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will start repubing some recs! it rarely happens because I am very picky when it comes to the fics I read but tis the season to be in a very bellamy mood.

In the Mountains Shadow

summary: in which he comforts you.

tags: panic attacks. ptsd. hurt/comfort.

w/c: 1.1k.

a/n: no one will ever convince me that the 100 delinquents that were sent the earth, and the subsequent 48 of them that survived mount weather don't have serious ptsd. none of them are okay.

In the late afternoon hours, there was no peace to be found—not for her.

The feeling had come from nowhere, starting so small that she hadn't even noticed it before it crashed against the shore of her emotions, where it shattered into a thousand pieces, and infected her blood. If she could, she'd pull the blood from her veins to stop the feeling.

She was breathing in shallow gasps as she stared at that mountain of death—its shadow looming over her, blocking out the sun until she felt swallowed by darkness. She clutched the handle of the rover to ground herself; her fingers wound so tightly around it that they ached; and her legs wobbled and threatened to give out.

It was getting harder to breathe. It felt like someone had punched her in the chest, grabbed her heart, and squeezed the air from her lungs. Why had she agreed to come back? She never wanted to see this place again, not after...

She gasped loudly and suddenly.

The memories assaulted her all at once, without warning or mercy. The humming of the drill replayed in her ears, a haunting melody that accompanied her torment. Pain scored through her limbs, radiating from the scars on her thighs. Screams echoed around her—Raven's, Abby's, and her own. She could hear Marcus begging and pleading with Cage to stop, insisting that they would donate their bone marrow.

Her stomach twisted into knots, threatening to bring her breakfast up and dump it on the ground right there beside the rover. Waterfall tears fell from her eyes, streaking down her cheeks, leaving her vision blurred. Her body shuddered as a sob welled up in her chest.

"Bellamy..."

Her voice was impossibly soft, so full of fear as the memories of her time inside the mountain continued their relentless assault. She reached out blindly for him, needing something real and warm to hold onto—someone to ground her in the storm that was threatening to undo her. "I don't think I can do this."

She hated this place; no, that was too kind of a word. She loathed this place with every fibre of her being and with every beat of her broken heart.

The mountain was filled with so much needless death—not only the mountain men and grounders but their own as well. Another sob spewed from her trembling lips—the sound gut-wrenching, cutting the dark-haired man to the core—as she remembered being trapped on level five while guards took her friends one by one. They had fought. They had screamed. They had run. None of it mattered in the end.

She remembered Fox's face when they'd found her after everything had been said and done. The blank look in her eyes, the blood dripping from her mouth, the expression etched upon her features, forever frozen in time.

"Oh god."

And then he was there.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and dragged her into the shelter of his body, where she buried her face against his chest, hiding from the world just as she'd done when he found her wandering the halls of the mountain. He felt her ball his shirt in her trembling hands, the material being pulled taunt across his back as her tears soaked the front. Bellamy held her tightly as the tears shuddered through her body. He wanted to cry with her, to break down and be weak, but he couldn't.

They had all been broken by the mountain, left tired and scared, but he couldn't break down. He had to be strong when the delinquents couldn't be; he'd bear it so that they didn't have to.

PTSD ran wild through the survivors of the one hundred, all forty-eight of them, and no amount of talking or time would help. Sure, their wounds would heal and scar, but the psychological trauma—the torment—would remain with them every day until they died. None of them would be okay again.

"She doesn't have to go," Bellamy said, his voice gentle as he patted her head, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing gesture. She didn't have to do this, and he wouldn't make her; he wouldn't let anyone make her.

There was a very strong loyalty that Bellamy felt for the delinquents in particular. He had a great deal to make up for, and going into Mount Weather to save them barely covered it. He would go in again, alone; he could find the things that would make their lives on post-apocalyptic-and-current-apocalyptic earth more comfortable.

Her breath was wild and erratic, impossible to catch. Inside, her lungs were burning, desperate for air, as she sobbed and hyperventilated against his chest. She clung to him without shame, her arms wrapped around his torso. He was the only thing that kept her grounded when the trauma threatened to consume her. "I can't, Bell, I can't." She repeated the words, babbling mindlessly.

She remembered how peaceful the mountain had seemed and how utterly perfect it was—a paradise found in a world trying to destroy them. She had loved being inside Mount Weather. All the history at her fingertips, real food, a soft bed, and books!

There had been so many books.

It was home.

Until Clarke pointed out the flaws and inconsistencies, and then the bubble burst. The mountain men's secrecy had come to light, and the superficial charm of Cage Wallace had peeled away like a snake's skin. She remembered Clarke escaping and how hopeless she'd felt while still trapped inside. But most of all, she remembered the feeling of the cuffs around her wrists and ankles—how her skin had been rubbed raw, cut open, and her bones drilled into.

She had been left devastated. Even the whirring of a power tool at Camp Jaha would send her into a panic. There was no concern that she was appearing weak in front of Bellamy. There was only a fear that she might not escape the mountain alive this time.

Bellamy waved for the others to go on ahead, ignoring their concerned stares. When one of them took a tentative step forward, his arms tightened around her, iron bands of muscle pressing her into his body. Above her, he shook his head, silently telling them not to look or touch.

He knew her; he saw her.

And he knew that comfort from anyone else, especially one of the adults that had been responsible for sending one hundred children to earth, would only break the little resolve she was holding onto. So Bellamy held her as she cried; he let her bury her face against his chest and hide from the world. And when her legs gave out, he went to the ground with her, and he held her still.

"I promise you're not alone," he whispered, his lips pressed against the crown of her head, his own heart breaking. He pulled her closer, held her tighter. "You'll never be alone again."

liking someone makes me absolutely miserable

girl do you have a masterlist? I’m dying to read all your work related to the sturnilio triplets. It’s sooo goood!

love from mexico!

xoxo

thank you and click my bio anytime usually!

but here’s a quick link 😽

oh yuh, update. not much of my opinion changed tbh.

love the conrad angst within the last two episodes, but i feel like they were more entertaining than the whole season.

also steven listening to the diss was my fav scene.

omg, is it that boring? i haven’t seen the new season yet but i’ve seen a few clips and heard some people talking about it and such. damn, i love both fisher boys as i have two stories for the series. i heard tho that steven and taylor are a couple now, ig?

there’s cute little moments within the season and some good angsty parts, but i feel it honestly gets no where and the season ending is just mid. last season was better. steven and taylor i think are so cute and the best part of the season.

i think it could just be a filler season type thing to just build up for next season. i also liked jeremiah better last season, this season i just can’t stand him.

it’s all personal opinion though 💯💯 anyways

EDIT: i also haven’t watched the 7th episode yet, i thought #6 was the last episode 💀💀

Can we get a smart Peter Pan on God and like the Peter Pan from2003 like can we get it in smut on God like I would love to see that where the reader loses her virginity Peter Pan

bro WHAT 😭

lorenzo’s luck.

pairings. mobster!slytherin boys x fem!reader

about. in which it’s been a rough couple of weeks and lorenzo is facing the heat of it all.

warnings. swearing, a beating,

ricky rocks. okay, new idea sense i’ve been watching the sopranos lately and writing generic slytherin boys is getting boring for me rn… also i’ve been seeing some stuff abt lorenzo on tiktok and even something on here and i think i characterized him totally wrong? but also not because i read the book (but not really) he originally came from and he didn’t seem as sweet and innocent as people play him as. idk, i’ll stick to what i have now but lmk what y’all think ig

everything and everyone was on edge.

for the past two weeks the feds had been down your neck, jeopardizing your whole lifestyle and way of work.

everyone was in a pissy mood because of it—because when the feds were on your ass, that meant having to be careful, and your job was hard thing to be careful about when every move you made was highly incriminating. so when being careful, you barely got to work, and no work meant no profit.

it was hard to specify exactly what you did.

you were a mobster.

there it is, in the simplest form.

there was a lot of pressure in being one, especially when law enforcement was there to make things ten times harder.

and it wasn’t only affecting you, but entirety of your group;

“you’re a fuckin’ idiot, lorenzo, you realize that? take a fuckin’ look at yourself in the mirror and stare at something that isn’t just your face and realize you’re a fool,” mattheo’s voice erupts so suddenly through the air, startling all of you. “get your shit together.”

it was already starting. you, theodore, blaise, lorenzo, and mattheo had just barely taken a step into one of the many backrooms of the businesses mattheo’s father owned when the composure came fumbling down.

lorenzo had just barely sat his ass in one of the leather seats when the attention was pinned to him, “jesus, what’s up you’re ass m?” he laughs, but you can tell it’s a nervous one. “jesus.”

you glance to theodore who winces at the response like it was his own. that was the worst possible thing to say, especially to mattheo, especially right now where his anger and frustration was at an all time high.

you can see that anger pulse through his skin in a spike as he finally seems to processes lorenzo’s antagonizing words.

oh boy.

“fuckin’ saved your ass, enzo. you know what my fathers saying? that you’re a loose fucking cannon and i need to let you go,” he has his hand raised, shaking it in his face. “and you know what? we don’t let people go. there’s no such thing as letting someone go in our business. that’s a rare ever occurrence.”

letting someone go is disposing them. taking them out to the back and putting them down like a dog.

“get your head on straight and don’t you forget that you wouldn’t be here without me, because you’d be dead.”

“you act like you’re so fucking clear minded,” he huffs, leaning his head against the palm of hand.

that was enough.

mattheo swings himself around, throwing his fist into the face of enzo as hard as he can. you flinch at the sound of enzo’s nose cracking beneath the contact of mattheo's knuckles. you feel yourself tense up at the noise not letting up, but rather playing over and over, filling the room with ugly sounds of punches fill the room.

“mattheo-“

your call out is cut off as theodore takes your shoulder, pulling you back, “don’t.”

“he’s going to kill him.”

“he won’t,” he pulls you even closer and further away from the violent scene unfolding before you all, tightening his grip. “lorenzo’s too viable.”

he was right. even as enzo was a loose canon, he brought in a lot of profit and kept his end clean… for the most part.

lo was too salient for mattheo to kill, but his loud mouth was enough to tip mattheo over the edge.

it was a perfect way for him to blow off steam; beating in the face of his friend.

***

“don’t you look like a dime.”

it’s been a week since mattheo went on his little rampage, and you were now just seeing lorenzo in his healing state.

you’re smiling up at him, pinching his cheek as he rolls his eyes to your attention, “yeah, yeah, get off my back.”

he looked far from a dime; his nose was broken causing both his eyes to sport dark rings of bruising around them while the lining of his jaw was turning a dark purple and yellow.

“you and mattheo civil now?”

“define your idea of civil.”

“well, you’re not dead, so I assume you two are as civil as civil gets in mattheo’s terms.”

he scoffs, “yeah, well, let’s hope mattheo and his father are on the same page and I don’t end up dead in the next week.”

over a month ago, some of lorenzo’s boys hijacked a truck everyone was told specifically not to mess with despite the fair amount of profit that could come from it. and unfortunately, they dug themselves an already deep hole, deeper by obtaining the truck through a casualty.

lorenzo had received the blame, despite it having nothing to do with him other than the men being under his supervision and responsibility. he had to pay for it, and he did…

“you’re on the higher end of things, he won’t kill you.”

“that’d be the exact reason for him to kill me,” lorenzo corrects you. “I’m on the higher end for a reason, i can’t fuck up.”

you press your lips into a thin line at the thought of his words. mattheo’s beating must’ve really enlightened lorenzo because there was rarely ever a moment you caught him in such a grave mood where he was so in touch with reality.

his attitude on life was light and so unserious; you were unsure on how mattheo even recruited him when that was the exact opposite that this job sought out for. but then again, the boy recruited all of you.

“then don’t fuck up,” he laughs lightly, but it’s caught in the back of his throat. “again.”

“great advice, y/l/n,” he glances at you, “really got that one on the nose.”

“don’t be a douche,” you slap him lightly. “I don’t know what you want me to say, lo. you’re alive, you’ll stay that way too as long as you don’t press your luck.”

“hard to press my luck when I don’t have any in the first place.”

you gaze at the side of his face, attempting to gage the general emotion or even thought process going through his head, but there was nothing. not even his usual perma-smile could be found.

***

“someone approached me awhile ago-“

“who?”

“doesn’t matter who—a clients girlfriend,” lorenzo is anxious, pacing back and forth before all of you in the backyard of mattheo’s home. “i was offered a deal.”

you wince immediately.

lorenzo had collected the whole lot of you; everyone except mattheo. you all sat on his back deck, fixating between the full beautiful greenery backyard of the riddle home and lorenzo, who hadn't spoken till now.

a deal.

he should’ve stopped there.

“a deal?” blaise arched a brow, now leaning on his forearms that rest on his knees. “what kind of deal?”

you all knew exactly what type of deal it was.

enzo’s eyes don’t reach any yours, but he’s stopped pacing, wondering whether he should really speak it now.

don’t say it.

“immunity,” he says it flat out, bringing truth to all of your thoughts. but he doesn’t seem ashamed to this with the way he looks at each and every one of you in the eye finally. “she said once we all get impounded, there’s a way out for me.”

once. not if.

“i tell them everything. i rat every single one of you out and i’m given immunity.”

you all look up at him like he’s crazy. and he is; to be speaking like this to a bunch of mobsters—threatening the entirety of their life and business is crazy.

“we get thirty years plus. there’s no doubt. they get us and we’re already laid in our graves before trial because what we’ve done is absurd-“

“are you saying you’re a rat, berkshire?”

“no,” he shakes his head fast. “no, not at all.”

“that’s not what i’m hearing,” draco shakes his head. “i’m hearing you’re getting nervous with all this recent snooping of the feds and you’re fuckin’ rat.”

“fuck off, malfoy. i’m just telling you what i was told. i’m not a goddamn rat. i’d have to be mental to give up all we’ve done-“ his hand finds his forehead and he’s pacing again. “fuck if i even remember half of it.”

you’re all back to silence, thinking about this. rat or not, this did not look good for him.

your eyes suddenly settle on the light and distant bruising under enzo’s eyes; finally healing. you think about mattheo beating in his face over and over, and then you think about what he’d do if he ever found out about lorenzo’s offer.

“they have a lot of shit on mattheo.”

you all look back up to lorenzo now, a certain interest now crossing each of you again.

“what type of shit exactly?”

“type of shit you don’t get parole with… or out of jail for that matter,” he looks even more stressed than before. “she said the rest of you could have chances of a life after serving. not him.”

this wasn’t a surprise. mattheo always had a quality that none of you did when it came to getting things done; something sociopathic. he always took risk without question of consequence. he moved in silence, he didn’t hesitate, didn’t think, he always got things done faster than all of you combined.

so if mattheo did something beyond all of your usual tasks, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“i mean that makes sense, matty’s been at this longer than the rest of us,” you reasoned it out, only to be stopped immediately.

“no, you don’t understand,” enzo shook his head.

“what exactly are we not understanding here, enzo? you seem to know something, so why don’t you just spit it out,” theodore sits up, speaking for once. there’s obvious annoyance and distaste in his mouth as he stares at the boy before you with a narrowed look.

lorenzo pauses, looking back at him with the same look. you can tell there’s a thought process behind his eyes, and his anxiousness is slowly melting away.

“you know, where do you guys think this is all going? genuinely. you think we’re going to spend the next couple of months running clubs, collecting money, and beating up the occasional person that’s late on their payments for fun?” lorenzo has turned sour, looking at each of you almost as if he hates you all for your ignorance. “this is for life, and we’re only at the beginning point.”

If i knew you irl we would be besties ✌️ I love your fics sm !! ❤️❤️

no doubt 💯💯

and thank you lova !!

hell v heaven.

pairings. harry bingham x fem!reader

about. reader gets scolded by her friend only for harry to defend her

warnings. swearing

from ricky's mailbox to yours. I don't expect anything from this, I just wanted to post because I miss this damn show

west ham was always ordinarily boring and filled to the brim with people who had their pockets filled with more than enough money to know what to do with.

your life was a repetitive process and ran on a schedule that really never changed unless you chose to eat breakfast for once in your life, which you never really did--or take your mom up on the offer to go on walks—which you also really never did.

the day you got off that bus and found no parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, or even siblings was a day you couldn’t help but sigh in relief with finding a loss of obligations and responsibilities. you felt a lift from your shoulders and a greatness fill your chest as you finally let go and fell from your schedule.

but it wasn’t funny and you were no longer having any fun the moment you discovered your situation was permanent and a forest had overgrown all roads and tracks out of this new found nightmare of yours.

“you think god's trying to teach us a lesson?” you looked up from your book seeing your friend maddie who had her lips pressed into a thin line, still trying to figure out this whole predicament.

even as this was a nightmare and you weren’t used to change, you found yourself leaning away from getting caught up in caring so much or getting too emotional about it. you figured you could be in worse situations and at least you were still alive.

“i don’t think it’s that deep,” you mumbled carelessly, flipping the page to your book, not sparing another glance to her till she stands up with a huff and grumble, clenching and unclenching her fists while exiting harry’s living room.

but then she felt herself flipping around, facing you and your slightly confused expression, “what’s your problem?”

you frowned a little deeper as she stood before you with her poised posture, seeming more angered than you had ever seen her, “what?-” you shared a look with harry who seemed just as lost as you did before she cut you off.

“because ever since we discovered we’re trapped here it seems like you couldn’t give a damn and it’s really pissing me off,” she exhaled roughly with her chest puffing in and out with air, like she had been waiting a long time to say this. “you’re not here for anyone and i haven’t heard you cry once either, y/n.”

“you want me.. you want me to cry?” you raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback.

“yes, y/n, because i’m really close to thinking you’re a sociopath-”

“woah, woah, woah, maddie” harry shook his head with his lips deeply curved downwards, “shut up.”

“don’t tell me to ‘shut up’ harry.”

“don’t be a cunt, maddie,” he scoffs, looking at her as if she were a fool. his stare is harsh and she even slowly begins to feel like one with how hard and taunting his eyes are.

if harry had a skill in something, it'd be his way of looking down on people and making them feel his disgust and repulsion toward them. harry had to be one of the most arrogant people you had met, but at least his arrogance came in handy in situations where you needed defense.

"whatever, harry," she rolls her eyes at him, trying to push off the sickening feeling he pushed on to her. "you two deserve each other, especially if you're both enjoying this little vacation we were gifted."

harry sits in the grey chair maddie previously sat in, "you okay?"

"yeah, I'm good."

“you sure?”

you look up to him, finally meeting his dialed in expression that was genuine and curious to your well being.

strange.

it was things like this that gave you somewhat joy that you no longer had a schedule, that kept you from hating your new reality.

west ham turning upside down revealed a lot about your fellow classmates and even best friend’s character, as seen seconds ago. you couldn’t decipher whether or not you found joy in the fact of that, but right now, with harry sitting across from you and close to reach out to you, was something you knew you enjoyed.

before, in your tight knit schedule, harry didn’t fit in it. he was only a family friend you saw at birthdays and conjoined vacations since the beginning of your memory, but nothing more.

“yeah, i’m sure,” you pressed your lips into a thin line.

“i don’t think she understands people handle grief differently,” he looks sympathetic but drops any attempt to move closer with a reach of comfort upon realization that you were really fine.

“you think i’m in grief?”

he pauses, doesn’t look at you for a minute with silence as he narrows his eyebrows before looking up to meet your eyes, “i mean, aren’t we all?”

aren’t we all?

jesus, maybe you were a sociopath.

“i-uh-“

“y/n,” he stops you, shaking his hand. “when-when my father died, i didn’t think it was real. all these people came up to me, your parents, all would walk up, apologize, offer their condolences, but i never really understood. what was the big deal?—just a death, right?”

he offers an awkward smile with a glance through his eyelashes, before looking back to his carpet, “thing was, i didn’t realize that that death, was my fathers death—i mean i did, my body didn’t. i was in denial.”

silence. you both think about his words.

the way he spoke was really smart--it surprised you that it was him that they were coming from. not only did you start to enjoy his company, but his words...

“i shouldn’t have-“

“no,” you cut him from his potential regret in sharing. you knew that took a lot from him. “maybe you're right… or maybe maddie is. maybe i really am a sociopath.”

"y/n, that's an insane thing to say," he shakes his head, still looking down, but now at his hands as he begins to rub them together. "everyone handles grief differently," he repeats, "especially something like this; especially something that feels nowhere near real."

you stare at harry, blinking, while he stares back at you with a thin-lipped smile. you felt your chest tighten to an extreme as you continued to watch, thinking about his words that tumble around in your head. you somehow couldn't grasp it; the reassurance. but rather... you were more hung up on the matter that it was him saying such kind words to you.

everyone knew harry was the biggest asshole in west ham and he had no shame in it. everyone would call you a liar is you ever exposed the conversation; harry didn't have a nice bone in his body, so how was it that he had just created one of the nicest convos you had ever had with anyone?

your chest pulls into a ball even more. you feel like you can't breathe.

what was happening to you?

you hadn't felt a pang of sadness till now.

"you okay?"

you hate that question.

"yeah, i'm okay."

"you sure?" he's leaning towards you, his eyes prying.

you feel the pressure intensify, but this time around your eyes as if something had the need to be forced out.

fuck, not now.

"y/n, woah," he's quick to come closer to you, now kneeling before you with his hands on your face.

“i shouldn’t be crying-“

he shushes you as he tries his best to clear your face from the salty tears that begin to run down your cheeks like a hill. he smiles lightly to your embarrassment while shaking his head, “crying is fine.”

“i feel bad.”

“for what?”

“harry, i don’t even feel bad about them being gone,” you sniff, wiping your face from the wetness quickly. “i feel bad about you and your father and everything.”

“oh?” he seems caught off guard about this, taking a step back from your distraught stare. “why?”

you stare over at him with wide doe eyes, something that looks like fear for the matter of having to provide an explanation. you glance to the side, also leaning away from him, bracing yourself to answer. you feel even more choked up, like your throat had been clogged and stuffed with toilet paper--or whatever it was to help you not speak.

"my parents-" you sniff, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "god, I hated my parents--so I'm not sorry that I'm not sad about something that is ultimately a blessing... but I am sorry that this has happened to you... all of you."

he stares. he feels as if he's about to explode.

"I'm sorry, harry--that you had to lose your father and your mother as fast as you did," you shake your head, "I'm sorry that you think that that's how I feel about my own parents."

why does he feel like this?

his hand is mid air, reaching to clasp his chest as if consoling his heart, but it doesn't goes as far to make contact.

he feels strange. he doesn't know how to cope with someone he has known for so long revealing what must have been the biggest burden on their shoulders, hidden in plain sight from him, as well as gushing about sympathy for him--he hates that.

as for the other thing; harry had known you since the beginning of time, he knew your parents since the beginning of time. you were both absorbed within the same lifestyle but the two of you were never anything more than acquaintances.

he found it strange that he could see your life so clearly like it was his own, but it seemed that was only the surface of a glass window that only you and your family allowed people to see.

"y/n, you're not a sociopath," he finally says, "sociopaths don't feel sympathy for other people. you're just in a difficult situation that no kid will understand because their parents are their heroes."

he pinches the bridge of his nose, finally looking up to you, "you also shouldn't feel bad for me."

you looked at him confused, urging him to explain.

"none of us are saints, y/n. somehow i think we all deserve this," he runs a hand down the front of his face. "you... you're just somehow better than the rest of us, this is a vacation god has granted you."

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head.

he smiles in return before dropping his face into a softer expression, reaching for your hand, "you good?"

"yeah, i'm good," you nod.

"good," he squeezes your hand. "enjoy heaven while you have it."

i need more george mackay content

i am all for it!! just need inspo/requests/little ideas if any of you have any 😁😁

omg, is it that boring? i haven’t seen the new season yet but i’ve seen a few clips and heard some people talking about it and such. damn, i love both fisher boys as i have two stories for the series. i heard tho that steven and taylor are a couple now, ig?

there’s cute little moments within the season and some good angsty parts, but i feel it honestly gets no where and the season ending is just mid. last season was better. steven and taylor i think are so cute and the best part of the season.

i think it could just be a filler season type thing to just build up for next season. i also liked jeremiah better last season, this season i just can’t stand him.

it’s all personal opinion though 💯💯 anyways

EDIT: i also haven’t watched the 7th episode yet, i thought #6 was the last episode 💀💀

we need more conrad fisher pls

bro i want to write more for him, but also was it just me or was this season kind of boring? like i was more entertained by steven and what’s her face than belly and her boy issues.

anyways i’ll think of something :)

I randomly stumbled upon all the mighty ducks Adam banks fics you’ve made and they are so cute, didn’t know I needed to read mighty ducks fics till now!

thank you!! they’re so fun to write, i’m glad you also enjoy them

your fics are too damn good 😞 im obsessed

thank you 😭😭😭

babe you’ve gotta start writing for blaise:((!!! ur writing is so good

omg, i will!! i have like a single draft on him though so if any of you have requests/ideas, hit me with them

just binged through all of your slytherin boys stuff after rediscovering your account and it really had me giggling and twirling my hair

i just be like that. got myself like that sometimes when writing:

and thank you 😭

bae ily 💘

bae ilyt 🤍

OMGG UR FINALLY BACK 😭😭😭

i’m so bad at answering my inbox but 😭😭

HIII I MISS POSTING. hopefully i keep it consistent for once 💯💯

i do what i have to do.

pairings. bellamy blake x fem!reader

part two of two.

about. in which you point your gun at someone you never thought you’d point it at.

warnings. swearing

ricky rocks. look who finally finished a year old one shot/fic/whatever you call it 🤗🤗

bellamy coudn’t hurt you even if he wanted to. so, when mumbling the words, ‘move or i’ll kill you’, you could see right through his bluff by the way his eyes so willingly betrayed him, filled with... hurt.

in all truth, bellamy believed you would have shot him if it would have come down to that, and maybe that’s what pained him most. he wouldn't hurt a hair on your head, and you would have, but only for the best interest and safety of arkadia and your friends. 

you never wanted to hurt bellamy, but recently you really, really wanted to slap him upside the head for all the stupid shit he had been doing. and maybe a gun scare would knock some sense into him, or maybe it would only put him deeper into the hole pike was digging for him. 

bellamy yanked you to your feet quickly after the two of you had seemed to have recovered from all the commotion that had just taken place. you weren't sure whether or not he wanted to get you away from the increase in rowdy crowd or to have his way with you first. 

you were beginning to think it was the last option as he marched down the hall with you in front of him, gripping your left arm while the other pressed against your back. one, two, three, four more steps before he shoved you into one of the guards rooms, his room. 

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he let go of your arm with a slight shove causing you to stumble forward a bit. he looked angry, more than you had ever seen him and more than you would have ever wished to see.

“bellamy, don’t start with me,” you mumbled, raising a finger to harshly accuse him... for something. “if you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”

he scoffed, looking beyond dumbfounded with his mouth slight agape, not believing the words that had just came from your mouth.

“stop fucking talking,” he needed to think. he begun to pace back and forth, and you had no idea what to do with yourself as you watched him. “i need to get you out of here.”

"what?"

he gives you a dumbfounded look that was filled with a sense of urgency, "y/n, you just shot someone that can have you dead within seconds. you don't leave, someone’s going to do exactly what you did, and take justice into their own hands."

"you should have let me finish the job."

"we're not starting this," he grips your shoulder before pushing you by your upper back. "people are leaving. o, kane, miller—you go with them. you stay, they'll kill you."

"how do you know this?" you mumbled, glancing back at the mention of your friends and the planned escape you all had developed. bellamy was considered a traitor to you all, so he would be the last person on your list to concern with the escape plan. 

"eyes everywhere."

you narrow your brows at him, "you're coming with."

he narrows his brows in shock, not expecting you to say this, you share the same expression, also shocked by yourself. the past month would explain this--not only had you watched your world at arkadia fastly crumble after the slow rebuild of humanity, you also witnessed your relationship with bellamy slowly tank moment after moment while his with pike was created.

so, offering passage was an absurd idea. after all the betrayal.

he seems to wince after his surprisal settles but is quick to keep a straight face as best as he can, "you're getting the wrong idea."

"am i?"

"we're not friends anymore, y/n. this isn't old times," his words are intentionally stinging, but you don't miss the look on his face that betrays him. "you can't save me if that’s what you’re thinking. I don't need to be saved, i know what i’m doing."

you frown, "bellamy, you need to stop acting like there's never going to be a happy ending for you before it comes true. leave with us."

"you know i can't do that."

"why not?"

"I dug myself in too deep this time," his face was still stone cold, but it didn't prevent remorse from blossoming in your chest. "maybe if you weren't such a terrible shot, this would be all over."

***

in well under an hour bellamy had you out of arkadia, alone. your friends had left a lot sooner than thought and no matter how much begging you did—expectedly—bellamy left his mind unchanged. 

you knew exactly where your friends were going—where they’d be. it was a long and lonely hike but it was enough time for reflection.

you miss the time where you felt like a kid still. where you were young and reckless and full of hope that you’d finally get to be free upon that first step off the drop ship. that you had purpose and will and fighting was something you hadn’t really minded aside from the possible side affect of death.

now you were tired. you just wanted to lay your head down for once and not think about the pointless rivalry purging your everyday life.

“y/n, you’re okay,” octavia pulls you into a tight hug, a certain relief setting over. “god, after we hadn’t seen you, we assumed the worst.”

“i’m okay,” you gave her a thin-lipped smile, “thanks to your brother.”

“bellamy?” she seems shocked, like that’s the first courteous thing he’s done for someone in years.

“yes,” you nod, understanding the hostile tone she almost takes with his name. “i think he might’ve saved me.”

“where is bellamy?” miller speaks causing you to realize they had all emerged from the cave.

"he's gone."

"dead?"

"no,” you shake your head, “he stayed behind. he said he had to fix some thing’s before he showed his face again.”

octavia mentally rolled her eyes, but kept her composure as she watched you, “you’re here. that’s all that matters.”

***

“is he dead?”

“indra has him.”

“bellamy-“

“y/n,” he gives you a pointed look at your protest. “you know that’s as good as dead.”

he was right. pike killed her people, that was far from unforgivable. he’d be lucky to receive death.

“she didn’t kill you.”

he shook his head, keeping his eyes low to the ground, “thanks to o.”

it took a day for bellamy to find you all. his face was beaten and bloodied, but you knew better than to ask what the cause was. he had a lot of enemies at the moment and it wasn’t like this was something out of the blue for him. you would've been surprised to see a clean face.

“she doesn’t hate you as much as you think.”

“i’d like to think she doesn’t hate me at all,” he presses his lips into a thin line. “you’re right though.”

you nod, trying to look sympathetic.

“about everything. i’m sorry.”

your mouth slightly opens in shock from not anticipating his words; apology and admitting.

“i’m sorry too,” you nod, swallowing harshly as you think about having that gun pointed inches from his face. “i would’ve never shot you.”

“you sure?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell he’s genuine when asking. “could’ve guessed otherwise.”

“guessing will only hurt you,” you tease, but quickly drop the blitheness. “i shouldn’t have done it, but i was scared… and angry.”

“i know,” he whispers, “we do what we have to do, right?”

“right.”

“then if that means shooting me to knock some sense into me, do it.”

a laugh gets stuck in the back of your throat at the preposterous thought of it. the funny thing was you knew he wasn’t joking. classic bellamy, putting himself in harm’s way.

“me a couple months ago would be more than happy to oblige,” you shake your head, making it his turn to laugh.

“us a couple months ago was a different story. i’m sure we already had guns to each other’s throats.”

you laugh with him, “yeah.”

“never again.”

nodding, “never again.”

you stare at one another now, quiet and calm. you don’t think you’ve ever had a moment like this with bellamy before.

you’re not sure what to do, but bellamy does.

your months of angsty butting heads leading to civilness, then ultimately leading to radio silence on both of your ends due to pike, had killed him. and now, here you were, back in his grasp of more than just civilness, he couldn’t let that go.

“i lied,” he mumbles, suddenly shifting from the rock he sat on. “instead of shooting me…” he’s leaning now, hovering, and just barely resisting the urge to complete his intentions. you feel his breath fan your face; feel, because your eyes are shut. “please, just kiss me.”

his nose is slotted against yours, still hovering as he watches you beneath his eye lashes. his lips are so close… so close to yours, it’s killing him that he waits.

“i’m sorry, but i have to do this,” he smiles before finally pressing his lips against yours.

@thecraziestcrayon @mynewnamedoesnotmatter @myalupinblack @cc13723things @Uselesssapphickitten @black-rose-29 @reality-runaway @let-love-bleeds-red @rudypankowisdaddy @the-anxious-youth @kitkat-mini @itzstacie @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @dayanaralight @nyx3028 @hizziestial @ritz-hell-hotel @fruitiseavey @kayalect @deathtobarbie @areil4 @strnqer @mystic-writings @gbrownn @moonlighy @straightzoinked @thelaststraw3 @navyabhatnagar @alexxavicry @esposadomd @lupinsluvbot

cherry pie.

pairings. louis partridge x fem!reader

summary. reader never would have thought about getting high until she seems to have lost all her morals in one night with a boy she had never met before.

warnings. swearing, underage drinking and smoking

ricky rocks. YALL PLEASEEE bare with me. you can probably tell this is an older story because of the format, but just disregard the first half, i know it’s the lower end of my writing. it kinda gets better 😬 (edit: this story is so mid, i’m just trying to clear my drafts)

the room danced with colors, so many colors and shades you seemed to have never seen before. unfamiliar with their cause and purpose, unsure why you couldn’t touch them; it frightened you with the way they moved around, the way they twirled around your head like little ballerinas.

you swallowed, dropping your head back against the grungy brown couch sat in the corner of one of the back rooms of connor’s house, a boy you found yourself calling on day after day for the past two months for fun, and by fun you meant sex.

but tonight, you hadn’t seen the boy for what you could count as hours. there were other things on his mind rather than a high off their ass you. other pretty girls with less clothing on their bodies and longer hair that was paid more attention to than your own.

you couldn’t care less at that point in time as you felt so deep in a haze, nothing could pull your attention. nothing, until the seat next to you sunk in from the pressure of bodyweight and another high body, seeing the same things you were seeing, feeling the same things you were feeling. 

he just had it more under control. 

“you going to stare at the ceiling all day, love?”

you rolled your head to meet the eyes of a crazed blonde with matching brown eyes. delight swirled in his irises while he looked at you with also dazed eyes, almost ceased shut from swelling of the high. you looked amazed right back at him despite sober you would have been disturbed, never seeing a person so out of their mind.

“who are you?” you stared at him, shocked. 

“your new boyfriend,” he wiggled his eyebrows, jumping and readjusting himself up against you, his arm now slinging up and over you shoulders. a new kind of energy swelling through his chest, “i say we go on a date.”

he stared in front of him focused full hearty, as if visualizing something at that moment. you squinted, looking to where he was looking as if trying to see what he was seeing, but not enough weed could put you on his level. 

“i say, we leave right now, get some pie, maybe some coke. whatever you like sweetheart, i’ll give it to ya.” “I think your sweetheart wants some space, jake,” your eyes looked from the boy who sat next to you, jake, to the boy who now stood before the two of you, an unimpressed look on his face. his arm reached out to jake, practically yanking him from your side. “alright pal, let’s go for a walk.”

you watched jake stumble into him, “but louis, she’s pretty.”

louis glanced back over his shoulder as he begun to pull jake away from the couch and toward the door, now really coming to your attention. his eyes raked you up and down before smirking a little bit, nodding to himself, “sure man, she is.” 

he begun to walk away with jake wrapped around his shoulder before you got up fast almost tripping over your feet, not wanting them to go, “wait, i want a pie.” 

he looked back at you and your disoriented self. your shoulders were slung low, making you smaller than you actually were. your hair was all staticky, hanging above your head like a crown, and your eyes; dilated and filled with innocence.

he smirked, looking you up one more time before nodding you over, cuing you to follow after him, his arm still holding jake to his toes.

the boy’s car was blue. louis’ car was blue. it was one of those old, nice, restored cars that must have been worth thousands. the interior had light brown leather seating that made noise every time you shifted and readjusted yourself due to the old springs lying beneath. it made you giggle as you sat next to him in the front seat, jake lying in the back due to him not being just high, but rather cross faded. louis had apparently found him completely plastered out of his mind once he had first arrived at the party, leading him to hand jake a blunt to finalize his out-this-world experience. it wasn’t smart, but it kept louis entertained to say the least.

louis had glanced at you multiple times as he drove through the silent streets. he seemed eager or maybe even a little irritated as he watched you bounce around, lacking the ability to sit still as your eyes darted everywhere, from street lights to stop signs to anything that’d fully occupied your vision.

“have you ever been high before?” he asked, stopped at a stop light with red lights shading upon both your faces.

“nope,” your eyes wandered across the ceiling of his car. you ran your fingers along the soft carpeted interior—strange, but very stimulating and soft—making you feel all fuzzy inside of satisfaction. “louis, i love you car.”

he chuckles lowly, directing his eyes back to the road, “a lot of people do,” his lips were turned upwards into a slight smirk. it made the fuzzy feeling in your stomach turn warm as there was something very satisfying about just the way he looked. “we’re here.”

your eyes flick to the front of you where your visions bursts with neon lights beaming from the large “diner” sign pinned against the small vintage looking building. you're quick to slip out of the car to the euphoric sight.

“y/n!"

you stopped in your tracks at the sound of your name, glancing over your shoulder where your eyes immediately find a group of boys congregating together with one single boy appointed to attention to you. 

louis. 

"hold on. give me a minute, guys," you watch louis from five feet away, brush his friends off despite the yearning looks of amusement on all of their faces, looking between the both of you. he’s far from bothered or just doesn’t notice; brushing them off before meeting you to where you stood.

it was a wednesday after school. the sweet sound of louis’ voice and sight of his captivating face was the last thing you thought you’d come across. it must’ve been a mutual feeling with the way he looked you up and down, all winded looking. 

"you're a hard person to find."

"you've been looking for me?"

"of course," he has a cigarette in his mouth.

"I almost didn't think you were real."

"of course i'm real, sweetheart," he grins harder at you. "that fucked up, were you?"

you snort. if not being able to remember half of what took place that night counted for being fucked up, you took the trophy.

"well, alright. i'll take that as you had a pretty good night."

"one of the best."

“good,” he grins, “that’s a rare occasion for girls like you.”

“girls like me?” you scoff, arching a brow. his sentence could easily be something taken for offence, but the lighthearted tone to his voice only proved he was looking to mess with you. 

“yes,” he laughs with you. “usually drinking is the only thing you’d catch a teenage girl doing for non-sober purposes.” 

you nod, agreeing, because he wasn’t wrong, “i’ve had a fair amount of experience with alcohol and let me just say, i’ll be steering clear of that for a while.” 

“ah,” he tips forward on his feet in amusement. “i could’ve guessed you’re a wild one with your liquor, y/l/n. make some questionable choices.” 

you feel your face heat up in thought, “i won’t say you’re wrong.” 

louis lets out a small huff of laughter, before pausing all movement. he stares at you for a moment with narrow brows, as if trying his best to read you, “you ever wanna smoke with me, just let me know, alright?” he patted your back before suddenly walking past and away from you. your back was to him now but you could hear pat pat pat of his feet in the grass.

you frown, your eyes finding the cracks of the sidewalk as you think of how brief and unusual that was. you feel a large hole in your chest of unfulfillment. 

“louis, wait,” you shifted around rather quickly as a reality hit you, but you didn’t make any moves to chase after him. he turned as well as if waiting for it. “you uh, you didn’t tell connor i was with you guys, did you?”

yikes.

that’s not what he wanted to hear. 

louis pinched the bud of his cigarette, nodding to himself, thinking contently to his answer before exhaling, a thick cloud of white swirling out into the air before your eyes. you feel dazed, still high from the days before, filled with such naïve joy and lost thoughts of things you couldn’t remember now.

he threw his cigarette on the ground, eyes meeting yours again, only they were hard now and filled with no light heartedness like all times before. and his voice wasn’t soft or full of amusement either but dry as he stared you dead in the eyes, “why, he your boyfriend?”

your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your eyes not meeting his for a while until after you thought about your answer. and it was an easy answer, no, but it was never something you’d ever consider a question. 

“no, no he’s not.”

“you sure about that?”

“not my type,” you smile slightly, examining louis’ pale cheekbones and facial features, the cold of the weather turning his complexion slowly red. your eyes drag to reach his red chapped lips.

him, he was your type. 

“enough of your type for you to fuck him,” he gave you a pointed look as if he had caught you in the act of something, and almost immediately your cheeks burned, like you were caught for something you knew you shouldn’t have been doing. 

you didn't understand why or how he knew. louis was someone you didn't know at all and what you and connor did was something you didn't tell anyone.

"you're surprised?"

"yes."

"why do you care what he knows, let alone fuck him?" he doesn't say anything more on how he knows like you hoped he would. "if he's not your type?"

you bite into your bottom lip, wincing because you didn't know the answer to it, "I don't."

"but you do," he slightly smiles but it's only out of annoyance as his voice catches up to cut you off on your lie. "I think you do, y/n. and you just don't want him to know we kissed."

"your mouth tastes like cherry."

"so does yours."

fuck.

"no, louis..." you wince, immediately regretting stopping him. "that's not what I meant. he doesn't mean anything to me."

he scoffs, "funny."

he doesn't believe you. not even close.

"you know he has label on you."

"a what?" you frown immediately, taking a step forward out of instinct.

“i’m a fool to think you’d ever stop liking him,” he holds his face, running his fingers along the sharp lines of his jawbone as he thinks about his idiotic hope that’d you so fastly fall for him as you did with connor. “foolish to think you’d drop him over one night.”

you’re even more confused now, “it was one night, louis.”

“you act like there isn’t the possibility that i’ve known you even before that night, y/n,” he has a smile that comes on his face but it isn’t something genuine. it’s annoyed. “your jerkoff of a boyfriend isn’t as secretive about you as you think.”

“he’s not my boyfriend.”

he scoffs, “you keep saying that.”

“because it’s true.”

“do you know what he says about you?”

“obviously not, louis,” four steps forward, four steps closer. “you keep speaking of ‘labels’ and whatever, but why don’t you just say it. what does he say about me that is so crazy?”

he didn’t expect the sudden brief and assertiveness you pull with your movement and words. it knocks him into a slight revelation as all he can do is stare at you and breathing, memorizing this side of you. 

“did he say i was a whore?” that was the only possible thing that you could think of at that moment that could be so bad. “he tell you i was a slut?”

it’s silent. you watch him think and the way he unintentionally avoids your hard stare with the thought process.

“ask him yourself.”

**

“has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes.”

you feel your face burn upon the comment. everything in your body felt as if was about to burst upon the simple company of louis. even though it had to of been hours since connor’s house, and the diner, and even dropping jake off at his own home, you still felt out of your mind in the best way possible. all of your sense were still high, but your vision was fuzzy and you felt lag in your movement.

how were you still high?

“you have,” you felt yourself giggle, to which he smiles with a tip of his head, watching you.

“cute,” his fingers rubbed against his mouth in thought before reaching to you. you felt yourself inhale sharply at his sudden movement and hold your breath once they reached their destination; raking through your hair. “how does he do that to you?”

“what?”

“nothing,” he shook his head, still twisting his fingers through soft strands of your hair. you feel yourself relax, watching him and the way he seemed so focused on just you. “you’re just very pretty, y/n.”

you feel your eyes slightly widen, but his face doesn’t shift at all. he’s calm, while you feel your entire body burst once more into heat. you’re itching to move, you can’t just sit still in that burning warmth beneath his stare. you feel yourself move, leaning forward on your knees so your lips meet louis’.

louis smiles against the pressure of your lips against his--he almost forgets to kiss you back because of it. 

almost. 

his hands rack up and down the front of your body, lightly pressing into the hold he had around your rib cage, as if willing to crush you beneath his grasp as long as that meant you wouldn’t leave. this contact isn’t enough even for you. you want to feel him all over and the heavy hands holding your body isn’t enough. 

you’re on his lap now, one of your hands holding the top of his shoulder while the other claps his cheek. louis feels as if his own body is about to burst beneath you... this is all he has wanted, for a while, and now that he’s got it, he feels it’ll destroy him. you’re ignorant to his feelings, but you feel just as feverish with your heart thump-thumping within your chest, as if speaking to his. 

“your mouth tastes like cherry,” your chest is heaving up and down as you pull away, your wide stare boring into his own eyes with something of delirium. 

he’s smiling wide, tipping his head back against his seat to see your face better, “so does yours.” 

now you smile, “i like you louis.”

he almost groans, rolling his head side to side at the sound of those precious words, “you’re killing me,” he pulls the sentence straight out of his mouth like it was sarcastic, but he meant it, “say it again,” he wanted it. 

“i like you,” you repeat, this time his hand is on your cheek. “please kiss me.” 

oh, jeez. 

he stares, breathless, “okay.” 

***

it was a week after your fallout with louis and you couldn’t think about anything other than that. you felt a sudden emptiness and need for something that you barely even had; louis. 

every little micro interaction you had with him ran through your mind like a record, over and over till you felt you were going to throw yourself off a cliff. and it wasn’t just the connor comment--which was something you really, really couldn’t stop thinking about--but the seemingly quick liking he had taken to you. 

it had caught you off guard, but the more you thought about it, the more curious you became as to the whole thing; which was what led you here; connor’s house, on a friday night where he was once again throwing. 

“what have you been saying about me?” you stood in front of him, connor, your vision narrowed as you stared at him, examining him as if his whole existence was strange. 

“what?” his confusion was genuine as this question was rather abrupt and you made no attempt to make introductions. 

“you know louis partridge?” 

connor looks between you and the people he currently stood with, confusion still reeking his features, “yes..?”

“what have you been telling him about me?”

“you want to talk about this somewhere else?” 

“i want a straight answer,” you feel his hand wrap around your bicep, pulling you away from his crowd without an answer from you. 

“which i can give you if you weren’t so vague... why are you talking to partridge?” 

“you got a problem?”

the two of you are stopped in front of a boy; jake. 

“no, man, i think we’re good,” connor pays him no mind, side stepping him fast with you still in grip, continuing to interrogate you. you ignore connor, watching jake the whole way you’re being pulled while he watches you. you feel as if the boy isn’t real, like he was someone you had made up when you were high, but there he was, staring just as shocked, but equally skeptical as you were pulled further and further from him. 

“are you listening to me, y/n?”

“what?” 

“i asked you what you were on about?” you’re now in an empty corner, secluded away from the rest of the party. “haven’t seen you in days and you’re on a tangent about a boy you barely know, what’s going on?”

you finally focus on him, barely processing the words he was putting in your ears, but you didn’t have to in order to hear the fake sympathy and concern. 

“how do you know louis?”

he shurgs, “see him every time i throw. gotta get to know my usuals.” 

“yeah, and how well have you gotten to know him?”

he shakes his head, feeling attacked, “why?”

“because i think it’s my right to know what you’ve been saying about me to him and whoever else,” the seal of your calmness breaks as you extend an arm out, ready to scold him for anything he was about to say. 

his expression drops in return, knowing any attempt to make you calm and make the situation subtle was out of his hands. connor knew you well enough to know you were too far into your frustration to calm you down. 

“what’re you talking about?”

but that didn’t mean he had to comply. 

“your new choice in men is obviously not working out for you. even they know i’m the best you’ll ever have.” 

“what?” your head drops forward, taken aback at the sudden escalation connor had taken to his approach in words. “what the fuck are you on about?” 

he smirks, pushing the red solo cup he had up to his lips, glancing around before looking back down to you, “why else do you think he lied to you about whatever it is you’re asking?”

“i can’t believe this,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “pull yourself out of that goddamn lie before you make yourself look even more like a fool. what have you been saying about me?”

“i find it best you don’t lie about this one, mate. you have an audience of witnesses,” there’s a hand on your back and a voice intervening. 

the two of you focus to louis who suddenly stands behind you, daring connor to push it. the boy looks confounded looking between you, louis, and the crowd of boys behind him. he doesn’t know what to do within the corner he had backed himself into. 

“whatever, this is my own fucking party. i don’t need to do shit,” he shoves past all of you. you all watch him storm away, not looking back, leaving you all to yourselves in the dust. 

“let’s talk,” louis says immediately the moment you look up to him, nodding off in a random direction. 

you slowly nod, following him. 

“i didn’t think you’d actually ask him.” 

a laugh gets caught in the back of your throat, shaking your head at the ignorance as he opens the passenger door to his car for you, “yeah?”

“yeah,” he slides into his own side of the car. “but then again, what would i know about you?”

“a lot, apparently. more than i would guess,” you lean your head against the palm of your hand, staring at him carefully. “you gonna tell me what he said now?”

louis looks hesitant, not even looking at you anymore as he thinks on how to answer. he doesn’t want to answer, it’s that simple, but he owes it to you to give you something sense he was the one who told you in the first place. 

“when i met connor, he talked about you a lot. a lot for someone i barely saw. it was like every party he had something new to say or nothing new at all. as long as it was you he was talking about,” he smiles to himself, thinking of all the bragging and praising he had put into you, all for connor to just... “you were like a prize to him, y/n--until you weren’t. he called you easy, but you were his. he said he could walk you like a dog because he was the only guy you thought of.” 

you feel rage and annoyance fume in the base of your chest as he speaks. he can see it form in your eyes, take over any look of calmness or subtlety from before. you make a move to push yourself back and out the door but louis is quick to grab your arm, pulling you right back to him, only closer. 

“hold on there, cowgirl,” your almost in his lap. “you’re better than that.”

“am i?” you’re squirming, almost pulling from the grasp his grasp if it weren’t for how warm he made you feel.

“yeah,” he’s smiling at you. “why waste any more of your time with him anyways when you could just be here with me?”

you couldn’t help but fall victim to the pulling sensation on your lips to smile at him. you feel that fuzzy feeling creep up into your stomach at his stare like the first time you were both alone in his car and suddenly all your anger at connor melts away.

“only if you offer me cherry pie.”

@aliyahsutherland @ioveisabel @multifandom-obsessed @remuslupinluvr @cryinginsanity @rebbyr @cc13723things @p-prettysour @sweeth0lland @heyitsmeimdead @ishwiya @thehuntress09 @Anushi @ss-tipton @black-rose-29 @rrosecar @thedeadlythoughts @amourtentiaa @instabull @rudypankowisdaddy @sunsetcurving @225786As @lukewearingbeanies @voiddtrinity @kiramdd @oliviasrodrighoe @s8xwz @highkeygolden @kitkat-mini @anicon_bby @itzstacie @spencybear @Msvrgs914 @whoreforsophialillis @w0nderr @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @i-love-scott-mccall @alexmercer-reginaldpeters @greengarsstuff @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @dayanaralight @felixulvr @demigirl-with-problems @hizziestial @whoreforpsychopaths @sunsetcurve-95 @siriusspuppyy @mxsmwndr @youdontlikethatdoyoucupcake @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @xivilivix @morganaah @eichenhouseproperty @confusedchildstuff22 @alliechickens @moonlighy @ancientimes @gabeisinluv @thelaststraw3 @i44nishi @navyabhatnagar @iluvt4ylorswift @liltimmyst @falcvns @alexxavicry @grxcisxhy-wp @esposadomd

instagram au.

pairings. matt sturniolo x fem!reader

ricky rocks. MATT GIRLIES ‼️

instagram au.

pairings. chris sturniolo x fem!reader

ricky rocks. i’m actually in that phase in life where i want a boyfriend 😭😭 extremely down bad !!

so i’ve decided, (even though this is the first time i’ve tried to interact with you and i literally stumbled onto your page yesterday) that we are best friends.

mwah, besties at first sight.

Hi! I have a question :)

Do you write for Tewksbury too or only for Louis Partridge?

I wanted to request something for the character but not for the irl actor idk how to explain, sorry english is not my first lenguage-

honestly, just for louis because i've never watched enola holmes. but i'll consider this because he looks so YUMMY in the second one.

i'll keep you updated.

is best player, best bet still ongoing?

nope! it is finished.