#i showed some friends this and they agree with you (if these were the songs you were referring to)

[transgender-catboy]

okay anon. I've been trying to figure out what you mean here, and so far I've narrowed it down to 2 options

either you think I'm this or I'm this

and I just wanna know. why.

[banj0possum]

My Lovely Melody

Yandere!Rockstar x GN!Reader

CW: yandere is a playboy before he meets reader, suggestive (creepy) thoughts, minor obsessive behaviour

🎸 Axel's been in many relationships with both men and women alike, but all of his little flings felt nothing more than that, just flings.

🎸 And he was content with it, I mean being a famous rockstar meant lots of people wanting a chance with you and he indulged in that fact.

🎸 He could sleep with whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he wouldn't have to deal with the commitment that comes with dating or any of that messy stuff.

🎸 So why the hell can't stop thinking about you ?!?!?!!

🎸 He scratched his head trying to make sense of it, his messy hair getting even more ruffled as he tries to get the image of your smile out of his head.

🎸 You were in a miscellaneous store full of alt clothing, trinkets and various other stuff when he walked in with his bandmates.

🎸 It was fairly normal when he came in the store. It was dim with some random punk song playing faintly in the background. His friends started exploring, looking at the graphic t-shirts and mugs shaped like skulls and the like.

🎸 He got a bit bored and wandered to the other side of the store. It had posters, candles and..who's that?

🎸 There you were, staring longingly at a plush toy sitting on one of the shelves, just standing there.

🎸 He didn't think much of it, probably just some person baked out of their mind. "Hey buddy, you doin' good?"

🎸 You snap out of your gaze and look at the big hulking man in front of you. You stutter out an apology and explain your little misfortune.

🎸 "So you want this..toy...but you can't afford it..?" He raises a brow at you as you nod, making him chuckle.

🎸 He thought for a moment, looking at the stuffed creature, well it wouldn't hurt to buy it for you, he's pretty well off from all the gigs and concerts he's been in so...

🎸 "How 'bout I buy this thing for ya then? But you owe me~" He winks, thinking he could score some quick sex for being such a 'gentleman'

🎸 But no, instead of a blush or a knowing smirk, you just looked at him with the widest, most innocent eyes he's ever seen, you were practically shaking with joy as he said it.

🎸 You thanked him profusely before listing off things you could do in return, treating him to some food, buying something for him in return, plain paying him back..he was a bit surprised.

🎸 "O-oh...uhm that was a joke heheh, y-you don't have to do all that babe..." He blushes.

🎸 The two of you head to the cashier, his friends spying from behind the aisles as his gaze is locked on the little ball of cuteness beside him.

🎸 Seriously? Did you even know who he was? This has never happened before...most of the time, he would pay for someone's drink or something and they'd be on his dick in seconds, but you, you were so..different...it felt nice..

🎸 You didn't even get it in a bag, you immediately took the plush after it was paid and hugged it close.

🎸 so cute so cute so cute so cute so cute!!!

🎸 "Hey uh..so me and my buds are in a band and uhm..wanna maybe..watch our next gig?" He asks nervously, he's never been so shy towards anyone!!

🎸 You agree, thinking it's the least you could do for what he did for you.

🎸 You take out your phone, Axel can't help but grin at the case, it was cute, like you~..

🎸 "Here's my number if..you need it.." You smile at him, that smile..that damn cute smile...you had his heart wrapped around your finger at this point.

🎸 "Th-thanks sugar..I'll see you there.." He smiles back as you part ways, he heads back to his friends who were bombarding him with questions as he watches you skip out of the store with your new little soft friend.

🎸 That night, he was getting ready for the show when he got a message notification and sees that you sent a picture of the show from one of the seats with some text "Good luck out there!"

🎸 His face was on fire as he realized you were there, he peeks out in the crowd and there you were, your little plush toy in tow.

🎸 You look so out of place from the people in spiky jewelry and dark outfits, you were just in a hoodie and baggy pants, albeit the hoodie had a MCR design on it, but you can tell it was very soft compared to the rest of the audience.

🎸 Finally it was time for the show to begin and it was the most passionate he's been in a while, it seemed as if the words he was singing were dedicated to you and you alone.

🎸 The little glances at you made you giddy, like a friend seeing their bestie perform, you were cheering excitedly for him, not in a fangirly way, but one of genuine support and amazement.

🎸 After the performance, Axel tried finding you, but the crowd was too big and he assumed you must have left already.

🎸 Wait..why is he being so buddy buddy with you? You just met today! It's not like you two were best friends or anything!

🎸 He tried dismissing the thought of you, tried distracting himself by flirting with other people, but he could only think about you, and making you smile like that again..

🎸 no no no! get out of my head!

🎸 Maybe a little fling can ease his mind?

🎸 Even on his bed with some random girl after show, he can still think of you.

🎸 Would your skin be as soft? or maybe softer? How would your hair smell? He bets your moans would sound delicious..

🎸 shit FUCK!!

🎸 Even after his one night stand, he kept thinking of you

🎸 He stares at your messages, you sent a lot of pictures of your plush toy doing goofy things to him, so cute..so silly...he can't help but smile.

🎸 He decides to look you up on social media and..

🎸 Wait a minute...you make music too?

yep this was a bit short but idk man i love making you guys suffer <3 stay tuned for part 2 (i am actually out of ideas guys please request me please please ple-)

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fic Idea: A little bit of Home

One day, out of the blue, J'onn J'onzz asks if he could celebrate a Martian holiday. He hadn't before, seeing as the pain of losing his people and his home was too fresh, but he missed the holidays of Mars. He felt that if he didn't try to bring back some of his celebrations, then they, too, would be lost to death.

His teammates were happy to celebrate with him; they were touched by his sharing this part of his culture. J'onn explained that all they had to do was bring a childhood food item to feast on. He explains that on Mars, recipes were passed down for generations, and having the ancestral food of friends and family was the second most crucial part of his holiday.

They are then left stunned when he admits that the feast is traditionally held that same night, but he had been too nervous to mention it beforehand. He allows them to change their minds, but no one dares to.

Heroes pour out of the Watch Tower, racing home to begin cooking, and the Martian is told that as soon as they have something, they will return in time for the meal.

No one mentions the tears gathering on the smiling Martian's face. Nor do they say that his humanoid form falls away to his proper form, a rare occasion to witness.

J'onn then starts decorating the Watch Tower as the Justice League members work on what they will each bring.

He places a lot of shimmering rocks in patterns on the ground. They weave and curl through the hallways as members are careful with no stepping on them. He then has Batman help him find different minerals that change the color of sand used in gorgeous art portraits of each member. (The man was more than capable of sending him information while helping Alfred bake cookies)

It took a bit of flying around the world, but he was able to return to the tower a few hours later with all-natural colored sand. (Thank goodness for the teleportation technology Bruce installed)

By then, a few heroes had returned, each carrying a food or drink container.

Those he forms in the cafeteria where the feast will be held. A crowd of heroes stands around, oohing and ahhing, as J'onn uses his telekinesis to move the sands and create all of them simultaneously, putting on a show.

He is singing hauntingly beautiful songs while hanging colorful drapes around the walls in the last few hours leading up to the feast. No one could understand the words, but everyone agreed that J'onn had an incredible voice.

Clark, arriving with three Kent apple pies, smiles. "He sang that at my house on Christmas Day."

J'onn informed everyone that the event would be formal wear- and everyone showed up dressed to the nines. Heroes who still hid their secret identity- like Batman- had arrived in their costumes, but they had added bowties or some other little accessories to make it formal.

Seeing Nightwing fix the tophat on Batman's head while Red Hood was dressed in a lovely suit, forgoing his usual helmet for a red half mask, was..... enlightening.

A few drinks were served while people walked around admiring the sand painting that J'onn had made. He depicted not only the heroes but also multiple parts of the world, then a section of their best missions, and finally, paintings of good memories they had all shared.

It was like a walkable photoalbum.

Spirits were high as members enjoyed themselves, smiling at the memories and chatting with friends in the few peaceful times of their crazy lives. No one could hold in the gasp when J'onn finished getting ready and arrived at the party. He had painted himself in different shades of blue, beaming in pride at the praise for his cultural markings.

He asked everyone to sit, standing to pray in his native tongue. A few heroes bowed their heads, and others merely sat comfortably, waiting for the Martian to finish.

He picked up his cup, raising it high in the air with his hand

"Friends," J'onn started, voicing, choked up with emotion. "I thank you all for joining me today. It means the world to me that you come here to celebrate the King's Feast. May Phantom watch over you all and freeze all your enemies!"

His cup floats out of his hand, turning to the side so the water can fall out and take the shape of a strange D. J'onn bowes his head, crossing his arms and muttering more prayers.

John Constantine, who had been attempting to sneak bites from the steak and kidney he brought, drops his fork. He stares in absolute shock at the flouting water symbol above the martian before Zatanna slaps him on the shoulder. "Don't be rude!"

He points one shaking finger at the Martian, turning to her with a pale face. "The Martians worship King Phantom!?"

She blinks. "Who's that?"

John moves his jaw, but no words leave his mouth as J'onn finishes his last prayer. He then holds up a plate proudly, explaining what it is and why he chose it to share. He encourages every hero to do the same, so voices fill the air one by one as they present their offering and the memory attached to it.

No one pays much mind to the blond British man desperately drawing wards on the ground using his green-colored chalk. When asked what her husband was doing, Zatanna shrugs helplessly.

Likewise, no one notices some of the plates mysteriously lose some of their contents. The food appears on Earth in the room of a very excited Halfa, who feeds on the foods and the emotions weaved into the meals.

J'onn later claims that this Great One Day felt like King Phantom was slightly closer than usual.

[thecoochiefairy]

mouthy. onyankapon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 blackfem!reader, drabble, onyankapon, grumpy!onyankapon, sweet!onyankapon,dominant!onyankapon, angry sex, drunk sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, riding, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ link. link. link. link.

sorry y’all, i been celibate and just want the testosterone of a black man. i beg.

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ :: you come back from the club, mouthy, tipsy and blabbering to your boyfriend. all that talking has onyakanpon give you just what you’re asking for.

STRAWBERRY FLAVORED MARGARITAS ALWAYS MADE YOU HORNY. You made the terrible decision of making that your choice of drink when agreeing to a girls night out, knowing where you really wanted to be— in bed, cuddled up to your man. But you missed your friends, and Onyankapon missed you even more. 

Although you were always together, his weekend routine felt incomplete without you. He had already gone to the gym, got something to eat, and took Cupcake—your American Bully—out for a run. The minute he left you to walk out the house in that fuschia dress, he knew you’d be trouble. The gold jewelry accents as your dark hair fell in crimped waves, the scent of Miss Dior along your throat that he couldn’t pull away from, skimpy heels combating the entire look together—he would have broken someone’s neck behind you. 

As you stumbled into the women’s bathroom, the dark red lights added onto the energy you felt of the song playing within the club—PHAT by Dababy—buzzing your entire body as you wanted to shake ass with your girls. But first, you had to have a little fun. 

You leaned yourself into the full body mirror of the bathroom, bending down as you arched your back into the camera, taking salacious pictures of yourself. They were faceless, only showing the curves of your body in the dress. You sent them to Onyankapon, a small, tipsy grin along your face. 

mama <3 : 

don’t i look pretty?

He was now within the mirror, clippers in his hand as he faded the sides of his head, beard trimmed down as well. You weren’t there to protest the cut, loving when his facial hair was more full, whether it was in between your fingers or deep in your— 

Back to the point, LARGER THAN LIFE by Brent Faiyaz was his current choice of album. He glances down at his phone as he sees the message, eyebrows furrowing. The sight of you under red lighting, filthily posing for the picture. It made him more irritated than anything. 

my ony <3 :

my pretty ass baby. drink some water.

The message back makes you feel a bit deflated. You wanted more. Your mischievous eyes glance around, seeing you were still alone in the bathroom. With that, you latch your fingers onto the top of your dress, pulling down the fabric to have your breasts spill out, nipples hardening from the air. You snap the picture, holding one of your tits in your palm, your brown lined Cupid’s bow lips also within the photo. You press send, sitting along the countertop of the bathroom, awaiting for a response.

Your phone buzzes after five minutes. You look down, seeing only a couple of words. 

my ony <3: 

yeah, aight. 

You can’t help the grin that spreads along your face. With that, you notice that your phone battery is lower than expected, and you know your friends aren’t ready to go home. You sigh, shutting off your phone in risk of it dying, heading back to the section to try to shake off some of this inebriety. 

Onyankapon goes to text you again, but this time it doesn’t seem to go through. It was in your habit for your phone to die, but tonight wasn’t the time. He even went as far as calling you. Straight to voicemail. Of course, your friends weren’t answering either. His eye could’ve twitched.

Getting your key into the door was your current mission hours later. Your phone was buzzing from the amount of missed phone calls as you turned it back on, a giggle stifling from your lips as you continuously shuffled your keys around, desperately trying to find the oversized Hello Kitty one. Your feet ached, heels high and tall as your ankles trembled, wanting nothing more than to be barefoot. 

When your eyes finally register the pink key—assuming you’d touched it a thousand times—you lean against the door as you swing it open, holding yourself up by the bottom of your feet. They felt extremely heavy. You step inside, slowly pushing the door to close, locking it behind you. The LED lights in your condo were a dark purple, blaring to the low beat of the music playing around the walls, PARTYNEXTDOOR accompanying your ears. He’d probably fallen asleep. 

Despite all the noise you’d been making, you try to tip-toe with your heels, realizing that your mission was successful. That’s until you turn your head towards the kitchen, anyways.

You freeze momentarily in your steps, eyes widening. You knew he’d be angry, but you wanted to make a sneaky escape into bed next to him— Alas, your plan had failed miserably and you turned to face him with an innocent smile.

“Ony, baby—Why are you awake?” 

The room seemed to shrink in size because of his imposing figure. It didn't matter how many tattoos covered his muscular body—you would always remember his face card. Strident jawline, dark eyes that gave him the expression of annoyance or solemnity, but the tattoos that decorated his cheek made him stand out amongst men. His brown complexion shimmered under the light, as if he had oil on his skin. 

He just blinks at you, brows furrowing with obvious irritation. You were supposed to be home at ten. It was now two in the morning. He crosses his arms as you could see a vein straining on his neck, also glancing over the lipstick printed ink of your mouth tatted along his throat.  He was pissed.

“And where the fuck has your ass been?”

His silky black durag has a knot tied within the back of his head, shirtless, upper body exposed as his black sweatpants hang on his hips. He’d just woken up after dozing off.

You pout slightly, not liking his attitude. “The girls wanted to be outside longer. I wasn’t driving, so I couldn't tell them no.”

“The girls know you got a crazy ass nigga at home. You could’ve at least picked up my fuckin’ calls.”

“My phone was in my purse,” you try to defend, now walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Did I wake you?” 

Despite his annoyed demeanor, his arms make their way to your waist. He’s gentle, but you could pick up the way his fingers dug into your skin. 

 “You know I can’t sleep without you.”

“Cupcake likes to cuddle,” you refer to the large dog, “Don’t be mean to her. She loves you just as much as I do,” you rub his beard, scratching it affectionately. 

He grunts lowly, “Gimme’ your mouth,” you standing on your heels as you give him a peck on the lips. 

You then groan, leaning down as you rub your ankle, “My foot hurts,” you pout, “Ugly bitch at the club stepped on my toes!”

He couldn’t help but soften up at your comments, a gentle hand rubbing at the back of your neck soothingly.

“She stepped on your shit on purpose?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“She gon’ say ‘bitch, move’ when she was all in my way. I didn’t move, so she stepped on my heel. Should’ve busted her fuckin’ head open,” you talk shit about the random girl in the club, “Baby, my feet hurt…” you repeat more softly.

“You gonna go back and fight her?” He poked fun, now lifting you up by your thighs to release the tension off your feet. You giggle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, yelping, ‘wee!’ as He carries you to the living room, setting you down on the couch.

“Lemme’ see. I’ll ice your little ass foot.”

“Can you rub it? With the ice? Think they’re red,” you request, carelessly throwing the shoes in opposite directions, feeling the bottom of your feet throbbing even more. 

He hums, “Hollon’, baby,” disappearing into the kitchen as you wait on the couch. Cupcake comes running into the living room, jumping on you immediately. You giggle, hugging her head as she snuggles up against you, having the zoomies as she takes back off into her kennel. 

Ony returned with a bag of ice, leaning down in front of you, placing the ball of your hurting foot in his lap.

“You really couldn’t leave early?” 

You shake your head, “They wanted to hit up the after hours. I said nooo, my man wants me home. They said your man lame, you’ grown! I said, I am! But I miss my man! But ooh, baby, they had lemon drop shots for two dollars! Maybe that’s why I’m so drunk…” you ramble.

He listened attentively to your rambling, tilting his head to the side. He had a small smile on his face, his expression gentle at your drunken blabbering. He loved listening to you talk, even if you were saying nonsense.

“And you bought ‘em? You know you’ a light weight. You can’t handle your liquor, baby.”

“I had water too!” You protest, “But it was too late. I’m not like—super drunk, but because I’m home now, I can just…float,” you say with a hum, tilting your head, “….You’ happy to see me now?”

“Happy as fuck. I was about to go down to that club and shoot that shit up about you. Tryna’ get fucked up in that pretty ass dress, too. I got your pictures.” 

Your slender eyes blink at him, glimmering under the light, “I’m pretty?” You knew the answer, but your floaty mind wanted to hear it anyway. 

“Don’t be playin’ stupid with me.” 

You lean forward, poking your lips out as you sigh, “You’re so sweet. Gimme’ a kiss.” 

He leans forward, placing another soft, slow, kiss on your lips. He pulled back to look at your face, his large hands cupping your jaw, his brown eyes scanning your expression.

“‘Love your non-listening ass. Even when you come home later then I tell you to.”

Your demeanor changes, not liking how he worded that sentence. A reminder, your system was sugar-rushed off of several lemon drops.

“Tell me?” 

You raise an eyebrow, “Tell? Don’t be funny, lil’ boy. You ain’t my damn daddy.”

"Lil’ boy?" 

He raises an eyebrow at you, “You’ talking shit?"

“Big shit, actually,” you roll your eyes, pushing away the ice he holds, “I don’t wanna talk to you no more.”

"Yeah? You don't wanna talk to me? Let your fuckin’ feet hurt then.” 

“That’s fine!” 

He becomes slightly agitated from your childish responses, gripping your ankle in his hold to keep you down, “Chill out. You’re still tipsy.” 

“And? I don’t give a fuck about my feet, you, or my mouth. Come shut me the fuck up then, bitch-ass-nigga.”

It’s like you won’t stop talking. Your mouth fires off curses as you attempt to stand from the sofa, wanting to just get out of your clothes. He hears that trigger word, bitch, a word he asked that you never called him. It was the ultimate disrespect. 

He stares you down for a moment. His gaze was intense, intimidating. But there's now a glint of amusement in his eyes, and a humorless chuckle follows.

You go to walk away, but he’s faster. 

He clutches you by the back of your neck as he twists you around, gripping you up as he kisses you, opening up your mouth as he sloppily puts his tongue in. You’re stunned for a moment, hands gripping for his skin, but it’s the alcohol that has the kiss throb in between your legs—You’re spent. 

He pulls back, his hand still on the back of your neck as he presses a kiss under your jaw, before grunting against your ear, “Big ass fuckin’ mouth,” he sharply gruffs, “Come suck some dick. Finna’ shut you the fuck up.” 

His voice is assertive, deep in your ear. You can’t help but be a little excited—Maybe you’d wanted this type of reaction from him the entire time. You’re kneeling yourself down without having to be guided, tugging for his black sweats, watching as his dick springs from beneath the material. His tip is a dark pink, veins prominent as it slaps along his belly button. Your mouth waters at the sight.

You wrap your fingers around the base, staring up with your dark lashes, cheeks warm and red as you dig your teeth into your lip, “Want my mouth on you, baby?”

Your inner thighs throb again as he lightly smacks your cheek, gripping your jaw open to separate your lips, “You fuckin’ heard me. Don’t play right now.” 

He watches as you take him fully into your mouth, throat humming as you swirl your tongue around his tip, eyes closing as you nod your head back and forth. He reaches back, tangling his fingers through your hair as he guides your movements, dark eyes watching each time you take him deeper.

“Make that shit sloppy as fuck,” he grunts. 

You open your mouth wider at that, eyes dropping low as you nod your head back and forth, tip dragging along the roof of your mouth, sliding deeper in your throat. Your saliva begins to increase, jaw aching each time his balls slap along your bruising lips, yet you moan in pleasure, wanting more—needing more. 

Your eyes are practically stars to him. They glimmer under the lights of the living room, music strumming in his ears as you hollow your cheeks, back arching, ass poking out of your dress as you lean forward to be as close to him as possible. You watch him like a movie, his equally dark baby pink lips halfway open, head falling back as he groans, tightening his fist along your hair. 

“Oh shit,” his low voice moans, “Suck my fuckin’ dick just like that, baby. Need my shit messy.”

He knows how much you like him praising you on, your lips firmly wrapping around his tip, molding your mouth around it as you slovenly suck, the sound echoing along the room. Your jaw burns even more. But the sight of his large hands encapsulating your curls, inked abdomen tightening as he watches your every move, your saliva warm from how hard he’s thrusting in your mouth, it’s like a drug. An addiction. He slows down, holding your hair with both fists, pulling himself out of your mouth as you stick your tongue out, awaiting to catch him again. His tip slaps along your jaw, the giggle leaving your lips captured by your intoxication.

He feels your hot breath on his tip as he looks down at you, seeing your tongue hang out of your mouth, wet and glistening in the dim light. The sight alone sends a jolt straight to his already throbbing dick. 

"You’ finna’ swallow every last drop I got for you." 

His words were firm, almost demanding as he watched you take him back into your mouth. This time, he held onto your head aggressively, fucking your eager mouth at a slow pace, allowing you to savor the taste of him.

You drag saliva along the veins of his dick, pulling your mouth back as you hum, “Feel good, baby?“ 

“Feel good as fuck, baby. Good fuckin’ girl. You’ tryna’ get fucked like a princess,” he grunts back to you, watching as your thumb runs over his tip, rolling your hand in a motion all the way down to the base of his length. 

You circle your tongue back around his tip, sliding your lips around before pulling his length all the way to the back of your throat, the walls of your breath swelling as you gag, melting in his pleasure.

“Gonna nut, baby? Talk to me.” 

"Finna’ nut all in that pretty ass mouth, baby,” he promises to you, and he does, his voice dropping to a low growl as he pushes you further, forcing you to take his entire length between your lips, the inside of your mouth becoming warm. 

When he pulls back, his dick slides out slowly for you to lap up any leftover drops of cum that dribble out. He then tugs on your hair, bringing your face up to meet his. 

You instantly stick your tongue out to show that you swallowed, giggling as you run your tongue against your lips, “Cleaned you up so good.”

You know he’s sensitive. You flick your eyes up as you kiss his tip, the giggles faltering off your lips like nothing as you tipsily moan, “Pretty ass dick, baby.”

“Don’t be fuckin’ greedy.”

He grunts as he pulls you up by your hair, smashing your lips against his in a kiss. You’re encapsulated by his mouth, tongue thrusting in between your lips, the feeling making your eyes roll back, moaning as you open your mouth wider. You loved kissing him. His lips were full, nearly overlapping yours as you made out with him. 

He pulls you back, fingers around your throat as he commands, “Get on the sofa. Spread your legs.” 

Ony’s already on his knees as you bend over the black velvet furniture. You spread your legs as you arch slightly, face hiding within your shoulder, eyes turning back to meet his. He’s trailing kisses along your thighs—it’s torturous at this point. Your pussy throbs as he’s blowing his breath against your core.

 He spanks the skin of your ass as he growls, “Nasty ass.”

He’s already down there, his lips wrapping around your clit, bottom lip dropping lower to rub against the entirety of you, tongue swirling to spread you open. You reach your palms behind, spreading yourself for him, forehead kneeling against the furniture as you breathily whine, “Yeah, baby. Always love when you eat my pussy.”

“Watch that fuckin’ mouth,” he warns in between your flesh.

He’s eating you like desert—Licking you from bottom to top. His hands find their way to your hips, pinning you down to the couch as he shakes his head from side to side, deepening his tongue against your folds. He halts as he comes up, pulling your face towards his as he grips your chin, commanding, “Spit in my fuckin’ mouth,” the moment he says it, your tongue sticking out as you drop saliva in between his lips. He accepts it, going back down as he coats it along your pussy, the feeling making your thighs tremble. He’s rough. And sloppy. Just how you liked it.

Latching back against the sticky walls of your pussy, you become more wet as he French kisses the throb of your clit, head swaying up and down as he flattens his tongue against the overall of you.

He’s lapping you up like a thirsty man. His tongue is thick and heavy against your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. His tongue continues its assault on your pussy, licking you in circles until you start squirming underneath him, desperately trying to hold your mouth.

His hands leave your hips, moving to grip your ass to expose more of your dripping entrance to him. Without warning, he buries his tongue deep inside of you, his lips sealed tight against your wetness as he starts fucking you with his mouth.

“Pussy tight as fuck, baby. Even on my tongue,” he grunts.

“Come fuck me, Ony,” you pout, “I’m so fuckin’ horny,” you almost cry at the pressure between your legs.

He doesn’t talk shit like you expect him to. Instead, he pulls his mouth away from you, your body lightly jumping as you feel his tip sloshing around your opening, patting against it, kissing the outside of your walls. 

“This’ what you want, huh?” 

He brings his hand around the front of you, palm clutching around your throat to pull you up closer to him. You try to nod your head, pushing your hips back to relieve the friction. You thought you were going to faint. 

Your mind is still buzzing. Every inch slowly sinks into you, an ache itching in the depths of your walls, making your hips tremble as you gasp lightly. You push your body forward to escape, which only makes Ony grip you back, rolling his hips forward as he tsks, “Nuh-Uh, don’t do that,” making your eyes flutter shut as you whine, “Ooh, fuck. Daddy.” 

Your whining makes him grunt, spanking you in response to your mouth, sensitivity spiked as you whimper. He smacks his lips, “Cut that shit out. You’ crying for my dick, take all of it.” 

The heaviness of your ass drops against his abdomen, air spurring in between your hips, the suction making you quiver in response.

You turn your head, jaw dropping lightly as you suck in a breath, moving your body to adjust. You lift your hips as you watch yourself, eyes flicking up to meet him as you slide back down, listening to the skin connect, stomach cramping as you shudder out another whine. 

“Gonna take all of it,” you desperately gasp, digging your fingers into the material of the couch, beginning to swirl your hips around as you fuck yourself, walls gushing at your eagerness. Each time you come up, his tip coats with more of your cream, moans progressively losing sense behind them each time your ass claps against his hips.

"Needy ass fuckin’ girl," he grumbles, gripping onto your waist tightly. "I be’ spoiling you too much.” 

His right hand reaches onto the left side of your waist to get a good grip on you, dropping you up and down to watch your bodies move in sync, matching your rhythm as he starts fucking you harder. With every thrust, he slams into you, filling you completely, making you gasp out loud. He leans down, whispering in your ear, "Pussy wet as fuck. You hear my pussy? She’ talking. Just as loud as your fuckin’ mouth.”

You do listen, skin slapping against each others, your pussy squelching and sloshing as he now has a hold along the back of your dress, using that to tug you down, the air secretion igniting loud sounds with it. Your cheeks are red, something that usually happened when you became shy, turning your head back towards the wall as you moaned.

"Don’t be all shy now. Look at me. Need to see your face while you creamin’ on my shit like that.” 

The command is sharp, leaving no room for refusal. He feels you tense under him, your inner walls trembling around his dick. He keeps pounding into you, your juices flowing down his shaft and onto his balls.

When you don't obey immediately, he spanks your ass to make you shriek, hard enough to leave a bruises before demanding again, "Look at me."

You instead kneel your head against the sofa. It’s not long before he becomes impatient, and he pulls you to stand flat on your feet. He keeps your back perfectly arched, rubbing his tip along your folds as he’s already sinking back in, making you lightly groan. He then takes your arms, palms tight around your wrists as he pulls them back and raises them slightly above your body, thrusting his hips forward, skin loudly echoing together as he gives you mean—almost enough to bully you—thrusts. 

The moans you give are shocking, standing on your toes to escape from him, pussy tightening as the back of your thighs sting, friction against his hips, arousal dripping against his balls and abdomen. 

“Agh—fuck—baby, ooohshit. Oohshit, Ony,” you’re rambling to him, unable to move as you’re trapped in this position.

"Shut the fuck up. I ain't wanna hear none of that noise." 

He goes back to pounding you, ignoring your high pitched squeals, the arch of your back deepening as you want to jump out of your skin. 

"Quit fuckin’ running. Take this fuckin’ dick. You’ wanna be grown, be fuckin’ grown, big girl,” he talks, skin harshly meeting with his, his dick painted with your arousal, ignoring the way you messily sob, a darkness in your vision as your eyes are staring into the back of your head. 

“Ooohh, daddy. Ony—baby. Fuckin’ me so good, baby. Fuckin’ love you. Oh my god, love you, babyy.”

“You’ need more? You’ still talking?”

You feel defeated, senseless as he continues to fuck you, uncaring if he’s mean about it.

Yet turn your head, erotically giggling in between your manic episode, unable to stop your mouth from talking.

“This your pussy, Ony. You’ hear her? She missed you so much,” you whimper, wanting him to forgive you from your insults earlier in the night.

“I don’t wanna hear all that."

He picks up the pace, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. You sing to him, gasping and whining pathetically. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room, drowning out everything else. He feels you tighten around him, your walls clenching down on his length.

"You' gonna cum? Or you' just gonna keep talking?"

“Baby…” you softly cry, “Ony, keep talking to me, baby…be nice…” you whimper, missing that side of him. 

You’re sorry for coming home late. You’re sorry for talking shit. You’re just sorry. But this punishment feels all too good.

"You' sorry now?" 

His tone is mocking—he knows he's got you right where he wants you. 

"Keep talking. Mean it.” 

He continues to fuck you mercilessly, his words cutting through the pleasure like a knife.

“Sosorry, baby. Sosorry, Daddy. Fuck me harder. Wanna cum all over your dick. Fuckkk, cum in me. Don’t stop,” your eyes well with tears, digging your teeth into your lip.

He releases your hands, his fingers stretching around your throat as he pulls your back to meet his chest, mouth along your ear as you stand back on your tip-toes, taking everything he gives you.

You messily moan as you lean back against his shoulder, using the strength you have in your hips as you circle your ass around, wanting to match his rhythm, jumping as you feel him spank you again. You were in a lustful haze.

“Look at you’ taking my dick, baby. You love it?”

“I love it,” you whine back, face warm as you take his other hand to put it in front of you, putting it in between your legs as you want him to rub your clit. Sometimes you were bold. Sometimes you weren’t.

You can hear the arrogance in his chuckle along your ear, his fingers rubbing in circles against your clit as he grunts, “Cute ass,” which makes you whimper, putting your head down to hide your warm face.

Your mind falls back into the fuzziness of before, the intimacy of it all making you feel drunk again, your legs feeling numb as he fucks your brains away. You feel yourself wanting to go limp, hooking an arm around yourself to hold his head from behind, his lips latching along your throat. 

You’re whining, “Babby,” gasping in between, warning him, “I’m—I’m gonna cum…”

“You’ think I don’t know when my pussy about to cum? Look how tight you’ getting,” he grunts, spanking you again, your ass probably red by now. 

You can’t stop the orgasm that comes, pathetic moans leaving your lips, your hand shaking as your brokenly whine into his mouth, body wanting to collapse as he grabs for your free hand, trapping it under his that clutches your throat you keep you in place.

You’re stuck in place again, creaming heavily on his dick, gushing and cumming in intense waves, pushing out the arousal as your eyes clutched shut, body trembling to ride out the wave. 

“Ooh, that’s good as fuck, baby,” he grunts, “Cum just like that.”

You seem to sober up the minute your orgasm begins to subside, and your eyes are terribly heavy, just wanting to sleep. You feel a kiss along your neck as your legs come off the ground, being carried as your wrap your arms around his neck. 

“You’ ready to cuddle?” Is all he asks. 

Your eyes peek up despite how tired you are. You ask, “That’s it? Am I ready to cuddle? After you did all that?” 

“Do you need it again?” 

“No.”

“That’s what the fuck I thought,” he kisses your forehead, “Let’s go to sleep.” 

[quin-ns]

Getaway Car (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Word count: 4.7K

Summary: your boyfriend, topper, isn’t making midsummers as fun as you were hoping. lucky for you, rafe is there to fix that

Tags: (18+), cheating, smidge of topper x reader, fingering, car sex, unprotected sex, rafe and reader are messy asf

A/N: kinda old bc I was gonna make it a series but it wasn’t working out so here it is as a stand alone 🫶 it’s been a while and I wanted to post something before the year ends

OBX masterlist + main masterlist

You were beginning to wonder what you were even doing here.

Midsummers was supposed to be the perfect summer event. Everyone got all dressed up to dance with their friends and have a fun night. You were more than ready for a fun night.

The light pink dress flowed down to your ankles and fit your body just right. Your makeup and hair were done nicely, courtesy of your best friend, Sarah. Unfortunately for the both of you, she was sick and couldn’t go this year. You were grateful to her for still helping you out despite her stuffy nose. You even had a date that you knew turned heads. The two of you were the perfect couple on the surface.

The problem with Topper was that he seemed more interested in showing you off than actually just being there with you.

Dating Topper was nothing you had planned. You first got to know him as a friend of friends, but you liked him enough. You couldn’t think of a good reason to say “no” when he asked you out and said he wanted to get to know you better.

Now here you were, holding Topper’s arm as he led you around the party, moving between conversations with his friends.

You didn’t mind so much at first. But when you broke off on your own to try and find some friends of your own, Topper popped up behind you.

“There you are,” he commented, placing himself at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You looked over at him as an arm slid around your waist. In your peripheral you saw the girls you were talking to moving away from the both of you. You forced a smile so as to not make a scene.

“You can talk to your friends, why can’t I talk to mine?” you wondered, raising your brows.

Topper laughed and shook his head. “I never said you couldn’t. When Sarah gets here we can meet up with her.”

His words meant nothing. He was already leading you back where he wanted to go.

“Sarah’s not coming. She’s sick,” you reminded him.

“So she’s not coming?” He sounded disappointed. You shook your head, feeling the same disappointment. “That sucks.”

You ended up standing idly by while he talked to Rafe and Kelce. You knew both of them pretty well, more so Rafe than Kelce. Rafe was Sarah’s brother after all.

You occupied yourself by trying to remember all the words to your favorite song in your head, tuning them out almost entirely.

“What about you, Y/N?” Rafe said, cutting through your second repeat of the song. You blinked, missing the question. “Are you having fun?” he repeated what you assumed he had asked before.

You almost laughed to yourself. There was a slight shift in Rafe’s face. It was like he could tell.

“Yeah, I’m having a blast,” you agreed sarcastically, giving Topper a phony smile—one which he bought.

Rafe smirked.

“Hey, there he is,” Kelce said in a hushed tone to Topper and Rafe, nodding his head past you. You turned and spotted the bar, where two bartenders were trading places. “The taller guy—he’s the one that doesn’t card.”

You must’ve missed that part of the conversation, and you had no interest in it as you turned back. It didn’t surprise you that getting drunk had climbed to the top of their priority list.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling thirsty,” Topper decided.

“Actually, I’m good,” you spoke up when he tried to tug you along. You saw his smile fade when you kept your feet planted. “You go ahead.”

Topper chuckled suddenly, like you were messing with him.

“For real?”

“I’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry,” Rafe said as if you weren’t standing right there. You would’ve been offended if you didn’t see what he was doing.

Topper laughed it off with a, “Thanks, man,” and followed Kelce away to the bar.

He trusted Rafe, so maybe he didn’t think he had to compete for your attention with him like he assumed he had to with your friends.

Rafe eyed you up and down, taking in the way you let yourself relax.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re happy to get away from him,” he said after a moment.

“Oh no, I’m having a blast. Can’t you tell?” you questioned, voice dripping with sarcasm. You caught yourself after a second, reminding yourself that Rafe was basically Topper’s best friend. “Sorry, I’m being mean. It’s not that bad.”

“Be mean all you want,” Rafe replied, stepping closer to stand directly across from you. He leaned like he was telling you a secret. “And don’t apologize for it.”

You narrowed your eyes a little, looking him over as he stood back up straight, trying to decide if he meant it or not. After only a second it was clear he did.

Rafe threw a look over his shoulder to the bar. Topper and Kelce were waiting behind a few others.

“You wanna sit down? They might be a while.”

You nodded, because why the hell not?

Finding an empty table was a bit of a challenge, but the two of you managed eventually. Rafe pulled out your chair for you, and even chuckled at your comment about chivalry not being dead after all.

Instead of crossing around the table to sit down opposite of you, he pulled out the chair right next to yours. He sat in it sideways, so you turned in your seat to face him. Your knees were basically touching, but you didn’t mind.

“So, you here by yourself?” you wondered, just making conversation.

“I’m here with you.”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but not in the same way you had been with Topper most of the night.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Yeah, I am,” Rafe revealed, smirking to himself before adding, “But it’s not like I didn’t have options.”

You raised your brows at his brazenness—not shocked, just amused.

“Because you’re so interesting?” you teased, the corner of your lip tugging up.

“Among other things.”

“Like what?”

You placed your elbow on the table and leaned on your hand, watching him, waiting for his overconfident answer.

He had to have known you were messing with him, maybe even baiting him. You usually did. You always enjoyed the back-and-forths you’d have with him. Rafe gave you a subdued smile.

“Like… I wouldn’t treat my date like an accessory and then ditch her, for one.”

You chuckled in spite of yourself. “Touché.”

“And I know how to have fun,” he added, voice laced with charm. You’d never noticed that before.

You hummed and straightened back. “Well, maybe you should’ve asked me,” you joked.

“Maybe I should’ve,” Rafe drawled. He sounded genuine, which caught you off guard. “You seem bored out of your mind—well, before we started talking,” he pointed out, giving himself an ego boost, slightly changing the topic. “Why even come?”

“Topper wanted to,” you filled in, willing to let it slide for now. “I thought it would be fun, but all the things that would’ve been fun for me got totally ignored.”

“So, what do you want to do?” Rafe wondered. You didn’t remember his blue eyes ever looking this intense, but then again, you didn’t think you’d ever been this close to him.

“Right this very second?”

“Sure.”

You glanced around at the other tables. Everyone was caught up in conversation, having a nice time with their friends and their dates and their families.

“Leave, probably,” you admitted, looking back at Rafe.

He nodded, silently thinking it over.

Finally, he shrugged a little and said, “Okay.”

You started to laugh. “You’re not serious…” you trailed off as he stood, raising his brows, as if to say he was. “What about Topper?”

“What about him?” Rafe asked plainly, like he’d already forgotten all about his friend.

You blinked, then stood. You weren’t exactly sure why he’d been able to convince you so easily.

“Damn the consequences,” you whispered to yourself, although it was easier said than done.

Rafe gave you a subtle smirk, nodded his head to the door. He even held out an arm, which you took with a nervous smile.

It felt strange, being on Rafe’s arm. It was a position you’d never thought you’d be in, nor had you thought about it. Sure, you got along with Rafe pretty well, and he did look handsome tonight (and most days…) but he was always just Sarah’s brother. Then, your boyfriend's best friend.

Now? Now he was your rescuer, saving you from this dull affair that should’ve been an exciting night.

Maybe it still could be.

Rafe was leading the two of you to the door, quietly making comments to you about other partygoers. You laughed at the jokes, unintentionally drawing attention to yourself.

Rafe didn’t seem to mind the way your peers began to look at you, not exactly hiding their staring. It seemed like everyone knew you and Topper were together despite only about a month of dating. You could guess what they were thinking and word traveled fast in the Figure Eight.

It probably should’ve bothered you more than it did, the way a few started to whisper, but you were more concerned with leaving than trying to correct their perception.

“Don’t look, walk faster,” Rafe muttered, leaning down close to you.

You didn’t realize what he was talking about until you disobeyed him and glanced over your shoulder. Sure enough, Topper was making his way around the room. Presumably looking for you.

You snapped your head back forward, trying to make your escape while doing as little damage as possible.

The big entrance door, soon to be an exit, was right ahead.

“Y/N?” Topper’s voice carried across the room, but you kept your head forward, not daring to look. “Hey, over here!”

In the large windows, you saw his reflection vaguely in the distance. He was getting closer to you, weaving through the crowd, waving a hand.

You didn’t want him to stop you. Sure, you could’ve turned and told him to stop and that you were leaving, but that was way more of a scene than you wanted to create. What you did wasn’t exactly any better, but it avoided a verbal altercation in front of everyone you knew.

You broke apart from Rafe to move faster, speed walking the last few feet to the door. It was like he read your mind, jumping out ahead of you to pull the door open.

You hadn’t planned on it, but the two of you were rushing down the stairs of the country club.

“My truck’s up ahead parked on the street. I didn’t want to park in the lot,” Rafe informed when you got to the bottom step.

“Of course you didn’t.”

You spared a glance to one of the large windows and saw Topper looking out it. You snapped your head back, not wanting to make eye contact in case he saw you. You picked up the pace. By a lot. Not figuratively but literally running away.

Rafe easily could’ve out run you, but he chose to stick close when he caught up. You weren’t expecting it when Rafe reached down to grab your hand, making sure you were right by him as the two of you ran for his truck.

You let your shoes fall off your feet as you broke out into a full out sprint. A laugh tore out from you, filling the air around you. You felt so free as the sound of your own joy hit your ears.

You knew people were watching from the patio area, but as you arrived at Rafe’s truck, you hardly noticed.

“This is crazy,” you said to yourself as you reared to a stop. Your lungs were close to burning and your bare feet started to ache, but you were smiling so brightly. “Are we actually doing this?”

“If you get in the truck we are,” Rafe replied smoothly, opening the passenger door for you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but something in the distance cut you off.

“Hey! Y/N!” shouted a familiar voice.

Looking back towards the club, you saw none other than Topper in that beige suit you were starting to find tacky. He was running towards you, even holding one of your shoes. You would’ve laughed again if your heart wasn’t racing.

Your eyes met Rafe’s, finding the same anticipation in them that you felt coursing through your body. The corner of his lip curved up into a smirk, like he knew what you were going to do before you did it.

You climbed into the passenger seat without further hesitation. Rafe shut the door behind you and ran around the front of the truck to the driver’s side.

He fished his keys out of his pocket and jammed them into the ignition. The truck roared to life. Rafe looked over to you with a full grin.

You shared the same expression until you made the mistake of glancing out the passenger window, seeing Topper running towards the truck.

“Go, go, go!” you rushed out, urging Rafe to slam on the gas. You didn’t even know what you were saying.

That’s exactly what he did, speeding the two of you away from the country club until there was only the sound of the truck's engine and heavy breathing.

When the twinkling lights faded far behind you, Rafe eased in the gas. Topper was left in the dust, no way to catch up.

You exchanged a look, studying one another. The panic on your face shifted back to a smile, causing Rafe to do the same.

A victorious laughter left you suddenly, realizing the insanity of the situation. Rafe looked between you and the road, letting out a chuckle. Whether it be for the same reason as you or the way you reacted, you didn’t know. It didn’t really matter.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, finally relaxing back in the seat. “That was so exciting. Why was that so exciting?” Rafe didn’t answer, but it seemed like he at least thought of one as he smirked to himself. “Thank you for the prison break,” you told him, letting your appreciation seep into your teasing words.

“You looked like you needed it, I could tell before we even sat down,” Rafe pointed out. Why did he get that but Topper didn’t? “Besides, that was way more fun than that entire night combined.”

You let out a sigh, trying to not let guilt overcome your adrenaline high. “Topper’s gonna be pissed,” you acknowledged, recalling his face as Rafe sped away.

“So?” Rafe wondered without hesitation.

Your brows curved. Topper was supposed to be his best friend, and he’d just run off with his girlfriend. Or were you his girlfriend that ran off with his best friend? The semantics didn’t really matter in the end, it wasn’t like it meant anything other than the fact that you needed to be anywhere but that party.

You looked out the window, resting your elbow on it and leaning against your fist. You stayed like that for a few minutes, watching the dark shadows of trees and dispersed mansions as they passed by.

“Just in case Topper didn’t tell you, you look beautiful tonight,” Rafe commented out of nowhere, filling the silence.

You gave him a curious look. You couldn’t remember if Rafe had ever said anything like that to you.

His gaze was mostly fixated on the road, but you saw the way his eyes darted to the side, checking on you.

“Thank you,” you said softly, because he was right, Topper hadn’t even mentioned it.

He’d complimented your dress for the way it fit your body and went well with his suit, and he’d been relieved by the way you’d shown up perfectly on time, and even mentioned how Sarah had done your hair, but nothing about you as a whole. Just the bits and pieces.

“For the record, you look very handsome,” you told Rafe, a small smile forming. “And I’m not just saying that ‘cause you said something nice to me.”

He glanced over to you fully this time, a look you couldn’t quite place on his face. Sure, he was smiling, but there was something else in his eyes.

“Well, that’s good to know.”

In the past, you would’ve found admitting that out loud weird since he was Sarah’s brother, but something about being with him now felt different. He wasn’t Sarah’s brother who you were sorta friends with, he was Rafe, the guy who’d gone out of his way to rescue you from a shitty night.

Well, now maybe you could upgrade him from “sorta friend” to just “friend”. He’d earned it, that was for sure.

It was still crazy to you, what you’d just done, even if it was only minutes ago. Something about it all stuck in your head. The rush you got from just talking—okay, maybe even flirting a little—with Rafe was more than you had felt with Topper in weeks. And the great escape added on? You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that exhilarated.

“You just gonna stare at me the rest of the drive?” Rafe teased, eyeing you in his peripheral.

Your cheeks felt warm as you looked away, focusing back out the window instead.

“Where are we even going?” you wondered, ignoring his comment.

“Good point,” Rafe said. “I actually don’t know.”

You weren’t expecting him to pull the truck off to the side of the road. There was nothing around you except for trees and distant street lights on either side. He parked in a gap between houses, making sure to not be in front of anyone’s property. People were weird about that, especially the older ones. Although you guessed a decent amount of them would be at Midsummers anyway.

“Why’d you stop?”

Rafe shrugged in response, eyes taking you in. “Just wanted to be able to look at you. Kinda hard when I’m driving.” He was purposefully trying to make you feel flustered, and it was working. “Figure out where you wanna go and I’ll take you.”

Your first thought was home, but something in the back of your mind urged you to not end the night so soon. You were having fun with Rafe, something you didn’t anticipate. The impulsiveness was still making your heart race.

It only took you a moment to realize it wasn’t just that. Rafe was watching you, and you were watching him. Your lips parted as you took a shallow breath, the air in the truck somehow becoming thicker. His eyes flicked to your lips as you did so, and it wasn’t subtle by any means.

Your own hushed words rang back in your mind.

Consequences be damned.

You weren’t sure who lunged forward first, but in a matter of seconds your lips were attached to Rafe’s.

You weren’t sure of the exact how or why, either, but you wanted to. That was enough for the moment.

Rafe’s hand gripped the back of your neck, holding you to him as he dominated the kiss. All the air seemed to leave your lungs. Your eyes slid shut as you moaned into the kiss.

If someone would have told you even minutes ago that you’d be making out with Rafe Cameron, you wouldn't have believed them.

Now you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Your mind began to make the comparison to Topper, noting Rafe’s neediness for you and the passion of it all, but the other boy faded completely from your mind.

Rafe kissed you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to do and had to make it count. You’d never felt so desirable, and it sent a rush of electricity through your body. When he bit your lip it added an extra jolt.

It was the opposite of graceful, a fumble of limbs and tangled fabric and trying to not part from one another, but you eventually ended up in the backseat.

Rafe was on top of you now, curious hands sliding down your body as he devoured your lips. You made no attempt to stop him. You didn’t want him too. The rush was too strong.

You gasped against his lips when Rafe pushed your dress up around your hips, hands gripping your waist, savoring the feel of your bare skin beneath his palms.

Rafe knelt between your legs, fingers dipping in the waistband of your underwear. They moved further until he was running a finger through your folds. Your face grew warm knowing he could feel how wet you already were.

A low groan rumbled from deep in Rafe’s chest and you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. You were too consumed by lust.

Rafe slid one finger in, stroking it inside slowly before adding another one. You shivered as he thrust and curled his fingers. You lost track of the minutes before he added another one, and you were gasping by the time he pulled them away entirely.

Before you could beg for more he was already abliging you. He gripped the edges of your underwear and ripped the material from you with sheer force, then discarded the remains on the floor of his truck. He could’ve just taken them off, and you both knew that. Maybe he was showing off his strength to fluster you or he really just couldn’t contain himself, but it didn’t matter.

His hands went for his belt next, whipping it off like he was going for speed. Your eyes fell, watching as he unbuttoned his pants.

Your gaze immediately flicked away when he shoved them down.

Were you really gonna do this? Hook up with Rafe Cameron?

You felt Rafe’s eyes on you as he gripped his cock, stroking himself, watching you.

It only took one look back at him to decide yeah, you were.

The smirk that crossed his face was one of pure lust, it was like he could read your mind.

Still, when he situated himself between your legs, lining himself up with your entrance, he asked, “This what you want?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, your body already overheated. “I want it.”

That was all it took for him to push into you. The slow stretch of him took the air from your lungs.

You finally took a breath when he was fully seated inside you. He watched you with hungry eyes, hands running along your thighs, attempting to sooth you and control himself.

Words failed you, but when you adjusted, you gave him a nod.

The first thrust was experimental, testing the waters. When your body reacted, quivering with anticipation, Rafe moved again.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close. He had no choice but to hover on top of you, placing his forearm near your head, but neither of you were exactly mad about it.

The space in the back seat was entirely too cramped. You were completely consumed by his presence. It was perfect.

You moaned into his mouth when he captured your lips for a kiss, the roughness matching the slam of his hips as he found a pace he liked. You were already a mess beneath him, body shivering with each thrust.

“Rafe,” you whispered his name over and over. It was the only thing that you could manage to say.

His lips trailed to your neck and your hand rose to tangle in his hair. His teeth pressed to your skin, threatening to bite. Before he could, you pulled him back. He groaned into your collarbone instead, hips slamming into your ass, cock filling you entirely.

The sound of skin against skin paired with noises of desperation from both of you filled the small space. You wanted nothing else to exist outside of the backseat.

Rafe found your sweet spot in little time and elicited moans from you with every thrust. Your hands went to his back, fingers clutching the fabric of his blazer as your toes curled.

You took everything he gave you, even when the heat and overwhelming pleasure began to smother you.

Rafe could tell when you were getting close and refused to let up, wanting to not only feel but watch you experience bliss all because of him.

You felt exposed beneath his hungry gaze, but in the best way. Like you were the thing of his dreams that finally, finally came true.

Your whole body tensed, nails digging in and cunt clenching down as your orgasm crashed over you. The wave was so intense you thought you might drown in it, but Rafe was there, muttering sweet nothing in your ear, dragging you back to shore.

Before you could come down from your high, Rafe was tipping over the edge. He gave a few more sharp thrusts of his hips before his cock twitched inside you. With a deep moan of your name that made your cunt throb, Rafe let go, filling you.

Your legs tightened around him, holding him there as the two of you heaved for air, riding out the pleasure together.

Finally, Rafe pressed a long kiss to your swollen lips before straightening back up.

You needed a few extra seconds to recover, so you instead watched as he tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt. He ran his hands through his hair and for the most part he was good as new. Aside from your lipstick staining his lips, that is.

You, on the other hand, knew you probably looked like a mess.

Rafe helped you sit up. He straightened out your dress and hummed.

“I know I said it before, but you’re so fucking beautiful,” Rafe praised, eyes drinking you in, and his words left little room for you to doubt him. “You don’t get what you do to me.”

“I think I have some idea,” you mused, cracking a small smile.

Rafe smirked, because how could he argue?

Getting back into the front seat was a little more awkward than falling together into the back in a fit of passion.

You were aware of what was dripping between your legs, and tried to not further the mess. You’d already have to wash your dress, might as well spare his car seats.

“You wanna come back to my place?” Rafe offered as he started the car again.

You could hear in his voice that he hoped you’d say yes, but you didn’t think you could pass by Sarah and pretend you weren’t there for her brother.

Oh god… Sarah.

As you looked to Rafe, you were forced to remember that he was your best friend’s brother. And if that combination wasn’t bad enough, someone else crept into your head—your boyfriend, who you’d totally just cheated on. There wasn’t a nicer way to put it.

Your mouth felt dry as you swallowed. The carefree, relieved attitude you held faded.

“I need to get home,” you decided, voice weaker than it had been before.

Rafe was quiet for a moment before agreeing.

You felt silly, not knowing what to say to him now after all that, but you couldn’t get out of your own head, wondering if you were a terrible person.

Well, more accurately, you couldn’t stop thinking about the answer. You were certain you knew it.

When Rafe stopped outside of your house and put the truck in park, he looked at you with a gaze so intense you were held in place.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N,” Rafe professed, tone steady. He believed it. “I know you know that.”

You almost opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat.

“Goodnight, Rafe,” you said instead, climbing out of the truck.

As you crossed across the front, you heard the light buzz of his window rolling down.

“I’ll see you soon, alright?” Rafe called, prolonging the goodbye. “I had fun,” he added, and your footsteps faltered. “And I don’t regret a thing.”

Rafe stayed until you got to your front door, found the key under the mat, and slipped inside.

Only when the door shut did the truck pull away. You may or may not have watched out the window, his parting words replaying in your mind.

As guilty as you felt, you didn’t either, and that might’ve been the worst part.

[starkeynation]

Is it casual now?

Content : angst, a bit similar to the scene where Sofia overheard Rafe saying she’s not his girlfriend, inspired by the song Casual by Chappell Roan (may or may not be accurate)

a/n : sorry in advanced i know Chappell is for the girlies also idk if im proud of this but your likes and reblogs will always be appreciated🤍

Masterlist

── ⋆⋅˚ʚ♡ɞ˚⋅⋆ ──

It has been exactly 4 months since you met Rafe Cameron, the kook king you never knew you would fall so deeply for. The first time you met him, you were nothing but a blur in his world. A passing figure and a random pogue that was at his party. But Rafe, you saw something in him the moment you met his sparkling blue eyes. You couldn’t exactly tell what it was. Maybe it’s the fact that he looks so handsome even under bad lights, or the way you could listen to him forever every time he speaks. At that moment, you were ready to risk it all.

You made your move that night. The way you charmed him may have made him realize you both were something more than strangers passing through each other’s lives and ever since then, you were both inseparable. Although he said “No attachment,” the first time you both hooked up, you still went along with it, hoping it could be real one day.

Sometimes when you’re hanging out with your friends outside, you would hear some rumors saying you’re just a girl that Rafe bangs on his couch. The pogues call you a loser for still hanging around him but you ignore them and the rumors because most of the time he treats you as if you were someone he couldn’t lose. Just two weeks after knowing each other, he invites you to dinner with his whole family. The way he fucks you in the bathroom while his parents are still at the table, the way he brings you to the country club and shows you off, the way he’s eating you out in the passenger seat, and mostly the way he talks to you, so gently and sweet that got you thinking maybe this isn’t just some dumb love.

You’re at the pub where you agreed to meet Rafe. The sky on the way there was already turning a heavy blue slate, signaling that rain was on the way. You enter the pub and recognize Rafe’s back immediately standing on the other end accompanied by Topper and his foul girlfriend Ruthie. As you are about to approach them, you hear his voice, “She’s not my girlfriend okay, it’s just…casual. No strings attached.”

You freeze. The words land like ice in your chest, sharp and cold. If that isn’t enough you then hear Ruthie say, “You sure about that Rafe? How do your parents feel that you’re living with a pogue,” she smirks, her eyes gleaming with sarcasm.

“I’m not fucking living with a pogue okay,” he says annoyingly.

You have to steady yourself. You could feel your stomach churn as you’re processing what you’re hearing. You can’t believe it. You both never had a “talk” about being exclusive, but you thought you were starting to matter to him and close to making it official.

You hide behind a column in the middle of the pub, trying to decide what to do. Part of you wants to walk away, leave without saying a word, and let him figure out what he’d lost. But you couldn’t just let it go. So you make your way to the table, keeping a neutral face, and try to hold back your tears.

“Hey, there you are,” Rafe smiles, as you approach him.

“Hey,” you say, your voice steady, though it takes everything you have to keep it from shaking. “We need to talk.” Before he could say anything, you grab his hand taking him outside the pub. As you stand outside, it’s already drizzling.

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Can't we talk inside? It’s raining,” he asks, his voice full of confusion.

You let go of his hand and go silent for a moment. He looks at your face that is now about to cry, “Baby what’s wrong?” he says.

“Don’t call me that if you don’t mean it Rafe,” you mutter.

He blinks. “What are you talking about?”

“I heard you,” your voice loud now. “Telling them we’re not dating? No strings attached? Seriously Rafe? After these past few months? Is it casual now?”

Rafe’s face shifts, the unease creeping into his features. He clears his throat, trying to smooth over the tension. “Look, I thought we’re on the same page here-“

“Same page? What same page are we talking about?” You cut him off. “I thought you were starting to look at me differently now Rafe.” You fluster. “Oh and not to mention calling me a pogue? I thought we’re WAY past that..”

He sighs, scratching the back of his head. “Ok about that I'm sorry kay’. I didn’t mean to call you a pogue just, you know…Topper and Ruthie, they caught me off guard. And you never really talked about anything more serious, so I figured we’re just not together.”

You could feel the heat rising in your chest. “I never talked about it? Oh so now I’m the one to blame? Are you serious?” Your eyes narrow.

He pauses, trying to find the right thing to say. “I just…I’m happy with the way we are right now. I’m not-“

“Not what? Not ready to be in a relationship? That’s bullshit.” You cut him off again, not wanting to hear any excuses. “How can you stand there and say you’re okay with this? After all the plans we made, the endless nights we spent?” you continue, meeting his gaze that looks unbothered. “You know what…I can’t…yes, I tried to be the chill girl who holds her tongue and gives you space but not anymore. No, I’m done,” you say, trying to walk away.

The rain is getting heavier now, and both of you are soaking wet. “Wait,” he calls out your name. “Just wait okay…I’m sorry I hurt you, yes I would be lying if I said this doesn’t mean something but just give me time okay, I just…I can't do relationships right now,” he says, grabbing your wrist trying to stop you.

“No Rafe,” you shake your head, a tear runs down to your cheek. “I’m done waiting. It’s hard Rafe…It’s hard being casual when my favourite bra lives in your dresser and it’s definitely not casual when I’m always on the phone talking to Wheezie like I’m her sister,” you swallow, biting your inner cheek trying to keep your emotion in check.

He gives a small dismissive wave, like I’m overthinking things. “Well I did warn you no attachment, y/n,” he says, with such cold detachment, as if his words are nothing more than a simple fact, devoid of any emotion.

You look at him with disappointment crawling up to your throat. He isn’t even trying to make it work, not even pretending to care about how you feel. You hate the fact what he said is true, he did warn you not to get attached and you hate yourself even more for dragging this on for so long. You stare at him for a moment longer, “Fuck you, Rafe,” then you turn and walk away to your car. There is no use in arguing with someone who has no intention of changing their mind. If this is how Rafe sees you, then he is not the guy you think he is.

Maybe he is okay with keeping things casual but you deserve more than that. Rafe Cameron can go to hell.

[celesterayel]

the it couple | luke castellan

request: I’m not really sure what qualifies as a request but could you write a Luke x reader where they are like the camp it couple? 🫶🫶

summary: common knowledge is how irrevocably in love luke castellan is with you.

"you know i adore you, i'm crazier for you than i was at sixteen lost in a film scene" - t.s.

w.c. : 702

warning(s) : none

pairing : luke castellan x reader

the campers of camp half blood don't quite remember how or when it had happened. It just always was: you and Luke Castellan, that is. where you went, he followed. the shadow to your guide and you the balm to his sorrow. annabeth used to whisper to the younger children–the ones who had been taken to camp far too young and therefore had little knowledge of love–that you and Luke Castellan were soulmates: seamlessly bound to one another. 

you yourself had never believed in fate despite the fact that you had met them–old bitter hags. you preferred to believe that life was not set in stone, unbreaking and withered to a timeline. it perhaps led to your brash attitude and ‘ride or die’ mentality but your mannerisms only made luke castellan fall in love with you all the more. some things were just beyond the gods' control. you and luke were one of those things.

you had first arrived at camp a decade ago, where you were then claimed by hades. of course news of you spread like wildfire: you were gorgeous, your talent with your bo staff was unmatched, and your father was one of the three–strong power ran through your blood and you showed it everyday during training. but that wasn’t exactly what caught the attention of everyone, rather the fact that the popular gaze of a certain brown-eyed boy always strayed to you. when you laughed, he smiled. where you went, he strayed. you were magnet and he was never far away.

you both tipped toed around one another, constantly drifting toward the other. playful banter slipped between you two and those around you wondered when you would finally just get together. the first time you guys finally breached the delicate line between more than ‘obviously pining friends’ was after an exciting rivalry game.

despite the strategic planning of annabeth–who clearly eyed the tension between the two of you–and the excellent swordsmanship, house ares had won the game because of you. You had been the one to distract luke castellan after clarisse had forced you to use your charms. it was fun to see the cute blush adorn his cheeks when you approached the head of the Hermes House.

“so, does this mean you agree to go out with me?” he breathed out, hands twirling his sword as he was once again bested by you in capturing the flag.

you laughed out, “i was just waiting for you to ask, castellan.”

no sooner after you had begun dating did the infamy of you two reach an all high around camp. how could it not? 

you two were the all anyone could talk about–the best of the best.

luke castellan was already the best swordsman at camp; a prodigy in the making. his brown curls and dimples only made him more popular among the girls and young teens. he was one of the highest placed leaders around camp; one of the few that clarisse actually respected and the one that annabeth regarded most. 

you were a gem in the rough: bold and brash at times, but calculating and quick-witted. you were the one to turn to when those around camp felt alone, always ready to take care of others and offer words of wisdom. you were a living definition of rules being broken and your power only highlighted the height of your placement around camp. 

when you two walked by, the eyes of the others strayed. newcomers learned of your names before they learned what exactly camp half blood was. 

when you threw your head back and laughed, people watched as Luke curled his lips in pride at being the one behind your laughter. when he sat round the fire and sang songs with the campers, you sat right beside him; head laying on his shoulder and hoping the moment would never end. he willingly allowed himself to lose camp games if only by your hand, time and time again.

yes, you were the it couple of camp half blood but none of that mattered, when he was the one for you.

[katsu28]

home is wherever you are

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)

warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol

a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH

“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.” 

Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was. 

“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips. 

“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.” 

You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most. 

There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch. 

But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room. 

Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing. 

He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing. 

It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench. 

Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise. 

But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you. 

You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal. 

The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.

“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms. 

Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own. 

But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor. 

He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.” 

“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.” 

“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.” 

“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.” 

“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?” 

“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled. 

Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.” 

Oh, if only he knew. 

You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.” 

Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.

“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.” 

Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on. 

Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out. 

He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word. 

“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?” 

“You’re really going to be gone.”

“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him. 

“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.” 

That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits. 

 “What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression. 

“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they���ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—” 

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking. 

You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?” 

“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.” 

“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms. 

“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.” 

“Yeah, I am pretty great.” 

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.” 

“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.” 

Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.” 

“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional. 

“Is that a promise?” 

“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.” 

It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could. 

You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night. 

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined. 

You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch. 

He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.  

The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that. 

Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something. 

The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room. 

It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine. 

But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time. 

You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano. 

Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in. 

Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world. 

You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead. 

It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now. 

Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring. 

“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly. 

“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?” 

“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.” 

Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.” 

“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?” 

This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep. 

You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh. 

There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell. 

It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course. 

Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more. 

Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?” 

“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask. 

You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable. 

“Any requests from the audience?” 

“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow. 

“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”

“Anything you play is perfect.”

“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”  

He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker. 

It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa. 

Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine. 

Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own. 

Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him. 

God, why were you even thinking of those things? 

It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend. 

Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know. 

Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop. 

Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him. 

-------

Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him. 

“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.

Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place. 

The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice. 

You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up. 

It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something. 

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow. 

Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.” 

“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.” 

“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.” 

You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.” 

“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”

“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—” 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?” 

“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.” 

“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.

Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him. 

That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles. 

His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.” 

You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—” 

“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.” 

But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all. 

You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.” 

His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign. 

That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”

“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.” 

“Did I—did I do something wrong?”

You almost faltered. Almost.

“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?” 

“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?” 

“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.” 

“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you. 

“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly. 

“Then why did you?” 

“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.” 

“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t. 

“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone. 

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.” 

Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued. 

“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”

There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had. 

Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.” 

“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.” 

“It is, if he feels the same way about you.” 

A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head. 

“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.

Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?” 

You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.

He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you. 

Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.

“Do you believe me now?” 

“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).

“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.” 

“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them. 

This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.

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[freshloveee]

juno - chris sturniolo

notes - chris getting arrested during juno at your show 😋 + this doesn't take place in my singer!reader au but if u want one that does lmk! credits to @chris-hallelujah and @delilahsturniolo for letting me make this ! go give them a follow and check out their work because their AMAZING

the lights dim in the stadium as you finish playing one of your songs, dumb and poetic. you softly smile as you look out into the crowd. "why hello L.A!" you say into the mic with a slight giggle. chris, nick, and madison all cheer along with the plethora of people in the crowd. chris was still confused on how he got dragged to your show but somehow, he was here.

it was now time for the intro to your song, juno. you searched the crowd for the "hottest" person in the crowd. you gasp softly for dramatics as you point into the vip section. "ladies! get over here!" you called for your backup dancers as nick and madison try to figure out if your pointing at their section.

"you see that guy over there?" you question as you point directly at chris. "which one?" they ask in unison. "that one" you say dreamily as you gesture towards chris. chris looks up from his phone and his jaw drops slightly as he sees his face on the big screens decorating the sold out arena. nick and madison instantly start freaking out but chris finds himself mesmirized by you.

"what's your name, baby?" you ask with a flirtatious tone. "c-chris!" he shouts. "chris baby..i fear your under arrest for being way too hot!" you hold back a slight giggle as the red and blue lights flash around with a siren sound filling the air. "here cutie" you say as you hand the fuzzy pink handcuffs into his hands gently. "t-thanks" he mumbled as he fiddles with the handcuffs. "your welcome." you smile softly at him as you stand back up.

"oh no! chris over here is just way too hot m-my clothes are falling off for him!" you yelp jokingly as your dress reveals your sparkly, baby pink outfit. nick jokingly presses chris's jaw back up since he was staring at you in awe. madison giggles but then looks back up at the stage as you begin to perform.

it was now time for the part that most people were anticipating. the juno pose. you imitated a sex position every show and changed it everytime. "you make me wanna make you fall in love" you sing as you gesture to chris and he is still in shock. "oh late at night im thinkin' bout' you ohhhh, wanna try out some freaky postions?" you sing as you scurry over to the end of the stage. "hey chris, have you ever tried this one?" you say seductively as you smile directly at him. he tries to form one but it comes out as a lopsided grin.

after the show nick, madison, and chris were all chatting about well...everything. "im still in shock not gonna lie" chris admits with a breathy laugh. "me too" madison agrees with a slight nod. "out of all people though you?-" nick was cut off as a security guard comes out. they all tense up but before they can question him he beats him to it. "hey...uh-chris right?" the strong man asks. chris nods, confusion written all over his face. "y/n wants to see you come follow me" he waves him over, all of their jaws drop but chris recollects right away before following him into your dressing room.

they soon enter and you look up from your vanity. "oh, hi chris" you smile sweetly at him. "sup" he says nervously as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "here come get comfy" you say as you adjust the pillows on the fuzzy white couch for him. "t-thanks" he smiles. "how are you, you looked pretty miserable out there." you giggle. "nah," he laughs softly,

"i just got dragged along by my brother and his friend but im glad i came." he smiles softly. "i recognized you from tiktok to be honest." you make your way over to sit next to him. you giggle slightly as he nearly spits out his water. "your a triplet right?" he is way too stunned to even speak so he just nods. you two end up chatting and around 20 minutes later nick and madison come in as well, you two hang out and sadly part ways but hey, chris got a follow back so he was satisfied. he told matt everything the second he got home.

-the next day-

nick gasps as he runs into chris's room where him and matt are playing fortnite. "both of you check your fucking instagrams!" he shouts excitedly. "what bro" chris asks annoyed as he removes his headset so it rests softly against his neck as he opens his phone.

y/n./n

♫ juno · y/n l/n

y/n.l/n - spoiler alert: @christophersturniolo ended up trying this one

liked by larray and 2M others

view all 999,668K comments

christophersturniolo ur fucking insane

↳ y/n.l/n you like it though

matthewsturniolo BRO ????

nicolassturniolo I-

quenblackwell #thatshouldbeme

↳ y/n.l/n #hmu 🫦

tyummyz oh.my.god.

xoxo4chrisss never speak to me again this is INSANE

thenickgirl DOES CHRIS EVEN REALIZE HOW BIG Y/N IS LIKE HES STANDING NEXT TO ONE OF THE BIGGEST POP GIRLIES RN

↳ nicolassturniolo IVE BEEN TRYING TO TELL HIM THIS

a/n - hope u enjoyed !! :))))

tags/users featured - @tyummyz @xoxo4chrisss @thenickgirl

[dreamcubed]

i think he knows | theodore nott x reader

song; i think he knows [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

masterlist

"wanna see what's under that attitude."

—————————————

Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.

The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.

"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.

"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.

"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"

You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."

"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."

You sighed, unable to argue.

"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."

That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.

"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.

"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."

You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."

"It's not that hard."

"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."

"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."

"Whatever you say."

Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.

***

It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.

Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.

Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.

"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.

You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.

You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."

His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.

Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.

Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?

***

The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.

Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.

It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.

A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"

You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.

"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."

"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."

"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."

"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.

"I mean, maybe he likes you back."

"What?"

"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."

"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"

Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."

Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"

"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."

"Easy for you to say."

***

You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.

"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.

"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."

You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.

"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.

"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.

He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.

You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?

"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.

You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?

It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.

Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.

What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.

This might not end well.

***

You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.

"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."

You had a feeling you knew what was coming.

"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"

"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."

"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"

Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.

"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."

Your breath hitched.

You used coconut shampoo.

Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.

"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"

You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.

You felt warm underneath his gaze.

He smirked.

***

You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.

The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.

"You aren't subtle."

A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."

He shrugged, "It's cute."

Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.

"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.

"No. Just quiet."

You clutched your books close to your chest.

"You're shy," he added.

You nodded.

He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.

"Hogsmeade," he said.

You hummed in surprise.

"This weekend. Me, you."

Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.

But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.

***

"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.

"I don't even know if it's a date."

"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."

You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."

"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."

You gave your best friend a small smile.

"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"

***

You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.

How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.

He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.

Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.

At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.

"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"

You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.

"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.

He shrugged.

It was frustrating.

You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."

He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.

"Nott?"

He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.

"Theo- what are you doing?"

Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.

You hummed in agreement.

"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."

Your breath hitched, "Really?"

"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."

You felt your ears heat up.

"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."

A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.

"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."

You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.

"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."

"Horrifying?"

"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."

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masterlist

written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023 published;17/08/2023 edited; —/—/——

[itsthecline]

WHERE’D ALL THE TIME GO?

CHAPTER ONE

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ new summer , new camp , new people. you were beyond ready to take on the next few months , but you had to get through your first day before that comes.

word count 7.7k

warnings profanity , mentions of underage drinking , sexual innuendos , mentions of a cult.

CAMP JESSAMINE was going to be your permanent summer camp , you decided. just the drive to get to the campground was a perfect time. your best friend , taylor , was with you— with some persuasion , and the weather was perfect. the windows to your car were rolled down , stereo to the highest volume as it pumped out the tune of your favorite songs.

you and taylor were the type of people that listened to very specific songs that would only ever make the best coming of age movie soundtrack. it was something very special to the two of you ; romanticizing your lives through music.

as you turned onto the driveway before the parking lot in front of the administration building , two weeks by grizzly bear was playing. taylor reached over , twisting the volume knob to lower it as she took in your surroundings.

“this looks much better than skyline ridge did,” she pointed out , leaning out the open window just a bit.

you laughed at the welcomed diss on your old camp. “i don’t think that’s a tough standard to beat , but i do agree. this is a lot nicer,” you replied , rolling to a stop in the gravel lot. there were several cars already parked— some of the staff showing up to help orientation along.

the radio cut silent as you killed the engine before you reached over and grabbed your tote bag. “we need id’s and..?��� taylor trailed off , looking through her own bag.

“just our id,” you reassured her, “lets go check in.”

you both clambered out of your car , not having stood on two feet for several hours. your heart was pounding as you made your way to the front door. it was decorated with a banner above shouting, ‘welcome to camp j!’

with one hand clutching taylor’s , you push the door open and step inside. there’s a line of tables with staff members behind them , helping some new staff members sign in and get instructed on where they’d be bunking for the summer. you were silently praying that taylor and you would be close to each other if not paired up.

“hello! welcome on in , guys!” it was a blonde girl , probably your age , waving you two over. her hair was the perfect amount of curled and flowy for it to look naturally effortless , and her smile was practically blinding you as you walked her way. she looked like the human embodiment of sunshine. “hi , what are your names?”

“y/n,” you answered before clarifying, “y/l/n.”

the blonde didn’t even need to look down at the clipboard in her hands before letting out an excited squeal. “ah! you’re my newbie!”

taylor laughed for a moment before covering her lips with a hand. “and me? taylor mcmahon?”

“ooh , you’re with cleo,” sarah— if she was wearing the proper name badge, answered with a smile, “she’s one of my best friends. our cabins are actually pretty close to each other , too. she’s probably in the dining hall right now getting our dinner set up for tonight , but i’m sure you’ll meet her soon. actually , i’m almost done for my shift of signing people in , so if you wanted i could bring you guys around. introduce you to cleo and kiara. she’s another one of my friends who works here.”

while sarah talked and got papers ready , you could feel a good summer coming in your veins. you and taylor were paired up with two best friends and wouldn’t be staying that far a part , and the girl you were paired with seemed plenty nice.

“i think we’d love that,” you smiled back , picking up a pen and filling out the small sheet handed to you. meanwhile , taylor’s eyes were elsewhere.

“who is that?” without looking up , you know she found a boy to ogle from across the room, “and can he be my newbie?”

sarah chuckled for only a moment before she cut herself off. “oh,” she spoke , eyes landing on katherine’s latest find. “that’s—“ you didn’t really listen to who it was , focusing on your form to get it out of the way as fast as possible.

any allergies? no. any food allergies? no. any health conditions that require medication? no. favorite color? green. favorite drink? probably coffee? you finished filling the blanks before slipping the branded pen into your pocket.

“here you go,” you cleared your throat , handing sarah the slip of paper before picking up your bag from the floor, “anything you need to give me?”

sarah grinned , noticing you wouldn’t be a newbie newbie , just someone who hadn’t been to camp jessamine before. “just your name badge , some t-shirts , the cabin key , itinerary , and list of campers!” it was all handed to you in a packet , badge and lanyard laying on the top of it, “let me grab taylor’s and we’ll head over to the cabins.”

taylor took her own packet and lanyard , slipping the blue loop over her neck with a smile. “you know what , y/n/n? i think you were right : this will be a good summer.” her eyes were still trained on the guy at another set of tables.

looking at him now , you could actually scan over him. camp jessamine t-shirt a half size too small , making his arms budge out of the sleeves just a bit ; buzzed hair ; beyond tall ; perfectly tan skin. “you can have ‘im , babe,” taylor started, “i’ll take his friend.”

your eyes shifted ever slightly to the right , taking in the dark skinned boy that just entered the building , immediately going to his friend and dapping him up. “i don’t date guys from camp , tay. that’s like rule number one.”

“you guys ready?” sarah’s voice cut through your conversation.

“let’s go!” taylor beamed , hooking her arm in yours.

leading you back outside through a different door , sarah began her tour. “so we were just in admin , and that is the gymnasium,” she pointed across the way at another bigger building. it had an outside court as well , giving away its title. “over here is the dining hall , so we’ll stop in for cleo.”

she was smiling the whole time , as if this was some paradise , and you couldn’t help but hope that’ll be you next year. “how long have you been a counselor here?” you wondered , looking all around you all while following sarah through the grass.

“forever,” she simply answered, “i think my first actual memory is from this camp. i went every summer growing up ; a lot of us did. the next move was to obviously start working here,” she continued to explain , slowing her pace just a little for you two to keep up. her eyes noticed how you and taylor were trying to take everything in. “and here we are!”

ever the welcoming committee , sarah opened the door and let you walk through. “sare , who you got with you today?” a boy spoke up , heading your way. she quickly kissed him on the lips before ‘presenting’ you and taylor to the few others in the dining hall.

“y/n , taylor , this is john b , cleo , kiara , and pope,” she introduced everyone , pointing at each of her friends, “guys , this is y/n and taylor. y/n is my bunk buddy , and cleo you get taylor!”

“alright , come here , girl! let me check you out,” cleo hyped taylor up before pulling her in for a hug, “i’m not the newbie anymore , y’all.” the last bit was directed to her friends.

you all laughed at her words , knowing almost all of you had felt that feeling before. “were y’all headed to the cabins?” pope had asked , breaking up the chuckles.

“yeah,” you nodded, “sarah wanted to stop and grab cleo before we settle in.” as you answered , your eyes took in the group , sizing them up in a way to get your read on them.

“yo! new chicks just came in and they are hot! saw ‘em with sarah getting—“ two swing doors opened , a guy walking backward through them with boxes in his arms. when he turned and saw the three extra people in the room , he quickly shut up. “hi there! uh— there’s actually like , i don’t know , four other sarah’s who work here,” he lied , stumbling over his words as everyone laughed.

“right , okay. well , that’s jj,” sarah groaned , clearly unimpressed despite her giggles, “j , this is y/n , my roommate. and this is taylor , cleo’s roommate.”

the blonde swiftly flipped his hat to be facing backwards after putting the boxes down on a table. “nice to meet you , ladies,” he smirked , reaching his hands out crisscrossed for you to both shake. being polite , you both meet his hands , shaking them with smiles.

“nice to meet you , jj,” taylor smiled , catching the fact that he was perfectly your type ; catching that fact that you were blissfully aware that he was perfectly your type.

“hi,” you managed to speak , cheeks flushing bright and ears getting hot, “well , we gotta go— gotta go get , um , unpacked,” you stuttered , pointing to the door and stepping away, “sarah?”

your new friend was grinning ear to ear watching you drown , but she quickly came to your rescue. “see you guys later,” she chuckled , coming and grabbing your shoulders before pulling you away. she led you out the front door and to one of the several golf carts. “so that was something.” sarah couldn’t help herself but laugh a little when you were alone.

“i’m going to kill myself if i talk like that all summer,” you joined in on making fun of yourself, “is everyone that volunteers here that hot?” you questioned , thinking back to the guy you saw signing people in.

“yeah , that’s a perk for sure. something in the water on the cut made those pogues fine,” sarah agreed , turning the golf cart on whenever you threw your bags down in the back.

“okay , first of all : what’s the cut? and secondly , what’s a pogue?” you asked , turning in the seat as sarah took off in the direction of your cabin. neither one of those words seemed too endearing.

sarah looked back at you and took a deep breath. “well , we’re all from this island : kildare. on said island , there’s the nice neighborhood which we call figure eight. then there’s the not so nice neighborhood which we call the cut,” she explained as you listened intently, “all of them are from the cut , sparing kie. she’s a born kook.”

“so if you’re from the cut , you’re a pogue , and if you’re from figure eight , you’re a kook?” you recalled , still not entirely understanding the classist labels.

“it’s dumb , but yeah,” sarah nodded simply.

you took the answer for what it was and focused ahead of you. you could see the cabins now. they were set in five half circles , three cabins in a group. in front of them was a fairly large fire pit with handfuls of chairs littered around the area.

“which one are we in?” you questioned as sarah slowed to a stop.

“we’re in cabin number six! cleo and taylor are going to be in four , and kie is in five,” sarah answered , grabbing one of your bags to help you inside.

“these are nice,” you gaped , stepping into the cabin. there were six bunk beds , three on either side of the building. a bathroom in the back , and another door next to it.

“our room is back here,” sarah announced , moving through the cabin towards the last door, “ta-da!”

you set your bags down at the end of the bed that was still available and looked around. sarah had set up her side of the room already , fairy lights across the ceiling , posters on the wall , and her bed all done up.

“okay , these are really , really nice , dude,” you echoed yourself , amazed at how much more money is clearly put into this camp than your last.

sarah waved you off, “eh , it’s whatever,” she laughed, “just kidding. it’s actually insane how fancy this camp is. even i can admit it.”

“my last camp was an actual dumpster fire compared to this,” you admitted , starting to unravel your bedding to make the room seem homier, “packed cabins , shitty food , bunch of old people for camp counselors. jessamine is an upgrade.” sarah sat down on her bed and listened to you with a smile. she liked you already , that wasn’t hard. “and you all seem actually nice too. that’s another perk on top of how hot you guys are,” you continued with a laugh.

jj. you hated you were still thinking about him. that’s not how you ever want your summers to be. summer flings were not on your list of things to do in your twenties. you wanted to completely focus on yourself and getting to where you wanted to be in life. no blonde surfer boy was going to change that.

“so… you’re still picturing jj in that pretty , little head of yours,” sarah read your mind , holding back a cheesy grin when you turned to her.

“i don’t date boys from summer camp,” you simply said , going back to making your bed. the two of you stayed in silence until you had finished setting up your bed and unpacking. you fell into the mattress with a sigh.

sarah’s position on her bed matched yours , completely sprawled out and exhausted. “i feel like this is the first time i’ve gotten to just chill in like a week,” she huffed , staring up at the ceiling.

“yeah , me too,” you agreed, “me and taylor were on a road trip just before we came here , so i’ve been cramped in my jeep for way too long.”

“wait— how old are you?” sarah questioned , sitting up on her elbows to look over at you.

“nineteen. almost twenty,” you answered , copying her actions, “you?”

“twenty…” she replied with a smile, “which means i’m no longer the baby of the group , so thank you for that.”

“it’s okay. i’m used to it,” you mused, “youngest daughter of six. taylor is older than me , and most of the friends i’ve ever made have been too. nothing new to me.”

it was true ; you were quite used to being the ‘baby’ of whatever group you were around. you grew up that way. as much as you hated it , you did get away with a lot more. such as doing what you’re currently doing. your dad was pissed when he got the email you sent him one morning. it was the day you officially packed all of your things and left home. he had decided you were to be a doctor— what kind? he didn’t care , but a doctor nonetheless. you , however , wanted to travel and experience everything you possibly could while snapping pictures and showing the rest of the world. not exactly an easy thing to come to a compromise on.

that was two years ago.

“well , i hated it. the guys would make fun of me all of the time,” sarah laughed now , it not being as sore of a spot for her, “but that makes taylor… twenty?”

“—one,” you finished for her, “she’s like my best friend and big sister all in one.”

“don’t you already have five of those?” sarah recalled , furrowing her perfectly groomed eyebrows.

you looked away for a moment , fairy lights catching your eyes again. “technically , but i don’t really think blood is what makes family,” you shrugged , pushing yourself to sit up entirely, “show me around some more?” it was an obvious attempt at changing the subject , but it worked.

“wanna see the ponies?”

AFTER ABOUT two hours of sarah showing you around the camp grounds , you found yourself back in your cabin. it was nearly three , so you still had some to yourself before the counselors’ meeting started up before dinner.

you hadn’t seen taylor since you split up at the dining hall , so you were by yourself since sarah had to help with some administrative duties. with your free time , you made the decision to start setting out the things you brought for the girls you’d be mentoring for the summer.

daisy.

amber.

noah.

celeste.

miranda.

kylie.

the first thing on the list was making the covers for their journals. you had pressed three-d stickers on the front , spelling out all of their names. you set the books down on the dressers , pairing each with a disposable camera and pack of pens.

in the bathroom , you had set up a box of essentials. twelve teenage girls in one cabin? it was needed. you hung up a cuter shower curtain , laid down a better floor mat. you were happy with the way everything looked so far , so you moved back into the living area. you set out the mini projector you brought , coloring books and markers , card and board games , bracelet making kits. you were just making the cabin more lived in with plenty of things to do.

you had your headphones in , listening to your own music while you got everything set up. lost in your own world.

“excuse me!”

you jumped , hand clutching your chest as someone pulled one of your headphones from your ear. “holy shit! wow! sorry,” you breathed out , turning to face the person who disrupted your jam session.

“no , i’m sorry,” he replied with a chuckle, “i’m looking for sarah. last i heard she was here , but i guess not.”

“oh , yeah. she went to admin,” you answered , pulling the other headphone out and draping the wire across your shoulders, “i can tell her you stopped by…”

“rafe,” he finished for you , reaching a hand out, “i’m sarah’s brother. cabin seven.”

you nodded with a smile , reaching your hand out for him to shake. he took your hand in his , engulfing it entirely. “y/n. sarah’s roommate. cabin six,” you replied, “just do you know.”

“won’t forget it,” rafe assured you , taking a look around the room, “i like what you’ve done to the place,” he added as he inspected the hanging plant you had hung up.

“i think it’s good for campers to live in a cozy place while they’re away from home,” you explained it , hands coming behind your back as you rocked back and forth on your feet, “i don’t know— it might be dumb.”

“nah,” he immediately dismissed you. he shook his head and looked at you again with a soft smile, “s’cute. see ya around , freshie.”

your eyes trailed after him as he left the cabin , most likely in search of his sister. “see ya , vet!” you called after him , smile still gracing your lips, “jesus , something is in the water around that island.” somehow , rafe looked even better up close than he did when you first got a glimpse of him earlier.

“so you met rafe?”

another voice pulled you out of your thoughts this time. taylor. “thank god,” you sighed , moving to the bedroom and flopping on your now made bed. taylor laughed to herself , following in suit and cuddling up next to you. your arm draped over her stomach , holding your friend close.

“what’s going on , bug?” she asked , dragging a loose lock of hair out of your face, “talk to mama.”

“i think i miss my sisters?” you hummed , staring off at the wall lazily, “which is ridiculous. most days , i would rather go back to cult skyline , but i don’t know. sarah and i somehow brought that up for a moment , and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“okay…” taylor nodded, “do you want my advise or or me to just listen?” god , she knew you so well.

you just sighed deeply , letting all of the air in your lungs leave your body. “i just wanna sit here for a second. take a minute before the kids get her in two days,” you shrugged.

the two of you laid in bed for a while— you weren’t sure how much time had passed until your phone started going off to let you know it was nearing five. you groaned , reaching over a sleeping taylor and grabbing your phone to shut your alarm off.

“tay , time for the meeting,” you spoke , nudging her awake. she groaned , stretching out her body as she came to. “let’s go meet everyone else.”

“yeah , yeah. i’m coming,” she promised , pushing herself up as you did the same.

despite taking the golf cart to the cabin , the walk back over to admin wasn’t all that bad. cleo had met up with you , formally introducing herself to you. it wasn’t long before you were sat around another fire pit the camp had with the rest of the camp leaders.

“all right , everyone! how we doin’?” the woman still standing clapped her hands together , and you recognized her as marsha , the person you were communicating with before you got to jessamine. everyone applauded , hooting and hollering in excitement. “okay , okay. so to start summer off , i just wanna go over a few rules. i know— i know , boring rules. boo. however , once i get them out of the way , all of the fun begins so…”

“she’s just like meagan,” taylor leaned over and whispered to you , referring back to one of the administrators from camp skyline.

you chuckled under your breath before facing back to marsha as she continued. “… no letting kids have sex , no letting kids do drugs or drink alcohol , no letting kids sneak out around camp by themselves in the middle of the night , and finally : absolutely no fraternization between counselors!” she made it a point to shout the last rule louder than the others, “cameron , maybank , i’m looking right at ya both , okay?”

the boys smirked to themselves , a few other guys patting their backs. you were sat somewhere in between them , getting a chance to look at both. jj was laughing with john b , smacking each other back in forth in argument as to who was the bigger camp slut. they agreed on the blonde.

and rafe , he was with his friends you hadn’t met yet. they were dapping him up , congratulating him on his many conquests over the years.

“now that we’ve all agreed on not fornicating on property , let the games begin!” marsha smiled, “you all know how this works. for you newcomers , you’ll pick up just fine. get with your cabin mate and check your emails. scavenger hunt begins… now!”

everyone shot out of their chairs , finding their partners if they weren’t already sat with them to start the game. when you got to sarah , who was only a few chairs away , she already had her phone pulled out with the email pulled up.

“okay , so this is what we do every year on the first night of camp,” she started , handing you her phone to look at the list, “winner gets to have their cabin get their meals before everyone else does for the first two weeks. it actually gets pretty intense.”

you laughed , handing the phone back to its rightful owner and smiling. “let’s win then.”

“alright! i like you a lot , miss y/n/n,” sarah replied , bumping your shoulder with hers. she started walking , so you kept up with her. taking advantage of the golf carts , sarah plucked the keys out of the cup holder and started one up. “we gotta start at the end. marsha thinks we don’t know , but she puts the list in order of location. the further down the list , the further it is from home base.”

“sounds like we’re going to come out on top then,” you commented, “drive faster.”

“back to the ponies we go,” sarah nodded , pushing her foot down on the gas pedal.

you sped off , passing several counselors that were on foot , including rafe. he was with the boy from check in that taylor was checking out and another blonde.

“sare , you know that shit’s practically cheating,” rafe yelled at his sister , causing her to slow down to a complete stop.

“really?” sarah feigned innocence. her big , brown eyes practically sparkled as she looked at rafe.

you leaned forward to look past sarah and at the guys standing next to your cart. “i don’t think marsha ever said that it’s not allowed,” you chimed in , pretending to think back in time, “so we’re gonna go win real quick , and we’ll see ya when we’re passing you in line for dinner.”

it was almost despicable how sweet your smile was compared to your competitive words. rafe eyed you up and down , not bothering to hide his gaze. “sounds like sarah’s already rubbing off on you , sweetheart. better get away from her before it gets worse,” he joked, “have you met kelce and topper yet , honey?” his hand pointed back to his friends , who were impatiently waiting for rafe to shut the hell up.

“no , she hasn’t,” sarah answered for you, “and also screw you. have fun losing again this year!”

with that , sarah hit the gas and drove you away from her brother. her hand flew up , waving bye as she laughed along with you. “god , please don’t take anything that boy says to heart,” she advised , looking over at you with a serious expression all over her face.

“what do you mean?”

“well…” she started, “y’know how marsh called him and jj out for being camp’s biggest whores? she’s not kidding. i love jj , and i love rafe , but those boys can’t keep it in their pants to save their lives. and they’ll say pretty much whatever to get into someone else’s. that includes sweet talkin’ you like rafe was trying to do with his ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ and shit,” she continued explaining, “just be cautious.”

you nodded slowly , taking her words as gospel. every summer camp ever has one or two counselors that fuck like rabbits , but it was your luck that you found them both attractive here. good thing you had your one rule. no dating boys from camp.

it was simple and definitive.

it was clear you and sarah were going to finish before the rest of the counselors by the time you got to the last scavenge point on your list. it was at the fire pit by the cabins in plain view. sarah took a quick picture of you standing next to the fire and holding up the medallion that was placed on the bricks. finally , you were able to hop on the golf cart and head to home base.

“so there’s this party the counselors do every first night of camp , and i think you should come,” sarah spoke up as you steered your way passed the others.

“there’s not a party on the itinerary,” you replied , already having the next few days memorized.

she laughed at you gently , patting your thigh. “babe , it’s not exactly something marsha knows about,” she explained, “it’s , like , a right of passage for the leaders to get drunk off their asses before the kids come. i mean , we usually have kick backs on the weekends , but this welcoming party is much different.”

“different how?” you asked , furrowing your eyebrows, “party’s a party.”

“well , it’s bigger. every single leader comes to it. hangouts on the weekends are usually split up amongst us and our little groups , so this one is the party.”

“yeah , sure. i mean , it would be dumb to miss out on it,” you chuckled with a shrug , pulling up to the administrative office you had been in hours and hours ago.

the blonde let out an excited squeal , yanking you into a hug before hopping off the cart and running into the building. you stayed still , waiting for her to come back out. “first in line , baby!” she shouted , raising her fists into the air as soon as she stepped out the door.

you cheered and laughed with her , turning the golf cart off and getting out. “i love you , sarah cameron,” you confessed , pulling her into a hug.

it was only one day , and you were convinced she might be your person. she had divulged you into all of her stories and drama and didn’t feel the need to hide anything from you so far. she gave you space when you wanted it earlier. she was good. “i love you too,” she replied with a smile, “lets go gloat!”

AFTER SARAH rubbed the win in her brother’s face , while you stayed back and watched it , you met up with the pogues. thankfully , taylor was still with cleo. you immediately pulled her to the side.

“okay , you’re pulling me,” she grumbled , stepping along with you.

“there’s a party tonight,” you stated.

“yeah , there’s one every year. they were just telling me about it,” taylor shrugged, “we going?”

“well , yeah , but on top of that rafe was flirting with me,” you blurted out , cheeks rosy from the thought of the interaction before and after the game.

taylor nodded slowly , glancing back at your new friends before looking in your eyes. “what about jj ‘perfect for you’ maybank?” she asked , nodding to the blonde boy , who was trying to wrestle with cleo.

“no , no. that’s the point. i don’t want anything to do with either of them,” you groaned , dropping your head back for a moment, “so i need you to cockblock if anything happens.”

“all summer? why don’t you just put on a frickin’ chasity belt?” taylor whined.

you rolled your eyes. “just for tonight. hopefully , rafe will catch on , and leave me alone. as for jj , i’ll just be his friend.”

“just lead him on?” taylor corrected you, “he was already bothering me about you. asking me all sorts of questions.” there was a smile in her words , trying to push you to go for it like she always did when it came to the cute boys at camp.

“not happening,” you simply stated , shaking your head, “just cockblock this once , and i’ll , like , suck your dick or something. i don’t know , just help me. because my roommate’s brother giving me slutty eyes and smiles the three times i’ve met him is not on my agenda , taylor. especially after sarah told me he’s kind of a douchebag.”

“okay , okay. you’re so uptight,” taylor agreed, “and now that you mention it , cleo and kiara were saying the same sort of things ‘bout him , so fine. i’ll cockblock.”

just as you two finished up , jj called out to you. “ladies , c’mon! dinner time!” he waved you both over. taylor sent you a look before jogging to catch up with the rest of the group. you headed that way , noticing jj stayed behind in wait. “i see congratulations are in order,” he smiled at you , walking in step with you.

“it was all sarah , really,” you smiled coyly.

he was cute. taylor was right about that. his unruly blonde hair shoved under a beat up , red cap. combat boots pires with a cut off tee. you hated that you were so obviously eyeing him. even more when he said something again.

“you can take a picture you know.” there was a smile evident on your face , eyes gentle as he looked at you like you looked at him.

you just blushed , walking a little faster. “dinner smells good!” you commented , opening the door and rushing in to find sarah or taylor.

you all went through the line , shoving yourself in between the girls so jj couldn’t talk to you. sarah and kiara led you to a table , and you were able to eat. you didn’t even realize how hungry you were until you were sat down.

“cleo , i think i’m in love with you,” you groaned , taking another bit of the sandwich.

“girl , this is nothing,” kie cut in, “you should’ve been here last year. she went all out!”

“i was trying to make a good first impression,” cleo shrugged with a smile , like her cooking skills were mediocre and not something you’d dreamt of before.

“so…” john b started, “taylor told me you guys used to go to some camp in tennessee?” his question was directed at you.

you nodded , covering your mouth as you swallowed the oversize bite you just took. “mmhm,” you hummed, “skyline ridge.” you answered.

“how come you came here?” pope asked this time.

“turns out it was a baby cult,” you admitted , feeling your ears turn hot at the statement. it was kind of embarrassing how you didn’t realize until after. but who’s to blame you? you were a kid. “like , it wasn’t obvious until you left , you know?”

“kinda like the kooks!” jj pointed out with his fork.

taylor shook her head, “no , it was a little more established than your classist island drama , jj.”

“yeah , it was bad , but who cares? we’re here now,” you smiled simply.

soon enough , you all finished your meals and split up yet again to get ready for the not-so-secret secret party. sarah and you were alone again , trading clothes and trying to find a good outfit for each other.

“hey , so i know we just met and all,” sarah began , shyly twist a skirt in her hands, “but i could tell there was something bothering you when we were getting dinner. everything okay?”

god , she was so sweet.

you paused , adjusting the shirt you had switched into before looking at her. “taylor’s convinced i should get a boyfriend this summer. specifically jj , and i’m just , i don’t know , that’s just not for me.”

she nodded , perching on the edge of her bed. “why not?” it was an innocent question.

“i don’t stay in one place too long ever. i think summer camp is the only place i’ll stick around for longer than a few weeks,” you answered , sitting on your bed to face her. clothes were scattered around the both of you , but your eyes locked and it was all left behind. “ever since i ran away , i haven’t stopped to look back. there’s no reason. i travel the world and do my own thing. boys just drag ya down,” you think you explained it well enough.

“i think the right boy could lift you up , if you let him,” sarah philosophied with a sneaky smile, “on that note , i’m gonna go meet up with john b. i’ll see you at the party , y/n/n.”

you waved goodbye , watching her walk out the back door and skipping over to cabin eight. you took a deep breath , mulling over all of the options your friends had been giving you all day.

by yourself , you finished getting ready. to be completely honest , you didn’t know if you wanted to go as much anymore. it was dark , and you didn’t know your way through these woods enough to go alone. you could easily just cozy up in bed and read a book.

a knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. you rushed over , opening the wooden slab as you poked your earring through its hole. when the door opened , it revealed none other than rafe. “hey,” he greeted you , waiting for you to invite him in before he moved. he watched as you put another earring in.

“hi,” you replied , moving to the side to let him come in away from the bugs, “looking for sarah?”

he let out a chuckle , nodding his head. “yeah… she said she’d go on a beer run with me,” he explained , shoving his hands into his pockets after closing the door.

“she left for the lake , like , twenty minutes ago,” you grimaced , continuing to get ready while rafe stood in the cabin area. you shrugged on a crocheted cardigan and stood in front of him. “how do i look for my first party?”

his deep blue eyes scanned over your figure , taking their time to drink you in. your legs were exposed as you wore a pair of shorts you obviously cut yourself. the bralette-esque top sarah let you borrow covered hardly anything. the cardigan was your saving grace for any modicum of modesty. his fingers found his lips , rubbing them almost in an attempt to physically stop any nasty comments from flying out.

“you look real good , freshie,” rafe complimented you, “uh— i’ll let you get to the party. see ya,” he stammered out , reaching for the door handle.

“oh , well i can go with ya. since sarah ditched you,” you offered up , promptly getting him to stop opening the door. you don’t know what changed in the last minute for you to go from wanting to stay in for the night to wanting to join the camp whore on a beer run , but it was already offered.

“if you wanna. i mean , it’s just a beer run , so it shouldn’t take long,” rafe nodded, “i’ll have you back to your little pogues in no time.”

“you guys and your kooks and pogues,” you rolled your eyes , running back into your room to grab your phone and camera, “you do realize you’re all nobodies outside of that little island , right?” you questioned him , brushing past his body to slip out the door.

“you wouldn’t understand,” rafe sighed , following you outside before taking the lead to his truck.

“try me,” you pressed. you were walking passed everyone— going against the grain. you both waved to a few of the people who said hello first , and then your eyes lock on jj’s.

he was walking with pope and kiara , but his eyes were trained on your movements and who you were with. and you don’t know why , but your heart actually stung a little bit when you saw him tear his eyes away from you , going back to talking to his friends like nothing happened.

nothing did happen.

it’s a beer run with a fellow camp leader. big deal.

“so?” you nudged rafe with your elbow, “what’s this big thing between kooks and pogues my tiny mind just don’t understand!” you were being theatrical , and rafe chuckled a little bit before shoving you a little in the direction of his truck that came into view.

“it’s always been that way. the island was always the rich and the poor,” he began to explain, “but i think right now is the most polarized it’s ever been. i mean , we’re getting into fights all of the time. jj got arrested for sinking topper’s boat a couple of years ago! it’s all eye for an eye back home.”

rafe stopped to open the passenger door for you before moving around and climbing behind the wheel. you buckled up and looked at him. “you know that saying though?”

“hmm?” he hummed.

“if it’s always eye for an eye , eventually everyone is blind?” you mused , waiting for him to pick up on it.

“okay,” he rolled his eyes now, “you don’t get it.”

“no! hey , don’t pout,” you pointed at him when he focused more on the roads than the conversation , which usually you’d be grateful for a responsible driver , but you can only assume he usually isn’t. “it’s not me making fun of you as much as it is telling you there is a big , big world out there that doesn’t give a damn if your from the cut or the loop or whatever the fuck you call it.”

“figure eight,” he corrected you , fixing his pouty lips into a smile as he glanced at you again.

“whatever— do you have a fake? if not , i do , so we can get the beers,” you changed the subject.

and he laughed at you. “baby , i don’t need a fake id.”

“oh , well , okay. how old are you?” you stuttered at the nickname. what was with this man and terms of endearment?

“twenty-three.” he leaned over and gave you the biggest , toothiest smile.

“old man,” you scoffed , pushing his head away from you, “you should be old enough to realize that—“

“that the stupid generational rivalry is pointless. yeah , yeah,” he finished for you, “just let me buy you some drinks for the party and be happy about it,” he joked.

“oh , i don’t drink,” you shook your head.

that’s what got him to look at you fully. “shit— sorry , i didn’t mean to offend you. it’s just , i don’t know , you offered to come with me , so i guess i just assumed,” he rambled off as you started giggling.

his brows furrowed in confusion , not understanding what was funny or why you were laughing at him. “i’m kidding , ray,” you laughed , patting his head gently, “of course i drink. why else would i have a fake , doofus?”

with the relief that you weren’t actually making fun of him , rafe was able to laugh along with you. he did take notice of the nickname you gave him , though. “ray,” he whispered.

“like sunshine , ya know? it’s an oxymoron,” you explained, “and it could easily be an actual nickname for you , so it’s perfect.”

“ray like sunshine,” rafe echoed with a nod, “how exactly is that an oxymoron?”

you looked at him with a sly smile. “you’re not exactly cheery.”

“uh uh!” he argued back, “i can be cheery as fuck!”

you let out a belly laugh , tilting your head back , and rafe thinks he’s met his maker when you do. “i would looooove to see you be anything but flirty with me or grouchy with sarah. truly , i’d enjoy it,” you remarked , shifting your seat a little.

“there’s a lot you haven’t seen from me yet,” rafe remarked , proving your point of only ever being cheeky or grumpy.

“exhibit a,” you pointed, “i’m gonna start keeping count.” the two of you chuckled as he pulled into the parking lot ( of what you assume is ) the closest liquor store to camp.

“c’mon , honey. you’re mrs. rafe cameron if anyone asks,” he included you in his little scheme as if it was a necessity to this beer run. he hopped out of the truck , opening your door once again for you to slide out and land on the ground. “after you,” he smiled , opening the business’ door.

“okay , my ray of sunshine husband,” you playfully scrunch your nose , walking into the store. he was already trying to be ‘sunshiney’ after your comment.

you paused when you stepped in , waiting for rafe to drag you through the store as you’d never been. “follow me,” he simply said , grabbing your hand like he’d done it all his life , like you weren’t two total strangers. it was that moment that made you realize you were starting to break your own rules. well , maybe you didn’t realize it realize it , but in the back of your head? you did.

he lead the way to the back cooler , stepping inside and grabbing a case of beer and one of the seltzers. “you want anything specific?” he looked over to you , seeing you standing in the door way , holding yourself tight at the temperature change. “c’mere,” he gestured to himself and opened his arm.

despite yourself , you moved quickly to him and snuggled into his side. his hand ran up and down your arm , trying to warm you up. “grab whatever you want , and we’ll get outta here.”

your hand reached for a case of ciders , but you paused to look up at him for approval. he nodded and grabbed it before you could and ushered you out of the cooler.

“id please,” the cashier spoke monotonously , looking at you and rafe like you were idiots.

“marco , i literally come here every year. we have this conversation every year,” rafe groaned , digging in his pocket for his wallet.

“and up until two years ago , you were just another jessamine shit head underage drinking,” marco joked , nodding to you, “id , hon.”

“oh—“ you started , but rafe cut you off.

“hey , she’s good,” he nodded , sending marco a message you couldn’t quite read yet, “mrs. cameron isn’t old enough yet. she’s just along for the ride. right , baby?” he continued with his lie , wrapping his arm around you again and squeezing you tight.

marco rolled his eyes , knowing rafe was going to slip him a crisp if he just processed the purchase. “have a good night , y’all,” he grumbled. you muttered a small reply , waving meekly as rafe set a hundred dollar bill on the counter. he tapped it once before grabbing the cases of drinks.

you held the door open for him this time , seeing as his arms were full. “m’lady,” you jested , even bowing before him as he walked through the exit with a scoff.

“shut up,” he chuckled , shaking his head. he set the drinks in the back seat and opened your door. “git on up,” he tapped your back before closing the door— only after making sure nothing of yours was in the way.

rafe wasn’t too sure why he was being all gentlemanly with you. maybe it was because he wanted to prove you wrong when you said he was just a flirt or a grouch. maybe it’s the way you were someone that didn’t know him yet , and he could be someone else for once.

hell , wasn’t that what summer was for?

the drive back was calm. you and rafe just chatted , asking each other questions and really listening to the other one’s answers.

you couldn’t help but think to yourself that maybe everyone else had got it wrong. rafe had depth. you listened to the way he talked about his work , his aspirations , his ideologies. he wasn’t just some camp whore you were so easily labeling him earlier.

“you know what , hubby?” you hummed , hand out the window , surfing the air. your head was rested against the seat , but you turn to look at him with a smile on your face.

“what ever is on your mind , dear?” he replied , goofy smile matching yours as did his tone. the ongoing joke between you two made you giggle before continuing.

“i think you might be one of the most complex people i have ever met,” you confessed genuinely , sweetly almost. and like it wasn’t the best , most heartfelt compliment anyone had ever given rafe , you turned forward again , closing your eyes to just feel the wind passing you by.

rafe held back a grin to himself , mimicking you and just focusing on the road to give you a quiet rest of the ride back. the peaceful kind of quiet rafe didn’t even believe existed.

a/n here it is! please let me know if you hate it or love it or have ideas!!! also: tea me posting this earlier than i expected:)

taglist @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @viennafantasies @cnnamongrl @embersfae @enchantingexile @urbrunettebombshell @wearemadeofstardust0 @psychicnatural @ecstqzy @ssqra @st4rkeyl0ver @shincidios @xoxo-ada @lmaolmaos @lilyhyperfixates @courta13

[acid-ixx]

They aren't finished but I wanted to give you these! They're all WIPS so so far. Some are a bit older and you can tell what the newer ones are that I just made right now.

Thank you for posting a new chapter. It was an amazing read and I just loved it so much! Still trying to find those song references 😂

chapter spoilers and drafts (again &. again)

— masterlist ! ; chapter 4 ; ash's commisions

OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH A BLESSING??? BANGER AFTER BANGER AFTER BANGER I SWEAR 💞

ash, you have always provided my little fanbase for my series so much food for thought, this is absolutely beautiful in every way. i literally don't care if they're wips or unfinished because either way you always make do with what i write, descriptive or not. i love your artstyle and how soft you draw the mc and how handsome conner is (i literally showed your art off to all my friends). you're so talented and i wish to reciprocate all the efforts you've done for this series 😭

i'm serious. from your portrayal of the mc, to them flying with conner, you never once disappoint anyone.

because of this, i'd like to leak some parts of my story from chapter five and beyond 💕! thank you so much for this, and i hope my yapping below suffices.

major spoilers below the cut!

the graduation photo! i have something planned with that, and i'd delve so much deeper (soon) with just how much a single photo can influence bruce's line of thought once he discovers that picture frame. love how happy mc is in the photo because, for me, it symbolizes them growing up (quite literally) and acknowledging a new path in life, alongside only finding alfred as their only father figure compared to bruce.

you consider yourself reserved, and prefer your life living within the confines of privacy and protection from media exposure. your mother always told you: better safe than sorry once; right after you've asked her about why you can't seem to find personal information about your father when she helped you search him up occasionally.

all the questions you ask her about the lack of your father's preferences — because you merely wanted to know more about him beyond the stories she told you! — she rebutted with a soft smile, a kiss on your head, and an explanation.

she'd warn you about the dangers of media exposure, about how your father and her prefer to keep their relationship a secret, and how too much cameras and paparazzi flashes can blind you.

she said that someone's perception of another person could be ruined once their deepest secrets are revealed. that's why your papa isn't seen beyond the doors of the manor he resides in; because people are attracted to mystery and allure.

hence why she'd restricted you from the usage of any devices within your household during your childhood, other than the excuse of having no money to afford it.

and you always abide by that principle of secrecy; especially right after alfred had saved you from... whatever happened years ago in elementary. from when that man... no, those men knew about your identity...

so, safe to say you were an introvert, at least when it comes to social media. the concept of the fear of missing out never once rattled your brain, no matter how anxious you are whenever you're with your friends; scared that you wouldn't fit in. but they never cared and accepted you with open arms, so it doesn't really matter, no?

you're safe now that you're at metropolis.

and like she always said, better safe than sorry! keep it within you and never out!

so why?

why is it just right after you've opened your twitter app— why is it that your face is plastered all across news accounts?

anyways, the second and third images are so romantic!!! and cute, and cured my depression i swear. i showed this to my one friend and she told me that conner's hand size compared to mc's is straight up hot, and i agree! i love the hand placement, and the way conner holds the mc so softly! yes, i too, would love to touch his man-tits beyond his impeccably tight shirt and play with his hands!

and the cute little panel with him squishing their face and desire their confirmation that, they do, in fact, think they're hot. he's a very insecure man after all, and his self-worth would revolve around your perception of him. he doesn't see you as god, but he doesnt see you as his everything. every opinion matters from you, and that's what makes the green flag part about him.

fun fact about him in the series! he loves to moisturize his hands with lots of skin care products because he read from an article once that some people prefer the feel of soft or moisturized hands. he definitely did not wait for the moment for you to touch him for the first time in forever since he first saw you! yeah, he's a bit more freaky than i let him out to be. the more you're exposed to him, the more you'll learn just how obsessed he is.

as for all the people asking if i'd write more about him: the answer is yes! he's a vital character, so don't worry because he'll appear in many scenes either way. for those concerned about why he didn't save the mc— well, chapter five will explain soon 🩷

and this art perfectly portrays it! it's seen from an outside perspective and they look very pretty, yet from what they see with their eyes is a different thing. the longer you stare at yourself, the more your image is distorted. i intentionally added the flower analogy because flowers are portrayed as pretty, no matter the size and shape. even as they wilt or sag, they still retain some color and a semblance of what was once a history of their prime.

then lastly! the mirror scene. it all returns to chapter three, chapter four was a sequel of their breakdown containing mirrors. reflections and the perception of one self is an important aspect of my series because it reminds me of myself, so them nit-picking each and every insecurity whilst staring at the mirror; that's a scene i wrote based off of a real life experience of mine. having both attractive parents, or those acknowledged as conventionally pretty, whilst being in an environment filled with as equally smart or attractive people, comparing yourself to them all the time, is a struggle.

the only way to make flowers 'ugly' is by destroying them, by stepping on them, ripping them apart, never once caring for them. i think that's very crucial because people do see anything destroyed or stripped away from its foundation a mess, or so. but there's always beauty in everything and i abide by that thought!

again, thank you so much ash for drawing this and bringing my story to life! you, alongside many other users who send in their fanarts, are always such an inspiration for me to write! you guys are the backbone of my series and i stand by my sentence!!! may you get plenty of commissions and plenty of money to support you <333

also, the FLOWER BOTTLE AND THE CAT PAW REFERENCE! i love how everyone accepts that we have a canon cat now based solely off of this. i think that's precious, and having a feline pet is a great little choice for my own plot (just to lessen the pain of the angst).

i hope you enjoyed this little mess rant!

(as for the songs, don't worry, the lyrics become more prevalent for chapter five! chapter four doesn't have any explicit lyrics contained in them, only implications.)

[hollandsangel]

casual | m. sturniolo

i’ve been scheming for weeks !! (actually started this before move over AND voice. so.)

basically i’m obsessed with this song

summary: the most dangerous label is the casual one; or you both want more

warnings: matt x fem!reader, use of y/n, ANGST, cursing, happy ending bc i’m a sucker & a lost cause

wc: 6.5k

the sun is dipping behind the horizon, painting the sky pink and orange. you have your window rolled down, letting the salt air breeze pick your hair up as you rest against the car door. matt has elmer’s new song playing on aux, something lofi with a bit of spanish mixed in.

“like what you see?” he speaks up, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look over at you. he stares for a second, your skin illuminated by the fading rays of the sun, kissing the tops of your cheeks and giving you a warm glow.

you press yourself up to sit properly and catch his hand resting on the center console. you always loved that he drives with his left hand, the right always close enough for you to touch. 

“it’s pretty,” you say, poking your head back out of the window, looking overhead at the passing trees, “the palms are so tall.” matt squeezes your hand, and when you look back up he’s already looking at you, smiling when you meet his eyes.. his hair looks lighter in the setting sun, the side of his face lit up all golden and warm. you bite your lip and smile, turning away with a slight flush.

“it’s green,” you tell him and he flicks his head back forward, muttering a curse under his breath.

“my bad,” he admits, refusing to drop your hand. 

it looked like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, just takes a breath and lets it out before turning back to the road.

when the car pulls into the garage you reach to the back to grab your overnight bag. matt’s already out of the car, coming over to your side to open your door, “c’mon,” he says in that silly high pitched voice, just to hear you giggle.

you make your way to his bedroom, knowing the ins and outs of the triplet’s house like the back of your hand. matt follows behind you, his footsteps echoing amongst the hardwood floors. 

“i can’t wait to lay down,” you sigh, the effects of the sun's heat catching up with you now that you’re in the cool, air conditioned house.

“yeah, i’m feelin’ pretty tired too,” matt agrees, his voice heavy and suddenly cloaked by fatigue.

you’d been out all day, shopping on melrose, walking by the beach. dinner and ice cream and the beating sun soaked up all your energy. nothing sounded better than getting cozy in matt’s bed and watching a movie, maybe catching a bit of a nap before deciding to head home. you knew he’d insist on driving you, and that always hurt more than you’d like to admit.

the two of you weren’t dating, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you told yourself you didn’t mind. it wasn’t a very convincing lie though, most everyone around you could tell. it’s not that you hadn’t talked about it, you had, there were just things getting in the way.

matt was worried about how his fans would react, and he absolutely did not want it to be at your expense. you hated the thought of pushing him, like forcing him or asking too much, being too needy would only drive him away. all your friends had told you to stop, that you were only going to get yourself hurt, but you’d honestly rather have half of him and a broken heart than none of him at all. 

you never doubted that he cares about you, in fact you know he does. he always picks you up from classes, knows your order at all your favourite fast food places and keeps an extra toothbrush in the bathroom for you. it’s things like that that make the title of causal or just seeing each other sting a little bit more.

here though, all settled in matt’s bed, you try not to think about it too hard. there’s some liam neeson movie he insisted on showing you playing on the tv, and you’re happy to be watching it, but mostly happy to be watching it with him. his chest rises and falls under your head with each breath and it’s making you more tired than before.

“i’m so warm,” you say through a yawn, all comfy now in your sweats and matt’s crewneck, although the comfort comes mostly from his arms wrapped around your middle. 

“you can throw on a pair of boxers if you want, top drawer,” matt offers, his arms unmoving, keeping you mildly trapped against him.

“let me goooo,” you groan dramatically, making a big show of sliding out from under his arms and grinning to yourself when he laughs.

“come back,” he pouts, reaching for a stuffed animal to take your place while you cross the room to his dresser.

“just give me a sec,” you giggle, rummaging around in the drawer and pulling out a pair of plaid boxers. there’s something stuck to it, all tangled up in the mess of his clothes, “what the– is this my bra? i’ve been looking for this for like a month.” 

matt lifts his head just enough to see what you’re holding up, huffing when he hits the pillow again, “i dunno, sweetheart, you probably left it, you’ve got a lot of stuff here,” he sounds tired, and the words are pressed against his pillow now that he’s rolled onto his stomach. 

you’ve got lots of stuff here.

it digs into you, how casually he says it, an almost physical ache you feel beyond your ribs, right where your heart is. 

quickly you try to shake it off, shucking off your sweatpants and sliding the boxers up your legs so you can hurry back into bed before allowing yourself to think about what he said too much. 

“c’mere,” there’s a little smile on his face when he says it, arm outstretched for you to crawl under. immediately matt tucks you up against his body impossibly close, his nose stuffed into your hair and breathing you in. it feels nice, right, and you let yourself bask in it, like maybe the state of your relationship (or lack thereof) won’t be in limbo forever. he has to feel it too, the pull.

“i think you should just stay tonight,” he says quietly against your temple, leaving a little kiss there.

“are you sure?”

he nods, “it’s late, ‘m not gonna kick you out,” you can see his smile in the dark, his features lit up delicately by the dim light of the movie, “and i kinda wanna cuddle,” he admits sheepishly, trying to hide his blush when you turn to him.

“awe, matty,” you tease, scooching closer to him, hardly an inch away.

“hey,” he says all high pitched, making you laugh again.

“that voice always gets me,” you tell him, snuggling up under his chin.

“that’s why i do it,” he tells you.

it doesn’t take long for you to slip into an easy sleep with matt holding you, the mindless noise coming from the tv luring you deeper into unconsciousness. he’s being extra gentle, finger tips dragging along your waist under your top. you hardly feel him slide out of bed or tuck you in all snug under the covers.

nick’s in the kitchen when matt emerges from his bedroom for some water,  hunting for something in the pantry. matt rubs his eyes.

“hello?” chris leans forward on the couch, his voice startling matt.

“jesus, what– you’re just both out here at fucking two in the morning?” he grumbles, eyes squinted against the harsh lights.

“we ordered food,” chris stands up, walking into the kitchen.

nick nods, closing the cupboard, glass in hand, “we thought you were at y/n’s or something, i didn’t hear you come in,”

matt grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and a takes a sip before answering, “nah she’s here, she’s asleep,” he says, nodding towards his bedroom.

nick groans, “god, are you guys dating yet,” he asks, head rolling back against his shoulders, exsapertated.

matt’s eyes widen at the sudden outburst of noise, looking back at his door to make sure nick didn’t wake you, “dude, be quiet,” he urges.

you’d felt matt’s absence after a few minutes, the warmth of his body leaving the bed when he did. slowly you sit up, pressing the heel of your palm into your eye and swinging your feet to the floor quietly. you stand behind matt’s closed bedroom door, prepared to silently creep out and go to the bathroom when you catch his voice. 

“and no,we’re just casual,” he continues to answer nick’s question, who glances over and chris. “what— don’t look at him like that,” this earns him another sideye, “i mean it, it’s not serious.”

“matthew” nick starts, “isn’t she asleep in your bed right now?” nick points an accusatory finger in his brother’s direction, emphasizing his words.

it’s matt’s turn to look at chris, who holds his hands up in surrender, “don’t look at me, i’m with nick,” he says, looking away from his brother from where he remains on the couch.

“well she’s not my girlfriend, if that’s where this is going,” matt turns back to the fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to hide from his brother’s judgmental, but justified, stares. 

it hurts to hear, even if you know it’s the truth.

“and why not, idiot,” nick asks, getting fed up. he can clearly tell how his brother feels and is getting frustrated, mad even, with the idea of him toying with your feelings. 

“i just—i just can’t do it.” that hurts more, a sharp pain you feel in your chest. you swallow dryly, and that hurts too. 

you decide you don’t have to go to the bathroom that badly anymore, and slowly sink back into matt’s bed. you know you and matt aren’t together, that he’s not your boyfriend, but a part of you has always clung to the idea that one day he would be, that he’d finally make the move. you thought he liked you enough to at least try.

tugging the duvet up to your chin you roll over onto your side to face the wall. matt comes back into the bedroom and you can hear nick and chris talking quietly for a second before the door closes again. you’re not too sure, but you think one of them mumbles your name amidst the conversation. matt slides back under the covers with you, coming as close as he can to wrap his arms around you.

it makes your head spin, his words rattling around in your mind, saying he “can’t do it,” but here is, body tucked perfectly against yours, holding you so tight you’d think he never wanted to let go.

—

matt seems notice that you’re a bit quieter than usual the next morning, but you try to hide it under the excuse of not feeling well. he offers to drop you off and you take him up on it, knowing that marinating in the misery you feel won’t solve anything but seems to be the easiest thing to do at the moment.

“text me if you need anything, okay?” his tone is concerned and you can feel him looking at you even though you’re trying to avoid eye contact. you know you’d cave, catching a glimpse of the light blue with all that worry clouding it.

“yeah, i will,” you sigh, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag. 

matt catches you, palm placed delicately along your jaw so you’ll look at him, “hey,” he says all soft, “c’mere,” he guides you forward slightly and you know what’s coming, you know it’s gonna hurt but you do it anyway.

he kisses you gently and you fall into it with ease, reaching out to touch his arm. when he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone you pull away, licking your lips.

“i’ve gotta go,” you whisper, afraid the full volume of your voice would shatter something, you’re not too sure what.

“yeah, okay,” he nods, pulling his hand away from your face and trying to smile as you open your door, watching you walk into your building.

he stays there in the parked car for a minute, wondering what’s wrong, pretending he doesn’t know that this whole situation hurts you just as much as it hurts him. he’s staring up at your apartment window, tapping the steering wheel and taking a long, deep breath.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, pushing his hair back and putting the car in reverse.

—

you and matt don’t talk excessively for the next few days, only a few texts exchanged here and there and one phone call after he knew you’d just written a midterm. 

he called to ask how it went and tell you he was proud of you, and also to invite you out to dinner with his parents on the upcoming weekend. they were flying out to l.a. for a few days and he wanted you to meet them. it felt cruel.

“i dunno matt, i’ve got an assignment due sunday at midnight, i might not be able to make it,” of course you wanted to go, but the tug of self preservation was starting to become more equal to the pull you felt towards him. you were starting to lose sight of what was more important, him or yourself.

for so long it had been him.

“please, sweetheart, i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever,”  matt slumps into his desk chair, spinning back forth.

you cave and somehow your vision clears. it was him again.

“yeah, yeah, okay, i wanna see you too,”

matt smiles on the other end of the phone, “yay,” he says sweetly, making his joy obvious, “i can help you with your assignment if you want, too,” he offers, and you know he’s just trying to get a smile out of you.

you laugh without meaning to, “matt, you know nothing about the course,” 

“i’ll figure it out, anything i can do to make sure i see you,”

you bite your lip, trying to keep a smile at bay, “careful, you’re gonna make me think you like me or something,”

“aw, well i can’t have that now can i?” he teases, and it cuts deeper than he realizes it does.

“no,” you mutter, trying to hold onto the smile on your face even though matt can’t see you, “um, i should probably get going, if i wanna finish my assignment on time,”

“oh, yeah, okay. i could come by a little later with some food?” he poses it as a question, sensing your hesitancy.

“you don’t have to do that,”

“i know, but i want to,” he says it so easily, like there’s no reason in the world he wouldn’t come to your house after eleven pm just to sit on your bedroom floor while you do school work.

“canes?” you finally offer.

“be there in half an hour.” you hear the car keys jingle through the phone, the front door latching shut.

—

the triplet’s parents land on friday afternoon. you haven’t seen matt since wednesday night when he called and brought take out to your place, and you’re starting to feel a little nervous at the thought of seeing his parents.

you’ve spoken to them over facetime once or twice when matt had called them, but this is real, this is serious.

you think you’ve completely driven yourself insane with that, thinking of it as serious. for days there’s been a battle in your head about whether or not this means matt wants to make your relationship offical. it’s become such a problem that you’ve forbidden yourself from thinking about it.

taking a deep breath you refocus on yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair and trying to decide on a lip product for the night when your roomate wanders into your bedroom.

“how are you doing?” she asks, leaning against the door frame. you don’t answer, just look up at her with what must be a miserable expression, because she chuckles sadly at you, “that bad, huh?”

you groan and clench your fists, “i’m just confused!” you exclaim.

“i know, but i think tonight should clear some things up,” she tells you hopefully, and you really want to believe her.

“i hope so,” you sigh, “i just really like him,” you whine, defeated.

your phone dings then, a message from matt of course.

matt sturn

be there in twenty

ive got the kids

you laugh sadly at the text.

“‘s that him?” your roommate asks.

“yeah, him and his brothers are on the way, they’ll be here soon.”

“you’ll do great, don’t sweat it,” she tries to reassure you, giving you an over enthusiastic thumbs up before shutting your door again.

matt, nick and chris have been in the car for about five minutes and already matt’s debating driving into oncoming traffic. him and his brothers have had the same fight at least three times since you stayed over last week, and if he’s honest, he’s getting really sick of it.

“enough of this ‘i can’t do that’ bullshit, matt, she’s coming to dinner with our parents,” nick says pointedly, running out of air at the end of his setence, “you don’t just bring your hook up to that shit, so fucking stop talking to her if it’s that much of an issue,” he continues, leaning froward against matt’s seat, staring holes into the side of his brothers face.

matt is clearly aggravated, gripping the wheel a little too hard, “shut the fuck up, nick— she’s not just a hook up,” 

nick’s eyes get wider at this and he leans over matt’s seat, voice exponentially louder when he says, “you just proved my fucking point!!”

“you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” matt mumbles in a deft tone, staring harshly out onto the road.

chris leans over from the passenger seat, gesturing in matt’s direction, “and you do? you never shut the fuck up about her, and she’s always at the house but you’re too much of a pussy to do anything,” he yells over matt all in one breath, words coming out too fast. 

matt’s mouth is set in a firm line and he’s shaking his head, “you guys don’t get it!” he finally yells back, signaling and switching lanes before he can finish his thought, “i can’t do that to her,” the car’s stopped at a red light now, allowing him to look nick in the eye from the rearview mirror. both him and chris shut up for a second.

“i can’t do that to her,” matt emphasizes again, making his point with his hands, bracketing the last two words, “the internet would chew her up and spit her out. you think i don’t want to make her my girlfriend? do you think i like doing this to her? every fucking day i think about cutting it off because i don’t wanna hurt her, but i’m too fucking selfish to do it.”

“it’s green,” chris mumbles.

“shut the fuck up,” matt says through his teeth as he turns back to face the road, driving through the light.

“so what are you gonna do?” nick asks, softer now, arm hung over the back of matt’s seat.

matt looks up at him in the rearview again, taking a deep, anxiety ridden breath, “i don’t know.”

the three boys are silent for the remainder of the drive to your apartment. matt puts the car in park and mumbles something about being right back before getting out and heading up to your floor, slamming the car door a little bit too hard.

“jesus christ,” chris breathes, feeling the tension finally break.

there’s a knock at the front door, and you take a deep breath before opening it. matt stands with his hair a little bit messy and his cheeks a little bit red, but he softens when he sees you.

“hey,” you say, “let me just grab my bag,”

“wait, y/n,”

“yeah?” you turn back around to look at him. he’s standing in the middle of your kitchen, looking a little bit deflated.

“can i have a hug?”

your heart nearly shatters. is he feeling it too?

“wha– of course baby, of course,” you cross the kitchen over to him and he already has his arms open. immediately he locks his arms around your waist, resting his head against yours. you gently rub his back and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“is everything okay?” you wonder after a second, feeling him breathe heavily against you.

matt squeezes you a little tighter and kisses your hair, “yeah,” he sighs, “nick and chris are just annoying,”

“you love them though,” you remind him.

he pulls away but keeps you close, hands on your hips now, “sometimes i think about reevaluating that,” 

you laugh at him, fixing his messy hair, “no you don’t,”

its his turn to smile, “you’re right,” he leans in for a quick kiss which you grant him, letting it dampen your nerves and reservations on the evening.

“i know, now c’mon, we’ve gotta go,” you slide your hand down into his.

“you don’t have to be nervous, by the way,” matt says to you in the elevator, still holding your hand. 

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and he squeezes your hand, letting you know he’s there for you, “it just feels serious,” you finally admit what you’ve been thinking for the last few days. you’re a little bit afraid to look over at him, so you keep your gaze towards the closed elevator doors.

matt gives your hand a quick squeeze and glances at the side of your face, you can feel his eyes on you, “it’s not serious, don’t worry,” it’s a little strained when he says it, as if he means something else but you can’t quite decipher it. it’s too much to think about now and yet it’s all you’ve been thinking about for days, how ‘unserious’ it all is to him.

when you do get to dinner, marylou and jimmy are already at the restaurant. marylou is being so sweet to you, asking about classes and how you met the boys, what you like do to in your spare time and things about matt that you tease him over. you feel like a girlfriend, you feel like his girlfriend and you don't think you can take much more of it. she tells you how much he talks about you when he’s home, that even justin has started making fun of him for it.

when you look over at matt he’s blushing but staring directly into his plate, avoiding you.

the smile you plastered onto your face fades and you dig your nails into your plam under the table.

“excuse me, i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you say to no one in particular, catching nick’s eyes. he seems to notice your pleading gaze, and sends you a text after you’ve left the table

nick stromboli 

you okay?

you lock yourself in the single bathroom and stand staring at your phone screen.

you

this is brutal

your mom is being sooo sweet but matt won’t even look at me

i feel like he's embarrassed

nick stromboli

he's actually the biggest idiot that ever lived

chris is lowk giving him a death stare rn

nick was being serious, chris staring at matt as marylou goes on about how nice you are.

nick elbows matt in the side and he looks over, more than slightly fed up.

“i think you should go check on y/n,” he whispers, making matt perk up a bit in worry.

“why?”

“i don’t think she’s feeling good,”

“oh, i hope she’s okay,” marylou interrupts herself.

“i’ll be right back,” matt stands from the table and walks to the bathroom, knocking on the door gently, “y/n/n? it’s me sweetheart,”

a slight panic drops through you as you push away from where you were leaning against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“c’mon let me in, nick said you weren’t feeling good,” he knows you were nervous about tonight, and he’s hoping that’s all it is, that he can fix it.

you sigh, head tossed back to your shoulders as you breathe out before letting him in, hoping you look more composed than you feel.

“hey, you okay?” he asks gently, closing the door behind him.

“yeah, uh, i think i’m gonna go,” you mumble, looking away.

“what? d–do you want like a gingerale or something?” his brows are pinched and he’s reaching out for you. you step back without thinking about it. you don’t even notice you’d done it until you see the hurt look on his face. he reaches out again, slower this time.

“y/n…”

something in you clicks, or comes crashing down when his fingers brush your wrist, “i’m not your girlfriend matt, stop worrying about me like i am,”

he's a little bit stunned at that and pulls back, saying your name again. 

“no, don’t do that, i heard what you said to the guys last week, and you keep telling me we’re causal and we can’t be anything but we’re at dinner with your fucking parents. i can’t keep prenteding to be your girlfriend, or–or that it doesn’t hurt, i just can’t do it anymore,” 

there’s tears in your eyes you don’t notice until matt whispers, “don’t cry,”

“i’m going crazy,” you tell him, voice so soft, so fragile that his heart breaks a little bit.

“no you’re not, c’mon– we can work this out,” the words are so comforting, and normally he’s the one you’d run to for comfort, but he’s hurting you.

“are we gonna make it official, matt? or are we just gonna keep sleepingover at eachother’s houses four days a week and tell all our friend we aren’t dating?” you ask, pressing your fingertips underneath your eyes, “are we gonna do this for real or are you gonna keep telling your parents about me when you’re in boston, and–and keep coming to my house after midnight with take out just because i don’t wanna be alone working on assignments,” he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a solemn look, so you keep going.

“i can’t take the sorry fucking look chris keeps giving me when i’m walking out of your room, it hurts, matt,”

he steps forward finally, trying to make up for more than the physical space that separates you, “no, c’mon, just–just come back to the table. i’ll stay at yours tonight and we’ll talk about this,”

you hold back a scoff at the irony of him mentioning he’ll stay over, “i need an answer now.” you tell him. he’s gone back to standing a few feet away from you, not touching you anymore.

“an answer for what?”

“can you commit to this now? to me?” you feel like you’re pleading with him and you hate how desperate it is.

“we aren’t having this conversation in the bathroom right now, can we please just talk about it later?” matt asks.

you shake your head, “matt, we’ve been doing this for four months, i don’t wanna wait any longer, i’m not a toy.”

he stares at you, licking his lips. you stare back, suffocating in his silence. it’s all the answer you need.

“i’m gonna go,” you mutter, “tell your parents it was really nice to meet them, and that i’m sorry for leaving,” you add, looking away when you walk passed him to open the door.

you leave the restaurant and call an uber, hardly sparing a glance in the direction of his family’s table on your way out.

“is y/n okay?” jimmy asks when matt comes back alone. 

matt shoves a hand into his hair to push it back, not meeting anybody’s eyes, “she went home, she wasn’t feeling good”

“and you didn’t offer to take her?” marylou scolds, sure she raised her son better than that.

“she didn’t want me to,” matt admits, defeated.

nick and chris share a look, knowing that isn’t the whole truth, or really the truth at all. 

—

a few days later, after their parents had gone back to boston, matt’s shuffling into nick’s bedroom, where him and chris are laying on the bed on their phones. 

matt looks a mess, hair wild and eyes sunken in. he’s been in his bedroom all day, blinds drawn and door latched shut

nick thinks he’s wearing a hoodie of yours, the faded smell of your perfume lingering when his brother walks in. 

“…you okay?” nick asks, glancing up from his phone. 

matt shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes with his fists, “i feel like fucking shit,” he admits, still looking down, “i hate that i hurt her,” he tells the two, as if his brothers weren’t already acutely aware, “i was trying so hard to keep from hurting her and i fucking did it anyway,” they wait for matt to finish, knowing he has a little more to say, “i was so fucking scared of making things offical that i lost her all together, she’s never gonna talk to me again,”

nick sighs and looks over at chris, the two of them sharing a sympathetic look before he moves forward and puts his arm around matt, who slumps against his shoulder, “that's not true,” nick says, “she probably should never talk to you again, but she’s a good person, and she’s our friend,”

“yeah, and she cares about you a lot, matt.” chris adds, sitting on the matt’s other side.

matt groans and covers his face, “i know, and that’s what sucks,” he wipes his palms over his face, “god, why was i so fucking stupid?”

“because you really like her,” chris offers, “and you’re gonna try and make it up to her…right?”

matt sits back up, staring at the wall, “i dunno, i want to, i don’t…” he takes a deep breath, willing the pit in his stomach to go away, “i’m more afraid of losing her all together than i was of any of that other shit, but i don’t know how to fix…this,” he says, dejected.

nick perks up, because he’s never seen matt half as lively as he is when he’s with you, or talking about you. he’s pretty sure matt was on his way to falling in love with you (if he hasn’t already) and refuses to let him lose hope,“i have an idea,” he says.

matt looks at his brother, desperate. the circles under his eyes a shade too dark, his cheeks sunken in, his lips chapped. nick continues.

“we’ll need waffles.”

—

it’s been over a week and a half since you walked out of the restaurant, and since you’d spoken to matt. nick’s been messaging you, asking if you’re okay and telling you he’s there for you. there’s been a bit of him telling you how stupid matt is, which you’d agreed with solemnly.

nick’s messaging you now. you’re posted up at your kitchen table trying to review for one of your exams, but more so warding off another wave of tears, pressing your fingertips into your eyes.

you pick up your phone to answer the message nick had sent, something about a sleepover at your place this weekend and a promise of a hannah montana binge, but there’s a knock at your door. you’re confused at first, wondering who’s at your door this late.

“did you order food?” you ask your roommate as you get up, looking in through the crack of her barely opened door. her headphones are on and she's hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, oblivious to any visitors.

your heartbeat speeds up a little bit as you begin to think about who’s on the other side. with a huff you look through the peephole, met with a slightly distorted image of matt anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

he keeps looking down the hallway and biting the inside of his cheek. he’s holding something. a paper bag in one hand and a bouquet of delicately wrapped flowers in the other.

you turn the lock, hand shaking a little bit as the door swings open. he whips his head from where he was looking down the hall to the now open door, your eyes locking immediately.

“matt,” you whisper, not even meaning to say it.

he stares at you for a second, seemingly forgetting any words he would have said for a second before holding up the bag.

“i brought waffles.”

—

“please let me in,” he says breathlessly, as if he was holding his breath waiting for you to open the door. “i know i probably don’t deserve a chance, and you probably don’t wanna hear me out, but…but please,” he licks his lips, grip tightening on the stems of the flowers, (you didn’t think he was listening when you told him your favourites all those months ago) “i miss you,” it’s quiet, the way he says it. he’s pleading with you.

there’s an ache in your chest, you’re trying not to mistake his tenderness for pity. and yet you still find yourself letting him in.

“okay,” it takes so little convincing. you missed him too.

there’s little talking at first, mostly just you and matt grabbing plates down and dishing yourselves out. he went to your favourite diner, because of course he did. the waffles are still warm and are making your kitchen smells like butter and sausage. you move your books and laptop out of the way to make room for the two of you to sit, elbows touching when you start to eat.

you’re half way through your first waffle when matt speaks up. you could feel him staring, his body half turned towards you in his chair. some of your hair falls into your face and his finger twitches before you tuck it away. all he wants to do it touch you. hold you, kiss you, anything. he’s such a jerk. 

“i’m sorry,” 

you freeze for a second, still facing away from him. after you finish chewing you set your fork down and turn slowly, finally looking him in the eyes. the blue has grown a shade too dark, melancholic. 

“for what?” you ask stupidly, just needing to know how he’s felt about it all.

“fuck, everything?” he says, forcefully pushing his hair away from his eyes. 

you shake your head and turn back to your plate.

“y/n,” he sighs, “c’mon look at me,”

you do, but it hurts.

“i’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant, and i’m sorry things got so out of hand and–and that…this went on for so long,” he gestures between the two of you, fixing his wild hair again.

“this?” you ask, voice breaking, thinking the worst, that he regrets it all, that it’s over. it’s really over.

“this stupid fucking dance we’ve been doing for four months, it’s crazy. it was always crazy.”

you huff, probably a little bit too dramatically as you shift to face him fully, “matt, what are you saying?”

“i’m saying that i like you! and it was so stupid to fucking…dilute that becuase i was scared or some shit,” the latter end of his sentence loses volume, he’s getting shy again.

“but–but you just wanted to be casual–” you start, looking down at your crossed legs.

“no, i never wanted to be fucking casual, i was just…. fuck i was just scared.” he says around a mouthful of waffle. the air smells like syrup. 

“i wanna be with you all the time, i like you so much– i just– at first i didn’t want things to be weird between us, which is why i thought a relationship was the wrong idea, but then we started…doing relationship things and it only got better.” he starts, messing with his hair and pushing his food around his plate, “after i stopped being so afraid of that i just, i got scared of another thing,” he finally looks up at you, eyes a little sad, a little heavy.

you can tell that he knows how he’s made you feel, and despite that you hate that he’s sad. you never want him to be sad.

matt continues, “i’d hate for you to get hurt because of my fans, and i knew it was gonna be hard to keep things private, to keep things…ours. i thought that was something i didn't wanna do or i wasn't ready for but…” he sighs, cutting himself off and taking in another big breath. you want to reach out and rub his back, knowing he’s anxious and just trying to calm himself down. 

“you being mad at me i can deal with,” he starts again, “you being mad, or–or upset because of me, is harder to handle, but fuck, not having you at all? that's worse than anything else we’d have to face,” he looks up, dead into your eyes to make sure you understand the weight of what he’s about to say, “together.”

“matt…” you whisper. you’ve forgotten about the food. it’s getting cold but it doesn’t matter.

he shakes his head before meeting your eyes again, “i’d rather go through all that bullshit with you than go through nothing without you,” he sounds so sincere that you think your heart skips a beat.

“what are you—”

“i wanna do this. for real.” he nods once, watching you closely.

“do you mean that?” he hates how doubtful you sound and he hates that he’s the one to have put all that doubt there. he thinks you might cry.

“y–yeah of course i mean it. i should have said it a long time ago, and if it makes you feel any better nick’s been giving me shit for like, two months, and i think chris wanted to beat me up last week.” he offers you half a smile, hoping you’ll give one back.

instead you breathe out laugh. he basks in it.

“i want you to be my girlfriend,” you’re looking down again and your hair falls from it’s place behind your ear. he doesn’t stop himself this time, nimble, ring adorned finger pushing it back, “i wanna be your boyfriend,”

you look up at him, studying his face for a second before you speak. he looks tired and a little worn, like he’s been thinking too much and too hard and worrying even more.

“yeah?” you finally say.

matt smiles at you. he has such a pretty smile.

“yeah.” he nods, smiling now.

“so we’re not just casual?”

matt scoffs out a laugh and stands. you stand too and he wraps his arms around you, tucking his chin atop your head when your arms go over his shoulders. he kisses your hair and breathes you in, the lingering scent of your shampoo and your perfume and you. it’s all over his clothes and his sheets, but nothing beats having you in his arms again. 

“we were never just causal,” he assures you, as if you didn’t know.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @cherrypostsposts

also tagging some of my faves (writers & other creators!!) 🥹 @pettydollie @wcters @grimholic @floristmatt (if you don’t wanna be tagged lmk!!)

[lilacwants]

casual.

18+ notes: this song tugs at my heart like no other... i love chappell so much :'( summary: you said, "baby, no attachment" but we're knee-deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out, is it casual now? warnings: a little angsty, mature/explicit content, homelander being homelander. word count: 1.6k

You’d always known that getting involved with Homelander was a dangerous game. From the very first moment you laid eyes on him, his charm had been undeniable, but so was the sense of danger that accompanied every smile, every touch. The problem was, that you couldn’t resist the pull. He was intoxicating, a deadly cocktail of power and allure that you couldn't escape from, no matter how hard you tried.

It all started casually enough, or at least that’s what you told yourself. A chance meeting at a charity gala, a few drinks, some flirtatious banter. But the connection was immediate and intense. Homelander— John, as he insisted you call him in private — had a way of making you feel like the centre of the universe, his blue eyes piercing through to your soul.

“Sweetheart, no attachment,” he’d whispered in your ear one night after a particularly passionate encounter. “This is just…casual.”

You’d nodded, even as your heart sank a little. You’d agreed to his terms because, let’s face it, who wouldn’t want even a piece of Homelander’s attention? But as the weeks passed, the lines between casual and something more started to blur.

One night, after a particularly late Vought meeting, he’d picked you up, taking you for a drive in his sleek black SUV. The city lights blurred past as you sat in the passenger seat, his hand resting on your thigh. The tension between you was palpable, the kind that made your skin tingle and your breath hitch.

“John, this isn’t exactly what I’d call casual,” you murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on your thigh.

He glanced over at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Why? Because you’re in my car?”

“No,” you replied, leaning closer. “Because you’re taking me out in public, letting people see us together. Doesn’t seem very ‘no attachment’ to me.”

He pulled over to the side of the road, turning off the engine. The sudden silence was almost deafening. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You're overthinking this, sweetheart,” he whispered before pulling you into a deep, bruising kiss.

The next thing you knew, you were knee-deep in the passenger seat, your dress hiked up around your waist, and John was eating you out with a fervour that made your head spin. His hands gripped your thighs, his tongue working it’s magic, but all you could think was, is it casual now?

A few weeks later, you found yourself being introduced to his close friends from Vought, a move that surprised you. They welcomed you with open arms, treating you like part of the group. As you sipped champagne and laughed at their stories, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a fling.

One evening, after a particularly long day, John showed up at your door with takeout and a bottle of wine. He looked exhausted, but his eyes lit up when he saw you. You spent the night on the couch, eating, drinking, and talking about everything and nothing.

“John, this doesn’t feel casual,” you said softly, your head resting on his shoulder.

He sighed, wrapping an arm around you. “Why does it have to be anything more than what it is?”

“Because I need to know where I stand,” you replied, looking up at him. “I need to know if I’m just another distraction for you or if this means something.”

He was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Sweetheart, I told you from the beginning that I don’t do attachments.”

“I know,” you said, your voice trembling. “But this doesn’t feel like no attachment to me.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Let’s just enjoy what we have,” he murmured. “No labels, no expectations.”

You wanted to argue, but the warmth of his embrace and the softness of his words melted your resolve. For now, you would take what you could get, even if it meant pretending this was enough.

Over the next few months, your relationship continued to evolve in ways you never expected. John was still adamant about keeping things casual, but his actions spoke louder than his words. He introduced you to more of his colleagues, took you on romantic getaways and even started leaving some of his things at your apartment.

It was hard being casual when your favourite bra lived in his dresser. You really, really tried to be the chill girlfriend, the one who held her tongue and gave him space. But to be honest, you weren’t and you didn’t even want to be one. Doubts were eating at your chest and you always felt a pang of hurt when he reminded you things between the two of you were simply casual. Nothing more.

You tried to ignore the nagging thoughts that crept into your mind during quiet moments. You tried to be satisfied with what you had, even as you found yourself wanting more. Every time he kissed you, a part of you couldn’t help but feel the anger simmering beneath the surface. He said it was casual, so why did it feel so much deeper?

“I’m just a girl that you bang on your couch, aren't I?” you blurted out one night, unable to keep it in any longer. “I thought you thought of me better. I thought I meant something to you.”

He looked at you, taken aback by your sudden outburst. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about?”

“You said, ‘We’re not together,’” you continued, tears streaming down your face. “So now when we kiss, i jut feel so bitter. I don’t want to be just another fling to you, John. I want to mean something.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered. “I care about you, more than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time.”

“Then why can’t you just admit that this is more than casual?” you demanded, pulling back to look at him. “Why can’t you admit that you love me?”

“Because I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I’m scared of losing you, of getting too close and having it all fall apart.”

You took a deep breath, wiping away your tears. “I’m scared too, John. But we can’t keep pretending that this is nothing. We can’t keep lying to ourselves.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and hope. “You’re right. I don’t want to lose you, sweetheart. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“Then let’s stop pretending,” you said softly. “Let’s stop hiding and start being honest with each other.”

From that moment on, everything changed. John was still the same intense, powerful man you’d fallen for, but there was a new softness to him, a willingness to open up and let you in. He started spending more time at your apartment, making it clear that he considered it home. You began to make plans for the future, talking about where you wanted to live, and the things you wanted to do together.

One warm evening, as you walked along the pier hand in hand, he stopped and turned to you, a serious look in his eyes. “Sweetheart, I want you to know something.”

“What is it?” you asked, your heart racing.

“I’m in love with you,” he said simply. “I know I haven’t said it before, but it’s true. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Tears filled your eyes as you smiled up at him. “I love you too, John. So much.”

He pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply as the sun set behind you. At that moment, everything felt perfect. For the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

As the months turned into years, your relationship continued to grow stronger. You moved into his luxurious penthouse, now filled with love and laughter. John was still the same hero the world adored, but to you, he was just John—the man who held your heart.

But as you settled into your new life together, there were moments of doubt. Homelander’s public persona often clashed with the man you knew in private. There were times when his temper flared, when his need for control threatened to overshadow everything else. You had arguments, some more intense than others, but each time, he would come back, apologizing, promising to do better.

One particularly bad night, he came home late, his face a mask of anger and frustration. “Sweetheart, why can’t you just understand that I’m trying?”

You stood your ground, your eyes glossy. “John, I do understand. But you can’t keep shutting me out whenever things get tough.”

“I’m not shutting you out,” he snapped, his eyes blazing.

“Then what do you call this?” you demanded, gesturing to the space between you. “We’re supposed to be in this together.”

He looked at you, his expression softening. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know how to do this.”

You took a deep breath, stepping closer. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

He nodded, pulling you into his arms. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“And you won’t,” you whispered, holding him tightly. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

The road ahead wasn’t easy, but you faced it together. With time, you learned to navigate the complexities of your relationship, finding a balance between the man he was and the hero the world needed. You built a life filled with love, trust, and understanding, knowing that no matter what challenges came your way, you would face them side by side.

In the end, love was anything but casual. It was messy, complicated, and beautiful. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that no matter what, this man held your heart in the palm of his hand. You will always love him, as Homelander or as John. You just can't help it.

[dumbseee]

oh shit.

pro hero!bakugo who has a crush on you.

pro hero!bakugo katsuki x idol!reader.

genre: fluff

__

- the first time bakugo agreed to do an interview was because todoroki and izuku were also there. the top three heroes were asked all sorts of questions before the journalist finally asked thee question. "so~ you guys are so private, we don’t really know much about you. so let’s get to know our top three heroes! first question, who is your celebrity crush?" she asked, a smirk on her lips as she looked at the three heroes in front of her. izuku blushed, fumbling with his answer, todoroki crossed his arms on his chest, saying that he had no time for that kind of stuff, and bakugo scoffed, crossing his legs on the small table in front of them. "celebrity crush? do you have other shitty questions or are we done?" he glared at the interviewer who nearly melted on the spot. izuku elbowed his friend and offered an awkward smile to the poor woman. "but aren’t you a big fan of y/n? i heard you sing her songs under the shower, one time." shoto chimed in, face blank. "what?! no! what are you saying ice hot?! i’ll fucking crush your face, come here!" bakugo jumped from his seat and had to be restrained by izuku and a few security guards, meanwhile shoto sat there, wondering what he did wrong this time.

- the interview went viral, with everyone making fun of the mighty dynamight and his little crush on you. he nearly sent shoto to the moon after seeing all those edits of you and him on social media or your fans calling him the president of the fandom. your fans are even shipping you together! and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. he actually made a fake twitter and tiktok account where he’d like and favourite every single edit/tweet about you. he’d be smiling and blushing like a high schooler in the dark of his room.

- he has a locked drawer in his room, where he keeps all your albums and merch. he’d literally set on fire whoever manage to open it and discover his little secret.

- he spent hours in front of his phone, the screen showing your dm page on instagram, he wanted to dm you so bad. make the first move and try to get close to you, but bakugo was a coward, as funny as it sounded, bakugo was very intimidated by you. he ended up throwing his phone away, he’d try again tomorrow.

- one day he got called for an incident involving a woman and someone who tried to break into her house. nothing major so bakugo went alone, imagine his shock when he saw that the victim was you and the man was your stalker who’s been following you and harassing you for months. he immediately saw red and grabbed the man, slammed him to the ground and threatened to shove a bomb down his ass if he moved. "are you okay?" when you saw dynamite arrive from your window, you immediately ran outside, since you felt safe with the hero around. you hugged yourself and nodded, looking down at the shaking man, but bakugo didn’t believe you. soon enough, police arrived to arrest the man and everyone left, leaving you alone with bakugo. "he’ll leave you alone now, i’ll make sure of it." he smiled gently, putting a hand on your shoulder you forced a smile but slowly lost it when you saw him getting ready to leave. you quickly grabbed his hand and looked at him with pleading eyes, the sight made his heart jump. "please, will you stay with me?" how could he say no?

- bakugo couldn’t get rid of the pink color decorating his cheeks. it was the first time he met his celebrity crush and bakugo wished it was different. he wished he came earlier so you wouldn’t even be aware that your stalker was trying to break into your home. you offered him some food and water but he declined everything, you were getting ready for bed when the incident happened so you were exhausted from practice and rehearsal. you also felt bad for keeping him with you when he was clearly busy or tired from patrolling. "i’m so sorry for bothering you, i know he won’t come back, but i’m still terrified." you played with your hand and felt tears burning your eyes. "don’t. you don’t have to be ashamed for feeling scared, but trust me when i say this, this bastard won’t ever come close to you again." he said it in such a low tone, you thought you imagined it. you nodded and hugged him, which surprised him to no end and also made him as red as a tomato. he didn’t know what to do with his hands so he simply put them around your waist, gently patting your back.

- you fell asleep with the light on, bakugo was sitting on the chair next to your bed and kept his eye on you. he stayed with you till the sun woke up. he noticed every detail of your face, the small freckles decorating your beautiful nose, your long and dark lashes, your full and soft lips and overall your beautiful face. you were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman bakugo had ever seen in his life. while looking at you, he felt a weird sense of possessiveness and protection wash over him. he wanted to protect you and make sure no one would ever hurt you again.

- when you woke up, you saw a small note on your nightstand, "had to leave for work pretty girl, but don’t worry i’ll see you soon. here’s my number: xxx - xxx - xxx" you didn’t know why but you smiled at his note. of course, you immediately registered his number and sent him a lovely text, thanking him again for yesterday and inviting him for dinner some day. you also signed it "your celebrity crush (;" bakugo almost choke on his coffee when he read your text.

[sweetteainthesummerx]

begin again!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

series masterlist!

pairings: popstar!reader x quinn hughes

warnings: mutual pining, fluff, slight angst, toxic past relationships

summary: you find love, for real this time.

word count: 1.2 k

notes: new writing! ty for all of ur patience

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you're in the club, eyes red-rimmed and feet sore.

four months since you've broken up with your boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend.

the song lyrics and scribbled pen-inked paper around your piano in your apartment shows for it.

even now, as a remix of one of your songs plays loudly (the over zealous dj definitely saw you and probably hopes he gets signed or something), you chest twists.

the things he's done, it makes you question if love is real. your friends insist that it does, and you humour them with a complacent, teeth-bared smile.

your mind is in overdrive; this is good for your career, terrible for your gear-shifting mind.

and because you're a woman in a man's field, you thank the universe for leaking his texts with his co-star during your tour: you've been going viral and garnering an insane amount of attention.

although people are sympathizing with you, you just want to be loved. loved without hesitations and loved with careful hands and words.

you've been working your butt of to take your mind off of your quarter life crisis, but between the european leg of the tour and the north american one, you take a break when your family begs you to.

so now, you're out with your girls, wishing you were on your couch with a glass of expensive red, maybe with your guitar.

anywhere but here, where the booming music and smell of tequila reminds you so much of him. you sigh self-deprecatingly, that should've been your first red flag.

rainie, your best friend, notices your stiffness, and the blankness your eyes are covered by.

she hates your ex. he took a lovely, soft and kind soul and absolutely pushed you over the edge with all of his lying, cheating and manipulating. she is never letting you date an actor ever again.

she swears she's going to make sure that you're happy: even if it doesn't involve love, she just wants you to be you again.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

"hey, hun. i know you're tired," your manager says, and grimaces when you throw her a dirty glare, "but some of the canucks team is here, and they have a jersey for you. before you say anything-" you groan, "just like, two pictures!"

you know it'll be at least thirty minutes, but you agree, because your dad would be upset (ever since you were little a game was always on at your house) and you are from vancouver, so this is good for press.

you walk out, the mini skirt and bedazzled tank combo along with cute platform boots cutting into your sore body.

because you are kind (your manager is clasping her hands in thanks) and very well pr trained, you smile, shake hands, take pictures for daughters and nieces.

lastly, a gravelly voice says your name.

you turn, and you see an attractive, tall man. he's dark-haired, with big, sad puppy eyes and pale skin. he looks nothing like your ex, but you can't help stare at his pretty features.

"hi...?" you offer him a smile, and his ears turn as red as the bow in your hair.

"oh-sorry. i'm quinn. quinn hughes." he scratches his neck, hastily giving you his hand to shake.

cute, you think, as his much larger hand completely envelopes yours.

"he's our captain," the team manager beams, handing you a blue and green jersey.

he bashfully shrugs, and you can feel yourself melt. he's so endearing, with his calm demeanor and pink cheeks.

the photographer instructs him to put his arm around you as you hold up the jersey.

and this man, oh my, he asks for your permission.

you probably most definitely know way too many douchebags, because you can't remember the last time a man has done this.

when you nod shyly, he huffs out a breath and slides a hand respectfully to the middle of your back. he helps you adjust your hair so his hand doesn't catch onto it, and the two of you smile together.

the photo receives an alarming amount of likes, and you're pleasantly surprised when he texts you later that night.

quinn

hi, your manager gave me your number when you had to leave early. i hope that's okay :)

you silently thank your manager and her meddling.

you

ofc! sorry i had to rush off

quinn

no worries

i just wanted to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime

you

oh!

yeah okay that sounds good

might have to wait for another month though

i have to finish tour first :(

quinn

i'll wait however long i have to

sorry, i have to go i have a game tmrw

goodnight, sleep well :)

you shut your phone off, realizing with a start you've got a wide smile plastered on your face. suddenly, you're wary about him: what if he's like your ex? what if he breaks your carefully stitched up heart?

then something tells you that this boy is special, so you breathe deep and take a leap of faith.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

quinn finds you in the crowd of people at the bar, slipping an arm around your shoulders and giving you a kiss on the cheek in greeting.

after the two of you had met, you had texted for weeks before actually meeting up in person at a cafe near your apartment.

quinn listens to your stories about tour, tells his own about his brothers and the shenanigans they get up to.

he's funny, you realize, in a subtle, deadpan way that intelligent people are. he looks at you with his pretty eyes and insists on paying for your drink despite your protests.

soon enough, you find yourself at his apartment after his games, cooking dinner together and watching stupid movies. he reads the book on his coffee table to you, and lets you tuck your cold feet under his thigh.

you learn things about each other: he memorizes your scent, vanilla and ball point pen ink, you curiously graze his book shelf, his taller figure hovering behind you.

your mutual friends meet at the bar you now all frequent, and you watch with a smile as rainie argues with a hoard of massive hockey players.

"hi," you coo at him, two drinks in, and he grins, smoothing his thumb over your going out top. he asks about the song production meeting you had, and listens intently has you drunkenly ramble.

you'd started to wonder why he hasn't made a move on you yet.

you'd asked him that one night, and he had looked at you with so much candy-melded affection; silently, he ran a rough hand gently up your calf. he told you that he cares about you: he wants to get everything right, because that's what you deserve.

so now, you find yourselves in a standstill, knowing you definitely like each other, but learning to be together as friends first.

however, the way he glares at any guy that comes within three feet of you tonight doesn't feel very friendly.

that night, he drives you home. you try to press - a friendly - kiss to his cheek, but you wobble on your heels and it lands more on the corner of his lips.

his eyes darken, like the way they do when you lick you fingers while cooking, or when you wear particularly short shorts.

you steady yourself on his biceps, giggling as he unlocks your door and practically carries you inside. as you scratch at the base of his neck, he gently pushes you against the wall of the entrance way.

he crowds around you, nosing at your neck. you welcome his scent, masculine and warm, and your hands find their way to his face, cupping his jaw.

your lips meet, and something clicks into place.

you sigh happily, his mouth nudging and exploring against yours. you've never felt so desired, so safe, and you murmur that against his lips.

quinn nips at the softness of your earlobe and almost shudders all over.

"i'm going to keep you," he tells you.

you laugh, and bring him closer to you.

you plan on keeping him too.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★