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mrlxys · 3 months ago

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•°. *࿐ 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐒

➣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! jock!ari levinson x fem!reader ( uni au )

➣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! angst, fluff, swearing, sexual innuendos, MENTAL HEALTH TOPICS (!!!)—depression, sui, sui ideation, sh, (PLEASE REACH OUT IF YOU NEED HELP 💌) DARK THOUGHTS, anxiety, depression implied, kissing, pet names, some things might not make sense.

➣ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ! i thought of this and… yeah. if you need help, i beg of you, please reach out. people want you here, and im so proud you’ve made it this far. please stay, prove to yourself you can make it and make it happily. do not read if the warnings are a trigger, please.

━━ SUMMARY :: a questionable pair made out of the blue

➺ ❛ ⌗ classmates to lovers ❜

❪ masterlist ❫ ⋆. ⟢ ˚

The leaves were falling, the sweat that would glisten on the back of your neck was no longer forming, the sun dulling to a soft shine with a gentle breeze that made the leaves on the ground rustle in a cluster. The season was changing, and it felt like your emotions would be, too. Like usual. This was your favorite time of year, every year. A light blow of air with the multicolored leaves, the trees that stood tall with a crunching sound beneath your shoes. Jackets on, nights out, candles blown—a smile on your lips that would never falter, the warmth of the silence that engulfed you whole as you sat on a bench by your favorite river.

But that didn’t seem to happen this time. Your eyes were duller, your cheeks pallor instead of the usual pink, features decorated with fatigue that’s weighed you down for ages now instead of the lightness you let yourself get carried away by alongside the gusts that blow the leaf you’d be staring at for a long moment. It was all falling apart, and it had been for a while now, but no one seemed to notice. Why would they? You never talked, you never spoke, never let yourself express the destruction your mind dawned you with every day. Excitement and joy were foreign, as if this time last year, you weren’t spending every free second you had near that one bookstore no one visited, with the elderly lady who knew you by name, with a journal in hand and your headphones on.

At least you still had your headphones over your head, though no one really knew if you ever listened to anything or it was just an excuse so people didn’t talk to you. Attention span deteriorated along with your sleep schedule, so your focus during lectures and classes was nonexistent. Previously known as the quiet girl even in university, and it had almost made you laugh when you first heard it in your first year. Now it just reminds you why you’re quiet in the first place. Your passion for anything had crumpled like the goodbye letters in the trashcan of your dorm room. There was truly no explanation of how you got here, and you’re not even sure you could figure it out with your blurry memory.

Everything you do remember is scattered, like you blacked out one moment and woke up the next. But that’s everyone, right? This… attempt to convince yourself into most things you somewhat believe now. Whether that’s your brain trying to keep you alive, or it’s genuinely what you’ve deluded yourself into thinking, it’s what keeps you going. The trying is what matters, the way you’ve kept it all going still, even if it’s all so monotonous now. The warm colors that would make you radiate your own joy into everything that surrounded you, even if it was the atmosphere itself, were now so… muted. Like the light you used to see the world in finally turned against you after revealing itself as darkness, and that was the worst betrayal of all.

How could life be so cruel? To fill you with such immense pain you struggled to grasp onto reality, that you were living and breathing? The way you wake up each day for what’s felt like a millennium, with such drainage and slack that even you have given up on trying to convince yourself of otherwise. What heartlessness have you done to make life hate you this way? To make you hate yourself? You’ve given up racking your brain for an answer, given up staring at your ceiling as if it would write the answer itself, given it all up. Things were the same, and yet simultaneously, it absolutely wasn’t. Not that anyone gave you the time of day to see it. How you’ve held on this long is beyond you.

The crunch under your boots was still the same, it just seemed tuned out this time around. Your bag slung over your shoulder as you headed to your Art class, a bit late due to lack of motivation. And the fact that you weren’t meant to wake up. Because you were a bit late, the last row was already full of people, down to the very last seat in the corner. Your lips in a thin line as you walked to the row before the last, ignoring the fact that the seats behind you seemed to be occupied by the ‘popular’ kids. It’s university, you’d expect people to be more grounded, but no…

As usual—well, for the last month now—you folded your arms in that oversized sweater of yours you’ve worn for the third time this week, and rested your head between them. You were in the corner, nearly shadowed since the light above you no longer worked. No more participating, no more small talk, no more helping others with their work. Not that you were so very outgoing before, but you didn’t mind to squeak a little and help here and there when you were done with your work. Falling behind didn’t seem like that big of an issue anymore, nothing did. The thoughts seemed to crowd your head again, filling it with the same old nonsense you’ve grown to believe over time, and there would be no stopping it. Because that just seemed like a waste of time, even if you had too much of it now.

A crumpled up piece of paper hit the back of your head, snapping you out of it. Not even a roll of your eyes as you exhaled quietly—nearly a sigh. You lifted your head, the voice of your professor finally seeming to click in your head even if you paid it no mind. Not even looking back or down at the ground, the sound of a stifled—multiple stifled laughs—behind you. Of course. This felt like middle school all over again… only more numb. Emotions used to be so fresh back then, even when it did hurt, it stung. Now it was like the gape finally stuck a knife in and left it there. Vaguely hearing a grunt after a hushed voice said shut up and some sort of light slap on the bastard’s shoulder. Not that it mattered. Not that you saw it. Not that it counts.

Another paper seemed to land directly on your desk. Good aim. It was also crinkled in a sphere. You didn’t even wanna know or touch it, unsure if it was even sent as a mockery or a genuine note. But knowing these guys? Probably the first one. Then you heard an I’m sorry just faintly behind you… and there was this cautiousness if you imagined it or not. Wouldn’t be the first. You hesitantly reached over, grabbing it and unfolding the careless scrunch of the paper.

Sorry for that

idiot friend

- A.L.

Ari. Huh. Who would’ve guessed. You gave a nod as you assumed he was watching the back of your head, then crumpled it and let it fall to the floor with the other paper. Class went on as usual, and you caught yourself dozing off. Only thing is, you woke up just before the time was up. Having nothing to pack up, you stared blankly at an empty spot on the wall until the room was considered empty to what it was. A tired sigh, getting up and slinging the tote over your shoulder again. Turning, you saw a head behind you. Soft brown locks covering his face, but you could tell who it was. Where the hell were his friends for this?

An internal scolding before you found yourself next to him, your hand hovering his shoulder before gently tapping. Barely a brush, but it was felt. His head lifted from his muscular arms, sleep written all over his features, even those blue eyes of his that most girls seemed to talk about annoyingly loudly. “Sorry, uh… class is over,” barely a whisper muttered, then taking a step back away from him. He didn’t seem to mind and gave a shake of his head before stretching in his seat.

“It’s fine… just need to stop pulling all-nighters,” his voice was deep enough to have sent a shiver if you weren’t so… ‘down’ with obvious husk while he rubbed his eyes and slung his backpack on his shoulder as well. He didn’t want to sound rude or anything—not that it was implied—because you woke him up. He looked like he meant the genuine reply. “Um, I guess I’ll go now. Still… some things to do,” Ari told you awkwardly with a scratch to his neck, feeling like he had to give you some sort of explanation for leaving… and the fact that he wasn’t going to back to his place to sleep some more.

You carelessly shrugged and let him walk by without another word, not that you did that anymore—talk. After a minute or so, you left as well, leaving the classroom actually empty now. That was that, and it was just another thing your brain drowned out. You couldn’t even overthink your own behavior during that encounter, or bully yourself for a minor word or movement, because your thoughts were faster. Before the vacancy reached and swallowed it down whole.

The next time you see Ari was the very next day, and to top it all off, in the hallway right before that very Art class. He looked more awake, while you… never changed. Days and nights passed and you’d still be frozen in time, with the same void that seemed to consume your entire being and gave you your physical form as what was left. Just barely. A joyous gleam in his eyes with a playful banter that got one of his friends a smack to his shoulder. You didn’t even notice the way your eyes were trained on him, lost in the silence of it all as your head gave you a replica of peace for the day. Even if it was for a split second.

Those crystal blue eyes of his met yours. His features seemed to harden, sending a wave of confusion over your being—but that, too, was a minor fault before it was gone. It lasted for a moment—the schooling of his expression—before he quickly smiled, the gentle one that his exes and hookups always talked about when sharing some story of him. Not that you paid attention anymore… even back then, it was all background noise. Now, even you were your own background boise. Not something to be concerned over. Those irises of his lit up like yours used to, and a flutter of pain gnawed at your heart. The hotness crawled up your neck and left goosebumps behind, the feeling of a memory making its way up at the surface. Like looking in a mirror. And that felt suffocating, the pain you haven’t felt for so long pierced your very soul.

And suddenly, you remember why you prefer to be empty.

You barely registered him saying goodbye to his friends in a joking manner before he was in front of you, a good head taller than you. “Hey,” he said softly, as if sensing something was off. Like it hadn’t been ‘off’ for the last…

A while.

“How’s it going?”

Oh, wow, all the small talk today. What fun. His voice was rather open, as if he was truly trying to make conversation. You bit your lip, eyes dropping to your shoes as you gave a slow nod. “Good…” you seemed to subconsciously lower your voice, skeptic of why someone would talk to you. Let alone Ari.

“Good then…” he nodded, a blank silence filled with slight awkwardness as he picked up on your lack of speech and interaction. As if purposefully trying to make yourself disappear with how you were acting, and in fact, you were. “You heading to our class?” he broke the silence with the question, referring to your class—gesturing to the classroom just a few steps away.

You almost questioned if he had meant ‘our’ as in a shared class or something personal like yesterday. But that was ridiculous, so you quickly bit your tongue and kept it to yourself. Simply nodding in response as another silence fell over you two; like that was your signature instead of the class.

“Right… me too,” he picked back up on the topic, in attempt of his same light tone and small smile that made the dimples under his beard peek. Good fuck, no one ever mentioned he had dimples. Because no one ever stood this close, or paid enough attention. Ari let out a gentle sigh and slid his brawny hands to his pockets, letting the quiet take over once more. He wasn’t one to back away from a moment of stillness—even in words. But he was more fearful that you’d feel uncomfortable, not knowing that silence was all you craved after the chaos you endured thanks to your very mind. He fell into step beside you, out of instinct. “So, you got anything to do today?”

You were quick to catch on, not because you felt bad for him, but because you didn’t want to be a waste of time with far too many things to dread about internally. “You don’t have to talk.” And to be fair, it did sound rude. Nonetheless, you didn’t add to it, didn’t take it back. Only pressed your lips in a thin line and avoided his gaze like he was analyzing you.

“Okay,” he said in a low and curt tone, trying best he could to convey to you that he wasn’t annoyed by any means. Reason being he honestly wasn’t. He simply looked you over, slight concern taking over his expression. However, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. You didn’t have the energy to question things anymore, so you let it be.

You exhaled and shut your eyes, giving a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry,” it was low again, a mumble. Apologizing seemed to be the only thing your life consisted of anymore, especially to yourself. Although, in your head, you didn’t deserve it. The apology. It was just a constant way you could soothe yourself, even momentarily; to heal the wounds you’ve inflicted because it made you feel enough in that moment.

He wasn’t sure what to say to that again. Another sigh, this time from him, looking away for a second. “It’s fine,” which was meant to be told to you, yet it felt like he was only talking to himself. There was this nagging sense in his chest he couldn’t quite point or understand what it was, nearly like disappointment, he just didn’t know why.

The thoughts crawled, the void grew, the moments passed in utter quietness once again. “You don’t have to walk with me,” And as soon as you formed those words, you regretted it. Some part of you regretted it, because he was trying so hard, and you were right there—shutting him down at every turn. No wonder people were quiet around you, no one wanted to feel the same treatment you give yourself each and every day.

“Oh.” And during that last moment, you’ve reached the class. A moment of a wordless sorry in your gaze as you looked up at him, unable to part your lips to articulate an apology this once. He gestured for you to pass through first, and you went and sat in the seat you were in yesterday. And he went ahead and sat behind you, just like yesterday. He didn’t really look at you after that, unsure of what he thought in the moment. Just like every other day, your head went down to your arms as you passed through the day like every other one you couldn’t remember.

You’re not sure when or how or why, but it was sunset, your classes for the day have ended, and you were in the library of your university’s building. It was confusing, on why the so-called popular Ari Levinson had been trying to make conversation with you the whole day, while also being somewhat seemingly disappointed when you had ended every attempt. For God’s sake, his parents had gotten him a penthouse off-campus in some building. His parents had planned Ari’s future since he was an infant. All this made no sense. Though life never made sense, so what else is new.

Your knees up to your chest with your back against the bookshelves. The library was empty, lacking people like it always did. Tall ceiling with what looked like thousands of books and copies all over the shelves. The tables and seats with beanbags and computers for whoever needed them, all new—and definitely unused. A tear made its way down your cheek, it was only not noticed by you. Not the feeling of it and the saltiness, nor the crippling nothingness that filled your being whole. The big wooden doors of the library opened, however you made no move to see who it was. You were in the far corner, in the very last bookshelf, right underneath the fiction and nonfiction genres.

Someone cleared their throat, and their scent overtook your senses. You knew that smell. Lifting your head, met with his concerned gaze as you struggled to understand how he got here so fast. Or has it been a wild and you were frozen again? Not a word out for now, sitting on his knees beside you, his Adam’s apple bopping with his swallow. “You’re crying,” he said forwardly, though there was a feeble attempt to cover it up to make it less blunt. “What happened?” Ari leaned down slightly to get a better look, and you wanted to scurry away. Why does he care?

His features softened as yours neutralized, trying to have better control over your responses to the deafening acceptance inside of you. “You don’t have to do this. I can pretend we never interacted, you don’t know me. Don’t do this because you feel like you have to, okay? It’s fine.” And for a reason you knew not of, your voice cracked on the last word. Your own body was betraying you, a cry for help from its own doings, and you were wedged in confusion.

The gorgeous brunet tilted his head, “I’m not doing this because I feel like I have to,” he started. “I don’t help people because I pity them.” He looked at you in your eyes, his index finger under your chin to keep your gaze on him. “Just don’t want you to cry, I guess.” Then, he leaned back to the shelf behind him as well with his tone matter-of-factly, sitting next to you as if it was every other day. He let the quiet keep you steady before interrupting it—like he always did—“Besides, I wouldn’t ignore the one person I’ve tried to talk to for days.” He kept his eyes on you, patiently waiting for something of a response. Wanting to know if he said something wrong, or if all this is too invasive. “Sorry,” and it came out muttered, in the exact same way you’ve been saying it.

You parted your lips to say something, anything, yet nothing came out and you snapped your mouth closed. Your arms firmly against your legs—tighter—keeping them as close as possible with your chin over them. The thoughts swarmed, but it was no use—because at the end of it, you said nothing while he silently said everything. He got up then, accepting it, “but if you don’t want me here, I’ll go.” And he seemed determined to take your quietness as an answer; an implication that you wanted to be left alone.

He was two steps away, barely even that, before you squeaked out a no. That seemed to be all it took before he turned around and sat next to you once more, only a more desperate look colored his face as his hands trembled—resisting the ache to touch you. “Please, don’t ignore me,” his tone being more reserved than it was, knowing he was treading delicate waters. “I’m just trying to help, and I- I don’t know how to do that.” He’s not entirely sure why he stayed if he knew, deep down, all he’ll receive is the same old silence in return. Let alone why he was so wanting of a reply from you when he’s never cared who talked to him or who didn’t—before, that is.

Your eyes avoided his, curling up to your own corner. A sigh left his lips as he leaned back once more against the bookshelf. “You don’t have to talk,” he whispered, “but know I’ll listen.” And for some reason, you believed it. You believed him while having no faith in yourself or your morality anymore. The quiet you two have recognized with the other seemed to drag on hopelessly, and he grew restless. “How do you not talk? Like—genuinely. Not even in a teasing way, I promise,” he held his hands up almost placatingly, “I just… for some fucking reason, really want to hear you talk. To help, if that’s so hard to believe.”

“It’s not so bad… it’s nice,” you mumbled in response—which, admittedly, did take a few seconds of nothingness—and he almost had a double take to make sure his ears weren’t misleading and that your lips did in fact move.

“Oh, holy shit!” he said too loudly, making your brows raise and your head to cock to the side. He shook his head with a small shrug, like he’s accomplished something worthy of celebrating with the way he started to chuckle and run a hand through his hair. A roll of your eyes as you suddenly felt amusement course through you. Only this time, the numbness didn’t follow. And so, you jumped at the chance—internally—and grasped his hand as if to make sure it was all real. That this wasn’t some sick joke, a level further of your brain’s torment. It wasn’t.

It was game day. Ari had been practicing and barking orders all day, and now that it had finally reached 7 P.M., the bleachers were filled with some players stretching and others just having left the locker room. It had been three weeks since the library incident, and all you could think of was how he had gotten you to this point. It was still rocky, of course—he talked and you listened. That was how it started, before just about a week ago, you found yourself able to talk back. Actually conversing with him, and the best part being your social battery didn’t run out. He didn’t know you struggled, but it should’ve been obvious, right?

Unless people just assumed you were quiet by nature. And sure, you were, but it all originates from somewhere. Even the factors that simply make people… people. You never went to games, whether they were football, basketball, whatever it was. It just seemed like a waste like everything else is. Yet, there was this drastic pull you found within, the one that dragged you to Ari at every turn and it had only been three weeks, and it scared you. It scared you because you never felt anything like it—this need to actually keep trying after merely existing for so long. From how you didn’t even notice you had started drawing again until you finished your sketch, or the fact that you looked forward to his teasing messages during class or a late evening.

Or when you’d send him a random emoji at 3 A.M. with no expectation of a response, only for Ari to send another emoji back with an image. The first selfie was still imprinted in your brain, because it was the day it started the thing between just the two of you. It was a horrible day, for no reason, either. You hadn’t talked to him, ignoring everyone in your way not that people talked to you including Ari. He had been able to tell from the mere way you held yourself—how you tugged your sweater’s sleeves that he had noticed to be your favorite one, the way your hair was pulled up with no attempt to make it look tame, the dark circles that were disappearing over the first week. He kept his distance, but you still felt bad because someone was actually trying, and you didn’t want to disappoint him. You didn’t want him to feel what you feel on the daily with no explanation why.

And so, you sent a frowning emoji with a question mark, after sobbing your eyes out because it had been far too long since you cried. It was simple, quick, impulsive. Just as your phone was going to shut off, he sent back the sighing emoji, followed by a selfie. It was still so vivid in your mind. His hair was tousled with strands over his forehead, his chest bare but the frame cropping just above his pecs. Ari was lying back on his bed, his head resting on the pillow under him, his eyes an icy blue—which contrasted to his deep, crystal ones during the day—however still held the same comfort you now found yourself always seeking. It was as if a wave of tranquility washed over you, his pink lips curled in a gentle smile, even if the tiredness was written all over his face. That thick beard gruff as ever, but somehow, it added to the naturality of it all.

You didn’t send one back that night, only hearting it and shutting your phone off… and somehow, the photo stuck with you. He didn’t question why, never pried too far, you communicating with him was what he considered a goal achieved—so he couldn’t push you away with any minor incident. If he pushed too hard, if he stuck too close; all things he was cautious of even if you didn’t notice. You wish you did, because then, you’d be able to rid him of that ridiculous habit and tell him he didn’t need to. Even if the two of you knew anything would tick you and push you over the edge to silence. So, whether this was a momentary distraction, or the impossibility of actually healing, you let it happen, because for the first time in what’s felt like your entire life, it felt tangible.

The brunet had given you his varsity jacket just yesterday, after you had finally sent him back your own photo. He claimed it was a gift, only now, you finally understood it was for something as small as sending a picture. A selfie, of you, clad in a hoodie and holding up your middle finger—half of your face out of frame. It was dark, the moonlight and the lamp the only luminosity in the room. The colors blue and white, with a black star right underneath LEVINSON on the back. And so, here you were, watching him as he headed out to the field, somehow finding yourself last row—but he still caught your eye. Your brows raised with a playful smirk, giving him a shrug as he reciprocated the action with a brief chuckle that sent a warmth through you from here. Hollowness that previously consumed you whole, had soothed just a bit.

Instead of being met with the fear that usually accompanied that realization, you were met with a quiet. An almost peaceful silence. Not that the field was silent by any means, it was the tuning out of it all that made it more tunneled. Like it was just the two of you. Which may be completely ridiculous, though the effect didn’t falter—if anything, it got stronger. Your lips twitched upwards, your head lowered to place your vision on your lap instead, fiddling with the sleeves of the jacket. The game went on, and yells erupted, cheers over the crowds, while you paid less attention. The same old ache that was just soothed, had now returned—somehow stronger. It was another reminder that all good can come crashing down, sometimes not even needing a blow to make it so.

With a blink of an eye, the bleachers were now empty, going to the nearest house or dorm to celebrate the win while the opposing school lost. You had been stuck in your own head again, which was nothing new, you were just doing well at maintaining that control over it streak. Oh well. Swallowing a thick lump that dried your throat up, walking down the stairs to get to the sidewalk, not even noticing the figure that seemed to follow you without meaning to. Like it was just a calling for him to do so. “Hey…” he whispered, the concern more apparent. He was still sweaty, and still so unbelievably handsome for someone who had just ran for… you didn’t even focus. His chest was heaving, a bottle of water in his hand as he caressed your wrist in his other. His head titled, causing a strand to fall over his forehead.

And oh, those eyes of his—the ones you always found yourself thinking about without the intention to—staring right back at you with an almost desperate sparkle. The moonlight was generous tonight, the full moon making it all seem brighter than it should be, while the rest of the dark sky, unaccompanied by stars tonight, swarmed you like usual. Never the light, always the darkness. “Sorry, I… hi,” you breathed out, shoulders still up instead of the drop like he had noticed ever since the library. “Nice game. Congratulations.” You really didn’t know what to say right now. All you craved was your bed, or something to actually help you rest instead of sleep. Like a grave.

“Angel,” he pleaded, looking over his shoulder for a quick second before pulling you closer. His touch was gentle, so very careful to not alarm you in any way as he tried to even his breathing. “Don’t do this. Please,” his hand didn’t drop your wrist, instead, his thumb subconsciously made small circles on your inner wrist as your eyes darted to it, hoping, praying, he wouldn’t slide his hand up further and see what you’ve tried to hard to hide. “Talk.”

Your teeth sank to your lower lip, worrying the skin as you tugged on it before releasing it, following it with an exhale that spoke volumes without any words. “You should go a- and shower,” you said so lowly, fearful of raising your voice any higher and you’d break. You were doing so good. And that’s what hurt the most. He dropped your wrist, and for a second there—one hopeless second—you thought he’d let go and give in. It’s what you wanted, and yet, it filled you with a strange feeling you chose not to explore further; not that you had the chance to. Just after that, he dropped his bottle, too, and wrapped his arms around you as if you were a lifeline for him.

It was a hug. Something that should be normal, but you had been lacking any physical contact with someone for so long now. You trembled in his big arms with no intention of pulling away. If anything, you hid further in his chest as your breathing went erratic with suppressed tears that explained why your throat tightened. His arms tightened, and his lips parted. You couldn’t see him, nevertheless, you felt him shut his eyes and rest his head down near your ear—letting his breathing pattern ground you along with his gentle rubs on your back. You finally got ahold of yourself, arms around his torso—forcing yourself deeper into him, as if you could. And it was so freeing, like you were being seen for the first time.

An embrace, you’ve had those before—as a kid, maybe even a preteen. You lacked them as you grew older, and their meaning had never gone over surface level greetings or goodbyes. The breathing pattern slowly made its way into your own, matching inhales and exhales, almost like a secret form of poetry. Ari was sweaty, and you were on the precipice of a breakdown, and it still made sense. To be right here, right now, his assuring and tender touch as if you’d break. Not for you being small in his eyes or someone to be pitied—he didn’t pity people—but because he found you delicate. Someone with a heart of glass that had shattered into shards many times before, and that was the reason he couldn’t stand breaking another shard into an even smaller piece. God knows he’s been through his fair share of issues, and he’s gotten help, but you… oh, sweet angel.

It was so assuring. The delusion of peace was thrown instantly, confirming that that wasn’t calm, this was. And as ridiculous as it sounds, you were never so sure of one thing—that you’ve never felt this before. No words had to be spoken, an understanding passing between you two as the stars appeared, like the darkness you claimed to swarm you now flickering with a light underneath. Him.

Not one of you let go for a while, his large hands treating you with care as your own shook on his back, holding back a tsunami of words that would never dare leave your lips. But still, he waited. And held you. And you held him, because he needed this, too. The mountain on your shoulder lifted slightly, lightening to a boulder he wanted to help carry, although he knew you wouldn’t allow it. Ari wanted to talk about it, he always did, even if you didn’t. And it frustrated him that you would just move past it like it was a daily occurrence, because he knew that’s what it was—another thing in your day, even when it shouldn’t be. Nevertheless, he was right here, letting himself breathe again just like you were letting your walls shake down to the ground.

A mumbled thank you after what seemed like hours, looking up at him for the sun that always glistened in his eyes, just to be met with a reflection of the moon. Just like your own. He shook his head in reply, his arms hesitantly letting go of you—like he was scared you’d crash down with your brick walls. You didn’t. Still standing on your two feet, a breath passing by the two of you before your hands let go of him now, lifeline just out of reach. He gave you that look, the very one that always asked if you were okay; and you gave him your own, the very one that always answered with a yes. But his question never faltered, and yours was never truthful. Another thing you two had, though neither of you could figure out if it was a good addition or not.

“You have a party to get to. I hear you’re the star player, no?” a small smile graced your lips, and his breath caught in his throat. His pupils went wide, caught in a trance as he stumbled over his words. “Relax. I wasn’t even paying attention, I won’t let you take all the credit,” you shrugged and patted his shoulder, but that felt awkward. You quickly withdrew your hand back to yourself with an apologetic shrug he quickly returned as an it’s okay. Same old same old, even if it has only been three weeks.

Christmas break was near, and instead of Ari going to Curtis’s party like every year, he was going to fly back home to Boston for his family, because his parents apparently wanted him back for family time. Of course, that was a bunch of shit—they just wanted to give him an earful of public appearances and his future with a speech of theirs he’s memorized to the pitch. And so, it being the 17th, he had begged you to let him take you somewhere. Just as friends of course, but the offer was still too superficial. Until he had said he’d give you his Netflix password after you rediscovered it to pass some time.

What? Yours was ending soon and you were just a college student who had too little energy to even get a simple job. And so, you were sat on one of the children’s swings, snow under your boots as you turned your head. It was nice… like your own little bubble. The moon was high as usual, the stars glittering over the night sky for more of a feel, your camera in hand. You had found it the other day, and sure, you cried over it. The memories you found within as well as the flood of them in your mind you hadn’t realized you even stored. You brought the heavy, but tiny, item with you out of pure impulse, taking a couple photos here and there—never pausing to see if it was a good shot, just simply doing what felt.

“This is what you do for fun?” slight amusement tinged your voice, the glint in your eyes as he saw the way your camera turned to him. His cheeks were extra rosy, his nose as well, puffing out breaths as his gloves covered his usually tender hands with a beanie over his head—three layers of tops being a shirt, hoodie, and a big puffer jacket that matched your own coincidentally. His eyes lingered on your plump lips for a moment too long, a snowflake right on your nose as he huffed out a chuckle and looked away.

He shrugged in response. “You underestimate it all,” he retorted with lightheartedness, as if this moment just slipped casually and easily. The colors on your face were more vibrant than monochrome, whether it was your progress or the cold, he didn’t really mind. It was all falling into place better than he wanted, and he didn’t dare question the universe’s advances. As long as you were okay, it would be fine. “C’mon, give me that,” he tried reaching over to grab the camera after you snapped a shot of his side profile. The surrounding trees now bare of any leaves, white snow covering the ground, leaving prints of your boots whenever you walked.

You dodged just at the right moment, making him almost slip. He shot you a look, his brows raised with a playful danger of a gleam in his dark eyes. How did he look good right now? You quickly stood up and tried to run, before feeling a much stronger grip on your arm—yanking you towards him. A gasp fell from your lips with a squeak, squirming in his arms. “Let me go, I swear I’ll show you later—I will—!” A high-pitched laugh broke out when his hands slid underneath the hoodie you wore, reaching all your sensitive spots as he tickled. “Ari—“ you forced out somehow with gasps of air. He let go after a bit, your body trembling with a heaving chest. Your eyes were brighter somehow, with an ache to your cheeks at how strong you laughed just now. A melody he never got enough of.

With a blink, he had pulled you down to the snow-covered ground. The park was empty, quiet. Except for the two of you, of course. “Angel, make a snow angel,” he grumbled almost poutingly, nudging your shoulder with his as he stared up at the sky like you were. You nearly rolled your eyes at the stupid pun, but held back. Before it all clicked—you were feeling. You were letting yourself feel it all, letting yourself hold on to the same hope that disappointed you in the past… which made it all too real and fake simultaneously. And a wave of panic filled your stomach, the same sensation that pushed you to puke out of horror. Because this couldn’t be fake. This couldn’t be temporary. Ari couldn’t be temporary.

“It’ll be fun,” he said in a sing-song voice, as if that out of all things would convince you. “You didn’t like snow angels as a kid?” And that question was what caught you off guard, snapping you out of your haze—but the haze’s effect stuck. Proving your thoughts had more of an impact than anything physically could.

Swallowing thickly with a cloud of a breath from your lips appearing, “I- I did,” was what came out. Him calling you angel actually hurt, because it brought those memories with it. Never fitting in, never belonging, and yet being praised and hated all at once. That’s confusing, for a child, and even more so as a grown adult. Because back then, you’re cooed and hushed that it’ll all make sense in the future. That if it’s not now or soon, it’s later. What a lie, still failing you all these years later. His head tilted up to see you more quiet than what you were. His clothed hand reached for your cold cheek, nudging your eyes to his by moving your head as well.

No words.

Just his hypnotizing eyes as yours captured his in a trance he couldn’t snap himself out of this time.

Which makes all this more confusing. One second, you’re right there with him, trying not to block reality out to save yourself, and the other—it’s spring. And you find yourself standing in the woods. You haven’t been here before, far away from campus and the city, staring at greenery and flowers as the trees stood tall with the sunset peeking through them. A gentle softness reached your eyes as you touched a bark of a tree, actually feeling the texture before pulling away, glancing back at Ari as he stood there, a small smile on those pink lips, lost in his own thoughts. You don’t know why, but he’s been getting that look a lot lately. However, you never asked, because he’d somehow find a way to ask you about things you didn’t want to answer.

“How’d you find this place?” you asked instead, looking up and around, the trees’ leaves tangled together all around. Your shoes over the grass, trying your best not to smush too many flowers and greenery as you eventually stilled and stood on a patch of soil. Your eyes finally met his, and he finally let out a sound. A laugh. A smooth, delicate rumble that had formed into a laugh because of how adorable he found your tactics. You shot a glare, nothing but annoyance filling it instead of actual dislike, that quickly dissipated when his laugh got louder. It elicited a suppressed smile from you, trying to keep the facade up. The days were long, the nights were painful, the hollowness that swallowed your emotions still there and ever-present… but he made it better. Somehow.

“Sorry, I-“ his hands went up to his chest as his head tilted back, the unique noise of genuine amusement reaching your ears and causing a flutter to your heart. Oh? Instead of questioning your reaction, you once again put it aside, and leaped. Actually. You jumped with your arms around his neck, legs hooking to his hips in fear of crushing any more plants. That seemed to intensify his mirth, but still had his arms around you. Again. It was a feeling you’d never get used to… the sense of something so genuine even in the slightest and simplest of touches. “Sorry,” he shook his head, the wide grin on his face not faltering. “Sorry.” He finally sighed, his chuckles dying down, but not that smile. And his dimples were seen, even under his beard. The sight you’d never not cherish. “I was once like you… only more desperate for connection. Keen, I guess. And I wandered for maybe a day, skipped practice, and voila.”

You smacked his shoulder but made no move to squirm out of his grasp. He started walking, keeping you off the forest ground as the birds chirped and flew around excitedly. “They know you…” you pieced together, eyes turning big with an expression of tenderness. Realness. Your guards were down, the gate along with it, and Ari found himself at the entrance. “And what’s that supposed to mean? You ass.”

He kept walking until he found a valley between the small hills—still hidden under the trees, setting you on the picnic blanket. It was red and oddly soft, a book with the cover facing down with a basket. “Picnic,” he said simply, as if that much wasn’t obvious. You swallowed with a nod, your appetite lessening at the thought of eating right now. Not when you had just snapped out of what felt like a nap, and yet you were wide awake through all of it. It just felt so quick. A snap. And that’s how you knew it was getting bad again. You covered it quickly, because now, Ari wasn’t afraid to ask anymore. He’d push, not too hard—still finding you as fragile as ever—but he’d still try. In his eyes and heart, knowing the truth of it being he honestly cared. While you, on the other hand, struggled to keep fighting your own brain. An endless loop with no way out, not even people.

“M’not hungry,” you sighed and gave him a shrug, “but, I’ll have a bite because you tried so hard.” And you did, grabbing one it his sandwiches and trying to converse with him as the sun eventually lowered into an evening, a gentle breeze over the two before you realized how late it’s gotten. But you didn’t mind, because he got you far enough from a knife, from a pen and paper, from anything else that’s tangible; he didn’t even know it. “How’s the sister?”

“She’s good, Ma still thinks she’s messing her future up. But that’s Ma, so,” he shrugged and leaned back on his elbows, eyes trained on you like they always did when you walked in a room, or simply just… existed. “She also plans on publishing her first novel, so that should be something. Under a fake name or something, ‘til she’s legal so our parents don’t get a fucking heart attack in disbelief and rage.”

“Mm…” you hummed, unconsciously letting your eyes set on his lips. What the fuck? You scolded yourself internally and looked away, clearing your throat and hoping to God he didn’t just see or notice that. It couldn’t be. You had no emotions, let alone romantic ones… so why did you—

“We should get back before it’s too late,” he interrupted your string of thoughts gently, his voice that calming rasp he usually let through in a moment of tranquility. And that always consisted in your presence.

You quirked a brow, trying to keep it all up so you didn’t break at the thought of being in the dorm room you thought about ending it all in. Being that close to any painkiller, any blade… oof, at the very least. “When has Ari Levinson ever cared about time?” you cocked your head to the side, a twitch of your lips in a flicker of a smile before you pursed your lips to keep it concealed. His lips gaped in a dramatic gasp with a roll of his eyes.

But fuck, he didn’t mean a bit of it. Not from the way his pretty blues darted from your pursed lips as well—it being his turn like it has been ever since the winter night at the park. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman, angel.” But he knew that deep down, all he wanted was to keep you closer for a moment longer, even if it was a second. He swallowed down something strange in his throat as he sucked in a sharp breath, sitting straighter to pack up all his stuff as you sat there like an angel, too good for this traitorous world. Your hand brushed his—it was barely a touch, really—but it sent him ablaze. With a low curse, his big, calloused hands cupped your cheeks and kissed you.

Kissed you.

And the world stopped—or well, you didn’t have one to begin with… but something did stop. Your eyes fluttered shut, a soft gasp leaving you in delayed shock, while he sucked that sound in as a breath for himself. Those rough hands of his that have held and thrown footballs, grasped your face in his hands, and treated you with utter care like you were a diamond. No, scratch that, the most delicate of crystals that shined far too brightly for everything it saw—all of which being unworthy. His thumbs stroked your cheekbones, his lips still pressed on yours in a tender manner, until he parted his lips and deepened it. And it was like your consciousness fell back into your body, leaning into his soft kiss as your hands reached up to cover his.

It felt good. It felt too good to be true. It was fucking magical, and it didn’t scare you. This intense, world-shattering emotion didn’t push you away, and instead, brought you closer. Leaning into his touch when you two parted for breaths, like the breeze stopped for you two to have a moment. Like the universe itself gave you permission to have this one thing… to have him.

That was that… for another week, then two, then three… before it became a month. And two. And three. Of him patching up your scars when you tried pushing him away physically, and when you finally burst into tears in his arms. When that dam finally broke, when all the heartache and hollowness and desperation built up to a bridge you couldn’t keep together any longer. And he was there. You apologized—even wrote him a letter once in fear of having to actually talk about it, and he read it. Once, twice, thrice, before crushing you against him and murmuring sweet words until you rested on him. Actually rested. He was a breath of fresh air, while you consistently drowned him—or that’s what you felt like you did. Even if everything you’ve tried didn’t work—the isolation, the silence, the quick words of apologies. He was here, and he was staying.

So why did it all hurt so badly still? Why were the nights long and the days restless, why couldn’t you find eternal peace in life, why did it always have to be empty even if you’ve been doing so well? There was no answer, because not only did you not ask, you just gave up. Earlier today, he had kissed you goodbye before going to his place to pack his things for summer break. You had already finished up thanks to him, and he pleaded for you to come with him, but you refused politely. You saw yourself as clingy lately, and he needed space. That’s how it worked in your head. And here you were, phone shut off, tears streaming down your face with no sobs. Just an endless reminder that you would never be fixed; that this void of absolute nothingness would always win.

It will always drain your energy, your beliefs, until you crippled and gave in. A few drops made it to the lined paper, finally dropping the pen on the desk as you folded the paper shakily. Your hands fisted to try to make it stop. It didn’t work. Your hands trembling as you placed it on your nightstand, refusing to think twice before you shut your lamp. And a wave of relief, utter acceptance in its truest form, washed over you as comfort. Because in this moment—in every moment, your melancholy was the only honesty you could trust in your life. If you could even call your existence that; life.

Ari had an extra key to your dorm room. You had given it to him because you got tired of always opening the door for him throughout your daily activities. You just regretted it a bit more when he’d walk in and you’d be rotting in bed, like you had been since the night before. Your room was dark, which was nothing new, but not even your lamp was on… odd. He exhaled, flicking the light switch on as he turned to your bed.

His heart dropped and a stabbing sensation pierced his heart quicker than he could process the sight. He was by your side, hands fumbling for a heartbeat in your wrist, your neck, your chest. He slid the paper into his pocket for a reason—a possibility he didn’t want to acknowledge, before slipping you into his arms like all the times before, only this time it was out to his car. And he drove like a madman, trying to reach the nearest hospital in under a minute. And somehow, it only took four minutes instead of twenty—but the streets were empty and his desperation was fierce.

All throughout it, mumbling assurances as he stroked your hand, like you could feel it. Because although it failed you, hope couldn’t crush him more than this sight did. He was sure nothing could. Everything was a blur. From the rush of his feet to the adrenaline that lasted too short before he found himself asleep at your bedside. But he blinked sleep away immediately, only getting two hours before his anxiety rushed. His phone buzzing, the sterile white room too bright, the hope that was lessening while the desperation grew.

“Ari…?”

He could’ve cried. He did cry. A strangled sob left his lips, burying his face in your neck as he clutched you desperately. “Don’t ever fucking do that again. Jesus, angel—please, I- fuck, what would I do if- no…” he shook his head to brush that thought off, kissing your knuckles and cheeks as he regulated his breathing. Relief finally flooding his system as he brought your hand up, kissing over your pulse in your wrist.

Tears welled up in your own eyes, your throat tightening as you struggled to find your voice. “I’m sorry…” you whispered, choking up on your words. Not sure if you meant it for yourself or for him, the aching hollowness finally filled with an emotion: need. For so many things you couldn’t keep up with, but he was at the top of that list. Ari Levinson was always on top of the list, for several reasons, and this time—it was for him saving you. Multiple times, even this one—when it all seemed unbearable. And it did feel that way for a while, but it seemed worth it. The therapy, the communication.

Because now, you were staring at a reflection of you and Ari, in your arms, in the same hospital that held you all those years ago. Because you survived, and the glittering ring on your finger proved you lived a life. Thanks to him, thanks to yourself. Thanks to all those apologies you finally took for yourself, enduring them in blessings instead of pain. And it was like a switch had been flicked, and you saw light.

“Just like you, sunshine…” he whispered, kissing your shoulder as he admired his world; since now, there were two of you instead of just one. And he couldn’t be more proud, of not only the lengths you fought through, but to bring this sweet angel to this earth to add to his world. “I love you.” And once more, kissed your lips like his life depended on it, because he didn’t know what he would’ve done if you weren’t it. It being his life. His own anchor.

──── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 . . . !

Hotlines

- US :: 988 & 1-800-985-5990

- Australia :: 13 11 14 & 1300 659 467

- UK :: 08457909090

- France :: 0145394000

- Italy :: 800860022

- Sweden :: 46317112400

These are just some, more can be found by various medias and google. PLEASE ASK FOR HELP IF NEEDED. I love you and I want you here, and if not for me, please just give life a try. I believe in you, and it can get better. I love you, I see you, I hear you. Most of all, I believe in you.

#₊⊹⁀➴ 𝐌𝐑𝐋𝐗𝐘𝐒 ᥫ᭡#angst #fluff #mental health #ari levinson #relateable #tw #chris evans x reader #chris evans #cevans #i love you #x you #x reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #female reader #happy ending

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mrlxys · 1 year ago

Text

•°. *࿐ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃

➣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! charles leclerc x fem!reader

➣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! angst, swearing, arguments, grief

➣ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ! yes this is a repost ‘cause my dumbass deleted it the first time. kms. anyways, so proud of charles 🫶🏼 and correct my google translate thanks <3 and yes i changed the ending ‘cause i love a good sad story ! we love charles leclerc in this household 💌

━━ SUMMARY :: you loved him, but it was too late.

➺ ❛ ⌗ friends to strangers & impossible love ❜

❪ masterlist ❫ ⋆. ⟢ ˚

You and Charles.

It wasn’t something odd. It was something you grew accustomed to overtime.

“Where’s Charles?”

“With me,”

“Thought so,”

You two were friends. While your own teased you for it, you denied it. A look shared, silently saying as if knowingly friends? with their eyes whenever he brought you flowers when you couldn’t make it to a race. Friends whose faces lightened up at the mere name of one another. Friends who beamed at each other simply because of their presence.

Friends.

Friends who spent more time together than breathing. Friends who cuddled after not seeing each other for what felt like an eternity, but in reality were only a few days. Friends who found comfort in one another like no one else.

Friends.

Friends who held each other when the other was crying out, reaching for some sort of comfort and all that was found was peace. Friends who sought out that same feeling miles away, yet couldn’t. Friends who made the other crack and break in ways others could never even get close to, by just a glance.

Friends.

Friends who looked forward to seeing the other at and for the simplest of things. Friends who run up to each other on the airport after being separated as if you two were forced apart. How Charles would ignore Leo, his mother, and just run up to you and hold you close like you’d turn into dust if he weakened his grasp on you.

Friends?

Friends who hold eye contact longer than should be expected. Friends with enough thick tension to cut through with a knife, only by gazing into each other’s irises while the world faded into nothing but air and darkness.

Friends?

Friends who laughed as you covered him in flour in a horrible attempt of trying to pass time with baking as you waited for the food to arrive, suddenly finding yourself pinned onto the kitchen counter with his body too close to yours. Your eyes never leaving his as the laughter died down, tension replacing it in a snap as his eyes lingered on your lips for a second too long, before meeting your hazy stare again. His hands holding your wrists beside your head gently, so that if you wanted to break free, you could—but you didn’t want to. And before things could escalate, the doorbell ringing snapped you two out of the faintest of moments.

Friends?

Friends who find comfort in another as you hold onto each other. How he gently pulls you to him once you’re shutting yourself down, closing off as he refused over and over again, keeping you to him as you melted into him, letting yourself feel everything you’ve numbed out as he hushed you, assuring you that you were safe and comfortable. Finding nothing but solace in it; peace. He felt like home—he was home.

No?

Doubt crept up, with your heart hammering as memories flooded your head. How he searched for you in everywhere he went, in everything he heard or saw. Your presence, your eyes, your scent—anything to ground and alert him that you were near. When his eyes would find yours in the sea of interviewers in a press conference, a silent indication of reassurance and encouragement.

No.

More of a statement than a question, slowly grasping the idea with every push of your heart. How his presence alone lifted your spirits like no one else could. How he would pay attention to every little thing you did, such as play with your fingers whenever your anxiety rose or you got excited. How your smile lines were evident with every laugh and smile. How your eyes brightened once you talked passionately about something—about him. He noticed; and that only made him feel like the luckiest man on earth.

Not friends.

How he longed to hold you, to kiss you, to make you his in all the right ways if you let him. How he waited and stayed, even when you pushed the world away and were losing yourself in your head, while he held onto you and grounded you, keeping you with him. How he posted blurry photos of you on his story and instagram just to keep your privacy to yourself—guarding your privacy and comfort, leaving the public away from your life; although that didn’t stop any guesses and chatter. It didn’t stop people from running their mouths, or trying to find out who it was making the formula one driver go insane without you noticing.

“I love you,”

His words echoed in your head, the realization suddenly clicking as a low, faint gasp left your lips. You’ve said that to each other before, but it’s been a while, and for some reason it was different. Something felt different. You thought he meant it platonically, simply shrugging it off with a smile, but no—romantically. It dawned upon you, the three words said to you weeks ago now only making sense, the trailing off of his words comprehending all of a sudden. He loves you.

I love him.

The reality of it all hit, everything falling into place as your heart thrummed in your chest and into your ears, your eyed widening slightly as you racked your brain for a possible explanation, yet were unsuccessful. All you felt was adrenaline, and you knew you had to leave that same second. You didn’t care about anything as you grabbed your keys and rushed to the car.

Your heart hammering as everything seemed to go on pause, the realization and comprehension overpowering every doubt that filled your head—which usually would have won, but not today. Not now. You were too far gone into the feeling of purity and love, you couldn’t back down, and you didn’t. You drove all the way to his house, ignoring the fact that you two how you were meant to meet a few hours later for the traditional dinner you had when he was in town. You didn’t care that he said he had a surprise tonight, that thought was pushed back into your head. You didn’t care that you wore your baggy sweatpants and oversized hoodie with your hair tucked into the hood.

None of that mattered, because the only thing—person that did, was him. How everything just made sense in that moment. You had now only realized, but everything clicked. You had felt this unfamiliar feeling for a while, you could just never place your finger on what it was. Friendliness, is what you always said—silently sharing that thought with one another in simply a glance, yet he found out the truth before you ever could even think of you two romantically.

Your overthinking thoughts were the last thing you cared about, especially when you pulled into his driveway and frantically knocked on the door, fingers fiddling with one another as you stood there, impatient as ever, waiting to spit the words out like a romcom would.

Right on cue, the door opened, and as soon as it did, your lips parted, ready to confess—

“Charlie, chi è quello?” A sweet, smooth, silky voice heard from inside the house. [ Who is that? ]

Charlie.

Something only you ever called him—the only person he let call him that. It was a nickname that led to many, many others and lots of jokes that came along with it. It felt as though your heart was ripped out of your chest and stomped on in front of you.

A smile crept onto his face as he took a step aside, wordlessly motioning that you could walk in, and so you hesitantly did. Deep, quiet breaths as you walked into the house you had memories of, in every aspect of it you held a special memento. A gorgeous—no, breathtaking redhead came into view. Her maxi black dress that held onto her figure and tied around her neck, the dress backless as her hair was in a half up half down, parted by the pearl claw clip you had. The same one you kept tucked away in his drawer whenever you needed it. Black stilettos and silver jewelry to accessorize, and she held a welcoming, kind smile.

“Remember the surprise I had?” He snaked his arm around the girl’s waist, keeping her close like he usually did with you when you two were walking on the sidewalk, silly disgusies on to keep paparazzi and his fans off your ass, just like you two had briefly talked about. He respected your wishes, and encouraged it. He understood it better than anyone, and it was comforting knowing someone had your back. “This is Isabella.”

Her green eyes lit up, darting from you to Charles every few seconds. It was sad, how much pain you held in that moment while she was nothing but welcoming. It was as if life was biting you in the ass for falling for him—for realizing too late, or ever realizing it at all. For holding it, keeping it stored away when it should’ve made sense the minute he said those words.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Her Italian accent slipping. She tilted her head, her hands intertwined together as if to hold her excitement and nervousness. You did so too, but out of anxiety. The fear factor suddenly overruling the confidence you held not too long ago, fiddling as you racked your brain, trying to come up with an excuse you never concluded with. To hell with that, you just needed to get out of there.

You were lightheaded, your stomach tightening as your heart dropped and thumped in your ears, a faint ringing sound in them as well as you attempted to stand your ground and keep your composure. “I-yeah, I can’t-“ You swallowed, “Can’t make it tonight.”

His brows furrowed, his eyes finally meeting yours after gazing into Isabella’s—with the same look he used to look at you with. You wanted to throw up, and you didn’t know if this was a dramatic reaction, but it was your default. You were ready to breakdown until your headache formed and fell asleep, body limp before you woke up, scolding yourself for the tears you shed the night before, keeping yourself out of touch with everyone. But Charles wouldn’t listen.

Usually, he’d ground you, assure you he was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere. Try to lighten the mood with a few jokes and hushed whispers of sweet nothings into your ear, a few French as it always seemed to calm you down; even if you never understood all of his words. Nonetheless, it was comfort. He was home.

“What happened?” It was unusual, for you to just not show up to the dinner you looked forward to every time he was back, spending lots of time and effort as if it wasn’t the same place and time each and every time. Everything was cleared in his and your calendar, the time specifically for one another.

“Just-“ You took a step backwards, swallowing a lump that formed in your throat. Everything felt like it was closing in, stuffy and crowded. You needed to get out. “Sorry,” You turned around, storming out of the house and quickly to your car, feeling a hand grab your arm, forcing you to turn around. He met your eyes, his filled with concern while yours were filled with pain. Pain you shouldn’t get to feel, something you didn’t deserve of having—especially since you were never a thing. Never a couple. Friends.

“Please,” His eyes flickered from yours to his hand that slightly weakened, so that if you wanted to push him away and escape, you could, yet you were frozen. “I know you. I do, you know I do. What happened?”

You happened.

“What?”

He responded. Shit. You didn’t even know it slipped out, your overwhelming thoughts clouding your head while all you could feel and see was him. It got too hot all of a sudden, and you needed to get away, “Please, it’s fine. Nothing, nothing, just-“

“I’ll let you go if you really want me to,” His other hand went to cup your cheek while your eyes were avoiding his, forcing you directly into his. A wave of emotion washing over you, and your throat closed up as you desperately gasped for air, faint gasps as you stammered, “But please.”

“Don’t. Charles, don’t,” You shook your head, trying to turn your head away but he wouldn’t let you.

“You never call me that,” Now, he was even more confused. Pieces scattered on the board as the puzzle got more and more difficult, while he usually would just hold you. You didn’t have to talk, he would just know, and if he didn’t, he’d wait for you. He always did, but time ran out this time.

Everyone told him to move on, to give someone else a chance since you two were stuck on being friends—until he finally said the three words and you were oblivious. That’s when he knew it was time. He forever loved you, but he had to let you go if you truly didn’t want him. Little did he know you did. Crazy how so much chaos was created in only a few weeks.

“Please, mon chéri,” He called you the pet name, and you lost it.

“Fuck—fuck, Charles. Why, just why? Don’t, I can’t-“ You were at a loss for words, eyes glossy as he cupped your face with both of his hands, “I love you. I love you, and it hurts. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I realized too late and that I’m putting you in a position you shouldn’t even be in. I’m sorry, it isn’t right. Let me go, please-“

Everything tuned out once you said those words he was longing to hear ever since he laid eyes on you from the moment you two met. “You love me?”

“I shouldn’t, I know that. Isabella’s waiting inside, let me go, please,” You stammered, closing your eyes as his piercing stare got too much to handle, “Charlie, please.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his hands away, his lips parted as he stared at you in disbelief. You were quick on your feet, going into your car and took deep breaths. Everything was going haywire, and it was like the world was closing in on you, and you left—fast.

12 days.

Twelve days after that horrific event that replayed over and over again in your mind. Just a day ago, Charles won. He won the damn race, and you should’ve been there like you always were. Cheering him on and celebrating with him like every other time, no matter if he lost or won. You were meant to be there.

It was now 4:27 am, and you were watching the news, your hands shaking as you sat with your phone on the ground, messages from people bashing the silence with pings; biting your lip to keep your sobs down. At 3:42, Charles was presumed dead. Dead. So many thoughts swarmed your mind, and it was unbearable. With every second that passed, it was as if your heart shattered into more pieces, every bit holding its own toxin as you quivered, sat on the floor instead of the couch, holding onto his hoodie that you threw on.

Twelve days. Everyday was misery, keeping your distance from him was painful—but nothing compared to this. He died, he was gone. Tears trickling down your cheeks as you held back sobs, a hand clamped onto your mouth, body shaking in disbelief as so many emotions were clouding your thoughts. You could only imagine what his family were going through, but it caused you so much torment knowing you two weren’t on speaking terms. You felt like you were one to blame, for inflicting the distance in the beginning, and somehow, his death—which wasn’t true. But you couldn’t help it.

He wasn’t even on the track—on the road when some idiot crashed into him. The formula driver killed while doing what he loved, just not on the track; who would’ve thought? It was as if the world went silent, and you couldn’t bear it. Every passing minute, second, was like torture. Knowing you couldn’t change anything, it was actual torture. You eventually dropped your head, letting the sobs free as your world came crashing down. A part of you was ripped right out, and you couldn’t do anything to change it.

──── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 . . . !

#₊⊹⁀➴ 𝐌𝐑𝐋𝐗𝐘𝐒 ᥫ᭡#charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc angst #angst #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #heartbreak #cl16 one shot #carlos sainz #best friends #friends to lovers

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mrlxys · 1 year ago

Text

•°. *࿐ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒

➣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! chris evans x chubby!fem!reader

➣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! swearing, angst, insecurities, lil steamy in the end

➣ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ! its been a while i know <3

━━ SUMMARY :: chris is stubborn and won’t let those thoughts win

➺ ❛ ⌗ lovers ❜

❪ masterlist ❫ ⋆. ⟢ ˚

The weather was changing. Fall was coming and words could never explain how excited you were. Your eyes would sparkle and you would be jumping internally whenever someone mentioned it. You weren’t from Boston, so it was quite fun exploring places you haven’t been to with Chris before. He was at home, probably snuggled up on the couch with Dodger, watching a Disney movie. The thought made you smile before you glanced around and kept walking.

You and Chris? A complete secret. Private? Not even. You two wanted to keep it low and steady before you revealed it to the world, and the excuse you told him was something of the truth. He didn’t push and agreed right away, however he always felt somewhat glum he didn’t even let the world know he even had a girlfriend. There was no need to put a name, or even an actual announcement, just a subtle hint would have done it; but you said secret. So, he stuck to his promise.

You made sure to be quick and sneaky, and even if someone did see you in Boston, you made sure to say it was a quick visit if someone had asked. No one knew. Not even your best friend was aware of the fact that you were dating the Chris Evans. The man that had you gushing and squealing ever since your eyes landed on him for the first time in Fantastic Four. How the hell did you two meet? Long ass story.

The important thing is, is that you were together. You still can’t quite wrap your head around that you’re with Chris. There are days where your doubts and insecurities get the best of you, causing you to distant yourself from him. Were you too chubby? Could your stretch marks ruin you two? The questions and assumptions clouded your thoughts repeatedly and you were getting sick of it. You’d never show it, of course. Saying, “It’s nothing,” or putting on a smile and shaking your head, shrugging it off.

Your feelings are all bottled up. You truly, deeply, and honestly wanted to be those girls who don’t care about what others think; however, you just could not resist. You haven’t cried in a while, and don’t plan on doing so anytime soon, so whenever you feel like you’re going to let out something you shouldn’t, you bite your lip and look up, laughing and saying you just got the feeling to; whatever the fuck that means.

You sighed and snapped back to reality, giving the kind barista a smile as you paid for the drinks before grabbing them and walking back home. You chose a shortcut, trying to avoid potential paparazzi or something of the sorts. Chris was on speed dial incase anything happened, as usual. Thankfully, you got home safe and sound. As soon as you opened the door, Dodger was at the door, running around and jumping. You giggled and pet him, before moving your eyes to Chris’s figure.

His arms crossed with a sweet and comforting smile on his face. You happily returned the smile before giving him his coffee. He placed a kiss on your temple before walking you to the couch, his hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you close as he did. You unconsciously sucked in, something that you now do as it’s a habit. You two cuddled on the couch, coffees in hand as Dodger rested his chin on your lap. As you sipped your drink, you noticed Chris’ eye flickering from the tv to you every few minutes, yet you didn’t say anything and acted as if you didn’t notice.

But you did, you always did.

As the movie came to an end, your eyes barely stayed open. Chris saw that, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your hand, which just did it for you as you laid your head on his shoulder. His warmth sucked you into this deep sleep you so desperately craved for so long, but resisted with everything in you.

“You okay?” his tone low and cautious, turning his head to the side as he observed you carefully. You hummed, not giving him much to go on as you struggled keeping yourself up after getting 3 hours of sleep the entire week.

You nod, sitting upright as you sigh, “‘M okay,” yet he didn’t look convinced. He gave your hand a squeeze with his head tilted to the side, silently telling you to spit it out. Honesty, among other things, was something very important in your relationship—in any relationship, really. He said your name in a soft warning, making you shake your head, “Really, I am.”

“C’mon, be honest,” he exhaled, his hand moving to force your chin to turn to him. You couldn’t fight his grip as you gave into it and looked up into his eyes. You fought back a smile as you heard his accent slip through, earning a squint of speculation, “Something funny?”

“No, no,” you shrug, a chuckle escaping along with it, “The accent, though,” you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as the smile you held back finally slipped through. He raised his brows, a grin now on his face, too, nodding ever so slightly.

“Yeah? What about it?” He asked playfully, waiting for a response as you struggled to find your words while his hand moved lower and lower. From your chin, to your jaw, your collarbone, then finally rested on your hip as your eyes darted from his lips to his eyes.

The smile on your face never faltered, even as you shook your head teasingly. “Nothing,” A light and breathless laugh left your lips while your eyes stayed on his. It was visible he was holding back something, which made your stomach churn. “Now what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” He mimicked in your tone, making you angle your head to the side, a specific expression as if to tell him to spit it out. Your hand goes above his—the one on your hip. One squeeze was enough for him to get the memo, making him sigh as he dreaded asking something, “Are you okay? Really. Don’t lie with some stupid excuse and just tell me what it is,” He spoke softly and carefully, no anger in his tone while he awaited you to reply.

Your lips parted, unsure of what to say next. The only thing you could do was shake your head and let his hand drop from his hold on you as you stood up, calmly walking upstairs your shared room. He wasn’t that far behind. He had expected this, only because he knew you too well. You had never been the one of confrontation, it was always something you couldn’t bear.

“I’m fine, really,” You shook off, laying your head on his chest as to silently say the topic switched—to anything else, really. He sighed, annoyed but also hurt by the lying. The lying and silence where you wouldn’t admit your thoughts; even when he told you countless of times it was okay. That he heard you. You just wouldn’t budge. Something he loved and loathed about you, and was never sure if it was a good or bad thing. Then again, he lover you as a whole, so there almost was no argument when it came to deciding.

Only when it came to it in the moment. He let his arm wrap around you tightly, leaning back onto the couch as he spread slightly to get more comfortable. He knew, and could tell, this was going to be difficult, and so he couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted to push the topic further.

“Chris, I know that look,” Your head slightly tilted upwards, watching him through your lashes as he sighed apprehensively, and you internally groaned. He was stubborn, just as much as you are, but sometimes you wished he would drop it. Then again, that’s probably how you are, too.

He looked down at you, anticipating if he should continue with this. He cared too much to stop, but that was the same reason he wanted to carry it further. “Yeah, just-“

You quirked a brow, fixing your position as you sat up straight, hands on his chest as you waited for his continuation, until it never continued. He left it at that, then looked away, and silently got up. You were left confused and hesitant, debating if you should be the one to push the conversation now. So, without a second thought, you followed him to your bedroom, seeing him run a hand through his hair.

“Okay, yeah. Now you’re stressing me out,” You crossed your arms as you faced his back, head cocked to the side while your eyes moved along his body, seeing him tense and irritated—somehow…lovingly? That’s what caught you off guard, all while you scrambled on your feet, hand on his shoulder, forcing him around. “What is up with you?”

“What is up with you?” He asked almost as soon as the question left your lips, making you part your mouth slightly, eyes searching his for some sort of expression; emotion. “I’m like this ‘cause I’m worried about you,” His hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer as he let his head drop, his gaze moving up and down your body, then finally pulled them up to your face, “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s upsetting you.”

“Nothing’s-“

“No, don’t do that,” He shook his head adamantly, “Don’t shut me out. Not when you want to say it but can’t—act like you can’t. I’m here, you know that,” The words gentle and soft, his tone not giving you much of a reason to resist as you basically melted into him, your head dropping to his shoulders while his arms moved around you, now fully pressed against him. You shook your head, the guilt slowly starting to get to him more than you.

“It’s stupid,” A sigh left you, signaling you were close to burst, making him shake his head again, a hand reaching to the side of your face. He took a step back, forcing you to look up at him.

“It’s not stupid if you’re so insistent on not telling me,”

“That’s what makes it stupid. It’s dumb to the point where it shouldn’t be said,” You shrug it off, eyes falling to the floor for a second before back into his eyes, your tone quiet and nervous. You bit the inside of your cheek, before sighing, mouth parting as you sucked in a deep breath. “‘M insecure. It happens, it just shouldn’t be with you. I shouldn’t be with you.”

“No, no, don’t start that,” He knitted his brows together, stare carefully onto you, “It’s not true. You should know it’s not true,”

“I don’t fit the part. I don’t look it, either,” It slipped out so truthfully, head moved to the side as his hand remained on your cheek, your own irises examining every expression. Every breath, every flash of emotion in his own blue ones, how his forehead creased with lines, his brows pulled together, his lips apart, “It’s just insecurities. Everyone has them, y’know? But I think they’re right this one time.”

“No, they’re not,” he exhaled deeply, “That little voice will never be right,” It was almost relieving, finally hearing those thoughts that hurt your head every second of the day, he just couldn’t bear knowing it’s what you felt. “Ever.”

A hum was all you could muster up, even if that didn’t seem convincing, just as any other word would’ve been. It was like he knew, he knew that would be the answer, but that didn’t make it any less painful for him. “C’mon,” He whispered, desperation in his voice and features, “Don’t do that,” He kissed your cheek, “You know better,” And another, moving slightly down to your jaw, his hand on your waist still there, before he moved back up and pecked your lips.

“Unfortunately not,” Your hand moving to his chest, the other around his neck, “Maybe you don’t know me.”

That was what truly made him snap. He couldn’t let you talk down on yourself, to doubt yourself, to doubt him. Like this just wasn’t worth it, after all this time. “No?” He responded, ignoring that little comment and pang, eyes slightly darkened.

A shake of your head, and a turn of his head, “Get on the bed.” It was low, so faint you could’ve missed it if not for the absolute silence surrounding you two. You swallowed thickly, then turned your entire body before sitting down on the edge of the bed, your feet hovering the ground with eyes were stuck on him. “I don’t know you,” He stated more than asked, repeating your words as he got closer to you, eventually reaching the edge.

His grip on your chin, making him look down at you, while you struggled to hold your composure. He kneeled down, now you the one tilting your head downwards in order to keep your gaze on him. It was as if he hypnotized you, far too quickly even after your sudden outburst a few minutes ago. He had that effect on you, and he knew that. An evil smirk on his face, his inches away from yours as you breathed heavily.

“Chris,” You uttered, thighs clenching together as you breathed his name out, chest rising and falling, your head suddenly going into a blur of anything sensible as he filled your senses. His touch, smell, eyes, breath; it was intoxicating. Like a damn drug just always there, teasing and silently wanting. Wanting the reaction.

He shook his head, before settling down on his knees, hands going up and down your thighs, your breath hitching as a lump forms in your throat. His head dropping, his blues focusing on his slow movements. He shook his head once more, a small smile cracking through as his eyes when his hands move to the hem of your shirt.

“Off,” A demand, then his eyes found yours, “Now.” It was stern, no room for debate or arguments. A flash of unsureness all over your features, before his hand intertwined with your own, a gentle squeeze of comfort. In about a second, you pulled it off, “Everything.”

Oh good God.

You bit your lower lip in nervousness, slowly standing up as you unbuttoned your jeans, leaving you in your underwear and bra. You avoided his eyes at all times, turning and sighing, but he was determined. Chris stood back up, kissing your cheek, then forcefully, but gently, and pressed his lips onto your own. His were always soft, and it was exhilarating. This time, it was rough. Like there was a lesson needed to be taught, all while his hands moved up and down your sides, a gasp escaping you when he pulled you even closer to him.

He smiled, then moved kisses down to your jaw, neck, and eyes stuck to your chest. He groaned, hands moving to your back, unclasping it and throwing it carelessly to the side, along with your other clothes. Wide eyes while your stare remained on him, breath stammering as you awaited for him to say something.

“So gorgeous,” His hands roamed your body, from your thighs, to your hips, your waist, you back, “Oh, sweetheart,” He shook his head. That pet name was enough to make your knees weak, like it always has, then he leaned down to near your ear, “I don’t know you?” He repeated once more, his tongue clicking, “I think you’re wrong.”

“Chris-“

“It’s fine, I’ll prove it to you,” He interrupted, watching your every move. Your breath, expression, those eyes of yours that always seemed to captivate him like his do to you. A hand of his moved up to your chin, “Yeah?”

You nodded eagerly, a whine of desperation leaving you as his hand on your lower back moved to your hip, to your inner thigh, then dipped.

──── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 . . . !

#₊⊹⁀➴ 𝐌𝐑𝐋𝐗𝐘𝐒 ᥫ᭡#chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #angst #marvel #steve rogers #chris evans #smut #chris evans smut

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mrlxys · 2 years ago

Text

•°. *࿐ 𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐒

➣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! henry cavill x singer!fem!reader

➣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! swearing

➣ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ! i dont like this that much..

━━ SUMMARY :: what if he came back?

➺ ❛ ⌗ lovers to strangers to …? ❜

⤷ PART 1 ➠ 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗚𝗢

❪ masterlist ❫ ⋆. ⟢ ˚

Liked by oliviarodrigo, madisonbeer and 3,201,381 others

@y/nsofficial last night was amazing! thank you for having me !!

@y/nsmymotherfr mother during vigilante shit. omg.

@hcswife LITERALLY I SCREAMED

@musiclover anyone see those pics of her at the beach??

@reputation4eva did yall see her at the surprise songs? she was a mess???

@idkksalvatore HENRY DIDNT SHOW UP TO HER SHOW⁉️⁉️⁉️

@chanted444me WHATTT😨

You put your phone down after a while. Being on twitter and tiktok was just not the right move. Almost everything you’ve seen was about you on that beach, and the fact that Henry didn’t go to your show. You didn’t know when to reveal you were broken up, but that was quickly solved. You posted a tweet saying,

You then immediately shut your phone off, scared you might’ve done the wrong thing. You were no longer at your best friend’s house. You got off the bed, even if you didn’t want to. You wanted to curl up in a hole and never leave. The pang in your heart appeared every time your mind wandered off to him. You knew it would get better with time, but it was still unbelievable that he wasn’t with you anymore. That you weren’t with him.

Almost as soon as you tweeted it, your phone started buzzing. You shook your head and sighed, bored out of your mind. Usually, you would facetime someone, but you didn’t feel like it currently. You decided to go for a walk, so you grabbed a sweater and was then out the door. It was a quiet night, barely anyone was around. There were cars driving, a few lights opened, but that was it.

You wrapped your arms around your waist as you stared at the ground, goosebumps rising on your skin as you held in a breath. Your mind went back to the tweet you just wrote, and knew your best friend would be laughing at how maturely you were handling the whole situation. Not a single hint of how it ended, not one shady comment, nothing. You started debating if you should’ve, but quickly came to the conclusion that this was Henry you were on about. Your former lover. The one person you thought would be with you forever. Life is such a bitch.

You were still in public, and being in public meant there are eyes everywhere; even if there aren’t a lot of people. So, you pulled yourself together and kept on walking. You eventually made it to a quiet park. No one was around, and if you were being honest, a scenery of how a horror movie would usually start. Henry knew that about you. Your mind would always go to the worst places and you couldn’t pull yourself out. He did, though. He always did. He made sure you felt protected and safe at all times. He was there when you needed him, and that how it always was; until recently.

You wondered what would’ve happened if you didn’t say anything. You and Henry would still be together, and you wouldn’t be feeling this tremendous loss. Losing someone who’s still here is a pain that’s unexplainable. Deep down, you knew the breakup was the good thing that happened. You’ve always put anyone before you, but this time. For once in your entire life, you deserved to put yourself first. You were fully convinced he was the love of your life; you still are. Sure, you’ve been through breakups before, but nothing like this.

6 years of your life just vanished like it was nothing. Like he was nothing. All the memories, pictures, texts, were nothing but memories. As much as you told yourself that, you weren’t convinced. You miss Henry with everything in you, and you hate how you cannot seem to move on. You called it off; but you had every reason to. You will always love him, that much is obvious, but you needed an actual relationship with him. Your heart started pounding as you then felt yourself close to crying. One thing about being known, do not cry in public. So, you turned on your heels and went back to your place. As you were about to enter, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You tensed up, preparing yourself to scream. That is until you turned around and saw who it was.

Henry.

You then relaxed, until you realized you shouldn’t be as comfortable as you are around him. Neither of you said anything as you pulled him in, making sure no one was around to see. Confrontation or arguments in a public space with everyone—especially paparazzi—around, wasn’t something that you needed; especially right now. Your back was against the door once you shut it, making sure you left distance between you two. You didn’t know how you weren’t breaking down at the mere sight of him, but you were beyond grateful. You haven’t even seen a picture of him since that night, so this was a lot for you to take in.

You sucked in a deep breath as you two stared at one another, clearly not knowing what to say. “Y/N,” He sighed, “I’m sorry.” He continued, taking you by surprise. You let your confusion take over your features as it took every ounce of energy you had left to hold back the tears that gathered on your waterline.

“Why are you sorry?” You genuinely asked, “I broke up with you. It’s my fault, remember?” You tried your best to sound unbothered, but it wasn’t working. He then took a step forward, and you felt your chest tighten as you were close to losing yourself. “I’m sorry,” He repeated slowly. You locked eyes with him, your body gluing you to your spot as it took your best composure to not apologize again and cup his face, assuring him everything was perfectly okay.

He had an apologetic look that you couldn’t miss even if you tried. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” It slipped out before he could stop it, and that was your breaking point. Tears freely ran down your cheeks as you slid down the door. You covered your face with your hands as you looked down, feeling miserable and pathetic. Sobs escaped your lips as you tried to stop, but failed. You then felt an arm around you as he pulled you close. Your head was screaming at you to get up, to kick him out, anything but this.

You got yourself off the ground and walked away quickly, wiping your tears away. However, that was useless as more tears kept rolling down your cheeks. He went after you, gently grabbing your wrist to turn you around. You avoided his eyes, looking down as you tried to push him away. You weakly tried to push him away, your hands on his chest, changing from fists to an open hand. “I hate this, I hate you,” You started blabbering nonsense as you broke down, finally giving up on him leaving as you rested your head on the crook of his neck. Tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care.

His arms were now around you. One on your back, another was holding the back of your head. You were embarrassed and felt beyond pathetic. As you cried in his arms, he sat on the ground in the same spot, still holding you close. Your sobs turned faint until you finally stopped. “God, this is embarrassing.” You chuckled at yourself as you were sat on his lap. The previous tears stained your cheeks as he scanned you. “No, it isn’t.” He disagreed, he himself let out a few tears as you were bawling. You remember all the times he held you just like this. Comforting you, assuring you’re going to be fine, and just being there when you needed him.

“It really is,” You started, “I’m your ex. This is weird and wrong on so many levels.” You continued on, however he only tilted his head. You stood up, trying to back away but he only got closer. It seems like every step you take backwards isn’t helping, because in reality, it really isn’t. He made it clear that he was not leaving and wanted to talk this out. Henry processed that it was a 6 year relationship that just ended, and he wasn’t about to let that slide.

Your feet stopped as you your back hit a wall, making him tower over you. You bit back sobs as you avoided eye contact, feeling yourself crumble although all you want to do is be in his arms again; but you were better than that.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered once more, but you didn’t get why. The breakup was your fault. You dumped him. You said it was over; you. “For not being the person you deserve.” And there it is. The apology you never expected, but honestly should have since this was the sweet Henry you know; knew. You keep forgetting things have changed. You’ve changed, he’s changed, and you didn’t know if it was for the better or worse.

“What do we do now, hm? You apologized, and my mind is a mess—“ You forced down a sob, “And I don’t know how—“ You kept cutting yourself off, unsure of what to say or how to put your feelings into words. His hands slowly moved, locking eyes with you as a silent way of asking for permission, and when you didn’t say anything except a very small nod, his hands moved to your cheeks.

“I know, I know,” He repeated softly. His apology was real. His words were real. His love is real. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it.” Henry said. He was respectful, that’s the man he is. The only question is, what is it you want? You didn’t know if this should go back to how it was, maybe ending in a different way? Or maybe not going back with that pain of knowing you could’ve being carried with you wherever you go? You didn’t know.

“I need time to think.” You finally looked up at him after thinking for a few minutes in silence, “It’s too much,” You inhaled a deep breath, “And I love you, but I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt myself again, hurt you…” You trailed off, unsure of where your thoughts were taking you.

He nodded in acknowledgement, “I understand.” He dropped his hands, and suddenly, this felt real again. He silently left you, leaving you with your overwhelming thoughts and feelings. Now, there were two options:

Possibly reignite the relationship you two once had, which could end in a disaster or a never—ending love you’ll forever cherish,

or leave, and always knowing you could’ve gone back but didn’t.

Oh how you hate your indecisiveness.

──── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 . . . !

#₊⊹⁀➴ 𝐌𝐑𝐋𝐗𝐘𝐒 ᥫ᭡#henry cavill imagine #henry cavill #angst #dc universe #taylor swift #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #x reader #sad ending #happy ending

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mrlxys · 2 years ago

Text

•°. *࿐ 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎

➣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! henry cavill x singer!fem!reader

➣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! mentions of sex, angst, arguing

➣ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ! i actually really like this.

━━ SUMMARY :: no love, just usage at that point

➺ ❛ ⌗ lovers to strangers ❜

⤷ PART 2 ➠ 𝗥𝗨𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗦

❪ masterlist ❫ ⋆. ⟢ ˚

Your eyes fell on Henry’s figure. His eyes were hooded as he opened his phone, exhaustion clear in his eyes. You were about to start a conversation you were sure you’d be screaming at yourself for starting later, but it had to be done. You and Henry haven’t had an actual conversation in what felt like forever, and it was tiring. You were so done and you needed more than sex. It was like an arrangement. An arrangement that was made unspoken, and was about to come to an end.

At first you didn’t think much of it; but over time, it had to stop. Sex was not enough, and it never will be. As much as you loved him, it wasn’t enough to let you surpass how he uses you to let out his frustration and anger. It had to end. You let this slide for far too long, and you were sure the weight on your shoulders would be lifted once you broke up.

“Henry,” You took a deep breath, your eyes glued to the floor as you were thinking about what to say next. You’ve delayed ‘the talk’ for a while, so it almost felt surreal that it was now happening. His eyes moved to the back of your head as you were standing and fiddling with your fingers. Once you finally turned around, your eyes immediately locked with his. He shut his phone and placed it on the nightstand, arms crossing. You sat on an empty space on the bed, your eyes filled with worry and pain.

He knew it was about to be a serious talk, and that scared him. You two usually didn’t have conversations about things that are serious, so this honestly frightened him. Your mind suddenly went blank once you saw his expression. Sure, he may be an actor, but he couldn’t hide his feelings from you even if he tried; you knew him too well. You loved him so much, and hell, it has been such an incredible 6 years with him, but it needed to stop. It had to end.

“We can’t—“ You didn’t know how to start this, “we can’t be together.” You saw his face fall, eyebrows raised, and his mouth open as he tried to find the right words. He attempted to grab your hands, but you instantly pulled them away, scared of giving in. “What did I do?” He faintly asked. You shook your head, “We’ve stopped acting like a couple. It’s just sex now, and honestly, that’s not good enough for me.” You spoke your truth, and it was too late to back out now.

“Please,” He pleaded as you looked down, avoiding his gaze as you were close to breaking. He sucked in a deep breath and cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. You bit your lip as it started to tremble, trying so hard to pull yourself together. You got off the bed and walked out of your room. You were pacing back and forth the kitchen as your heart was rapidly beating. Your eyes glossy, threatening to release tears and ruin your calm self.

He wasn’t far behind, now standing directly in front of you as he tried to reason, “I can’t do this,” You breathed out, slightly shaking your head, “I love you, okay? You know that. I will always love you, but we don’t even have a relationship anymore. It’s just us fucking when you’re stressed, Hen.” You shook your head, looking at the ground. It was now silent; way too silent for your liking. Your eyes flickered to his beautiful eyes that now softened at the sight of you.

“I can change. We’ll go back to the way we were, okay?” Henry tried his hardest to compromise. Desperation in his voice, worry in his eyes, and his hands on your hips. A tear managed to escape your eye, rolling down your cheek as you laughed humorlessly, shaking your head, “This has been going on for so long I’m not sure how you could.” You then tilted your head, his thumb wiping the tear away.

As you looked up, his eyes were glossy as well. You wanted to hug him and take every damn thing back, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. Henry once again opened his mouth, yet nothing escaped. “Please, please,” He refused, cupping your cheek, “I need you.” He whispered, tears now falling freely.

Henry wasn’t a very emotional person. You’ve rarely seen him cry, but when you did, it was heartbreaking. You could’ve sworn you heard your heart shatter, almost like glass as it felt like every bit of your glass-like-heart was being removed. Henry has been such an important person in your life for 6 years, and you didn’t know how you were going to deal without him. He would hold you when you needed someone, understood you in ways no one else ever could, would drive you around town to the beach in the night when you couldn’t sleep, blast music with you in the car, support your work. Just everything about him was perfect.

“I love you,” You repeated, “but for once I need to put myself first.” Your voice was shaky, and tears were no longer held back. You wanted to say more, but you couldn’t think of any of the right words to say. “I will always support and love you. I’ll always be watching from afar. You know that,” The corners of your mouth twitched upwards for a second, knowing you will. “Please find someone that’ll love you and be there for you in ways I won’t be able to.”

“I don’t want someone else,” He honestly said, making you shake your head, “We can’t be together.” You then moved his hand away from your cheek; engulfing it in your hands before letting it drop to his side. Your hands moved to his face, holding his face, before pressing a soft and slow kiss on his lips. He pulled you close, hands resting on your lower back.

It was long and sweet; something you haven’t experienced in a while. As soon as you pulled away, he pulled you back in for one last kiss. You gave in, knowing both of you needed it. Your hands on his chest as you then pulled away. You grabbed your purse and left, sobs leaving your lips once you shut the door, walking to your car. Hands covering your face as the tears ran down your cheeks freely, driving around the corner as your vision began to be blurry. The man who you assumed to be the love of your life, was now gone. All because of you.

Tour. You were overjoyed you were going on tour right after the breakup, giving you a distraction from all the pain and suffering you’ve been through. You were now getting your makeup and hair done in his shirt. Your favorite one, too. You zoned out thinking about all the memories you had while wearing this shirt. When you stole it, when he confronted you and he jokingly swore he was going to get it back, wearing it to the beach on one starry night at midnight.

He never got it back.

You cleared your throat to avoid any tears. You were on tour and you had to stop yourself. You were on in 10 and you were thrilled about it, it was going to be amazing. You were sure of it. “Okay, you’re done.” Your hairstylist, Cassidy, informed you. You gave her a nod along with a smile and got off the chair, your eyes set on your outfit. You then changed into your outfit, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“You look amazing,” Cassidy spoke, your makeup artist agreeing as she clapped. “Sweetie, you look great!” Your mom hugged you, then twirled you around as you two laughed. “Thank you guys.” A kind smile on your face as you giggled.

It’s been a bit. It was now time for the surprise songs and you were feeling like you wanted to rip your heart out of your chest, eyes glassy with memories of him. You could see your best friend in the VIP area, giving you a nod to encourage you.

“So,” You cleared your throat, the thousands of people in front of you curious for what songs you have chosen, “I’m gonna start off by saying this night has been unbelievable,” You laughed. The crowd was already going wild, clapping and making some noise, “And I’m so grateful for everyone here tonight. I didn’t need a long time to come to a decision for these songs. This is from the vault, and it means so much to me. I hope you guys enjoy it, and relate to them as much as I do. I really need this, and some of you may need it, too.”

You sat at the piano, hands shaking as you glanced to the supporting crowd. You bit your lip as you pressed the first key, and your mind just wandered off to memories of him.

You say “I don’t understand”

And I say “I know you don’t”

The crowd cheered and sang along, screams and gasps being heard.

We thought a cure would come through in time

Now, I fear, it won’t

You looked around, a tear running down your cheek as you continued singing. Your hands on the piano as your eyes scanned the room, remembering when he used to come to your tours. When he used to blast the songs of your newest album once he got home from work, a bright smile on his face as you pecked him. That seemed like forever ago, and you’d do anything to feel that type of love again. His love again.

How long could we be a sad song

'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life

I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy

And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

Your voice broke. Looks of concern and empathy on your mother and best friend’s faces, sadly singing along as they knew. You were pretty sure everyone knew. Paparazzi took millions of photos of you walking into your house looking like a wreck, and the media went wild. You loved Henry with everything in you, so you couldn’t unfollow him or block him, even though your best friend wanted you to.

Fighting in only your army

Frontlines, don't you ignore me

I'm the best thing at this party

Flashes of memories with you and him at parties with friends, dancing and drinking just corrupted your mind. His laughter and playful comments filling your ears whenever you made some sarcastic remark. The way he held you, the way he placed kisses in your hair before you fell asleep, how he got you flowers on a random day because he missed you. How tight, safe, and loving his hugs were after he traveled.

You're losin' me

And I wouldn't marry me either

A pathological people pleaser

Who only wanted you to see her

And I'm fadin', thinkin'

You then remembered the ending to your relationship. Why it ended. You felt like he got tired, no matter how he pleaded that night. He needed something new—someone new in his life. You weren’t that. After 6 years, you wondered if he didn’t want you anymore. You wondered if he wanted a future with you.

"Do something, babe, say something"

say something

"Lose something, babe, risk something"

you’re losin’ me

"Choose something, babe, I got nothing

got nothing

To believe

Unless you're choosin' me"

It felt like it was one sided love at the end. You would always care and love him, you just hoped you’d stop being in love with him soon enough. You’ve never felt so much pain in your life, and you didn’t know how to cope.

You're losin' me

Stop

stop stop

You're losin' me

Stop

stop stop

You're losin' me

You sucked a deep breath, looking up at the sparkly night as another tear rolled down your cheek. Memories of you two sitting in front of the ocean. The moon shining above you as you two talked and laughed till sunrise. Your hands intertwined as you felt like you could tell him anything. No one around, it was just the two of you. How he hugged you and kissed you. How he braided your hair when you were looking off into the distance once you two had a comfortable silence.

I can't find a pulse

My heart won't start anymore

As you stopped singing, you took out your earpiece, hearing how loud it was. You laughed, then wiped your tears with your knuckles as your smile widened, “I love you all.” You honestly said. You made a heart, then blew them several kisses as you moved your hair to your shoulder. “And for the second song,” You sighed, “This song is very dear to me. And it’s true, it will always be true.” You nodded, “Always.” You then whispered.

I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own

The crowd got loud once again as you put your earpiece back in. Your eyes closing as you sang, squeezing your eyes shut as you smiled. More and more memories flashing.

And all at once

you are the one I have been waiting for

King of my heart

body and soul

You smiled as you opened your eyes. Your eyes moved all over the crowd. Your supporters singing along and cheering.

And all at once

you are the one I have been waiting for

King of my heart

body and soul

And all at once

you're all I want

I'll never let you go

King of my heart

my heart

body and soul

my soul

You saw people taking pictures and videos, and your mind was still stuck on him. After he traveled for the last time, it hasn’t been the same since. You tried asking, but he would just shrug it off. It would never end the way you wanted it to, but you always accepted it and loved him.

And all at once

I've been waiting

waiting

And all at once

you are the one

I have been waiting

waiting

Body and soul

And all at once

And just like that, the first night of your tour was done. You stood up from your seat, standing in the middle of your stage as your eyes scanned the people in front of you, giving them a small wave as you waited for them to calm down. “This is a night I will forever remember.” Your eyes went to where Henry would usually be whenever he got a break from work and came, “I am so grateful for all of you. Thank you for being here. I love you all.”

You took a deep breath as you sat in your oversized sweater, playing with the sleeve as you pouted. The show was over and you were tired, but could not sleep whatever you tried to do. Usually at a time like this, you’d go to the beach with Henry. He knew you so well, and he knew you’d always enjoy it. You had no idea how, or what gave him the idea, but he just did. Sometimes it felt like he knew you better than yourself. With a huff, you grabbed your car keys and got into your car.

Maybe it’ll help.

You took your shoes off, leaving them in the car as you walked on the sand. Where you would usually be holding hands with Henry, laughing and taking pictures. But now you were all alone. Well, you always had your friends, but it was never the same. He was your one true love, and you didn’t know if you would ever recover. You’ve had exes, but no one compared to him. No one ever could, and no one ever will.

You haven’t sobbed since the night of the breakup. You wouldn’t let yourself break, because you were too afraid you wouldn’t be able to stop. You lost someone who was still alive, still there, but at the same time wasn’t. It was terrifying. Thankfully no one was around, just how you liked it. Memories came flooding back, and it was hard containing yourself. You would always cherish him. Somedays you’d catch yourself daydreaming about being with him, marrying him, but you would never be able to.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you broke. You finally let a sob escape, no longer biting your lip as you started trembling. Pulling your legss to your chest, chin rested on your knees, staring off into the gorgeous night sky. The stars were sparkling, the wind was calm, and it was just what you needed. The sand was soft, you weren’t loud, and you were in your sweater and sweatpants. You thought about one of the hoodies you still had of his, but quickly shook that away. It was pathetic enough you were breaking down on the beach, you didn’t need any more memories to complete the breakdown.

With a humorless chuckle at how pathetic you were, you walked to your car and grabbed the hoodie. No paparazzi around, not one person was there. It seemed like a start of a horror movie, and Henry sure as hell wouldn’t let you go alone, but he wasn’t in your life anymore. You curled up in your previous position, the hoodie in your arms as you let your tears roll down your cheeks. You then took your phone, and opened it, seeing tweets about your show. You liked some, replied to others, then eventually put it down.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you let your mind wander off. You’ve held yourself together for a while, it felt weird breaking now. The facade of being okay, of being perfectly fine for so long finally broke. You’ve said you were fine more times that you could imagine, saying that it was all right and means nothing. But six years. Six years of him and memories with him; it felt surreal he was gone.

No more travel surprise visits when he was filming a movie in another country, no more bouquets of your favorite flower because he missed you, no more good morning or goodnight texts and kisses, no more hearing his voice. You were done. You were shattered beyond repair, and had no idea how you were going to recover. You were thankful that your tour was beginning so that you had a distraction from the heartbreak.

After a little while, you wiped your tears away and got up. You put your shoes on and drove to where your best friend was staying. She looked surprised when you opened the door, but let you in nonetheless. Your lips trembled as you shut your eyes, squeezing them shut as she pulled you into her arms. No words had to be spoken, the two of you just knew. An understanding. You’d always love her for that. For being there for you, for never leaving you. You cherished that.

──── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 . . . !

#₊⊹⁀➴ 𝐌𝐑𝐋𝐗𝐘𝐒 ᥫ᭡#alternate universe #henry cavill angst #henry cavill x you #x reader #eras tour #taylor swift #youre losing me #unreleased music #henry cavill imagine

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mrlxys · 2 years ago

Text

•°. *࿐ 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘

➣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! chris evans x fem!famous!reader

➣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! a lot of thirst tweets are said, swearing

➣ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ! thought of this and decided to write it!

━━ SUMMARY :: you and chris reading thirst tweets just because <3

➺ ❛ ⌗ lovers ❜

❪ masterlist ❫ ⋆. ⟢ ˚

“Hey, I’m Y/N L/N,” You greeted with a smile, then looked over at Chris who was looking at you before his head swung to the camera, “And I’m Chris Evans.”

“And we are here with BuzzFeed to read thirst tweets.” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as the words came out, “We haven’t even started and you’re a wreck.” Chris laughed along, doing his signature boob grab as he almost fell off his chair as he lost his breath.

“We’re professionals, I swear.” You then tried to pull yourself together with a stern face, but broke a smile as you excused your behavior to the camera. “Okay, who’s first?” You then spoke and turned over to Chris.

“Lady’s first.” He smiled.

“Such a gentleman,” You teased and pressed a tweet on the phone in your hand, “Oh, God. And, by the way, we’re reading each other’s thirst tweets to switch it up, ‘cause why not?” You shrugged as you thought of a reason, before stifling a laugh as you read the tweet in your head. “Chris Evans can rearrange my organs ‘till I’m that girl on Kevin Gates story.” You gaped with your eyes wide before throwing your head back into a fit of laughter.

“Is it that one story that everyone gushed about for a day?” He asked you innocently before you nodded, seeing realization hit him. A blush crept onto his cheeks as he stayed speechless. He then cleared his throat and tilted his head towards you, “And why do you know that story?”

“Well, because curiosity kills the cat. No, seriously, that story changed me. It’s natural, but still not something you see everyday.” You shrugged as he nodded in understanding, “Your turn, Evans.”

“Y/N is mother. Like honestly, mother was mothering a lot recently, and I swear I could fall onto my knees in front of her and [ REDACTED ] [ REDACTED ] [ REDACTED ]” He read, making you giggle once again. He cleared his throat and spoke up, “Gotta admit, I’m a bit intrigued on what they were thinking while writing this.”

“Scroll on twitter long enough and you’ll find out,” You answered almost immediately, “The moment I knew I was a Steve girl was the moment I saw him looking like a Goddamn glazed donut.” She smiled, making him let out a laugh, “Don’t get your hopes up, he doesn’t always look like that.” You said sarcastically with a shake of your head, getting a certain look from Chris.

“Rude.” He scoffed, making your facade falter, “I want—no, need and deserve to get absolutely demolished by Y/N L/N.” He stated. You gasped for a moment, “I’ve read worse. I want the big guns, I know they’re there.”

“What do you mean ‘you’ve read worse’?” He furrowed his brows as he crossed his arms over his chest, causing your eyes to flicker down to his arms before settling back on his blue eyes. “Well, I’ve read books, wattpad, tumblr, tiktok captions and filthy ass comments exist, y’know…” You shrugged. He slightly opened his mouth in surprise, “Oh, don’t act surprised. You knew I read things, you just didn’t know what.” You nonchalantly said.

“Y’all talking about which cars your dream rides are. Nah, Chris motherfucking Evans is my dream ride. We are not the same.” She laughed as she nodded, “Real.” The word slipped out before you could even stop it, getting a playful look from everyone behind the camera, “Don’t be so judgy! Everyone here is so judgmental.” You jokingly said, getting a pillow thrown by your manager, aka, one of your closest friends.

“Would I immediately date Y/N if I get the smallest chance? One hundred percent. Would she be committing a crime? Absolutely. Do I mind? No. Not one bit.” He read. You hid your face with your hands, laughing as you then put them down once you were done; however a smile still evident on your face. “Do not know how to react to that.”

“‘Till—no, we are not stopping. I want Chris absolutely on the brink of exploding, a literal whimpering mess. I want that man to look me dead in the eye and tell me if I stop I’ll literally spend the rest of the day regretting everything I’ve ever done.” You said as if it was the most casual thing ever, while Chris was debating if he should stay silent or laugh.

“Damn. How do I recover from that?” He asked you playfully, “Don’t know, don’t care.” You shrugged, earning a hit on your shoulder by him in a jokingly response.

“My wife Y/N is underrated. Where are her nsfw posts on tumblr? I want her edits all over my for you page, I want to literally be mortifyingly obsessed with this woman. I don’t give two flying fucks who she dates ( sorry chris x ) or how big our age gap is; when I see an attractive woman, I want her!” He enthusiastically said, “I don’t know how to feel about this. Never mind, I do. No.” He then placed a kiss on your cheek as you just eyed him teasingly.

“What does…nsfw even mean?” He asked you genuinely as he made sure he wasn’t just hallucinating it. “It’s like inappropriate things someone would do, I guess.”

“Do you even know what it stands for?” Your manager asked from behind the camera, “No! I do not. Honestly, thought about googling it, decided not to. I mean seriously, what does nsfw stand for? Not safe for widows?”

Chris, once again, did his boob grab as he laughed, eyes squinting as you watched him with your eyes filled with love. You weren’t able to hold back a few giggles. He had tears streaming down his face at your sentence, making you wipe them away before turning to the camera.

“He’s so daddy. He actually surpassed that, he’s moved to zaddy. Oh, he definitely whimpers.” You tilted your head at the last sentence, unsure if you read it right as you bit your lip to bite back a laugh—something that seemed to be happening a lot more than you thought, “I will not be saying anything that will stir anything up.” You paused before whispering to the camera, “He so does.”

The people behind the it seemed to gasp and laugh, making Chris tilt his head at you, “Hey, man, just giving the people what they want.” You defended.

“Not sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that Y/N has those thighs. Respectfully, let me eat you.” He laughed as he shifted in his seat. You didn’t miss that look on his face, “Ugh, thank you.” You bowed, “Respectfully, of course.”

“Chris Evans? Nah, Chrizz Evans.” You laughed, “I actually saw this one.” You flicked your hair off your shoulders in a gleeful manner. “You just read these when you’re bored?”

“Again, read way worse. You would not believe the things people say about you in random comments.”

“I would literally bend myself over backwards just to get a glance from Y/N. I would absolutely let that woman cuff me and run me over ‘till sunrise.” He read with furrowed brows, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“I am…honored.” You gulped with a nervous smile, “But do not…just—“ You did not know how to react to that as you felt your cheeks warm up. “Thank you.”

“Sure messed you up, didn’t it?” Chris laughed at your reaction, making you hit his arm.

“Chris Evans, please stick your tongue down my throat.” You then said, glancing over at Chris for his reaction. “All right, two more then we’re done, right?” You asked, getting a nod from your manager.

“I would let Y/N L/N ruin my life twice, and get away with it.” He looked up at the camera, “facts.” He then continued on, shocking you.

“I’m in a getaway car,” You sang, “Sorry. Anyway! Christopher, it would mean the world to me if you could just place a laptop on my tits, then slam it shut.” You laughed with your eyes wide, seeing him speechless as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I guess this is it for now. This has been—a joy, to say the least. Wouldn’t you say?” You turned your head to Chris, “Definitely something to remember.” He laughed.

“An experience I will forever cherish,” You put your hands on the place your heart is, “And do not forget you may personally send me whatever comments you want on my instagram.”

You then waved to the camera as it ended, looking over at Chris. “Do people really—“

“You have no idea.” You cut him off, a hand on his shoulder.

──── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 . . . !

#₊⊹⁀➴ 𝐌𝐑𝐋𝐗𝐘𝐒 ᥫ᭡#chris evans x reader #chris evans #fluff #chris evans fluff #thirst tweets #steve rogers #social media au

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mrlxys · 2 years ago

Text

•°. *࿐ 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊

➣ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! jake peralta x fem!insecure!reader

➣ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ! body dysmorphia, mental health issues

➣ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ! i have no idea what this is

━━ SUMMARY :: that little voice in your head wins

➺ ❛ ⌗ impossible love & friends to strangers ❜

❪ masterlist ❫ ⋆. ⟢ ˚

You took a deep breath as you closed your book, putting it away as you got tired. It was almost time to leave, so you just scrolled on your phone for a bit.

“Y/N!” None other than Gina Linetti yelled to grab your attention. She succeeded. You looked up as she motioned for you to come over. You got on your feet, and walked over with a small smile, “The crew’s going for drinks later, you know, the usual, but I’ve heard you don’t want to come?”

“Uh—yeah,” You nodded as your brows furrowed, “Why?” Gina took a deep breath as she looked at you with a certain look that you read as ‘seriously?’.

“You’ve been missing out on going anywhere with us; is something up?” Gina intertwined her hands as she looked up at you, eyeing you, “Nope, I’m perfectly fine.” The lie immediately left your lips as you shrugged, “Just a bit tired. I’ve never been one for hangouts, anyway.”

“Mhm.” She nodded unconvinced, motioning as to tell you ‘okay, go’. You put on the smile you had and returned to your desk, sitting down in your seat. You then heard a loud laugh, making you turn your head in the sounds direction. It was Amy and Jake talking, Amy seemingly laughing at something Jake had said.

You involuntarily formed a sad smile, then looked away before anyone could see you look at them. If someone knew, you thought repeatedly. God, how you had the biggest crush on Jake. It started as a giddy middle school crush, before it turned into something more. It was long before Amy ans Jake got together, so it was so hard to try to make your feelings disappear. Not to mention you and Jake are very close friends.

Jake and Amy were the perfect couple. You would never do anything to damage their relationship, no matter what. Yes, you and Jake were close, but you and Amy were also friends. Sabotaging their relationship would be the last thing you would ever do. You wouldn’t blame Jake for getting with Amy, anyway. She was so incredibly smart, let alone gorgeous. You’re not jealous of Amy, but you just aspire to be like her.

“N/N!” Jake clapped in front of you, making you jump in your seat, “What the hell?” You furrowed your brows as you looked up at him. He crossed his arms as he looked concerned and serious at the same time, “Why’re you not going anywhere with us?” He asked as he narrower his eyes at you.

“I’m just not in the mood,” You sighed to stand up, before he pushed you back onto the chair. You tilted your head in confusion, “I’m being honest, Peralta.” You shook your head with a shrug.

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” He let out a breath as he grabbed a chair. He sat in front of you. You knew how this was gonna go. He wouldn’t leave you alone, bug you with questions before you finally admit what was up. Not this time, though. You literally could not bear to let your heart break even more, especially seeing them somewhere other than work. Besides, you wouldn’t have had a chance either way.

Your insecurities would get the best of you, and not let it down until you distanced yourself from him and eventually breakup. Well, that’s not how your relationships went. It’s what you were told during those relationships that affected you and made you the way you are.

“Y’know how lucky you are to be with me?”

“You were always something to pass time with.”

“Look at you. Why would I be with you out of all people?”

The memories flashed, causing you to swallow a lump in your throat. His hand went on yours, “Just tell me.” He was genuinely concerned. Jake always cared about his friends, something you loved about him. Loved, shit, you freaked out and stammered, “I gotta go.” You grabbed your bag and strutted to the elevator in a hurry. You felt everyone’s eyes on you, and you just closed your eyes as you walked into the elevator, before Jake threw one of Scullys’ bag of chips to keep the elevator opened.

“Okay, seriously, what is up with you?” He stopped the elevator, then turned to you. He cornered you, making your breath hitch, “What’s up with you?” You chuckled in disbelief as your hands pushed him away softly. He tilted his head in confusion now, “Just—leave me alone.” You turned to the button, until Jake grabbed your wrists.

“You should know me better than that,” He said as he blocked your view of the controls, “Please tell me.” He pleaded. You shook your head and backed up, suddenly feeling suffocated. Your mental health has gone to shit a while ago, your insecurities piling up with every passing minute, and the urge to breakdown was too much; not to mention overthinking. Sure, you may have overreacted before, but you had time to think about that later. Right now, all you wanted to do is get away from Jake Peralta.

You stayed quiet, head down, while you fidgeted with your fingers. He dropped his head back as a soft sigh left his lips. He knew you were stubborn, but usually he would’ve gotten through to you by now, “Is it really that scary you don’t wanna tell me?”

You looked up at him, giving him an answer without saying a word. He nodded, then moved to let you press the button, yet you paused, “If I could tell you, I would, but I’m not that kind of person.” Then pressed the button.

The next day was the same, yet you stayed quiet. You were more introverted than usual as you tugged the the hem of your sweater’s sleeves, in deep thought. You wondered if yesterday could’ve gone differently, but it couldn’t have. You felt Jake’s eyes on you, but you didn’t dare to even glance in his direction. You were finishing up paperwork, then got up to go to Captain Holt’s office.

“Y/N,” Gina grabbed you, making you almost lose your balance, “Hm?” You hummed. Rosa was stood beside you, making you jump a bit. Then, Rose hit your shoulder without warning, “What gives?” You hit her back, making her give you a glare you know wasn’t real.

“Did you tell Jake?” Gina sang. You knitted your brows together, obviously confused. Rosa sighed, “Did you tell Jake you wanted him in way too many ways?” She said casually. Your eyes widened and looked around to make sure no one heard, and thankfully, no one did.

“Say it louder, why don’t you?” You sarcastically stated as you crossed your arms, “Also, obviously not.” You continued.

“Well, why not?” Gina said as if it wasn’t obvious enough. “He is dating someone. I can’t ruin that, why would I? I don’t have a chance, anyway.” You shrugged, “Let it go. I’m not really bothered with this, and you both shouldn’t be either.”

“Yeah,” Gina hummed, “no.” She then continued, getting a nod from Rosa. “They’ve been talking about taking a ‘break’ for a bit, because they’ve been busy with work.” Rosa turned to you.

“That’s their business, and I will not interfere, so neither should you two!” You pointed at them with your index finger. You then walked back to your desk, ditching the idea to go to Captain Holt. Thankfully, it was time to leave, so you took your things and made you way to the elevator. And this time, Jake didn’t throw a bag of chips.

You were in your apartment, on the couch while you waited your pizza to arrive to start the movie. Then, the doorbell rang. Expecting it to be your order, you grabbed your cash and walked to the door, opening it to find Jake.

While you were about to slam the door shut, he put his hand on the door and pushed it open. You walked back to your couch, not saying a word as he shut the door, “Talk to me.” He sighed as you stayed quiet. You were in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, with your hair in a ponytail. “What do you want me to say?” You faintly said, trying so incredibly hard to not look at him.

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you.” He honestly spoke, “I can’t do that.” You finally turned to him, the gap between you two not being much—catching you off guard. As you were about to turn and look down as you’ve done before, his thumb and index finger held your chin, forcing you to look up at him, “I can’t,” You tilted your head ever so slightly, the words coming out as a whisper.

Before he let out a word, the bell rang. You swallowed a lump that formed in your throat, then stood up and walked to the door. You grabbed the cash beforehand, then opened the door to find a sweet woman with a pizza box, “Thank you,” You mumbled with a smile, then softly shut the door and walked back to the couch.

“Y/N—“

“No, you seriously don’t understand; I actually can’t tell you. It’s best if I don’t, Jake.” You cut him off before he can say anything. He doesn’t understand how much you being in his mere presence hurts you so much. You wouldn’t dream of ruining what makes Jake happy, not to mention Amy. Amy was such a kind and special person, you were honestly relieved Jake was dating her.

You then felt him intertwine your hands, making you look up at him with a confused expression, “I understand.” He nodded as he locked eyes with you. You mirrored his soft nod, as you cupped his cheek before being able to stop yourself. Your eyes widened just a bit before going back to your previous expression; trying to not make your thoughts obvious.

“I really can’t,” You whispered as tears welled up in your eyes, although they weren’t very obvious. He nodded and got up, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His lips formed into a thin line, making you suck in a breath.

As soon as he was out the door, tears freely rolled down your cheeks. Your knees were pulled to your chest, then grabbed the remote to put on your comfort movie. Everything has gone to crap—everything except your job, that is.

Mental health? Long gone.

Love life? Never existed.

Friendships? Either distance or are just fake.

Insecurities? Piling up by the passing second.

Life is truly not worth it.

──── 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 . . . !

#₊⊹⁀➴ 𝐌𝐑𝐋𝐗𝐘𝐒 ᥫ᭡#jake peralta #jake peralta imagine #x reader #brooklyn 99 #b99 imagines #andy samberg #angst #gina linetti #amy santiago #jake peralta x reader

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