eyes go from looking at him to down to your shoes. “You deserve to be with someone you’re already in love with and not someone you just hope one day you’ll wake up and magically be in love with.” He stands up and ignores your warning glare when he sees your hand start to grab at the ring on your left hand trying to slip it off.

“I love you.” His words make you want to let out a sob as he takes your hands in his and ducks his head down so you have no choice but to look at him. “I know it’s not the same as being in love okay? But I also know that I’ve never allowed myself to think about you in any other way than as a friend because I knew from that very first night when we met all those years ago that I needed you in my life and I know that feelings and friendships don’t usually mix well.” You feel his warm hands give yours a gentle squeeze as he brings them up to his lips.

“I just couldn’t risk losing you so I never let myself see you as anything other than my bestfriend.” His lips are soft against the skin of your knuckles, he hears you let out a small sigh as your shoulders relax a bit. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t. I already know the moment I let myself actually see you as someone that’s not just my bestfriend but as someone I’m allowed to be in love with my life is going to change forever but I can’t take that leap unless you’re taking it with me.” He can’t help but feel his heart begin to beat faster as he watches his words fully register with you. He feels his heart drop to his stomach when you just shake your head and close your eyes as an attempt to avoid his intense stare.

“I already took the leap Harry.” He raises an eyebrow as you turn your head and open your eyes, you know if you look at him he will make you crumble and you can’t, not yet at least not until you tell him the truth. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t remember a time where I just loved you as my bestfriend.” Harry hasn’t ever wished he could change how he feels about someone more than he does in this moment, he wishes so badly he could tell you he’s in love with you too but he just can’t and you know it. “So I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” Your words come out like a whisper as you slide your hands out of his.

You try to turn and make your way to his front door but Harry knows you so he anticipates your escape attempt so he is quick to grab your hand before you can even try. You make a small squeaking sound of surprise when you feel him tug at your hand bringing you closer to him and when you look up at him and see a playful glare in his eyes as he just lets out a frustrated sigh and shakes his head you know he’s not upset but more so just annoyed and you don’t understand why until he starts to speak.

“You always have to beat me at everything don’t you?” You can’t help but shrug as a small chuckle escapes his lips causing the energy in the room to shift from sad and borderline heartbreaking to more optimistic and comfortable. “Can’t even let me try to fall in love with you first you have to go and admit that you’ve loved me for a while now and then in the same breath you want to tell me you can’t do this?” He gives your hand another tug bringing you even closer to him making you have to brace yourself with your free hand so you don’t crash into his chest as he looks down at you with a pout you know isn’t genuine because the way the corners of his mouth twitch in an attempt to hold back his smile. “I don’t think so sweetheart.”

“Harry I-”

“Just let me catch up to you love.” He closes his eyes as he leans down and rests his forehead against yours. You can feel how desperately he wants you to give him a chance. “I just need some time to catch up to you that’s all, you have a bit of a head start so just give me a little time please?” You interlock your fingers with his in the hand that he’s holding, this little sign of affection makes him smile as he opens his eyes and stands up a bit straighter.

“What if you never feel the same? Will you tell me?” He just nods as he brings your hand to rest on his chest right where his heart is. “Good so then I’ll be able to divorce you and take half of everything and move to Italy.” He rolls his eyes the moment you mention Italy.

“You’d never move to Italy without me.”

“I totally would if I was divorcing you because you realized you can’t ever love me the way I love you.”

“So you’d take half of everything and you’d take Italy from me?” You just nod as Harry lets out a scoff as he gives your hand a squeeze. “That’s just cruel love.” He brings your hand up to his lips and gives your knuckles a little kiss before he lets it go allowing him to use both hands to cup the sides of your face. “You won’t have to divorce me though.” His voice is soothing as his thumbs gently run across your cheekbones and you know you look a mess with your red eyes and puffy face from crying but Harry doesn’t care.

“How can you be so sure?” You need him to explain it to you, to make you understand why he’s so confident in his decision that you should be his wife. Your question just makes him grin as he leans down and places a quick kiss to your forehead making your knees want to give out.

“Because how could I not fall in love with you? For starters I feel like it is my duty to remind you how beautiful you are because I could literally stand here all day and explain to you exactly why I find you so stunning but I also know you hate that sort of thing so we will just move on.” Harry shoots you a playful wink but you know him enough to know he means it, if you wanted him to he’d stand there and give you a detailed explanation on why he finds you so beautiful because he’s done it once before when the two of you were drunk and you called yourself ugly and he wasn’t having it.

“You’re funny and you even find me funny at times which is a huge boost to my ego every time you laugh at one of my horrible dad jokes. You’re so smart and I love the way your mind works because you see things in a way that I don’t which is why we make such a great team. You challenge me constantly. You tell me when I’m being an idiot which is often and you allow me to make my own mistakes but you always let me know you’re going to be there when it falls apart.” You lean into his touch as he talks and you feel your cheeks get warm as he looks at you with such intensity you want to look away but you don’t, you know he’s saying these things to you because he desperately needs you to believe him when he says he can love you the way you love him.

“I think the love has been there this whole time I just refused to see it because I didn’t want to lose you.” He breaks the eye contact and drops his hands from your face as he tilts his head upward and looks towards his ceiling as he lets out a deep breath before you watch him look back down at you while taking a few steps backwards. “Now I’m going to do this one more time and honestly if you tell me no I’m never doing it again so no pressure but the future of the Styles name is sort of resting on your lovely shoulders.” You want to roll your eyes and make a joke but you can’t, all you can do is stare at him as he quickly reaches into his back pocket for something before he drops down to one knee for the second time right in front of you.

“I know how to make you happy and I know how to make you laugh. I also know exactly which buttons to press to make you want to smother me in my sleep while I’m taking a nap on the couch, I know this seems crazy but if you think about it we’ve kinda been dating for the last ten years and we have everything two people need in order to have a very happy and healthy marriage.” You smile and give him a small but encouraging nod as he reaches for your left hand.

“We have the foundation of over a decade long friendship and we have respect and for the most part we don’t judge each other even though I know you sometimes send photos of my outfits to Niall and you two talk shit but that’s okay because I sometimes talk to Mitch about the things you would tell me about all your tinder hook ups.” He watches in amusement as your eyes go slightly wide at his confession and before you can say anything your attention is brought back to your ring finger as Harry starts to slowly slide off the gold band. “But most importantly we trust each other and we’d never do anything to hurt one another and also it doesn’t hurt I quite like how you look nak-”

“I will say no right now if you bring up how I look naked in the middle of your second marriage proposal.” Your voice is teasing but Harry doesn’t want to risk it so he just nods as the gold band is now off your ring finger and you don’t even know how he does it because it’s so quick but he manages to switch it with a ring that you know you’ve seen before but you just can’t quite remember where.

“It was my Nan’s but you’ve probably seen my sister wearing it but after an intense evening of negotiating I managed to get her to agree to give it to me.” You feel your eyes get that familiar sting to them as he slips the ring on your finger. “I hope you don’t mind Gemma as a name for our first born child because that was one of the conditions as well as letting her be my best woman at the wedding but the main condition she had for giving me this ring was,” Harry smiles at how well the ring fits you and how good it looks on your finger before he looks up at you, and that’s when you feel the first few tears roll down your cheeks because he’s looking at you almost as if it’s the first time and you watch as his smile grows and his eyes light up. “You had to be the one wearing it.” You look from Harry’s eyes down to the ring and then back to him as you feel your heart begin to race as you prepare for him to ask you the question this has all be leading up to.

“Will you please marry me and allow me to prove to you just how easy it’ll be for me to love you for the rest of my life?” Harry watches with a hopeful smile as a few more tears roll down your cheeks and when you just nod your head he feels as if the weight of the world has been lifted off his shoulders as he lets out a deep sigh of relief but to your surprise he doesn’t move he just stares at you for a moment. “I really need to hear you say it. Please.” You’ve never been one to deny him especially when he asks so nicely.

“Yes Harry I’ll marry you.” His smile turns into a grin that makes his dimples pop out and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he finally stands up and wraps his arms around your shoulders pulling you into his chest.

“Thank god.” You let out a giggle as he mumbles into the top of your head while your arms wrap around his middle so you can press your cheek against the soft material of his shirt. The two of you stay like that for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Harry is the one to break away from the embrace but just enough so he can look down at you with a quirked brow. “Would it be weird if we kissed? I know we’ve kissed a handful of times before and it wasn’t weird but is it different now? Or-” His words get cut off by you pressing your lips to his in a very rushed kiss but one that still makes him smile when you pull away.

“It is different now but it’s not a weird different.” You explain and Harry just licks his lips as he nods his head and before you can say anything else his lips are on yours but this time the kiss isn’t rushed and it feels like how kissing someone you just got engaged to is supposed to be, soft and sweet leaving you both with grins on your faces when he pulls away.

“So does next week work for you to get married?” You roll your eyes at him and ignore his question as you rest your head back on his chest.

“God we have to like actually plan a wedding now.”Harry laughs as you let out a groan and he knows you’re making a mental checklist of all the things that need to get done. “Where are we going to live?” He looks down at you and offers you a casual shrug making you roll your eyes at him yet again.

“We can live here if you’re comfortable with that? Or if you want we can look at some houses and find something that feels like it’s more us so you don’t feel like you’re moving into my house? Because no offense lovey but your house isn’t an option you have two bedrooms and one of them is the size of the closet I just have for my shoes and accessories.” You ignore his rude statement about the size of your house and smile at the idea of finding a place that feels like it’s just for the two of you rather than you moving into his house that he’s had for years and has seen a few other woman move in and out of it.

“Okay I like the idea of us finding a place together.” He just nods as his hands begin running up and down your back. “Who’s going to be your first call?” You know his answer but you want to hear him say it anyway.

“My mum so she can get all her ugly crying out of the way and I’m sure I’m going to have to talk her out of booking a flight out here and try to tell her to save it for the engagement party or something but we both know she doesn’t listen to me half the time so she’s more than likely going to ring my doorbell in a few days.” You laugh as he rambles on about his mom and you know even though his tone is teasing that he adores his mother and he’ll be a big teary eyed mess the moment she wraps her arms around him when she arrives.

“Mine is Niall because-”

“Niall Horan? That’s the first person you’re telling about our engagement? Really?”

“Yes because if he finds out through someone else it’ll just wreck him, you know he’s sensitive and besides I need him to get the big brother type conversation with you out of the way as soon as possible.” Harry rolls his eyes at the idea of Niall trying to have a brotherly conversation with him but he knows Niall has always been like a protective older brother to you and he’s been there for you at times Harry couldn’t so he’ll let Niall say whatever it is he needs to say and be done with it.

“You know he’s going to be a mess right? He’s going to cry and be all dramatic-”

“You’re one to talk about being dramatic Harry when you’ve literally proposed to me twice now.”

“I wouldn’t have had to do it twice if you would’ve just said yes the first time.”

“Someone has to keep you humble.” You feel Harry’s chest vibrate as he laughs making you smile, his laugh has always been one of your favorite sounds.

“And you do such a good job at it sweetheart.” You give him a little squeeze as he rests his cheek on top of your head. You feel your body start to relax as you look down at the ring on your finger. It’s a beautiful reminder that Harry Styles, your bestfriend for over ten years really did ask you to marry him and you really said yes because you love him and you believe him when he tells you that if you give him some time he will love you in the exact same way.

[kaisturni]

let me | m. sturniolo

→ matt x fem!reader

→ plot; you’ve been on your own for a while, not needing or wanting the company of anyone. what happens when you meet a guy late night on the beach, and everything about him draws you in?

→ includes; making out, slightly suggestive towards the end, reader is slightly angst if you squint

→ a/n; this was my first request! it was by an anon, so i hope you like it :) this was super short i feel like i usually write longer lol but this is something i’d see myself doing a part 2 of!

NOT PROOFREAD

——————————————————————————

sand sticks to my feet as i walk along where it meets the waves, taking the salty air into my lungs.

the moon shines down on just me, seemingly the only soul on the beach unlike it’s brighter, more crowded counterpart.

i find a good spot further up on the sand, peeling my sweatshirt off to sit on. i cursed at myself for not bringing a towel, but this will do.

i didn’t bring anything besides my wallet and keys, since my apartment is a short walk away from the beach. i take walks like this alone often, so i don’t usually come geared up.

i’m used to being alone now. i left home, i don’t have roommates anymore, and everything just came falling apart. i cant rely on anyone anymore and i don’t want to.

closing my eyes, i sit with my solitude for a moment before i hear a pair of feet shuffling in the sand.

i open my eyes, he’s a fair distance away, but close enough that i can make out every detail of him.

he’s pretty cute; tattoos, all black, nice hair, all his features go together nicely. as if he can feel my gaze lingering on him, he turns in my direction as he fixes himself on his towel, and i quickly whip my head in front of me.

i feel rude, he definitely knew i was staring. just i did to him i can feel his eyes on me too, and i close mine to prevent from investigating.

“aren’t you like, cold?”

i look in every direction first before his, seeing if he could have been speaking to anyone else. but no, he’s the one other soul now present here.

truthfully i am a little cold, the breeze is fairly strong and here i am sitting on my jacket like an idiot who forgot to bring a towel to the beach.

“a little yeah,” i’m a little standoff-ish without meaning to. i feel bad. i have no reason to be rude to this person but i am.

“i have a blanket here if you want, you know to sit on or wear or somethin,” he lifts up a blue blanket that was out of my sight, and i ponder this strangers offer.

this could potentially be a really bad idea, but how many murderers are sitting on the beach at night with a baby blue blanket on them?

“sure, thank you,” i say, getting up and walking over to him.

our eyes meet and i can now see that his are blue, still glowing despite the lack of light present. his jaw is sharp and he gives me a sweet smile as he hands me the blanket, i smile back; both at his gesture and how handsome he is.

“i’m matt, by the way, and you can sit next to me if you want— if that’s not weird, if you don’t mind,” matt’s words pick up at the last part, and i giggle at his rambling.

“i don’t mind, and i’m y/n,” i say, settling down the blanket so it’s touching his side. we smile at each other as i sit down and prop my arms slightly behind me.

we sit in silence for a bit and i my eyes flutter shut again, before he breaks the quiet between us,

“so why are you all by yourself?” he asks, shifting his position to mimic mine.

“i just like being alone. plus, it’s pretty peaceful out here at night. less people but it’s so much more alive,” i tell him, taking in all of what’s around me.

“oh yeah i know what you mean. i’m sorry if i disturbed your alone time,” matt gives me a cheeky smile, and i feel my face grow hot realizing my situation and the accidental rude comment i made.

“sorry, i didn’t mean it like that.”

“all good,” he smiles warmly at me.

i want to keep more distance but at the same time i don’t. i hate myself for being drawn to him but for whatever reason i can’t. he seems so sweet and inviting and it makes me sick.

“what are you doing alone here?” i ask him, genuinely curious as to why he is here alone and casually picking out his new best friend.

he laughs for a second, “just needed some peace and quiet away from my brothers; nick and chris. i’m a triplet, we all live together. sometimes they just drive me crazy and i need a break.”

i purse my lips and nod, i almost crave to have people to drive me crazy.

“im guessing you guys are close?

“they’re my best friends, i love em to death,” he smiles, and i can tell he’s thinking about his brothers.

he obviously loves them. he has people he can love. maybe that’s where he gets his kindness from. kindness to give a stranger a blanket, offer conversation, he’s so nice that — it annoys me.

being attracted to him is also not helping.

i think he can almost tell that i’m getting annoyed, and he clears his throat.

“did you bring a suit, we can swim if you want?”

luckily i did bring a suit, and i can take him up on this offer. unfortunately for myself, it’s quite small and doesn’t cover much, but i can grit my teeth and stick it out because it’s dark out and he won’t be able to see much of me anyway.

“yeah, let’s do it,”

he peels off his hoodie, leaving him in just black swim shorts, and he looks down at me waiting for myself to change.

i take off my shirt and shorts, leaving me in my matching black two piece. fitting.

matt seems to have no adverse reaction to my suit so i think i’m in the clear. he offers me his hand to help get up, and i take it.

“cmon,”

i’m shocked by how strong his grip is, how he easily picks me up off the ground with just one hand. this doesn’t help with my attraction to him, and neither does seeing him just above naked right in front of me.

“race ya!” i say, before sprinting to the water, him running after me calling my name.

i splash into the water before falling in, and a pair of arms grips around me, pulling me back up to the surface.

“i think you won,”

he glows in the halo of moonlight down on us, his body is slick with water and hair messy, it’s hard to keep my guard up when he’s so kind and attractive.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧

after playing in the water for about 10 minutes, we drag our tired bodies up to the towels waiting for us on the sand.

i crash down first, and matt follows. he lays down on his back, eyes closed and chest rising up and down softly.

i can’t help but stare at him again. it’s became a problem that i can’t find the solution to. i don’t realize i still am, until i meet eyes with him.

“hey,” he says gently, his tired eyes peering into mine.

“hi,” i reply, my wet body shivering in the wind, cold air kissing my skin rapidly.

“come here, let me wrap you in this,” he moves to where i’m sitting on the blanket before picking up his towel and wrapping by body in it.

i sigh in relief at the warmth of it, he chuckles at my reaction.

we stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and now that i’m closer i can see how plump and pink his lips are, his tongue swiping across his bottom one and i look up at his eyes and he’s staring at my own lips.

he leans in, and i close my eyes and brace for the contact of his mouth on my own.

it’s soft and warm, unlike anything i’ve felt before.

our mouths move in sync, and i find my hands tangling in his hair for something to grip on to. matt groans into my mouth lightly, his reaction making me want more of him.

he swoops me from my seated position to underneath him without breaking our kiss, one arm holding himself up and the other anchored on my waist.

all my bravado is gone as soon as i’m underneath him, and i can’t control my hands that explore his body, wanting to feel every bit of him.

it’s horrible; i just met him but in this moment he’s everything and i don’t want any of this to stop.

we both break away for air, and i hesitantly take my hands away from his body, them tingling at the thought of how his skin felt all from my palms to my fingers tips.

i want more.

he’s panting, lips puffy from kissing me, and he moves the sticky wet hair out of my face.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, hung eyes exploring my face, taking in every bit of me as i do the same for him.

“says yourself,” i say, unlike myself to directly compliment a man i had just met, let alone make out with him first.

“i don’t normally do this, i hope you know,”

“neither do i, i don’t normally find random cute guys to make out with at this time,”

he chuckles and drops his head, feeling wet droplets from his hair falling onto my skin.

i cant help myself, i want to kiss him again.

so i do.

matt is initially taken aback at first, before relaxing into me and his grip is stronger on my body than it was before.

our last kiss was about a minute ago— but even so this one is different. it’s less controlled, hungrier, and i can feel my body grow hot as it goes on.

his lips come apart from mine and they move down to my neck, lightly nipping and kissing down it.

i groan at his mouth on my skin, and my hand finds its way back to his hair again.

he’s been in my neck long enough that i’m sure i’m going to be marked up by matt, but i cant even begin to care in this moment.

he lifts his head up from my neck, i can tell he’s about to say something but before he does he grips onto my waist,

“we should, we should dry off. let me take you home, i can give you a ride,” his eyes pierce into mine, and my next sentence is difficult to get out.

“i actually walked, i live pretty close. but i wouldn’t mind a ride in your car,”

what is wrong with me?

he captures his bottom lip between his teeth, registering the words before even i do.

“perfect, let’s go,”

we quickly gather our beach supplies, not bothering to put on clothes or properly. beginning our walk to where his car his, he reaches his hand out to mine.

for a second i’m hesitant to take it, but i do anyway and our pace picks up and i’m almost being dragged to the car by him.

he has a sleek, black kia with dark tint. it’s a nice car, way nicer than mine. he unlocks it, turning around and signaling me to give him the stuff in my hand, and he shoves it in the trunk.

i find myself shuffling to the passenger seat of the car before he can even shut the trunk, nervousness kicks into me and my heartbeat is so loud in my own head i almost don’t hear him get into the drivers seat.

my head whips around and meets his gaze,

“hey,” he starts,

“hi,”

“want t… want to go to the back?”

[foli-vora]

without you

matt murdock x f!reader

A/N: made myself hurt with this one tbh. I'll think about a part 2 if enough are interested, but I'll warn you - it won't be a happy ending lmao. Enjoy the angst-fest loves! x

Summary: You return after the 'blip'. Five years is a long time, and a lot of things can happen in that time.

Word count: 2.1kish

Warnings: ANGST. ANGST ANGST ANGST. i got sad af writing this. i don't even know what to put in the warnings. the events of infinity war & endgame, brief mention of the avengers, severe and utter fucking heartbreak, i would lose my fucking mind coming home after an apparent 5 years and finding the love of my life *******, lots of anxiety/panic, severe panic attack, passing out. no hate to karen here - she's a fucking babe.

-

It happens within a blink.

One moment there’s no one, and the next, an older woman is suddenly standing in your way and you can’t help the brief twitch of annoyance that she’s there. You have a meeting, you have groceries to get… you can’t just play chicken with a stranger on the pavement all afternoon.

She freezes, like many others you notice, and your frown deepens, confusion starting to take over the irritation. They all look at you, but not just you.

Time seemingly comes to a momentary freeze and you just don’t understand. Why is she looking at you like that?

The next minute—panic.

There’s a rush.

People scramble for their phones, they run. Cars swerve and there’s chaos. There are people crying, people start screaming, but there’s also awe, laughter. People embrace strangers. You know they’re strangers by the way they look around in complete bewilderment in the arms of the other, seemingly just as confused as you.

Five years.

Why do you keep hearing ‘five years’? Why are shop fronts different? What the hell has happened? 

“You’re… you’re all back,” the woman utters, tears starting to build along her lash line.

Back?

You feel it in the pit of your stomach, a sick feeling of dread slowly building until it feels like it sticks uncomfortably in your throat. Something happened. You don’t know what, you don’t know how, all you know is that you need to go home immediately.

It’s halfway back to the apartment, after passing things that weren’t there previously, shops that you had passed just hours before now different, and your phone simply refusing to connect for unknown reasons, that you break into a panicked run.

You want home, you want somewhere familiar.

Matt left for work the same time as you—would the new mayhem taking over the streets bring him home to you? Maybe he’d already be waiting, sensing the frenzy before you?

The view of your building is a welcome relief, and you slow as you reach the door, heart pounding in your chest as you take the stairs as quickly as possible. The apartment is unlocked, and you berate yourself for forgetting to lock up earlier, but Matt’s cane resting by the door turns your inward irritation to understanding.

He’s home. He got here before you. He must be waiting, maybe he’d have answers—

“Matty?” you call, “do you have any idea what’s—”

A clatter, a sweep of air, and then he’s on you.

He’s curled around you before you can even finish, his arms so tight and constricting you struggle to take in a full breath. He’s talking, muttering incoherent words into the skin of your throat and all you can do is stand there, mind whirling in a maddening rush, not even able to lift your arms to return his embrace due to his restrictive hold.

“You’re here,” he breathes, almost disbelieving, “you’re here. I didn’t want to have hope but—God, I—”

“Matt, I’m so confused,” you breathe, unsure of why tears are starting to gloss your eyes or why your heart suddenly feels like it’s beating in the back of your throat, “what’s going on? It’s crazy out there, I don’t know wh—”

“I know. I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you. God, I’ve missed you. It’s been so long, I didn’t think I’d ever—” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence and a few more panicked kisses press into the side of your throat.

He’s crying.

You feel the wetness of his tears smear over your skin and it’s enough to bring your own falling heavily from your eyes. What is he talking about? You saw him this morning, only mere hours ago. You made breakfast, you kissed him goodbye like every other day, nothing had been different. 

“Matt,” you whimper, “what the hell is going on?”

—

Five years. You were gone for five years. Just one day—poof. Out of existence, never to be seen again. The city had been clouded by dust, remnants of those also taken disappearing with the autumn breeze. So many people just lost. You don’t remember any of it.

There was no pain, no suffering. You had no recollection of the time lost at all, and yet for Matt it had been years.

Years since he had touched you, kissed you, felt you. He tells you that he looked for you for weeks, months. Even went to the damn Avengers—or what was left of them—and found out what had happened. He’d been distraught, falling into a deep, dark pit of despair and heartbreak from the sudden loss of you.

You cry for him, for the time you’d lost together.

Nothing could ever make up for it. Sure, you’re here now, but could you ever truly make up for the loss of time? What had he gone through during your absence?

The two of you don’t part for what feels like hours.

Matt clings to you, inhaling you deeply and kissing whatever inch of skin he could reach. He doesn’t pull away to answer your questions, instead letting the low rumble of his voice melt through the fabric of your shirt and flooding warmth along your shoulder.

His hands still roam over you, almost as if they’re retracing your dips and curves to remind himself of how you felt when you disappeared five years ago. You catch his fingers with a sweet flutter in your chest, lifting his hand to press a tender kiss to the back of it when the smooth feel of metal catches your attention.

It’s a simple gold band, fit snug around the fourth finger of his left hand and you rub your finger over the shiny surface of it in curiosity. He wasn't wearing a ring this morning...

A ring. 

A wedding ring.

You feel sick.

He senses the moment you realise it, picking up on the sudden quicken of your heartbeat and the clammy sting of sweat that builds along the back of your neck.

His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as you stare at the smooth gold band in shock, feeling as if the room had suddenly gotten ten times smaller. He starts to shift, his fingers quickly flipping to wrap around your wrists to keep you from moving away.

“Let me explain—”

“You… are—are you married?”

“Sweetheart, please—”

You hurriedly stand, wrenching your hands from his and stumbling on your quick step back as he advances after you. He’s married? How can he be married?

Maybe he’s not. Maybe he just slid the ring you both picked out onto his finger when you disappeared in an effort to keep your memory fresh… but with the shine of guilt starting to seep into his features, you fear it’s not as sentimental as you hope.

Panic consumes you. Your eyes flitter around the room, your ears filling with a dull ring that drowns out whatever words fall from his lips as he cautiously steps after you.

It’s your apartment, but it’s… it’s not.

You start to notice the little things you had missed upon coming home so quickly. That throw over the back of the couch isn’t yours. The coffee mug next to Matt’s on the kitchen counter isn’t yours. Your trinkets aren’t lingering on the shelves where you’d placed them. Your shoes aren’t thrown by the door. Your photo with Matt isn’t in its usual spot on the wall.

Instead, another picture hangs there.

Bile burns the back of your throat. Your heart thunders away in your ears. You know what it is, you can see the general feel of it and who stands within the frame through blurry eyes, but you simply can’t accept it.

It’s morbid curiosity that makes you take those few steps towards it, a part of you screaming to not look, to turn away before it really hammers that final nail into the coffin and fucking destroys you. Maybe your mind needs to truly see it in order to make sense of it… but no. It only makes you more confused, more distressed.

What the fuck?

Oxygen is impossible. You can’t fucking breathe. You can’t—

“Sweetheart—”

It’s a wedding photo.

Matt’s wedding photo.

Matt and Karen’s wedding photo.

“Oh my god,” you whimper brokenly, clutching a hand to your chest in an effort to keep yourself together. You press where you feel the rapid beat of your heart, half wondering if you’d be able to feel the break of the frantic organ under your palm.

The room starts to spin.

This morning you’d woken up with an apartment and a fiancé, and now, only a few hours later, you have nothing. How can you have nothing? The apartment is home to you—you left your pyjamas on the floor of the bathroom this morning. You had your coffee at the counter. The love you feel for Matt is present as it always had been, there in the centre of your entire being, so sweet and consuming and yet, his love for you had seemingly vanished.

Disintegrated, along with your body apparently five years ago. Maybe with a clearer head, you’d come to understand that five years is a long time and it’s understandable that he had to move on at some point, but in the moment you feel nothing but hurt—rage.

Matt’s hands are frantic on your body, grabbing at your arms and keeping you from falling to the floor as a sob tears its way out of your chest. You can hear him try to soothe you, hear his worry that your heart is erratic and you just need to breathe.

Breathe, sweetheart—please, breathe.

You can’t. You simply can’t.

Oxygen isn’t coming as easily as it should. Your lungs burn. You’re shaking, unable to stop the tremble taking over your body as you choke on your tears. They burn your skin, painting your cheeks with the bitterness of your heartbreak and they just won’t stop. 

He supports you as you sink towards the floor, legs no longer having the strength to hold you up. He goes down with you, hands cradling your head to his chest and you can’t find it in you to push him away and escape his touch.

It’s Matt. Your Matt. 

You shouldn’t want to shrug him off. You shouldn’t feel guilty at his touch. He’s your Matt, has been for the eighteen months you’ve been together. It was meant to be you in that frame, swimming in white with a smile stretched along your lips, Matt dressed to the nines in an immaculate tux and his ever present red shades beside you.

But it’s not. It’s… it’s Karen.

It’s not you, there’s no trace of you anywhere to be seen. Had you been that forgettable? Foggy’s there, Marci a step behind holding a beautiful little girl with ribbons in her hair. They had a baby? You’ve missed so much.

You start weeping for the life you’d missed out on, for the chances and opportunities of growing older with them and the sweet potential you had had with Matt.

Gone.

All of it, just—gone.

Where would you be now had your soul not been chosen? Married? Promoted? A godmother to the sweet little angel cradled in Marci’s arms? 

“Sweetheart, come back to me,” Matt’s voice cuts through your despair, low and soft in your ear and you cling to him tighter, “breathe. I’ve got you, I’m here.”

“I-I’ve lost so much,” you choke out, hiding your tear stricken face in his throat and desperately trying to get ahold of your body jerking with each difficult inhale and broken exhale, “and I didn’t even know—”

You didn’t know. You didn’t know anything when you apparently ‘returned’. It’s all so haunting and overwhelming and so fucking confusing. 

He stills smells the same, feels the same, despite all these years. You cling to him, desperate for comfort in the moment of your utter heartbreak, but it doesn’t work like it used to and that only makes your pain increase tenfold. His hold feels wrong now. His hold isn’t for you anymore. He has a wife.

You still don’t understand. You can’t comprehend the fact that he’s married, that the arms that hold you are now meant for someone else. They were yours this morning. It’s not possible. You had him this morning; you felt him this morning, you kissed him—

“Sweetheart,” he’s urgent now, manoeuvring you in his hold until you sit in front of him, your back pressed up against his chest and his arms tight around your torso, “breathe with me. Feel my chest, listen to me and follow—in… and out. Come on—”

You pay attention to the exaggerated feel of him breathing against your back, focusing on every expansion of his chest and attempting to match the pace of your inhales. It doesn’t work. Your heart still thunders away against your ribs, your mind still runs fucking wild, and your eyes threaten to roll back from the rush of it all.

“Stay with me,” he begs, but his voice starts to sink to the back of your mind, taken over by the high pitched ring sounding in your ears.

It’s not long until black fully engulfs your vision, and Matt’s voice calling your name is the last thing you hear, frantic and terrified. Maybe you'll find peace in the darkness.

-

matty tags: @javier-pena, @dihra-vesa, @a-reader-and-a-writer, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @acourtofsnakes, @mstgsmy66, @evyiione, @stardust-galaxies, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @withasideofmeg, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @fangirl-316, @xoxabs88xox, @federleichtefreiheit, @lavenderluna10, @mindidjarin. @stardustingold, @androah, @itwasthereaminuteago, @wildmoonflower, @naughtynecromancer, @h-hxgirl, @Unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @celestinemuse, @chaoticemz, @alexxavicry, @mylifeispainandiloveit, @cran-berry-vodka, @nishi-reads, @mandocrasis, @lawfulgranola, @ew-erin, @fuckoffbard, @spaceserialkiller, @captain-jebi