#My fault

[clarkslana]

MY FAULT: LONDON (2025)

[optimism-blooms]

Matthew Broome As Nick Leister | MY FAULT: LONDON (2025)

[tvinspo]

CULPA MIA (2023)

[nat111love]

MY FAULT: LONDON (2025)

[alwaysalir]

MY FAULT: LONDON (2025)

"Did you mean what you said?"

[twistedreads]

So American —Nick leister

summary— You’ve fallen for the British boy from the uk. Inspired by the song So American by Olivia Rodrigo

warnings- none really, cute, lovey

a/n— I love this song so much, why not make a short imagine.

Masterlist

Nick had always been different from anyone you’d ever known. There was something about him—something effortless, something magnetic—that had pulled you in from the start.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself, that quiet confidence mixed with just the right amount of mischief in his eyes. Maybe it was his British accent, smooth and teasing, that made everything he said sound just a little more intriguing. Or maybe it was the way he made you feel like you were someone special, like every glance, every touch, every inside joke between you two meant more than just words.

Either way, you had fallen. Hard.

And now, here you were, wrapped in the arms of the boy who had become your entire world, stretched out on the grass under the hazy glow of streetlights.

“You’re staring again,” Nick teased, his voice laced with amusement.

You rolled onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow as you looked down at him. His brown curls were slightly tousled, the frosted blonde tips catching the glow of the city lights, making him look almost ethereal. His golden-tan skin was warm beneath your fingertips as you traced absent patterns along his arm.

“Maybe I like staring,” you murmured, lips curving into a lazy smile.

Nick smirked, eyes glinting as he reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Can’t say I blame you, love,” he said, his voice dripping with that familiar cocky charm.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the way your heart fluttered when he looked at you like that—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

There was something storybook-like about this moment, about the entire summer with Nick. The two of you had spent what felt like every second together—driving through empty streets at midnight, blasting music with the windows down, sneaking into places you probably shouldn’t have, chasing after something neither of you could name.

He was wild in a way you weren’t. Free in a way you never thought you could be. And yet, he made you feel like you belonged right there with him, like you weren’t just some ordinary girl—like you were something more.

“You’re so American,” he mused suddenly, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You raised a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nick shrugged, a small, teasing grin tugging at his lips. “Dunno. Just… you’re different. The way you say things, the way you do things. You get excited over the littlest things—like when we passed that old diner last week, or when you tried a full English breakfast for the first time and acted like it was some grand discovery.”

You laughed at the memory. “Okay, but you have to admit, those beans were weird with toast.”

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “See? So American.”

You scoffed, lightly swatting his arm. “And you’re so British. Should I start making fun of you for the way you say ‘aluminium’?”

Nick smirked, flipping onto his side so he was inches away from you. His voice dropped, turning soft, intimate. “I like that we’re different, though.”

The way he was looking at you—like you were something worth holding onto—made your breath hitch.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah.”

And then, before you could say anything else, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss.

You melted into him, sighing softly as his hand slipped behind your neck, tilting your head just enough to deepen it. His lips were warm, firm yet gentle, like he was savoring every second of it.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his thumb lightly stroking your jaw.

“I think I love you,” he murmured, so quiet you almost thought you imagined it.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, your fingers tightening slightly against his shirt.

“You think?” you teased, a small, breathless laugh escaping.

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “No. I know.”

The world around you faded away, the city noise in the distance nothing but a soft hum as you let his words sink in.

“Good,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his again. “Because I think I love you too.”

And maybe that was crazy—maybe it was too soon, too fast, too much—but with Nick, nothing ever felt like too much.

With Nick, it just felt right.

The words still hung in the air between you, weightless yet heavy, filling the space in a way nothing else ever had.

“I think I love you too.”

Nick hadn’t let you go since you said it. His arms had tightened around you, his fingers grazing slow, lazy circles against your back as if he was memorizing the shape of you, the feel of you.

“You’re not gonna take it back in the morning, are you?” he teased after a few minutes of comfortable silence, his lips brushing against your temple.

You smiled, shaking your head. “No. Are you?”

“No chance,” he murmured, tilting his head down to press another kiss to your lips—this one softer, slower, as if to say I meant it.

You felt so full—of him, of warmth, of something so new yet so right.

The city lights twinkled in the distance, the summer air still thick with warmth, but nothing felt as electric as the way Nick was looking at you.

“We should probably head back soon,” you murmured against his lips, though you made no effort to actually move.

Nick hummed, his hands slipping lower to rest on your hips. “We could. Or… we could stay out a little longer.”

You pulled back slightly, raising a playful brow. “You just want an excuse to keep kissing me.”

He smirked. “And what if I do?”

“Then I guess we have to stay.”

He grinned, leaning in to capture your lips again, his body pressing into yours, making your heart race all over again.

You eventually did go back, but not before Nick convinced you to take a detour—a long, winding drive with the windows down, music playing just low enough that you could still talk over it.

Nick was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily over your thigh, his thumb tracing mindless patterns against your skin. The simple gesture sent shivers up your spine, even though you were still wearing his hoodie over your dress.

“What?” he asked, catching the way you were watching him.

You shook your head, smiling softly. “Nothing. Just… you.”

Nick raised an amused brow. “Me?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, glancing at the dark road ahead. “I don’t know. I just—sometimes I wonder what I’d be doing if I never met you.”

Nick hummed, considering. “Well, you’d definitely be less entertained.”

You laughed, nudging his arm. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he said, throwing you a grin before shifting his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’d be somewhere out there, not realizing you were missing me. Which, frankly, sounds tragic.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach flipped at the way his fingers curled against yours.

“I just feel like… I don’t know, like meeting you changed everything,” you admitted softly.

Nick’s smirk faded slightly, replaced with something warmer, more thoughtful.

“Yeah,” he said after a pause, his voice quieter. “I know what you mean.”

You let the silence settle between you, comfortable, full, before squeezing his hand slightly.

“Where are we going, by the way?”

Nick smirked, squeezing back. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see, love.”

Nick’s grand plan? Climbing onto the rooftop of an old bookstore downtown.

“This is illegal, isn’t it?” you asked as you carefully followed him up, his hand firmly gripping yours to steady you.

“Only if we get caught,” he said over his shoulder, flashing you a grin.

You rolled your eyes but kept climbing. When you finally made it, the sight took your breath away.

The whole city stretched out before you, twinkling lights scattered like stars, the quiet hum of nightlife buzzing below. It felt like you were on top of the world, like nothing could touch you up here.

“Worth it?” Nick asked, nudging you.

You nodded, staring out at the skyline. “Yeah. Definitely.”

Nick sat down, pulling you into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. You curled into him, resting your head against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you.

“Told you I’d take care of you,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your temple.

You smiled, your fingers tracing slow patterns against his arm. “I know.”

A beat of silence passed before you whispered, “I love you, you know.”

Nick exhaled slowly, like the words settled deep into his bones. He turned, tilting your chin up so he could look at you.

“Say it again.”

You did.

And when he kissed you this time, it was slow, deep, like he was trying to memorize the way those words tasted on your lips.

That night felt like a dream, but in the days that followed, nothing faded.

Nick still looked at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world. He still teased you, still drove you crazy in the best way, still made you laugh until your stomach hurt. But now, there was something more—a quiet certainty, an unspoken promise in every kiss, every touch, every glance.

You weren’t just falling anymore.

You had already fallen.

And somehow, you knew he had too.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

My Fault London: Nick Blurbs

A/N: Kind of headcannons, kind of blurbs, all around just wanted to write for Nick :) Spicey Ver. Here!

Fast, Calculated

Nick’s car hums beneath you, the engine smooth as he weaves through the streets at an almost effortless speed. You know he’s in control, but that doesn’t stop your pulse from spiking every time he threads through tight gaps between cars like they aren’t even there.

“Nick—” you start, gripping the edge of your seat.

His smirk is almost lazy, but his eyes never leave the road. “Relax.”

“Relax? You’re going ninety in a fifty zone—”

Before you can finish, he smoothly takes a turn down an empty side street, braking just enough for the car to slide into place at the curb. His hand lands on your knee—firm, steady.

“You don’t trust me?” he asks, his voice softer now.

You exhale, your fingers still clenched against the seat. You hate that he always does this—pushes the limits, then pulls back just in time. Never reckless, but always toeing the line.

He watches you carefully. His hand doesn’t move. “I know what I’m doing,” he murmurs. “You know that.”

You swallow, heart still racing. Slowly, you force yourself to breathe.

Finally, you meet his gaze. “I do.”

His smirk fades into something almost unreadable, and for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. Then, as if the moment never happened, he pulls away and taps the wheel.

“Good,” he says, voice back to its usual cocky drawl. “Now, you picking the music, or are we just sitting in silence all night?”

Protective to a Fault

The party is too loud, too crowded. You regret coming the second you realize how packed it is, but Nick insisted he wasn’t letting you stay home alone.

“You gotta get out once in a while,” he had teased. “Or I’m gonna start thinking you secretly hate fun.”

You had rolled your eyes, but now, as you shift uncomfortably in the too-warm space, you almost wish you had stayed home.

Especially because the guy you’ve been trying to politely brush off for the last five minutes isn’t getting the hint.

“Come on, sweetheart,” the guy slurs, leaning in too close. “One dance—what’s the harm?”

Your stomach twists. “I said no.”

“That’s not what your eyes are saying—”

And then suddenly, Nick is there, standing between you and the guy like he was waiting for this moment.

“Hey, buddy,” Nick says, voice light, but there’s something dangerous underneath. “Didn’t she just say no?”

The guy scoffs, barely glancing at Nick. “Who the hell are you?”

Now normally Nick isn’t one for talking much. He likes to use his fists to communicate. But after promising his mother promising you, not to be so violent, he finds his restraint ticking like a clock at the moment. Nick tilts his head slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Someone with a short temper and a lot of free time. You wanna find out what happens when you ignore her again?”

The guy sizes Nick up, like he’s thinking about pushing his luck. But then Nick shifts slightly, and you know he’s already decided what will happen if this guy takes another step toward you.

The guy mutters something under his breath before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Nick doesn’t watch him leave. Instead, he turns to you, scanning your face. “You okay?”

You nod, exhaling. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He doesn’t say anything—just hands you the drink from his own hand instead of yours.

You frown. “What—”

“Mine’s not spiked,” he says simply.

The realization hits you all at once. You glance down at the drink you were holding. Had that guy—?

Your stomach churns.

Nick sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I told you,” he mutters. “You gotta stop trusting people. I get to do that for you.”

Soft Spot for Animals

It’s past midnight when you walk into Nick’s garage, expecting to find him working on his car. Instead, you see him crouched down beside a tiny, scrappy-looking kitten, offering it a piece of leftover sandwich.

You stop in your tracks, biting back a grin. “Are you—”

Nick looks up sharply. “Shut up.”

You raise your hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t say a word.”

He mutters something under his breath and focuses back on the kitten. It hesitates before snatching the food from his hand, its little ribs visible under its fur.

“You’re keeping it,” you say, matter-of-fact.

Nick scoffs. “Hell no.”

Two days later, you walk into the garage and find the same kitten curled up in his lap while he absently scratches behind its ears.

You smirk. “Not keeping it, huh?”

Nick doesn’t even look up. “It’s temporary.”

Sure.

Night Owl

Your phone buzzes at 2 AM.

Nick: Come outside.

You sigh but grab your hoodie anyway, stepping out into the night air. He’s leaning against his car, arms crossed, looking up at the sky.

“You always do this?” you ask, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “Show up unannounced in the middle of the night?”

He tilts his head toward the passenger seat. “Couldn’t sleep. Figured you couldn’t either.”

You blink. He’s not wrong, but… how does he know that?

Still, you don’t argue. You get in.

He drives with the windows down, the air cool against your skin. Neither of you speak, but the silence is comfortable. Eventually, he pulls up to an overlook where the whole city stretches below.

For a while, you just sit there, watching the lights. Then, out of nowhere, he says, “You ever think about leaving?”

You glance at him. “Where would we go?”

He taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “Somewhere new. Somewhere no one knows us.”

Something in his voice makes your chest tighten.

“You’d take me with you?” you ask quietly.

Nick turns his head toward you, his expression unreadable. Then, just as softly, he says, “Wouldn’t go without you.”

Actions Over Words

Nick isn’t the type to say he cares.

Instead, he just shows up.

When your car won’t start in the middle of the night while you’re over late at a friends house, you don’t even get through the second ring before he picks up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Car won’t start,” you mumble. “I—I didn’t know who else to call—”

“Where are you?” he asks, already moving.

Fifteen minutes later, he pulls up beside you. He doesn’t say a word—just pops the hood, fixes the problem in five minutes, then leans against the car with his arms crossed.

“Next time, don’t wait so long to call me,” he says.

You sigh, rubbing your arms. “I didn’t want to bother you—”

He clicks his tongue. “Dumbest thing I’ve heard all night.”

You smile. “So… I’m not a bother?”

Nick gives you a look. Then, to your surprise, he reaches out and flicks your forehead.

“You better not be,” he mutters. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

[webweabings]

AND I KNOW THERE IS SOMETHING ALL WRONG ABOUT ME, BELIEVE ME.

“Electra”, by Euripides, tr.Janet Lempke; // @sunsbleeding ; // “War of the Foxes”, by Richard Siken; // unknown; // “Fleabag”, by Phoebe Waller-Bridge; // unknown; // “Monsters”, by Nikita Gill; // unknown; // “Women and other monsters: Building a new mythology”, by Jess Zimmerman; // “Claustrophobia”, by Tracie MacVean; // Buffy The Vampire Slayer. 2.21 “Becoming: Part 1”

[hollywocd]

asha banks like/reblog ✨

[dumblr]

“My heart never beats that way. Only when you’re nearby.”

— Culpa Mia

[10ava01]

How is this movie so much better than the original????

This is gone be on my mind for the next few months!

[nvyah]

tbh i felt more realistic and less cringe!

(my opinion though) they really changed a lot in the storyline which felt more appropriate...and i kinda liked every change they made🤌🏻and these two are soooo🤌🏻🤌🏻

[rhyslarsenlover]

broken lips & bad ideas

warnings: strong sexual tension (15+), suggestive content, mild violence (injuries + patching up wounds), and heavy mutual pining with a side of banter.

the dim light casts long shadows across the room, the air thick with the lingering scent of sweat, blood, and adrenaline. nick is sprawled in your chair, head tilted back, lips curled in that infuriating half-smirk even as crimson drips from the corner of his mouth.

“you always gotta be the tough guy, huh?” you mutter, dabbing antiseptic over the gash on his cheek. he flinches, not from the sting, but from the way your fingers graze his jaw, lingering for just a second too long.

his eyes flick to yours, dark and unreadable, amusement laced with something heavier, something unspoken. “didn’t know you cared so much, sweetheart,” he rasps.

you scoff, pressing the cotton a little harder against his wound just to hear him hiss. “i don’t. just don’t want you bleeding all over my floor.”

a beat of silence.

the room crackles with something electric. then, before you can think twice, your fingers slide from his cheek down to his chin, tilting it up so he’s looking right at you. his eyes flicker to your lips, then back up, and suddenly the air between you is suffocating. “you should stop getting into fights you can’t win,” you say, voice softer now, betraying something you don’t want to name.

nick exhales a slow, measured breath, his smirk twitching at the corners. “who says i didn’t win?” you don’t answer. and that’s when you feel it, how tense he is beneath your touch. how his breath is just a little too slow, too measured. his tongue swipes across his busted lip, like he knows exactly what he’s doing, like he knows you’re watching.

“careful, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice all heat and gravel. “keep touching me like that, and i might start thinking you actually like having your hands on me.” your grip tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to hold him there. to remind him that you’re the one in control right now.

“you talk too much,” you say. nick chuckles deeply, but there’s something sharp in it, something hungry. “and you don’t talk enough. but that’s okay. i like a girl who lets her hands do the talking.” your fingers twitch against his jaw, and his smirk flickers, just for a second. like he felt it too, that shift in the air, the slow pull of something neither of you can name.

your thumb ghosts over the edge of his jaw, tracing the bruise blooming beneath the skin. his breath stutters. it’s quick, barely noticeable, but you catch it. and he knows you caught it. the tension between you is suffocating now.

nick shifts slightly in the chair, his knee brushing against your leg, just a whisper of contact, just enough to make your stomach twist. “you nervous?” he asks, and it’s not teasing, not cocky. it’s something else. something darker. you don’t answer. you just lean in, just enough so that your breath skims his cheek, so that you can feel the heat rolling off him in waves. his fingers twitch against his knee, like he’s fighting the urge to touch you.

nick’s lips part, breath shallow, eyes flicking between your mouth and your gaze like he’s caught in the pull of something he can’t fight. then, just when the tension feels like it might snap, he breaks into a boyish, knowing smile. cocky. infuriating. like he already knows how this ends.

then, before you can pull away, his hands grip your waist, firm, as he pulls you into his lap. a sharp inhale catches in your throat, hands bracing against his shoulders, but he just leans back, settling you against him like you were always meant to be there. “there,” he murmurs. “now we’re comfortable.”

he smirks up at you, his hands still resting on your waist as he looks up at you with a knowing glint in his eye. “you know, for someone who hates me so much, you sure seem to find a lot of excuses to be around me.”

you scoff, scanning his face, “don’t flatter yourself. i only agreed to let you in because you were hurt.”

he raises an eyebrow, his smirk never wavering. "sure, sweetheart. keep telling yourself that. you could have just as easily called an uber and sent me on my way. just admit you like taking care of me.”

you shake your head, “shut up,” you whisper, smiling softly as you look into your eyes.

his smirk falters for a second, caught off guard by the sudden softness in your expression. hands tightening slightly on your waist before he catches himself, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "make me." he challenges, his face inches from yours.

“god you’re such a cliche,” you breathe. he chuckles, his face inching closer, his breath mingling with yours. “says the girl sitting on the lap of the guy she supposedly can't stand." his eyes flick to your lips, daring you to deny it again.

you stay silent this time, a shaky breath as your hands move to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair.

his smirk widens, catching your shaky breath as a victorious smirk curls his lips. his thumb traces a subtle path along your hipbone through your shirt, a feather-light touch that makes the hair on your neck stand up.

you blush, “god nick..” you felt as if you could explode with the tension.

his eyes light up at the sound of his name on your lips like that. a sigh mixed with annoyance and something else, and he takes that as his opening.

his hand moves from your hip to your back, pulling you flush against him as he captures your mouth in a kiss.

you return the kiss eagerly, moving your hips slightly against his lap. nick groans into the kiss, one hand sliding into your hair, the other cupping your jawline. his lips curve into a genuine smile against yours as he pulls back just enough to murmur, "if i’m such a cliche, why are you kissing me back so hard?" “you’re never gonna let that go, are you?” you reply, rolling your eyes with a smile.

“not a chance in hell,” he smirks, pulling you back into another kiss while his hands explore your waist. "y/n.. if you roll your eyes like that again," he groans, "i swear..." nick’s voice trails off as his thumbs trace circles on your lower back.

“what?” you ask, challenging him as your hand returns to grip that same place on his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes.

“i’ll give you a better reason to roll your eyes,” he says, his hands travelling to your ass, squeezing gently.

you moan unexpectedly, rolling your hips again to relieve the ache that you felt in between your legs. “please do.” you reply, melting under his gaze. “your wish is my command, y/n.”

[zanephillips]

GABRIEL GUEVARA My Fault/Culpa mía (2023)

[nat111love]

MY FAULT: LONDON (2025)

[alwaysalir]

MY FAULT: LONDON (2025)