#i swear i read one a few months ago idk

[kevindaes]

are there any shadowhunter au aftg fics or am i making things up

[in-my-feels-probably]

Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

I Feel So High School (Every Time I Look At You)

Request: Older Art spoiling his 20 something yo girlfriend that goes to Stanford. She looks up to him and listens to him and does whatever he says and basically lives for his praise.

and: art being 10ish years older than reader? that’s all i got. go crazy

Hi! Challengers has been on my mind literally since the day it came out, and I think I've read every single fic on here about it, so I figured I’d give it a shot writing one myself. First of all, I combined your requests, hope that’s ok. Second, this is my first time writing for Art, so please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing his character. I haven’t written a fic in weeks, so my skills are definitely a little rusty. Please be kind! Anyways, I hope you like this. Let me know what you think, and thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: none? idk, maybe very vague mentions of sex, art is divorced, swearing, i guess the age gap taboo. let me know if i missed anything)

—

You should have known trying to explain your situation with Art to someone else would’ve been difficult, but finally telling your roommate everything was just as humiliating as you thought it would be. She always had a knack for nosing her way into your business, and not even you were immune to her federal level detective skills when it came to getting information out of someone. 

“And I’m seeing him today,” you finished your rant as you sucked in a breath, wincing as you waited for the bomb to drop.

But it didn’t. Your roommate just grinned, standing up and walking over to your closet. You watched with a confused look on your face until she turned to you, already elbow deep in your clothes.

“So…you have a sugar daddy?” your roommate asked, trying to stifle a laugh as she rifled through your closet to help you find an outfit. “No judgment, I’m honestly jealous.”

You picked a pillow up off your bed, launching it at her when she smirked as you flushed. “I don’t have a sugar daddy! I have a…well—ok, I don’t know what we are. But he’s not my sugar daddy.”

“No, he’s just an ex pro tennis player with a famous ex wife who was also a pro tennis player that he had a perfect little girl with, complete with a house in the Hamptons. Now, he’s…what, exactly? A coach? A commentator? Part of Stanford’s glorified alumni? No, I’ve got it! I know what he is — hot. In a beekeeping age, recently divorced, kind of way.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up to help her look through your closet. “He’s only in his thirties. You’re making him sound archaic and washed up.”

“Look at you, gushing over him,” she grinned as she finally landed on something for you to wear, quickly handing it to you. “At least he has good taste. You’re hot, too.”

Your roommate turned around while you quickly changed, sitting down at the foot of your bed. She talked over her shoulder as you got dressed, her voice full of curiosity.

“So, how did this all happen anyway?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Remember alumni week with all the guest lectures and presentations a few months ago?”

“You met Art Donaldson during alumni week? What the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have skipped all my classes that week if I thought I was gonna pick up a trophy husband instead of being forced to sit through a mind-numbingly boring presentation from some guy who used to go here that I’ve never heard of.”

“Sucks to suck, babe,” you grinned, finished getting dressed. “I’m good, you can turn around now.”

She quickly turned around, patting the spot on the bed next to her.

“How did this even happen? I’ve never seen you step foot on a tennis court in your life, and I know they wouldn’t have asked him to speak in a graduate lecture.”

You sat down next to her, nodding. “He did a seminar down at the courts for the kinesiology majors or something like that. They were learning about sports related injuries and how to treat them. He told them about how he hurt his shoulder a few years ago during a match, and he talked about all the physical therapy he had to do.”

“You’re telling me you sat through a kinesiology lecture? On a tennis court? When you don’t even study kinesiology?”

“Absolutely not,” you laughed, leaning back against the headboard. “He told me about it that first week while he was here.”

Your roommate giggled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Oh my god! Okay, okay. Spill. Now. I want to know everything.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, but started ranting again anyway. 

—

In truth, you didn’t really know what your relationship with Art was. You’d met when returning alumni who’d gone on to excel in their fields came to campus for guest lectures and demonstrations.

In a total mortifying cliche, you ran into Art in a hallway while you were rushing to a lecture that had already started ten minutes earlier. You would have been on time, but your roommate accidentally locked herself out of your dorm, and the RA wasn’t answering their phone. She had an exam she needed to get to, which—in her own words—“trumps your boring book lecture.” You had no choice but to turn around and save her, making the trek back across campus to let her in. That’s how you ended up running face first into Art, your bag and all your things scattering across the floor. By some miracle, at least the halls were empty.

You quickly kneeled, scrambling to pick up all your things. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m late for class.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, kneeling to help you.

It was then when you looked up, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. Art Donaldson—famous alumni and world renowned tennis player—was crouched right in front of you, handing you half empty tubes of chapstick, a pair of headphones, and a stray pack of gum. Oh god, you thought to yourself. Why me? Why today? You quickly cleared your throat, standing up.

“God, sorry. Thanks…Mr. Donaldson.”

You cringed as you said it, the title of Mr. feeling off as it rolled off your tongue.

“Mr. Donaldson?” he raised a brow, shaking his head. “No, just call me Art. Uh, you know who I am? Am I actually still recognizable here? I figured no one off of the courts would have any idea who I was.”

You glanced down at his shirt, pointing. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Art paled, raising a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his neck. Good one, he thought to himself. Very humble. He cringed to himself as his cheeks flushed, a small smile on his face.

“Right. I knew that.”

You smiled, pulling your bag back over your shoulder as you let out a little chuckle. “I know who you are. Stanford never lets us forget about their prized students.”

“Ah,” he nodded, grinning. “In my day, it was Reese Witherspoon and Jennifer Connelly. Although, Reese dropped out halfway through her degree, so they don’t talk about her much—”

“And Jennifer left Yale to come study here,” you finished. “That’s one they do still brag about.”

Art smiled, leaning back against the wall as he looked at you. You suddenly became very aware of your situation, tearing your eyes away from him to look down the hall where your class was. Art’s eyes followed, and he straightened up, clearing his throat.

“Am I keeping you?”

“No!” you said all too quickly, biting your tongue for a second before you forced yourself to calm down and continue. “Uh, my class already started. It’s not really important, he doesn’t count attendance anyway. And, to be honest, he’s pretty dull. He managed to make Jane Austen boring.”

“Not Bazin’s class, is it?” Art asked, making you raise a brow.

“Yeah, it is. How’d you know that?”

Art smiled, letting out a little laugh. “That’s why I came this way, I wanted to see if Professor Bazin still taught English here. He was a dinosaur even when I graduated. I’m surprised they still let him teach.”

“If they actually read the end of term course evaluations they make us fill out, they wouldn’t,” you mused, making Art grin wider.

“I guess I should let you go then,” Art shrugged, glancing down the hall. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on something you could use in your scathing evaluation.”

You glanced back down the hallway at your classroom, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t want to go just yet. 

All you did at Stanford was go to and from class and stay on top of your studies. It was monotonous and boring, and you were always up to your neck in papers and projects. Other than your roommate, you hardly had any people left you talked to or hung out with. They all graduated with their undergrad degrees, and you moved on to your graduate studies. Your education was important to you, but it got lonely. You almost never took risks anymore. But as you glanced back at him, that’s what you did.

You took the risk.

“Or…you could save me from my misery?” you stuttered out, an awkward smile on your face.

Art looked at you with an amused expression, tilting his head as he waited for you to continue. You swallowed, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“My classes are almost all entirely in this building. I’m sure you’re sick of talking about tennis, but between here and my dorm, I don’t think I see enough sunlight in a day to keep me going. Maybe you could walk with me somewhere that actually sees the sun? Doesn’t have to be the courts or anything, although I can say with full confidence that I’ve never actually seen that part of campus and I’m in my graduate studies. Uh, maybe you’ve got somewhere in mind? Or you could let me buy you a cup of shitty cafeteria coffee? I promise I’ll refrain from asking you about your career. But, as I’m sure you can tell just by looking at me, I don’t really know enough about tennis to ask anyway.”

As you rambled on, horrified by your own rambling but determined to put yourself out there, Art smiled. 

He’d met a lot of girls over the years. Some girls who had a genuine interest in him but didn’t last, and some who saw his fame and fortune as a one way ticket to an easy life. 

None of them mattered. 

He had married Tashi, head over heels from the first moment he saw her. He had a kid with her, a career with her, a seemingly picture perfect life with her. It didn’t even occur to him to look at other girls until his marriage started to strain under the weight of his career, and he’d almost forgotten what it was like to look at a girl for the first time and feel that sickening but addictive feeling of butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. After the divorce, it felt so foreign to him that he didn’t even try. He had resigned himself to being a single father who co-parents and lives the rest of his life comfortably and quietly.

But here you were, rambling on with flushed cheeks and bright eyes trying your hardest to ask him out, and he couldn’t be more captivated.

There was just something about you. You were pretty, obviously. Anyone with eyes would’ve been able to see that. But there was something else, too. You were still young and not entirely pessimistic yet, with your whole career ahead of you. Probably no more than a few heartbreaks under your belt, able to muster up some sort of courage to fight for what you wanted. He used to have that, and he missed it — admired it, even. As you finally cut yourself off and looked up at him with mortification written across your face, Art saved you from further embarrassment with a smile. 

“Um…coffee sounds good,” he said with a shy smile. “Not from the cafeteria, though. If it’s as bad as it was when I went here, I’m not gonna let you waste your meal card money on it. There’s a cart outside of the athletics center, I stopped by it this morning. It’s still good.”

Trying your best to mask the shock you were feeling by his answer, you quickly nodded. “Oh, okay. Sounds good.”

You spent the entire afternoon with him. Coffee turned into lunch, and lunch turned into a long walk. Although you both had things to do, neither of you wanted to say goodbye and go on with your day. You skipped the rest of your classes for the day, letting Art show you around campus. He took you to all the places you had never been, and you kept quiet and let him show you anyway when you passed somewhere you had already been a hundred times. He was polite and asked you about your major and career goals, even managing a graceful smile when it was his turn to tell you about his career and how it unfolded after he graduated. He was careful to leave out the end, but he found himself comfortable enough to tell you about the first few years. You asked what you could, but you really didn’t know enough about the sport to ask much of anything.

“I’m boring you to death, aren’t I?” he asked when there was a lapse in silence after you passed a poster with his face on it for a Wimbledon campaign.

“No, not at all!” you replied, tilting your head up towards the poster. “I’m just wondering how you managed it.”

Art cocked a brow, turning towards you. “Managed what?”

“Not becoming a complete asshole,” you shrugged, making him burst out laughing. “I’m serious! You’re not the first celebrity to come here during alumni week. The difference between you and them is that you didn’t show up and immediately start bragging about how successful you had become. As far as I can tell, you’re the same as when you graduated. That seems pretty rare.”

“There’s not much to brag about,” he shrugged, too humble for his own good.

“A career Grand Slam isn’t worth bragging about?” you asked, turning away from him when he gave you a confused look. “Okay, fine, I may or may not have Googled you back in the restaurant while you were in the bathroom. I was running out of things to ask you, and I figured I should know something about tennis. Anyway, I was impressed.”

Art just chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

After walking a few more minutes, the street lamps turned on. It had gotten late enough in the evening that they were starting to light up around the darker parts of the campus. It was your cue to stop walking and look around, both of you realizing how long it had been since you started talking.

“I guess I should be headed back to my dorm,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice. “My roommate is probably freaking out by now. She knows I never really go anywhere after class without her—and yes, I heard how pathetic that sounded as it came out. She’s probably gonna call campus security if I don’t show up soon.”

Art nodded, knowing you were right. And yet, his feet didn’t move. Neither of you made any attempt to leave, still standing under the soft light of the street lamps. Art looked at you with soft eyes, absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring with his thumb before he remembered it wasn’t there anymore. Finally, he cleared his throat. 

“Well…I guess this is the part where I ask you for your number.”

“It was nice meeting you, too—” you started, doing a double take once his words registered. “Wait, what?”

Art let out a nervous laugh, shrugging. “You bought me a coffee, it’s only fair that I do the same. I’m here all week. Maybe you’d want to do this again sometime?”

“Uh, yeah! Yeah, that sounds good,” you replied, trying your best and failing to sound as nonchalant as you could.

Art smiled and pulled out his phone, opening his contacts. He handed it over to you, watching as you typed in your number before handing his phone back to him. You fought the heat pooling in your cheeks, fiddling with the strap of your bag. Art grinned, breaking the silence. 

“Go find your roommate. Tell her to call off the search party.”

You chuckled, nodding. “I’m on it. Well…bye, Art.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll text you,” he replied, enjoying watching you shuffle back and forth on your heels. 

He made you nervous. And for some reason, he liked that. He’d spent practically the last decade of his life perpetually nervous. It was nice to know someone else felt the same way. 

He watched you go as you turned around and headed back to your dorm, a distant but still familiar warmth in his chest. He’d only known you for a few hours, but he could already tell he liked you. By the time you made it back to your dorm and managed to come up with an excuse for your roommate who immediately interrogated you the second you stepped through the door, your phone was ringing. You excused yourself to the bathroom with a bashful grin on your face, answering the call.

—

You spent the better part of a week with Art when you both had time between your classes and his seminars. 

It felt surprisingly easy and normal talking to him. Your small talk about your careers and plans turned into more personal topics, and then you were talking about anything and everything. You were fully aware of the age gap between you two, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much as you thought it would. If anything, it was part of the draw to him. He was also kind and friendly, with a surprisingly self deprecating sense of humor that made you laugh. Not to mention the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous. You had to actively make sure he didn’t catch you staring at him when his head was turned. He made you want to actually giggle out loud, which is something you never thought you’d do over a guy.

By the end of the week when it was time for him to leave and go back to New York, you both were dreading saying goodbye. 

It was late in the evening, about an hour before he had to leave to catch his flight. He’d finally taken you to the courts, once again only lit by the street lamps overhead. It was the first time all week he’d stepped onto the court and actually wanted to be there, not surrounded by onlookers who knew every nook and cranny of his life and career. Instead it was you, the sweet pretty girl who made him genuinely laugh when you asked him why the points system would ever use the term love to describe a lacking score. 

He fiddled around for a while, teaching you a few serves and how to hold the racquet to hit the ball. Eventually he was on the other side of the net, watching you giggle and chase after the few balls he’d softly serve your way. He could hear you panting and the sound of your shoes skidding across the court, but your laughter was too sweet to make him stop. 

Finally, you stopped to take a break, sitting down on the bench. “Don’t look at me, I might cough up a lung.”

“Very impressive,” he smiled, passing you his water.

“Thank you,” you grinned, motioning between him in the court. “Go on, let’s see what you’ve got. I’m down for the count, but I’m sure the ball machine will be more than happy to fill in for me.”

Art smiled, watching you grin at him with flushed cheeks and glowy skin. If anyone else was asking, he wouldn’t have done it. He wasn’t interested in showing off his skills, or lack thereof to put it more accurately as of late — he’d stopped training as intensely after the divorce, no new tournaments waiting for him to come and win. But the look on your face when you asked was just one he couldn’t say no to. Plus, your knowledge of the sport wasn’t that vast. You probably wouldn’t notice if he slipped up anyway. And if you did, you’d be too kind to make him feel bad about it.

“If you insist,” he groaned, but he was still smiling to himself as he moved to the other side of the court.

You watched him play for a few more minutes. He really was something to see. Every movement he made was smooth and graceful, a far cry from the stumbling around and huffing and puffing you had been doing. Every ball hit its target, every serve lining up exactly where he wanted it to. As silly as it sounded, you actually had to prevent yourself from clapping once he finally slowed down and turned the machine off.

“Look at you go,” you smiled from the bench, handing him back his water as he walked back over.

His cheeks flushed pink, and he was silently praying you couldn’t see it from under the low lights. He was too busy getting all flustered to reply to you, and it made you smile. It was silent for a long moment as you stared at each other, before he finally stood up. You followed him, a sinking feeling in your gut as you realized that it was probably time to say goodbye.

It had been a week you had never even dreamed would’ve happened to you, and yet it did. The one risk you decided to take had led to the most fun you’d had in your entire time at Stanford. You didn’t want to see him go.

As you looked up at him with soft eyes and a melancholy look on your face, like you were looking to him for all the answers, Art felt a sharp tug in his chest. He found himself immediately wanting to fix it, wanting to make you smile again — smile because of him. He’d have done anything in that moment to get you to laugh again.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned in and kissed you. 

It was a spur of the moment decision, one he almost immediately regretted. But then he felt you sink into the kiss, your hands coming up to his waist to steady yourself. He cupped your cheeks and pulled you into him, unable to stop the smile spreading across his lips. 

And that was all it took — he was falling, and falling hard. 

—

That was months ago now, and yet, Art still found reasons to visit you. 

When there was lapses in tours, or it was Tashi’s week with Lily, he always somehow found himself ending up coming right back to you. He’d pick you up from your dorm, and you’d spend the entire day with him. On weekends, you ended up in whatever hotel he was staying at, telling your roommate you were going back home for a few days. When you weren’t together, you were constantly texting or calling. He even sent a postcard once when the ATP took him to Europe. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face all day when you got it in the mail. 

You hadn’t exactly put a label on the relationship, but it was clear to the both of you that you meant more to each other than either of you cared to admit out loud. Quite a bit more, actually.

And Art wasn’t stupid — he knew what your relationship looked like. 

Recently divorced, a younger woman by his side. If they knew, the media would paint him as one of two options: an easily manipulated victim of a gold digger, or a washed up athlete who split with his wife that was now taking what he could get, the younger and prettier the better. 

But that wasn’t it at all for Art.

It wasn’t just sex, or a new pretty face. You were something different. A breath of fresh air. Someone who didn’t care about his career or money or fame. You had no interest in what he could offer you, or what you could get out of him. You never made him feel pressured to do anything or talk about anything he didn’t want to. He’d spent so many years craving a sense of normalcy and peace. Time and time again, he’d wanted to go to Tashi and beg for a break in his routine. But, always too afraid to disappoint her and everyone else watching him, he stayed quiet. He never got a break. As odd as it was to say, that’s what you were to him when he met you — a break. A minute to breathe, a moment to relax. He always felt that way around you.

Simply put, he was head over heels for you. He didn’t think he’d feel like that for another woman after Tashi until he met you, and it shocked him how easily the feeling came to him.

And it wasn’t just him that had fallen. 

You practically hung on every word he said, and soaked up every ounce of praise he gave you. You had never been with someone like him before. Someone so experienced and sure of himself, but just as gentle and patient as he was sure. He made you laugh and smile, and he made you feel safe. For whatever reason he had taken interest in you, you didn’t care, you just didn’t want it to stop. You clung to it, enjoying it while it lasted.

And if either of you had anything to say about it, it would last.

—

By the time you finished explaining your relationship with Art to your roommate, she was already pushing you out the door. 

“Go, go, go,” she squealed, tossing you your keys. “Wait!”

She wrapped her hand around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as she glanced down at the outfit she chose. “Is that a new dress? Did he buy you a dress? Oh my god, please tell me he has a brother.”

“Not sure,” you grinned, smoothing your hand down your front. “Show up to alumni week next time and find out.”

You were already pressing a kiss to her cheek and rushing down the hall before she could get out another word, giggling as you made your way to the stairs.

On the drive over to the hotel, the nerves in your stomach were making you nervously tap your fingers on the steering wheel. You must’ve got caught by every stop light, making the trip even longer. You were practically vibrating once you finally pulled into the parking lot, grabbing your bag and hurrying inside before your nerves got the better of you and made you stand like an idiot in the lobby, trying to muster up the courage to get in the elevator. You coasted on autopilot as you forced your feet to lead you upstairs to his floor, all the way down to his door. You only came back into your body when you raised a hand to knock on the door, pausing to take a deep breath.

Just knock, you thought to yourself. You’re a big girl. Just knock.

You had barely even knocked twice on the door before the door swung open, and you came face to face with Art. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you took a second to take him in. Still as pretty as you remembered, and every bit as alluring. You could feel yourself melting. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Art let out a sigh of relief, like it was the first good breath he had taken in weeks. A genuine smile crept onto his face as he reached for you, practically making grabby hands like a child. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

You tried and failed to stifle a giggle, immediately burying yourself in his chest. You let out a hmph as you pressed your cheek against him, your arms wrapping tightly around his waist. You could feel his thumb running along the bare skin of your arm, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He nudged the door closed with his foot, tugging your bag from your shoulder and setting it on the floor without even letting you go. He was warm to the touch, and steady against you. He hummed into your hair, squeezing you tighter.

“There she is,” he murmured, letting out a small laugh. “My girl.”

“Hi, baby,” you giggled, the sound making his heart soar in his chest. 

He slowly walked you backwards to the bed, supporting most of your weight as you laid down. He was quick to follow, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. His arms hooked lazily around your waist, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

This is what you both had been waiting for. This feeling, this moment. Just this.

“You look very pretty today,” he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss where his lips rested. “All this for me?”

The humor in his voice made you grin, your fingers running through his hair. “Couldn’t let you be that pretty all by yourself.”

Art smiled, pressing his face further into your neck as he let out a breath. You tightened your grip around him, holding him close. You let your eyes close, resting your cheek against the top of his head. 

A comfortable silence fell over the both of you, as easy as it ever was.

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for your patience. I keep rereading this and editing it over and over, I’m not totally happy with it. But something is better than nothing, and I’m tired of staring at, so here you go! Hope this is ok, let me know what you think :)

[hysteria-things]

TOUR (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x reader (definition of a titty man)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you surprise your boyfriend at his last show of the versus tour. you obviously had to wear the dress to it, but too bad matt has to wait until the show is over to do what he’s been wanting to do for a month.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT but fluffy, swearing, titty fucking, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,245

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: you guys are the literal best omg.

idk how i feel about this one but i do have a shit ton in the works that i can’t wait to share😇

the flight from LA to ft. lauderdale was close to five hours, and you were jet lagged.

especially since you had to take a late flight which didn’t help either.

now, you’re sitting in the uber that picked you up from the airport and texting nick.

it was his idea to have you fly out and surprise matt since everybody else is going to be there. chris knows too, and since he’s a blabber mouth at best, you specifically told him if he tells matt your secret you’ll cut his dick off.

by some miracle, nick and chris successfully snuck you to your room.

you didn’t bother unpacking your suitcase. instead, you kicked off your shoes and knocked out with your clothes still on.

it took a few knocks at the door to realize you weren’t dreaming them to fully wake you up. you groan, rubbing your eyes and shuffling to the door. “y/n! wakey, wakey.”

you open it, revealing a smiling nick with a brown bag in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. he holds them up in front of you.

“i got you food and your favorite iced coffee from dunkin’.” he says. “i can’t stay long because we’re heading to the venue soon, and you have to get fueled up. i know how jet lag can be.”

“thank you, nick,” you reply graciously, grabbing the things from his hands.

“i’ll send you the address and all that.” he tells you, turning 180° before spinning back to face you again. “also, you better have brought something stunning to wear. matt might actually faint from all the surprises you’ll be throwing at him all at once.”

he winks at you before going into the elevator to meet the others.

of course, you brought something stunning to wear. looking in the mirror, you’re wearing a navy blue dress. it’s the navy blue dress you were wearing in the photos matt jerked off to when you guys were on the phone.

you walk into the hidden door that leads backstage. the boys were there plus nate and justin. nobody noticed you yet, and you wanted to keep it that way.

you heard matt talking to nate about how he’ll be his teammate, but the conversation mostly consisted of nate giving a lecture about how to not fuck up jenga.

you cross your arms and lean against the doorway. “maybe if you didn’t yank the jenga blocks out, the tower would stay up.”

their voices die down in milliseconds and turn to face you.

“what the fuck?” matt questions blankly. it seems like he’s trying to comprehend if he’s hallucinating or if you’re really here in ft. lauderdale standing in front of him.

when it clicks in his head that you’re indeed not a hallucination, he comes running over to you and engulfs you in a big hug.

he lifts you from the floor and holds on even tighter, not caring about the other people in the room.

to him, this moment is just about you.

“you’re not being slick, you know.” he whispers in your ear.

“what do you mean?” you reply in the same tone innocently, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.

he doesn’t respond and puts you back on the ground. he glances up and down your body, before chris speaks up. “hate to break up this reunion, but we got small talk in like five minutes.”

matt has you underneath him flat on your back, the tour bus bunk is a little too small for the both of you.

your legs are wrapped around his torso as his lips hungrily kiss yours. the show ended an hour or two ago, and when everybody got settled into their hotel rooms, he snuck you on the tour bus.

his hands rub around your boobs and give a light squeeze, pulling his lips away from yours with a hum.

“remember when i said i wanted to fuck your tits?” he asks with his swollen red lips, not taking his eyes off of you as he starts to unbuckle his belt.

you lick your lips and nod.

“i wasn’t kidding.”

he yanks down his undergarments and pumps himself a few times to get fully hard. he takes the neckline of your dress and pulls it down to expose your breasts.

he groans at the site, fiddling them before adjusting himself so his tip is right under your boobs.

he pushes them together and slides in between them, throwing his head back and moaning. “oh, fuck.”

unlike the rest of your body, they are warm and cushioning, causing matt’s dick to throb at the feeling.

he doesn’t waste time and starts thrusting. the tip of him glides at your bottom lip with each thrust. all you do is stare at his acts, which is using your tits to get off.

the more he pleasures himself, the more you feel your arousal start to soak your underwear. without thinking, you open your mouth a little so your tongue kitty licks his tip each time he thrusts up.

he groans, looking at you through hooded eyes. “shit. keep doing that, baby.”

his thrusts starts to get sloppy, his hips jutting from time to time. “open wider. good girl.”

with that, he shoots his load on your lips and into your mouth. he uses his finger on your chin to make you close your mouth, tasting him as you swallow. he kisses your neck and collarbone, tracing his fingers on the hem of your panties before pulling them down.

he uses his thumbs to spread you open, seeing how soaked you are.

you whine, balling your hands on the front of his shirt. “matt, please.”

he kisses your cheek before putting his entire length inside of you, your slippery cunt making him have easy access.

you moan as he starts moving in and out. this time around, his thrusts aren’t hard and fast. instead, they’re slow and deep.

he doesn’t pull out all the way — maybe only an inch or two — to make his thrusts even deeper. your tits bounce slowly with his rhythm, and he never takes his eyes off of them.

eyes squeezed shut, you’re letting out short moans and whimpers, ecstasy flowing through your whole body.

fucking matt was phenomenal, but slow sex with him felt different. it felt more real and comforting; feeling safe in his touch.

“you’re so deep.” you exhale, the knot in your stomach starting to form.

matt’s head falls to the crook of your neck. “you’re taking me so well, baby. so, so well.”

his words cause your legs to shake at his sides, squirming from underneath him as you cum slowly around his dick.

he kisses your lips passionately as he pulls out, putting the last of his orgasm onto your stomach.

he falls softly on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “you’re so much better than a stupid trophy.”

you laugh at matt’s saltiness because of his loss at jenga. “this mother fucker gave me the lecture about how to play jenga when he’s the one who knocked it down.” he continues to complain.

“jenga’s a stupid game, anyway.”

he looks up at you. “thank you.”

you laugh again, the both of you laying there and enjoying each other’s company. matt listened to your heartbeat, and you played with his hair softly, thinking about how much you missed your boy and nothing else.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @mattslolita

[lcriedlastnight]

Exes to lovers with Oscar: “what can i do? how can i fix this?”

idk how good i am at writing angsty stuff but here’s hoping i do you proud anon, lovely!

tw: fem!reader, not spell checked or proof read (cba bro it’s almost 4am), angsty (idk i tried), swears, lmk if you want to add anything else.

w/c: 2.3k

you hadn’t seen oscar in almost a month. the breakup was not the amicable, it was all oscar’s idea. not to play the name game or anything.

he was the one who ended things a month ago. your lives were just ‘too different’ right now and you were going in ‘different directions’. he was the one who had made sure he left no trace of himself in your apartment. he was the one you cried about when it got late and you felt lonely. most importantly, he was the one who acted like nothing had even happened.

people were commenting on your instagram posts and stories constantly asking where oscar was. it felt like getting kicked while you were already down. you stopped posting altogether after that.

it took you this whole month even be able to live your life again, before you were just existing. lando was the one to pull you up by your bootstraps and help you get your life back on track.

“i hate seeing you like this!” the brunette had begged you, a few weeks before, to go out clubbing with him and george.

“it’s just not my scene, lan. you know that. i’d rather just lay in bed all day and listen to the saddest songs on the tortured poets department.” you told him from somewhere between your messy bedsheets.

lando sighed and sat on the side of your bed. “c’mon! laying here crying about it will do nothing.” you knew he was right but it would do too much to his ego if you told him so, plus you also wanted to rot in this hurt for a little while longer.

“maybe next time.” you had offered. both of you knew you were lying.

the time came when lando finally made you face your problems head on, when he made you join him the monaco grand prix. with promises of not having to stay in a hotel and his company (you didn’t know if either of those things was something you wanted right now) the whole weekend, you eventually agreed. whether you agree just to shut him up or because you knew you would run into oscar… well it was a tie.

you lay tossing and turning in the guest room of lando’s, you couldn’t sleep for thinking about the man who has haunted your dreams for the past month and graced them for a year and a half before that. you decided to give up on getting sleep for now, turning onto your side you plan in your mind how you wanted the next day to play out. you were unsure if you should go for making him jealous of making him feel bad for you, eye bags and depression written all over your face or dolled up to the nines. in the end you decided on making him jealous. what good would looking gross at one of the most high profile races of the year - in front of your ex, no less - do you? you eventually fall asleep planning your outfits in your head.

the next morning you woke up with plenty of time to get ready, giving yourself plenty of time to get ready. lando, being your best friend, had the privilege of getting up at the arse crack of dawn, just as the light started to shine through his curtains, to ‘get ready with you’ as you had put it. he would put it as ‘you getting ready and him watching until you were almost done, then getting ready himself’. same thing basically.

“put that one taylor swift song on i know.” lando asks from his bed as you sit in front of his floor length mirror. you make eye contact from the floor.

“which one is that? she has like a million?” you question, you obviously being in charge of the music. lando groans as he turns onto his front, his groan becoming muffled by the bedsheets. you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

“i’m just gonna put folklore on then.” you tell him, picking up your phone from beside you where it was currently charging. lando near enough leaps from the bed at your words.

“no! that album is depressing! that’s not today’s vibe!” his hands reaching for your phone.

“what is the vibe for today then?” you ask, going back to blending out your light eyeshadow.

you can sense what lando is going to say before it even comes out of his mouth. “reputation.”

the start of ‘this is why we can’t have nice things’ plays through the speakers your phone is connected to in his room. you really try to hold off from telling him that reputation has more love songs on it than he thinks but you can’t help yourself. lando is surprised at the news and asks what album has the most repuatuation vibes.

you sigh. “i made a playlist. just play that.”

once you had finished your makeup, lando starts to get ready as you fish out the outfit you had planned out in your head last night out of your bag. you knew it had to be good, seeing as this was the first time in a month that oscar will see you.

a month wasn’t really that long, you both had been apart longer when you couldn’t make it to races and he had shit to do in training, but this separation was different. it was permanent and because of that it felt like years since you had seen oscar. double that, the last time you spoke to him.

“y’ready then?” lando asks, grabbing his car keys. you follow behind, your sundress swaying with the movements of your legs as you grab your clutch bag, filled with random items you knew you probably were never going to touch for the rest of the day. you nod, slipping on your heels and head to the car, right behind lando.

arriving at the paddock didn’t feel as weird as you thought it would. the flashes from the cameras almost blind you both as you walk in together. most reporters asking if you had cheated on oscar with the tanned brit.

as usual you ignore them and strut harbouring a false sense of confidence as you walk side by side with lando.

you stick to lando’s side of the garage during qualifying. some of oscar’s engineers notice you and give you a wave, not wanting to be rude you wave back. you watch q3 nervously, a part of you- way deep in the back of your brain - wishes for oscar to well and it’s looking like he could even get pole for the first ever time in a proper f1 race. his qualifying last grand prix weekend had really impressed you (not that you were watching him or anything. you were only watching to support lando) but had also made you think that oscar had made the right decision with your breakup.

as you watch on during the final few minutes of q3 you feel a camera pan on your face from the corner of you eye. you pretend not to notice, scared incase on the screen it still calls you oscar’s partner. not that you would know, but if you forget about the camera then you’ll most likely forget about it all as a whole.

lando qualifies fourth. oscar second. a great weekend for mclaren. a podium basically already in the bag for the, usually, papaya team. as both cars make their way back to the garage, you stand off to the side, waiting on lando.

the boy in the fluorescent helmet jumps out of the car and almost sprints to the opposite end of the garage, to oscar’s side, eager to congratulate him. you watch as the boy takes off his helmet and balaclava to wrap the australian up in a friendly hug. the latter not even getting the chance to take his own helmet or balaclava off before the arms of his friend wrap around him.

you just watch from afar, wanting so badly to be the one feeding oscar words of praise and excitement about the race tomorrow. you see them both converse as you try to act like your not staring, suddenly remembering the cameras lingering around. lando finally peels himself away and makes his way back to you. oscar’s eyes follow him to you. you don’t know if he’s surprised to see you or not. not like you even care anyways.

“well done lan!” you cheer, maybe a bit too loud than normal. your arms wrapping around his fireproofs in a tight hug, copying his own actions to his teammate minutes before. you hoped oscar was watching on.

“thanks bro!” lando laughs in your ear, happily as his results were improving every race. you also laugh at his choice of words.

“bro?” you ask through a giggle. the giggle drawing the attention of oscar again, who had tried to forget about your presence but felt like he was getting harshly reminded of the grave mistake he had made.

“you’re my bro” is all the explanation he gives. it’s not like he’s lying to be fair, you were his bro. he lets go of his hold on you then talks about his plans for tomorrow night.

“is it not a bit too early to be thinking about tomorrow after the race already?” you ask him, as if you’re not used to this at the end of every saturday.

“i should be at the club” he shrugs as he drags you to his race room. directly next to oscar’s. you know this hallway like the back of your hand.

you hear oscar’s footsteps behind you and lando as he tells you every thought he had during the flying laps. you trying so hard to listen but all you can think about it how much you want to turn around to oscar and bag him to take you back. but you’re not doing that. that would, well that would just be a new low for you.

“i just knew osc would be quick, didn’t think he would be quicker than me. he’ll probably be on the podium tomorrow.” lando comments, offhandedly. both your’s and oscar’s ears prick up at the mention of oscar’s name.

oscar strains his ears as you stop just in front of lando’s door. he tries to keep a safe distance, not wanting to alert you both of him.

“yeah?” is all you say. lando snorts.

“you could at least act like you care.” lando says as he opens the door to let you both in. that’s when you both hear the heavy, quick footsteps of oscar rushing to you before you enter lando’s driver room.

“hey-uh can i talk to you?” oscar directs to you, eyes not even trying to shift in lando’s direction. you hesitate. why was he acting like he hasn’t just broken up with you.

“please?” oscar practically begs. lando gives you an encouraging nudge before disappearing into his room, leaving you no choice but to stand in the hallway with oscar.

it’s quiet before you speak up, words a little uneasy and shaky. “what could you possibly have to say to me?” you question him.

“please don’t be like this. i can’t do it.” oscar’s voice is weak and almost pathetic. you scoff at his words.

“you’re being serious? where was this when you broke up with me?” you seethe, feeling your anger build. oscar looks hurt but you see a glint of something you can’t decipher in his eye and it makes you miss him even more, you can’t stand this.

“what can i do? how can i fix this? fix us?” oscar looks down at you with wide eyes. you swear they look glassy, like if he blinks too hard tears he’s so clearly fighting will slide down his cheeks.

“fix us?” you ask, confused. “you want to fix this?”.

oscar nods eagerly, gathering your hands in his and pressing them against his chest. “i can’t bare this without you. i’m so stupid for thinking that breaking up was the right thing to do. i miss you in everything i do. all i could think about out there was if you were still mines how i could go celebrate this with you. i don’t know if i remember how to live without you, baby.”

you only stare at him. your face betraying you by showing oscar every little feeling that flashes through your mind.

“it’s been like this since miami. you should’ve been there. i’m sorry. i’ve ruined this for you. and i know this is me being selfish but i need you to come back to me.” the grip oscar has on your hands get a little tighter as he begs you to forgive him.

you feel your bottom lip wobble a little before you pull your lips in a tight line to pull yourself together. “i miss you too. but you hurt me.” you say, cautious and wary.

oscar makes this pained noise like he’s been winded as your words hit him. “i know and i’m so fucking sorry. what can i do to make it up to you? i’ll do anything i swear.” oscar was clearly not above begging for you to his again.

you think for a second, eyes avoiding his and instead looking down at the floor. seeing as oscar can read you like a book he knows what’s coming next. you’re gonna reject him in a way he knows only you could and cry too, because you will feel bad, you’ll feel bad for the monster who broke your heart. how could he even think he would have a chance at getting you back?

you surprise him by speaking up softly. “maybe a trial date?” you suggest. oscar’s head nearly falls off from how quickly he nods. never agreeing to something so quickly before in his life. he’s going to make this the best date you’ve ever been on in your life.

[amrass]

RDR2 headcanon: Micah Bell kills his brother Amos in 1907

I think the family who Micah and his gang invade the home of and murder is Amos and his family. 

The crime is mentioned twice: in a 1907 newspaper, and by Cleet before John or Sadie kills him. The family includes a husband, a wife and daughters, like Amos' does, revealed through Micah's speeches, a knife game, and the letter from Amos in Shady Belle. (Shady Bells, both of them lol, being shrouded in mystery. I'll try to unveil them a little).

In the letter, Amos rejects Micah and tells him to stay far away or he'll kill him. "I have daughters, as you know". Micah must know his brother's address as this letter is a reply, but how does Micah know about his nieces? Did he visit? Did he stake out Amos' ranch, before he was spotted? (That must've been an intense moment). The letter can be found randomly as if thrown away, so it must've upset him, who is usually secretive. He is also swears he remember threats.

Is 1800s Micah capable of killing his own brother? Idk. But in the 1900s, I think he's unhinged enough to do it, especially if his O'Driscoll-like gang members join in. Amos is a failed Bell and a loose end, and he witnessed a weakness on Micah's part, in the letter.

For Micah hope is weakness, a belief that was softened and then solidified when he was in the Van der Linde Gang. I think he joined unconsciously wanting a family, consciously wanting money (the Blackwater score, Dutch's bounty, the gang funds…). Maybe Dutch let him join as as a pet project, testing his mentoring skills on a man rougher than a street kid (and if Micah can soften or settle down, so can Dutch?). Between chapter 1-4 of RDR Micah gets a sliver of hope and reaches out to Amos. But the reconciliation with the old family, the new family, and the money all go to hell. He likely ratted after Guarma, but I'm unsure if he were going to give the Pinkertons, Dutch. As a young man, Micah chose his father over Amos, like he chooses Dutch over Arthur or any other gang / family members. When Dutch rejects him, he screams in frustration. The money is seemingly not enough. I think he changes after this, going from bad to worse. And at his worst, he's probably capable of spilling his own blood. Maybe he feels like he's killing Amos on his father's behalf, like he killed "traitors" on Dutch's. (Daddy issues deluxe edition).

Micah and Amos can be read as a dark mirror to Arthur and John. Both Amos and John abandon their lawless lifestyle – and their brothers – to become lawful sheep ranchers. But where John lives on thanks to Arthur's involvement, it makes narratively sense to me that Micah's involvement does the opposite, ending his remaining family. In canon, John is also killed in the end, after a few years of lawful living. Amos might've been equally unable to escape. Especially with a brother like Micah.

Sorry if I got any details wrong. Special thanks to @zanazirafanfic and @the--end-is--nigh , who chatted about this with me months ago, offering their insights. I've been seeing a lot of cool Micah Bell and RDR theories lately, so I'd thought I'd share one of mine.

[transhuman-priestess]

Sorry for the random ask but you're one of the few people i see talking about this occasionally

It's honestly DISTRESSING how many usually smart and thoughtful blogs on this site have jumped on the ''It's okay to be shitty to transmascs'' bandwagon

People I've seen be mindful of community exclusionism in the past suddenly and almost GLEEFULLY pouncing on the chance to to rag on those awful cringey 'men's rights activists' (read: marginalized men discussing their marginalization)

They go on and on and on about how these 'transandrodorks' endlessly speak over women and are out to be the Biggest Victim Ever (and I'm sure it DOES happen here and there, there are shitty people in every group)

But the vast VAST majority of these people I've seen are just...transmascs venting on THEIR OWN BLOGS about how hurt and scared they are, how frustrated they are at being told how to define their own trauma and experiences, and then being harassed and dogpiled for speaking about it.

Some have been deleted, have had to move blogs, or have left Tumblr, and others are still being harassed!

I swear just a few months ago we were all rly upset at the harassment of trans people on Tumblr, but ig it's cool now?

Idk

Sorry for the long ask, it's just scary out here rn and we're tired.

Even if you don't answer this, Thank you for standing up for us. It's more appreciated than you know.

🩵🩷🤍🩷🩵

no its really fucked up and scary.

Just know that there's a whole lot of goodness out there, and that the loud bitter mean girls on tumblr are the minority. You're loved, nonny <3

[karslyn]

YALL I GOT ANOTHER IDEA FOR A CLARISSE FIC. Okay so like imagine this. you and clarisse aren’t friends (yall like each other but don’t tell the other) and a little bit ago (like a few months or so) you, clarisse, her brother sherman(or matty if you read addie’s fics), and a satyr all went on a quest tg (it was mainly an ares kids quest but they needed one person from ___ cabin, i was thinking aphrodite and there is a reason why) and you guys went out to a mortal store bc you needed something from the store to complete the quest and you saw this stuffed animal that you thought was adorable but clarisses brother told you to put it down and you cant have it bc its mortal so you put it back and walked away. later when you guys were sleeping, clarisse puts said stuffed animal in your bag and the next morning you find it in the bag and sherman thinks you stole it but you have no idea who got it (you eventually figure it out) then later back at CHB it’s nighttime and clarisse has a nightmare where her father calls her weak for liking you then ☠️ you and she wakes up in a sweat and goes to your cabin. (if it is aphrodites cabin) she knocks on the door and silena opens it (who’s one of her close friends and lit your bsf+sister) and she asks clarisse what she is doing and clarisse tells her and silena tells clarisse to follow her and brings her to you and yk what clarisse sees??? a happy sleeping perfectly fine girl who is sleeping with SAID STUFFED ANIMAL and she doesn’t know what to do so silena has her sit down and tells her “she likes you i swear. i mean have you seen the way she looks at you?” and then the next morning feelings are revealed and they all live happily ever after. OKAY ALL DONE. ykw maybe i’ll write it bc i basically already did. idk but if anyone wants to write this pls do bc it will FEED ME 😋

[sarahs-secrets2]

what do you think phillip would be like with an s/o who’s a struggling (or successful) painter/artist? idk just a crazy idea I had (ngl it would be so cute if he got his s/o their own studio or sum 💀) love ur writing!

Whatever You Want ˋ♡ˊ

phillip graves x gn!reader (pet names, swearing)

this is very Home Depot husband-esque, hope you enjoy!! thank you sm!! :)

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

“You think I’d be any good at it?” He scratched the back of his head unsure. Since you were an artist, it was only natural he asked you for advice, your word was gospel to him. 

“Of course baby,” placing a kiss on his lips for reassurance. 

Phillip had always been good with his hands, in more ways than one. It's why you suggested he look into building, and woodworking while he was on his break. 

Ever since you said that Phillip Graves had been in and out of the local hardware store nonstop. Luckily he had some time off due to his most recent stint of not being in the tank. The first couple of weeks you thought maybe he would drop it soon, move on to a new hobby. Little did you know what Phillip’s plans really were. 

You were sitting staring at a basically blank canvas. The only thing somewhat visible were faint sketch marks that you had tried to erase one too many times. In the background there was a faint sound of a screwdriver, Phillip had taken over the spare room for the past month. His newfound hobby had become much more serious. Of course, you didn't mind as long as he wasn't making too much of a mess. 

“Fuck,” mumbling under your breath, your brand-new set of pencils had just vanished. Not even 20 minutes ago they were on the kitchen table where you were working, and now… gone. “Honey!” you called out hoping you were loud enough he could hear. 

“Hm?” Graves stuck his head out from the door, pushing the clear safety goggles onto the top of his head. “You need me?”

“Do you know where my pencils went?”

He smirked, not answering right away. “Maybe…” his voice trailed, eyes darting back into the spare room. “Give me a few more minutes,” and just like that, the door slammed shut and the sound of the screwdriver returned. 

5 minutes later, Phillip stepped out of the room, making sure to close the door behind him. “You ready?” 

Hesitantly, you got up and followed him into the room. Almost immediately you froze taking in the new appearance of the room. Saying it was a dream come true was an understatement. An entire furnished art studio had now taken up residency in your spare room. 

“You did this?” you gestured to the brand-new studio in shock. Phillip smiled whilst stuffing his hands in his back pockets, obviously very proud of his work. The shelves were filled with your artwork from previous years that Phillip had saved. Against one of the walls, the perfect-sized desk sat already loaded with supplies (and your previously “lost pencils”). “For me?” 

“Of course,” his smile was warm as he stepped closer, “I’d build you whatever you want darlin’,” his eyes glued to yours, hands dragging slowly up and down your arms. You knew he meant it, he had always been your biggest supporter. 

“Thank you baby, this is…” your arms wrapped around his neck drawing him in. “This is everything, thank you,” 

He whispered, leaning in for a kiss, “Anythin’ for you doll,”

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

i didn't proof read bc im sleepy!! ill do it in the morning!!

graves masterlist!!

[sentientgolfball]

can u pls do ummmm um dew/reader/rain :3 mayb a little jealousy smth smth ....... and like ummmm mayb things get a little wild or smth like idk ! hope this helps thank u champion <3

Next time you want me to write smut ask me out loud instead of sauntering into my ask box as an anon (jk ily but if you don't give me more substance next time i'll beat u <3)

Anyways possessive Rain is the best and you cannot boo me cause I'm right

MDNI 18+ my requests are open !

“And what’s this lovely Sibling doing all alone?” 

“Working, Dew. Ever heard of it?” 

You grabbed another crate of books and moved between the rows of shelves hoping to put some distance between you and the fire ghoul. You pushed the row on the shelf in front of you to make room for the newest editions and sighed when you were met with Dew’s smug little face peeking back at you. 

“What a shame. I was looking for someone to play with and all that came to mind was you.” 

“How romantic.” 

You rolled your eyes and shoved the stack in your hand into place obscuring his face. You felt a small smile creep onto your face hearing the softest little whine from him, but it quickly fell when he rounded the corner. You crossed your arms as he closed the distance between you two. He was so close you could feel the heat that seemed to always be rolling off of him. 

“Come on, all work and no play makes you a bad Sibling.” He trails a claw up your forearm. You have to fight the shudder you can feel pricking just under your skin. You’d be damned if you gave him the reaction he wanted. 

You look at him with your best bored expression “If you want to fuck someone so bad I’m sure Phantom would be delighted to have you.” 

You watched his eyes start to glow with the mention of the quintessence ghoul’s name. You felt a little proud of yourself for knowing just how to get under Dew’s skin. He stepped back from you with a dramatic sigh, throwing his head back. 

“You really are no fun. Explains why Rainy took such a liking to you.” 

That little fucker. 

You don’t get the chance to reply before he walks past you towards the main doors of the library. You tense feeling the spade of his tail brush the side of your thigh. You swear you hear a snicker before you’re completely alone again. You groan and lean against the shelf you were working on when you hear the heavy doors open and then close. For the past few weeks, you have been having encounter after encounter with Dew that pretty much follows the exact same formula. He annoys you, asks you to fuck, and then leaves when you say no, but not before he gets some type of reaction out of you. It’s a game to him and despite constantly turning him down you couldn’t help but feel like you were the one losing. You had no idea what you did to gain the little fire ghoul’s attention, but you did know he was starting to draw you in. You hated yourself for even thinking that, but there was no denying it.  

Actually, scratch that. 

You knew exactly what you did to get his attention. It’s because you had gotten Rain’s attention. The water ghoul tends to spend a lot of his free time split between the lake and the library. A few months ago he had begun to appear during the shifts you worked. He didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, just sat in his usual spot and flipped through whatever he was currently reading. That didn’t stop you from staring, though. You had always thought he was a sight to behold, the way his blue-grey skin rippled like a pool when the sunlight hit him just right or how his fangs would poke out from under his lip when he was wholly absorbed in his story. You were enamored by him. All your feelings came to a head one day when he caught you throwing glances in his direction. He came over to you and you were sure he was going to call you out or tell you off, but all he did was introduce himself and ask if you wanted to know what he was reading. 

From that point on, you and Rain had started to hang around each other more often. At first, it was innocent enough. Simply gushing to each other about the latest books you’ve read or sharing the gossip heard around the Ministry, but then hands started to wander. He’d give these little touches that would make your stomach flip and skin feel electric. He’d say these little things that made you overanalyze every conversation later that night in the shower. You’d squirm and he’d go on like nothing was happening, as if he didn’t know exactly what effect he had on you. It all tipped over the edge one night when he pulled you into an alcove after midnight mass panting about just how badly he needed you. The thought was quickly interrupted by a pair of ember-like eyes burning holes into your soul. 

 That was about the time Dew started to pop into your life. That was also the last time Rain tried for secrecy. Ever since then, he had been very outward about his affection, about his fondness for you. He even began taking to staying in your room a few nights out of the week. Your life soon became overrun with the near-constant presence of two ghouls. At first, it was almost like a dream come true, but now it was just your personal nightmare. As Rain got more possessive Dew got more insistent. It was getting to be a bit overwhelming if you were being honest. 

Maybe I’ll talk to Rain about it…oh fuck Rain!

You checked the time on the grandfather clock that sat near the fireplace in the library and cringed when you heard the bells chime before you even finished reading the face. You were late. It was supposed to be one of your little date nights, something he insisted on doing recently, but you completely missed the meeting time. You hadn’t realized just how long you’ve been unpacking all the new books that were ordered. You groaned and moved the half-empty crate behind the front desk deciding it’ll be easier to just deal with the rest tomorrow. You left the library in a hurry to get back to your room. You’d be quick. You would just change out of your uniform and sprint to the lake no problem at all. 

You paused when you were outside of your door. You leaned in closer and furrowed your brow in confusion. Either you were crazy or someone was in your shower. You carefully opened the door and crept in. You immediately sighed in relief when you saw Rain’s clothes draped over the chair at your desk. Of course he wouldn’t go to the lake without you first. You flopped onto the bed after changing out of your habit, idly scrolling your phone waiting for him to finish. You didn’t dare open any of the messages from Dew. The sound of the shower turning off made your head pop up. It wasn’t long before the door opened with a puff of steam and Rain walking out with nothing on but his sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He didn’t look surprised to see you sitting there in the slightest. 

“Did you use all the hot water?” 

“You could’ve joined me.” He shrugged with a smile before sitting down next to you, pulling you to his side. 

“I take it we’re not going to the lake anymore?” 

“Nah it’s too cold for that now.” 

“I’m sorry I got caught up at work and–”

“Don’t be sorry sweet thing. We still have the rest of the night together.” 

“But–” 

You were cut off by him leaning down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, planting a light kiss there. You tensed when you felt him pull away and sit up. His expression was unreadable.

“You smell like Dew.” 

Here we go.

“Yeah he came to visit me at work…like always.” 

“What did he want?”

“Oh, the usual. Asking me to fuck him and then making fun of you.”

He looked at you expecting you to continue. It wasn’t hard to tell you had something else on your mind. You played with his fingers as you spoke the next part. 

“Rain what is going on with you two? He hasn’t left me alone since you started spending more time with me.” 

Rain rolled his eyes “That’s just how he is. He has to have everything I have. He wants everything I want.” 

“So it really is just a game to him?” 

“More or less, why do you ask?” 

You couldn’t explain it. The quick sinking feeling you got when Rain said this. Of course, you had always had that thought in your mind that Dew was just toying with you, but having it confirmed by the one who knew the fire ghoul better than anyone else made you feel strange. You shook your head trying to shrug it off, but Rain didn’t let it go. He turned fully towards you, putting a hand over yours. 

“You wanted it to be more than a game, didn’t you?” 

You floundered for a response, not entirely sure how to answer that. He laughed and it sends a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze and you see something dark, almost predatory there. 

“I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s not going anywhere near you” he leaned in close and dragged his fangs over your pulse point “I’ll make sure of that.” 

~~~

Everything only got worse from there. Rain now spent all of his free time in the library pretending to read while he watched you work. Any time Dew showed up you could hear the low growl from across the room. This only spurred Dew on. He would talk to you louder than necessary while making eye contact with Rain the entire time. You were mortified the day he commented on the fresh bruises and bite marks that peaked above the collar of your uniform. You were entirely prepared to see Rain attempt to kill him. That day didn’t come for a while, though. 

It all happened so quickly. Dew has been uncharacteristically quiet all day. Simply watching you and occasionally actually helping you. Rain had been on the same page for ten minutes. And then it happened. You almost fell carrying the last of the massive crates of books and Dew was right there. He caught you just before you face-planted into the nearest shelf, holding you closer than needed asking if you were alright in a low voice. You didn’t get the chance to answer before you heard a chair scraping against the floor and Dew was yanked off of you. You watched Rain drag Dew out of the library by the back of his neck, tail lashing as he went. 

That was the last you saw of both of them for the next 24 hours. The only thing that stopped you from believing Dew was dead at the bottom of the lake was that no new announcement regarding ghoul summonings was made. Your last straw was when you went to the feast hall and the ghoul table was noticeably empty. You decided that you were going to march down to the ghoul den, find Rain and Dew, and demand an explanation. But that was easier said than done. 

You found yourself standing outside of the den. You had been standing for about ten minutes now. All your confidence drained the moment you saw the ornate doors with various claw marks on them. You were about ready to say fuck it and turn around when you heard shouting. The voices very clearly belonged to Dew and Rain. Well, you assumed it was Rain because all you could hear was the angry snarls of the fire ghoul. You pressed closer to the door to make out what they were saying.

“I don’t understand why you’re so pissy about this! It’s not like this is the first time we’ve shared a Sibling!” 

“Oh please. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing. Sharing. The great Dewdrop doesn’t share. He takes what he wants without considering for a moment anyone or anything but himself.” 

“Aww you think I’m great.” 

You jump back when you hear the sound of feet stomping closer to the door. 

“Yeah Yeah go run and hide at the bottom of the lake. Maybe I’ll visit your sweet thing while you’re moping.” 

The door flies open and you stare dead ahead at Rain’s chest, too scared to meet his gaze. You can feel him staring down at you. Your face flushes when you hear Dew cackle. 

“Or maybe they’ll visit me.” 

Rain hisses and there’s a moment of silence before his hand brushes your cheek. It trails down under your jaw as he tilts your head up to look at him. You feel your stomach drop to the floor when you’re met with that blank face that’s impossible to read. Just over his shoulder, you can see Dew staring at you with his head slightly tilted and a grin plastered on his face. Rain’s voice pulls your attention back to him. 

“What are you doing here?” he says softly, genuinely.

“I…came to find you and Dew. I was worried when you both disappeared after what happened in the library.” 

“Aww did you hear that Rainy? They were worried about me.” 

Rain’s eyes narrow as he removes his hand from your face and grabs your wrist. He begins to leave the den and you have to dig your heel in to not be dragged along with him. When he feels the resistance he stops to turn and look at you confusion written all over his features. 

“No” You’re feeling a lot bolder than you were five minutes ago “No. That’s not all. I have no idea what’s going on between you two but you need to kiss and make up. I’m tired of being dragged into the middle of this.” 

“What’s going on is Dew cannot fathom the idea that I have interests that aren’t him.” 

“I think what you mean to say is ‘I’m a possessive bitch who can’t stand it when the great Dewdrop looks at anything that’s not me’.” 

Dew’s words and the glare from Rain make you have a sudden realization. This was never Dew’s game. It was Rain’s.  You think back to all the encounters you had with Rain before the day he pulled you into that alcove and realize Dew had always been there. You now understand why he became a presence in your life after that moment. At this point though, you couldn’t care less about which ghoul wanted who or what. You were tired of their petty little pissing contest. 

“Okay,” You rub the bridge of your nose “What’s it going to take to get you two off my ass and to treat each other like friends again?” 

“You really don’t have to do anything. It’ll cool over like it always does.”

“Rain I am sick and tired of being in the middle of this.” 

“You know, I have an idea. But I don’t think Rainy will be too thrilled about it.” 

Rain growls at him and you too have an understanding of what that idea is. 

“Lord’s below Rain if all it takes is letting Dew get his dick wet then what's the problem.”

“The problem is he can’t stand when it’s anyone else but him.”

“Can it Dewdrop,” you turn to look at Rain who looks ready to break something but the slight blush on his face betrays his thoughts “Would it help if you were there?” 

“Ooo we picked a freaky one! Come on wet boy they’re literally asking for it.” 

Rain sighs “You really wanna do this?”

“If it’ll get things back to normal then yes. Very much so.” 

You did not realize how fast it would all move when you said those little words. The doors to the ghoul den were slammed shut as Rain stalked close to you with that hunter’s gaze. You were suddenly very aware of how easily it would’ve been for Rain to just get rid of you if he really didn’t want Dew around you. You start to back away from him but you end up bumping into Dew’s chest. You feel his hands wrap around your middle and his breath against your ear.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Rainy’s always liked the chase. Why do you think it took him so long to fuck you? It wasn’t just because of me.” 

You yelp feeling yourself be quickly lifted off the ground by the little ghoul. He taunts Rain the whole way to his bedroom. You briefly wonder how many times this exact situation has happened when you see the look on Rain’s face. You don’t have much time to consider it before you’re being thrown rather unceremoniously onto a bed. You barely have enough time to blink before Dew is sitting between your legs. 

“Alright dear Sibling, last chance. If you wanna leave just say the words and that’ll be it.” 

You feel the mattress dip as Rain sits against the headboard. You look up at Dew and see his burning gaze and you come to find you want this a lot more than you previously thought. You gave Dew the go-ahead and that was all he needed. He practically pounced on you the moment ‘yes’ left your mouth. He kissed you harshly before nipping your bottom lip with his fangs. You gasped and he used this to slip his forked tongue into your mouth. He licked into you feverishly before making an attempt at shoving his tongue down your throat. His mouth never left yours as his hands traveled from your hips to your neck. He flexed his claws against your skin each time you moaned into his mouth. 

You reach for him, trying to bring him closer to you, but the moment you do he is ripped from you. You whined in confusion as Rain pulled him off of you and onto him. You watched the way Rain pulled his head back by his hair exposing his neck. He squirmed and gasped as Rain kissed and bit at the scars on his neck. Dew reached a hand out and pushed lightly on Rain causing him to stop and gaze at him. 

“Come on Rainy don’t be rude to our guest. I thought you liked your sweet thing?” 

You looked away when Rain’s eyes landed on you. He smoothed a hand over your head, letting it continue down your back and under your shirt. You shudder at his cool touch and finally look up at him. He grins when he has your attention before darting forward and biting hard into Dew’s neck. He gasps and ruts ever so slightly onto Rain’s thigh as the water ghoul laps at the wound before any blood can dribble down. He pulls back and hums in satisfaction at the mark. 

“Now you can play with him.” 

He practically dumps him back on top of you. He doesn’t move from his spot sitting next to you against the headboard as Dew straddles your hips and pulls your shirt off. He latches himself to your neck as he drags the tips of his claws down your body to rest just above your hip bone. You can feel his tail snake into the bottom of your shorts, the tip of the spade creeping closer and closer to your clit. You gasp when it pushes past the fabric of your underwear and slides so slowly through you. He kisses up your neck and jaw as his tail flicks small circles over you. 

You squirm as the spade traces gently over your hole before pushing in. Your moan is immediately swallowed by Rain bringing his lips to yours. He reaches over you and cups one of your breasts in his hand, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You try to concentrate on kissing Rain back but all you can focus on is the feeling of Dew’s tail dragging against your walls. Rain gasps and pulls back from you squeezing your chest harshly. You crack open an eye to Dew’s hand shoved down Rain’s sweats jerking him as he fucks you with his tail. You see something dangerous flash across Rain’s face as his eyes flick from you to Dew. 

He swats the fire ghoul’s hand away and shoots up, grabbing him by the wrists. You yelp as he’s quickly pulled off of you when Rain flips their positions. He pulls Dew’s ass up by the hips and pulls his pants off him. 

“I still think you’re being mean Rainy.” He wiggles his ass back against Rain’s dick. Rain peers over at you before pulling Dew flush against his chest by his hair. 

“Get under him.”

You shift around until you’re laying on your stomach looking up at the two ghouls. 

“Now suck it.” 

You slowly bring your lips to the head of his cock and push the tip into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slit before taking more of him. Dew’s breathy pants turn into moans as the slick sounds of Rain pushing into Dew fill the room. You had no time to prepare before Rain thrusts brutally into Dew causing him to be pushed to the back of your throat. You gag and the fire ghoul whines as your muscles contract around him. His hand shoots to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair guiding you up and down his dick. 

He barely has to move you as Rain keeps up a devastating pace. Dew’s head is thrown back against Rain’s shoulder with his tongue hanging out of his mouth too blissed out from getting fucked from the back and the front. You have to focus on breathing through your nose as every thrust from Rain pushes Dew to the back of your throat. You work your tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock. It’s all you can do feeling the ache in your jaw and your forearms from holding yourself up. 

You hear Rain hiss something in Infernal and it’s the only warning you get before you feel Dew spill hotly down your throat. You fight off a gag at the suddenness of it. 

“You better swallow all of it. Don’t waste a drop of him.” 

You do just as you're told and pull off of him with an obscene pop unable to hold yourself up anymore. It doesn’t take much longer before the sound of skin slapping against skin stutters and Rain grunts biting into Dew’s neck again as he cums deep inside of him. Dew flops forward next to you when Rain pulls out of him. The water ghoul runs his fingers through his hair and wraps his tail loosely around your wrist. Dew reaches over and squeezes your hand before turning his head to look at you. 

Eventually you all roll around until Rain is between both you and Dew, holding you close. You feel yourself drifting off soothed by the sounds of the ghoul’s purrs, that is until you feel Dew squeeze your hand again. You look across to him and get a bad feeling from the glint in his eye. He slowly untangles himself from Rain and crawls over to you. He runs his claws over your thighs. 

“Dew…” you warn, glancing up at Rain who appears to be sound asleep. 

“Oh don’t worry about sleeping beauty. Just focus on me.” 

You slap a hand over your mouth when his hand dips into your shorts. You closed your eyes and send a quick prayer to whoever was listening that Rain wouldn’t wake up to Dew doing his absolute best to pull you closer to your own edge. 

[luizd3ad]

Trapped by Him | Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Yandere, tattoo artist Sirius Black x Fem! Muggle Reader WC: 952 CW: Stalking, Swearing, Kidnapping, no use of Y/N, use of Avada Kedavra, this is just dark lowkey Author's Note: I'm gonna be so honest with you guys I've been sitting on this fic for months and it's just been sitting in the drafts... sorry also I’ve never written a Yandere fic before but I read a lot of dark romance sooo hopefully its good. I'm also thinking about making this multiple parts series but idk so lmk if you guys want more. Summary: Siris thinks he’s protecting you, you are his after all... even if you don’t know it.

kinda hate this mood board tbh

·☆· ────── · ❀ · ────── ·☆·

How could he not watch her?

She was his flower. So soft, so pretty and so fucking defenseless. 

She was only a muggle after all, she didn't have magic to keep herself safe, who knows what could happen to her?! He just wanted to protect her!

No, he needed to protect her.

So he watched her, followed her. 

Made sure she would get to work just fine, made sure she made it home. He would watch her from across the room when she would go out to have dinner with her friends. 

He would watch and make sure no man went up to her, she was his after all, whether she knew it or not.

He just had to guarantee her safety. That was all he wanted to do, he wanted to make sure she was safe at all times. 

Well… he also wanted to do other things but those wants those needs weren’t important… for now.

He still remembers the moment she walked into his shop just a few months ago. 

Her friend had dragged her in and convinced her to get her first tattoo.

A little flower on her shoulder. 

While Sirius was tattooing her, she would wince and whimper every so often. That's when Sirius knew. Hearing her cry in pain just broke something in him.

He needed to protect his flower at all costs.

☆¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸☆

You were walking to a pub where you and some of the girls from work were meeting up at. Honestly you didn't want to go, but your cousin had been telling you that you needed to get out of your comfort zone more.

So when one of your coworkers had invited you out you figured that was the best way to get out of your comfort zone since you had only ever said no up to this point.

You walked into the pub and spotted your coworkers right away.

After about 30 minutes of chatting you decided you needed something to drink. Tonight just felt like it was going on for, forever. 

You walked up to the bar waiting to get the bartender's attention.

“You're going to be waiting a while, love. This guy has no idea what he's doing.”

Looking at the seat next to you, you see a tall man with short black hair and big brown eyes.

“Yeah, I've kinda figured that out already.” 

Letting out a little chuckle, the man holds out his hand for you to shake introducing himself. “Spencer.” 

You shake his hand introducing yourself.

You and Spencer spend the better part of the night talking and getting to know each other. It was actually quite nice. You two had so much in common, he was nice enough and he was pretty cute. 

Your coworker had all left at some point waving as they left not wanting to interrupt your time with Spencer. 

You looked down at your watch and noticed it was almost midnight.

“Damn, it's getting late, I should be going now.” You stand up and grab your things. Spencer stood up as well smiling at you. “It's too dangerous to walk by yourself. Do you mind if I join you?”

“I'd like that a lot actually.” you smiled up him with a small nod and then you and Spencer started the short walk to your flat talking the whole way there. 

You were both so caught up in each other that you didn't notice the shadow that followed you.

☆¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸☆

Sirius couldn't believe his eyes. 

His precious flower was walking into her flat with a stranger.  A man she had just met!

How could she be so stupid?

His poor stupid precious little flower.

This is why he had to watch her! 

He knew at that moment that he couldn't wait any longer.

He wanted to take his time getting to know her more, he wanted to learn about her more. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect before he brought her home but this just proved that he needed to act fast and now. 

Sirius watched as the light in her living room turned on. He could guess by the shadows that one of them, he was guessing you, was in the kitchen while the other person, that man, was in the living room. 

He knew your apartment like the back of his hand. He knew how to open every door without making a sound, and knew where ever loose floorboard was. 

He could walk in your flat in pure darkness without making a sound. He only knows because he's done it more times then he can count over the last few months. 

Sirius made his way to your flat casting ‘Alohomora’ to open the door silently. When he makes it into the living room all he can see is that man's hand on your face, stroking your cheek. 

You were allowing him to do so.

With a fucking smile on your face!

Sirius saw red. 

Before he can even process what he's doing, a flash of bright green light is shot at the man next to you.

The green light seemed to consume everything in the room blinding you then as the light fades and you look next to you, there Spencer is. He doesn't look like he's breathing, he's slumped on the couch, eyes wide open, no movement. 

He looked lifeless.

Before you had the chance to figure out what exactly was going on before you could even freak out all you were was ‘Stupefy’ and then everything went black.

·☆· ────── · ❀ · ────── ·☆·

[fandxmslxt69]

Cute Library Boys

Steven Grant x f!Reader

Warnings: Steven being too goddamn cute and fluff!! Some swearing, absolutely tooth rotting dorky-ness.

A/N: Oh my god this has been sitting in drafts for so long but I finally finished editing ahahah. Idk how I feel about it ngl, its cute and has me giggling but !!!! idk. Anyway this IS inspired by a prompt: "Going for the same book at the library" taken from @creativepromptsforwriting (Mona sent me a prompt list literally like 2 months ago thank you @whatthefishh you are too cute for this world.) ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY this is a peace offering before I pour my heart out into the most gut wrenching angst and coochie killing smut <3

-Clem

Synopsis: All you wanted was to have a quiet day browsing books in the library. Who knew you'd manage to find the cutest man to spend your day with right there in the history aisle?

Word count: 3541 (omg.)

Walking through the library, you gently ran your finger over the spines of the book, feeling worn out paper and leather on your fingertips. It was always relaxing, being surrounded by so many stories, real or not, lives and adventures. You skimmed through a history section, looking for a book that might be of interest, and your eyes landed on one just up ahead, with a pretty spine and a title written in gold. Your fingers jumped to it, but bumped with another hand outstretched to grab it.  “Oh sorry, love! Didn’t see you there,”  “Oh no it’s alright!” You grinned up to the cute man with the cute British accent. “You can have the book, I don’t mind,” “Oh no,” He shook his head.  “Really, you can take it,”  “No it’s fine, really, I can just order another from the system,” He grabbed the book off the shelf, handing it to you. “Love, please. I’ve already read it anyway. It’s all yours,” He smiled, a bright breathtaking smile that lit up his whole face.  You hesitated but took the book from his hand, adding it to the (very heavy) bag you carried. “Memorised and all?” He chuckled. “I wish,”  You grinned at him, and an awkward silence fell as you scanned the rest of the shelf. “Uh,” You cleared your throat. “Anyway. Thank you, a lot, for-” “The book,” He finished. “Yes! The book. Thank you,”  He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing.  “Alright well uh…I’ll, go, thank you, again,” You rushed to say before quickly dashing off, trying not to think about how pretty he was, or how soft his eyes looked, or his beautiful curls, his soft yet clear features…

No. 

You weren’t sure what the hell urged you to turn right back around and down the aisle again, but your feet carried you there anyway, and you found yourself standing right in front of the gorgeous stranger again. “Um. Hi.” You mumbled. Maybe he didn’t hear, maybe you could run be- “Hi! You’re back,” He grinned and you could feel the sunshine radiating off of him.  “Yeah. Um..I don’t know I just…yknow…You seem to know your books,” You gestured to the growing pile by his feet. “So I was just..wondering if you had any recommendations? I’m in a bit of a slump, so I wanted to try something new. I mean only if you’re cool with it, if I’m bothering you I’ll just go-”  He laughed, a quiet small chuckle that put a huge ass sappy smile on your face. It was contagious, his bubbly energy and cute laughs and smiles. “No it’s alright love, I’d be more than happy to give you a few suggestions, though it might just turn out to be a big ramble,” You shrugged. “Nothing beats a good book ramble,” “Wholeheartedly agree. Now,” He turned to the shelves, his soft eyes scanning the spines of the dozens of books, and he just started rambling- exactly like he said he would. On and on and on, grabbing a few books at a time and talking about them all at once, he looked over the moon to share all this knowledge with someone, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you could barely keep up with him. You just stood there watching him, probably grinning like an idiot, adding every book he put down to the growing pile in your bag. Whether the book was actually interesting or not, you didn’t care. When a cute man excitedly tells you about his favourite books in an aisle in the library, you grab every damn one of those books and you take them home. 

By the time he finished going through at least a dozen books, he paused, biting his lower lip to hide a shy smile. “Sorry. Got carried away there,” 

Ah shit.

“No no! It’s okay, no apology needed at all. You- it’s cute. You’re cute. When…you do the ramble thing. Cute. Yeah.” You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up.  There was a beat of silence, before he blurted out, “Steven.” “Sorry?”  “Steven…my name. Is Steven. Grant. Steven Grant. It kind of just hit me that I didn’t introduce myself,”  “Oh. Oh! Oh right. Oh my god.” You fumbled with your bag, trying to get yourself back in control. “This is embarrassing. I’m so sorry. I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you Steven,” He laughed again. “It’s very nice to meet you too,”  You nodded. How many times are you going to nod. Quit it.  “So…um,” you cleared your throat, wondering if it was too late to ask for a hole to open up and swallow you whole. “Yknow..there’s um…this cafe, right down the street, and it’s really nice and they’ve got pretty decent coffee and food. I was wondering if…you know, if you’re free anyway, and not too busy or if you have something better to do I totally get it-” “I’d very much like to go to the cafe down the street with you,” Steven interrupted, and you stared at him, jaw hanging open slightly as you took in his shy smile and the light rose of his cheeks.  “I mean, if that’s what you’re asking-” He rambled quickly to add. “Yes! Ah, uh, yes, that is what I’m asking,” You grinned widely, cheeks starting to hurt from how damn much you were smiling at this cute stranger in the history aisle of your local library.  “Great! Wonderful, amazing. I- uh…I’ll…go check out my books? Get settled while you do yours and…” “...we can meet by the front doors?” You finished for him. He nodded quickly, his hair bouncing with each bob of his head. You nodded too, fiddling with the strap of your bag. “Okay. Okay cool. I’ll…go do my thing. And I’ll see you soon?” “Yes, absolutely, 100% yeah,”  You chuckled, a few butterflies taking flight through your stomach with all his nervous blabbering.

He’s cute. Real cute, with the nicest warm eyes and a precious crooked smile, and the cutest mop of curls on his head that you desperately wanted to play with. Not to mention his adorable outfit..the cute earth brown pants and the soft sweater that definitely hugged his body in a comfy yet pleasing way. 

Screwed. Absolutely, royally screwed. 

After awkwardly staring (analysing) him for a solid minute as he grabbed the rest of his books, you turned and dashed to the check out desks, fumbling and mumbling about stupid cute library boys the entire way through the checkout process. 

*                                           *                                          *

As you both left the library, a light silence falling between you, he couldn’t help but take a few glances at you, his heart picking up pace, a giddy laugh building up in his throat- this was new. All of it was so new yet welcomed. He’d be damned if he let it go to waste, whether it be a chance to make a friend, or maybe a little more. 

By the time you had reached the shop, his shoulder ached from carrying his bag of books, and you looked ready to drop dead on your feet. 

“I can carry your bag if it’s getting you tired,” Steven suggested softly as you entered the cafe. You frowned, hugging your bag tightly to you. “What, no. It’s okay, I like carrying my bag. Makes me feel close to my books,” You pointed to a table by the window. “Here?” He laughed, then nodded. “Yeah this works,” He took a seat, lifting his bag off of him and placing down beside him. “What do you like to read anyway?” “Oooh,” You slid into the seat, you could feel the ache in your lower back start to build. Who even had back problems at this age. “I like a good fantasy novel, and I am guilty of reading way too much romance. I also like poetry. Not a very big person in non fiction though.” “Romance huh?” He raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his lips. “Scandalous romance?” You laughed, shrugging. “What, a woman has her needs, and those needs happen to be pretty men with cute accents,”  “Ah right,” He nodded again, then paused. “Wait. I have an accent,” You chuckled, smiling widely. “Yes you do. A cute one too. And you’re cute. Pretty, dare I say,” His eyes widened, a blush creeping up his neck and his ears started turning red too as he looked away, averting his eyes and biting at his lower lip. Your heart did a little flip at how cute he looked when he was flustered.  “What kinda books do you like, Mr. Grant?”  “Hmm,” He flipped aimlessly through the menu, his eyes scanning the millions of different ways they make frappuccinos and espressos. He didn’t even drink coffee that much, he was more of a tea guy. “I like history, big fan of mythologies and stuff,”  You sat up, grinning widely. “I love mythology. I was a huge sucker for them in middle school. Still kinda am, honestly,” His heart did a little thing. “Really? What kind of mythology?” You shrugged. “I was really into the Greeks, they were pretty fun and it was a good time. I like the Romans a bit too, but they’re a little boring, yknow? The Norse are wack too, which makes it funny,” You grinned. “I was just a bit obsessed. I had an Egypt phase too for quite a bit,”  You could see the way his face lit up, how his eyes widened and a big smile started spreading across his face. “Egypt huh? That’s cool.” He nodded, deciding not to make a further comment lest it come off as too strong. You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Oh come on, you totally had an Egypt phase,” “Did not!” “You so did. C’mon, tell me. I promise I won’t judge! I never could, I had attachments to those guys. You definitely know a thing or two,” He waved you off. “No..I mean, a little maybe. I’ve studied their mythologies and tales, aspects of culture and society, that’s sorta stuff, it’s not interesting really,” “Not interesting?” You scoffed. “Well I find them interesting. C’monnnn,” You nudged his leg under the table. “Who’s your favourite god?” He shook his head, a playful smile on his face. “I’m fond of Taweret. Hippo goddess, resides in the underworld and stuff. She’s nice,”  “Yeah? Know her personally?” “Oh yeah, obviously. We have chat over tea all the time,”  No way he was this funny. “Really? Wait, hang on,” You leaned in, “if she resides in the underworld, does that mean you’ve died before, Steven Grant?”

He liked it, he decided. The way you said his name, how it rolled off your tongue and out of your mouth so easily, and not the sarcastic way everyone else said it. Heaven, at least you remembered his name, not when half the staff at the old museum couldn’t even get Steven right.  He scrunched up his face, thinking deeply. “Hmm. Let’s see. I think I might have, yeah. A few times now actually,” There it was again, the laugh that filled the entire cafe, as your shoulders shook and you threw your head back in joy. “No way, you did not,” You finally said.  “I absolutely did! It’s not a good experience obviously, but yknow, an adventure,”  “So you’ve like- met Osiris and stuff?” He shrugged. “Maybe,” “Oh come on. Tell me! I’ve always liked him. Given, I always like every death god, so it’s no different,” “He’s alright. Very stiff though, no personality at all, he’s all business serious,” “Well duh, he’s a king,” Steven rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t mean he’s got to be so boring,”  You chuckled again, shaking your head in disbelief as you went back to the menu. “Any other gods you’ve met?” “Hmm.” He tapped his chin a few times, and brushed a curl of hair out of his eye. “I’ve met some night gods. They look like big ugly birds, with a big temper and zero compassion or kindness. Dress in old rags and stuff,”  “You’re lying, I swear you’re lying,” “I am not! It’s true. I see one quite often actually, he’s a pain in the ass, right psycho.”  “Yeah? He your best friend?” He snorted. “Absolutely not.”  You tsked. “Aw, that’s so sad,” “No it’s not. I told you, he’s not right in his mind,”  “Yeah but isn’t that all gods?” Steven sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Okay, you make an excellent point, but I’m telling you, this one is bloody psycho. Murderous and whatnot.” He smiled, a big goofy smile that showed his cute dimples.  You shook your head again, trying to fight back a stupid sappy grin. “You’re too funny,” “Too funny? Is that bad?” He frowned. “No! No, absolutely not. It’s nice, your jokes are actual..well, yknow, jokes. And it’s kind of nerdy.” “Oi!” He leaned in, pointing a finger at you with an air of amusement. “You just said nerdy was cute,” “It is!! It’s very cute!”  “Bloody right. ‘Cause if you came for sports jokes, I’m not your guy,” You laughed. “Nope, no sports jokes for me. I just like an extra side of nerdiness,”  He narrowed his eyes, fighting back a smile. “You are horrible,”  “Horribly cute, yeah, definitely,” He exploded with laughter, his face all happy smile lines and precious dimples. You smiled widely, your heart doing a little skip with how gorgeous he looks, so full of laughter. 

Thankfully though, before he caught you grinning like an idiot at him and trying to memorise his face, a waiter came to your table, and you managed to order your drinks without acting crazy or too dorky. 

*                                                         *                                                                *

“What about Bastet? You know her?” 

Okay so maybe you were still a little dorky. 

“The cat lady? I mean you see her everywhere don’t you? In all the nice cat ladies by your flat or in the market!” “Okay fine Mr. Poetic, I’m asking about the goddess,” 

He grinned, fiddling with the strap of his bag as you both made your way to a bus stop. “I haven’t met her, no. But I know of her,” 

“Right, of course,” You weren’t sure why you humoured this idea; the possibility of divinity walking amongst man. But the ease of pretending, of imagining with him, with Steven, was something you came to realise you enjoyed too much to give up.  “What about Zeus?” He frowned. “Wrong civilization,”  “Oh come on, so you’re telling me you can believe the idea of gods with bird heads from the times of pyramids, but you can’t humour me with the idea of wackoo’s living on top of a mountain?”  “I just don’t like them. Too chaotic,”  “That’s exactly why everyone likes them,”  “Okay fine, I just stay in my territory,” You shook your head, shrugging your bag back into place on your shoulder. “Okay, that’s fair, they probably don’t like each other anyway,”  “Nope, definitely don’t,” 

You both fell into a silence after, continuing your walk to the bus stop. “You don’t have to go all the way with me to the bus stop yknow-” You started but he just shook his head.  “I don’t mind, love. Really, it’s a nice day out for a walk,”  You nodded. “Okay.”

Silence fell again, and you couldn’t help but look up a little to look at him. Him with his pretty eyes and flushed cheeks. Him with his easy going smile on those nice lips. Him with the nice jawline and cheekbones that are just the right amount of sharp you just want to run your finger over it. 

By the time the both of you had made it to the bus station, you had made up your mind; You were going to ask him for his number. 

Only problem is…how do you ask a cute guy for his number?

You could feel the nerves start to set in as the minutes tick by, and more people pile around the bus stop. It was going to be here soon, and you’ll hop on, and probably never get his number and-

Okay calm down. You fiddled with your bag as the minutes passed, occasional small glances and nervous chuckles with Steven as he waited too, and it felt like the weight of the world was on your shoulders just to ask for a series of stupid numerals.  When you glanced back up at Steven for what had to be the millionth time so far, you noticed in the far distance that the bus was heading this way. Steven turns the other way then too, noticing you staring and he sighed softly. “Ah, there’s your bus,”  “Yup,” He looked back at you, a soft smile on his lips. He picked at his nails, a feeling of anxiety bubbling inside of him. “So…” “So…” You continued for him, and you both laughed awkwardly.  “Can I-” “Can-” You stopped, chuckling awkwardly as Steven shook his head.  “Sorry love- didn’t mean to speak over you-” “No no it’s okay! My bad,” You reassured him. “Go ahead,”  “No really-” He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling. “You start,” “Steven-” You started to protest (why were you even doing that) but he set you with a firm look and you sighed. “Okay. I was…yknow…going to ask. If-” You trailed off. “Yknow…” “If…? Unfortunately love, I’m very bad at guessing games. You’ll have to specify,” You sighed, rubbing a hand down my face. You took a deep breath and right as the bus stopped at your station, you blurted quickly, “Can I have your number?!” It came out in one breath, a quick sentence and Steven’s browns furrowed. You panicked, thinking maybe you had read this wrong? What if he doesn’t want to give you his number? 

But then his face exploded in a wide smile, and his eyes lit up adorably and his cheeks filled with a soft blush. “Oh. My number!” He laughed, soft and clearly full of anxiety. “Yes- right yes, of course you can. Sorry it took a minute there-” He muttered, quickly digging through his bag and pulling out his phone. “Right then, quick quick before you miss your bus-” 

“It’s okay,” You mumbled quickly, steering him away from the growing bus line so you could plug in his number. You did it painfully slowly, double checking each number and going over the series at least 5 times. By the time you finished exaggerating and actually putting the number into your contacts, Steven was tapping his foot anxiously on the ground as he watched the last person board the bus.  “You have to hurry it’s going to close, love,” You looked up and glanced at the bus. “Oh crap-” You quickly fumbled to put your phone away and return his, but by the time you took a step towards the bus, it dinged and the door closed as it slowly started back up to drive away.  "Shit,” Steven tugged at his curls. “Oh god love, I’m really sorry- maybe if we run we could catch its next stop?” Didn’t people always say make the best out of a bad situation? The bus is gone, another won’t be coming for probably another half hour, and you were not running. 

But maybe…maybe this was a good thing? 

You shrugged, trying to sound as upset as you could possibly gather, but even to your own ears it sounded fake. “Oh no….the bus is gone. This is horrible. What do I do now?”  Steven started to say something, but then stopped, frowning a little, before his eyes widened and a smile grew across his face. “Hang on-” He stepped closer to you, his eyes glittered with humour. “You planned that, didn't you?” You gasped. “What? Me? Why would I ever want to miss my bus?”  “Hmm….” He tapped a finger to his chin, thinking loudly. He leaned down then his face barely inches away from your face. “Maybe because you wanted to spend more time with me?” He has no right being cute and nervous one second and then sexy  and all mischief the next.  Your eyes widened, you felt your skin heat and your cheeks flush pink with how close he was. His eyes looked even prettier up close, and his lips looked so kissable.  “Really?” You managed to breathe out. “You think I’m that captivated by you?” He shrugged. “Maybe.” He paused, biting his lower lip. 

Fuck. 

“Are you? Captivated by me?” He asked.  “Hmm. Let’s see…I think your nerdiness and awkward attitude and shy personality has definitely captivated me, Mr. Grant,”  His face explodes into a bright and beautiful smile. “Really? So if I asked to go on a walk right now, you’d say yes?” I hum, pretending to think it over. “I think…yes, I would absolutely say yes,” The look on his face made it seem as if he just experienced heaven. Your heart fluttered, and you knew then that you’d never ever get tired of seeing him this happy. “Brilliant. Great, alright then um..” He stood up straight again, looking around. “Let’s go?” 

You smiled, gesturing to the roads bustling with people. “Lead the way,” 

[p3ndeja6]

⋆¸*ೃ☼ ⋆¸*ೃ

band au! Stan marsh x y/n

AGED UP! AGED UP! AGED UP!

summary: you were part of Stan’s band, crimson dawn as one of the lead singers, you and Stan had an established relationship but ended things badly due to lack of communication (on his part) everything he did or you did annoyed each other, but how can you guys continue playing together if you guys hate each other

warnings: swearing, arguing, marijuana usage, alcohol consumption, implied sex, angsty, jealous Stan!, maybe smut (probably)

2.6K words

not proof read (my bad)

(idk how many words this got so.. my bad pt 2)

you were currently on Wendy’s bed groaning and whining. you were so fed up and annoyed you could literally punch the next person that breathes next to you.

“Cmon y/n, it can’t be that bad anymore!” Wendy said. Wendy has been trying to cheer you up for over an hour making you forget about what happened at the crimson dawn meeting.

“no Wendy you don’t understand, Stan tries to always take control on everything the band does, we literally can’t fucking breathe anymore, all he does is nag and nag and nag, I can’t fucking stand him” you got up in anger clutching your hair in distress trying not to pull your hair apart, you might be getting grey hairs over this whole thing

“you’re only saying that because you guys broke up on bad terms and you still have to play alongside him y/n”

you and Stan dated for almost over a year before calling it quits. You truly did love that boy but he never tried to put any effort in the relationship anymore after the fourth month of dating. It’s like he lost complete feelings. That wasn’t the case though, he just had a hard time trying to distinguish if your feelings were as true as his but because of all the trying to decipher he lost complete focus on your relationship, resulting in never ending arguments and constant degradation

you loved him so much it hurt you physically after the break up, it took you a while to get yourself together.. for the band. Crimson dawn was getting recognition around South Park county and neighboring counties as well. You guys were getting paid for each gig. You had to continue even if it meant you had to play alongside your ex boyfriend, who you secretly still are in love with but won’t admit to anyone.

You didn’t notice but Wendy brought a box of tissues to you, you hadn’t realized but you were crying. You didn’t know how it happened. But you willing accepted the tissue, wiping your eyes and covering the pure white tissues with black eyeliner and black mascara

“I know it’s not easy, but the band is something you love, don’t let Stan ruin it for you this much.”

She was right, you loved the band, jimmy, butters and Kenny made being in the band fun and bearable

“yeah I guess you’re right-” as soon as you finished your sentence you got a phone call, you looked at the caller ID and it was Stan. You waited a few seconds before answering. “what’s up?” You spoke

“uh hey we just got a gig at some guys party, so come meet at my house in 20 minutes, don’t be late” he replied

“yeah sure whatever, I’ll be on my way” you hanged up in annoyance

“We just got a gig, Wendy by any chance did I leave any extra clothes here?”

You turned around in hopes she did have something you can wear. “Do you mean this?” She held your favorite outfit you forgot about months ago, when you slept over. it was your favorite dress, the flowy ,lacy black dress that made you feel and look so good on your body. God bless, you were already wearing your doc martens. All you had to do was add some finishing touches to your hair and face.

“how do I look?” You asked in worry

“fucking hot, honestly, like I literally could bang right now”

“oh my god! Wendy!!” You laughed at the explicit comment she made

you arrived at Stan’s house in a hurry hoping no one will noticed you were slightly late, you were dreading this but you just couldn’t wait to perform beside Stan

“You’re late y/n” Stan spat

“yeah by a fucking minute, what’s the big deal” you nonchalantly responded, finding your seat next to Kenny.

“the big deal is I told you to not be fucking late and that’s the first thing you do, gosh can’t you understand simply directions?”

“here we go again” Kenny said in humor while taking a sip of his beer

you angrily got up to his face, “You know what jack-ass fuck you, who gives a shit, it was just one fucking minute, why are you bitching about 60 seconds?”

“no fuck you-”

Butters went in between you and Stan who were standing so close to each another

“okay guys! we’re all here Stan cmon tell us what we’re doing” butters shakily said

he took one long second to stare down at you, clearly still pissed off

“okay fine.. I was going to say, that we got a call from one of Clyde’s cousins who’s having a party up in Jefferson county. Just 25 minutes from here. So let’s get ready to head up there”

you all agreed and started gathering your equipment and putting it in the van (that said tegridy farms). It was quiet but not an uncomfortable quiet. You were trying to put all the equipment in the van , fixing the boxes, and the instruments, when stan came up to you.

"y/n... look im sorry i yelled at you..... but seriously dont be late"

" stan i wasnt even that late... i dont know why you are making a big deal out of this... but i accept your apology" "lets just go.. okay?"

"yeah... okay"

As you went inside the van, you sat in between kenny and butters, while stan drove and jimmy sat in the passenger seat. As you were heading towards Jefferson, kenny lit up a joint, taking one huge puff. exhaling and coughing, kenny passing it to you. You received it by taking it in between you thumb and index finger. taking a big puff, you exhaled and then quickly inhaled it all back. Kenny laughed, "oh wow, didn't know you knew how to do that" you giggled and give him a small slap on his shoulder. "please kenny, you were the one who taught me"

The van started to fog up and the herby, skunk smell started to flow around the van, almost disgusting you in a way, creating a bit of a headache due to the "skunk" smell. As you were laughing it up with kenny and butters you had a feeling you were being stared down. You were, Stan was looking at you guys through the rear-view mirror, clenching his jaw and hands, created white marks on his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel.

Once you guys arrived at clyde's cousins place, you could see all the people outside on the porch laughing, drinking, and smoking. Speaker music faintly coming out through the doors and windows. Colorful lights spinning all around, like a rave almost.

"alright guys, we're here.. we are going to do our best and make everyone know our name... couple ground rules before we go inside... Kenny dont try hooking up with anyone, please we seriously dont have time for that.. actually that goes for everyone. thats it lets go"

"please dude, i'm not gonna have sex... i didn't bring any condoms, plus cartman thought it would be funny how hard he can kick me in my fucking nuts. wasn't fucking funny"

You chuckled giving him a reassuring pat on his back and walked inside with him cursing out cartman and how hes a fat fuck who gets no bitches whatsoever.

You walked in and saw how everyone was dancing and singing and having a great time. you then saw a couple that kind of reminded you of you and stan, they looked so in love and so happy to be in each other's arms. you missed stan and you missed being with him, you didnt realize you were staring until jimmy kicked you with his crutch. "cmon on y-y-y/n" you snapped out of it and proceeded to help the rest of the guys set up. making final adjustments and being ready to perform.

"alright guys, you guys ready?"

"ready!"

"alright.. 1 .. 2 .. 3.."

the jimmy started to bang his drumsticks, and then kenny started with his bass.

you were their lead singer, as you were ready to begin singing you tried to get into the mindset, you know what song was first and it was a song you composed for stan. nobody really knows what the real reason was for the song, you just lied to them saying its based on a scene from a movie you saw.

you took one last deep breath, looking to your left you saw stan, smiling at you and nodding to you, signifying you'll do great. stan knew whenever you were scared or nervous... and knew what to do to calm you down.

you started singing, keeping in the rhythm by tapping your foot, you started to gain confidence as the chorus began to start. you took the microphone off the stand

send you my love on a wire

lift you up everytime

everyone, ooh

pulls away, ooh

from you

you were dancing and whipping your hair to the beat, staining the microphone with your red lipstick, moving your body to the beat and feeling the confidence rise up, when you saw everyone in a big pile, you did the unthinkable, you dived into them, crowd surfing the decent sized group of people, you were laughing and thanked the people who brought you back onto stage.

stan couldn't believe you just did that, he knew you were extroverted but didnt know it to this extent. he fell in love with you all over again. it almost pained him that you were no longer his, because of him, because of how stupid he was with words, how he lost the most important person in his life, the person that made life bearable. he wish he would fix it, could fix your guy's relationship.

the song was ending and you made sure to dance to the every end. as you guys were wrapping up, you had a 30 minute intermission before the last song. You got out to find yourself a drink, heading into the kitchen, it was a really big kitchen, marble countertops and porcelain walls. you found yourself the jungle juice they had, a bit strong for your liking so you only pour yourself a little bit. stan saw you and as he was about to go over and hopefully have a genuine conversation, some prep looking guy came up to you instead. he stood there observing, almost like a creep, but he means well

"hey! im clyde's cousin derek!' he semi shouted

"oh hey!, great party you have here"

"thank you, hey you were really great up there, you have such a great voice, and your performance skills is amazing, that crowd surf has everyone talking about it!"

you were a bit embarrassed that you actually did that. "yeahh sorry about that, i dont know what got into me. i dont usually do that, i just sing and dance really" you chuckled shamelessly

"nah nah you're good!" he looked at you with lustful eyes, he was getting close to you... like really close. you didnt really want to but he were craving the lips of somebody's. Stan was watching this all unravel and he started clenching his jaws. He immediately swooped in and grabbed you by your arm.

"hey whats your problem?!" he ignored your shouts, until he took you in a coat closet. he was intensely looking at you. unfortunatley he was a couple inches taller then you so you had to look up at him. there was this energy that made the temperature in the closet hotter.

"y/n"

"'y-yeah stan"

"im sorry..."

"for what?"

"im sorry for being a horrible boyfriend, i should've never shut you out, nor ignore you when you needed me the most. im so so sorry y/n.. and- and i cant stand you being with other guys, i cnat stand the fact they get to kiss you instead of me- i want to be the only guy holding you, kissing you, caressing you, everything, i want you to me mine... and only mine.. no one else's."

you were in a sort of shock, you didn't know what to say. the thing that you could say was, "stan i-"

you kissed him so passionately, he reacted a second late until he started to kiss you back.

"jump"

he said. you oblied to what he said and jumped. you wrapped you legs around his torso gripping him tight into your embrace, he started to kiss you down to your neck, making you lean your head back into the wall, moaning at the sensatiuon he gave once he found your sweet spot

"oh god, how i missed those noises that come out that pretty mouth of yours"

this made you even more wet then you were before. in a swift motion he took off your dress to reveal your through lace bra, your harden nipples poking out. He pinched them through the fabric, making you moan out in pleasure. You were loud since there was music playing, so no one could hear you scream in pleasure.

you were left in your underwear and bra, stan removed your underwear and started to rub circles in between your lips, using your wetness to lube up his fingers to slowly glide them in. making quenching noises as he pumped in and out of you at very slow pace. His thick fingers making it hurt to fully consume him. He moaned to the feeling of your warm spongy walls trying so hard to take him fully, and this was just his fingers.

"fuck stan, please go faster please.. please" you were begging for more, this drives stan crazy but he wanted to take his time with you, he wanted to make you feel good, make you only scream his name.

"yeah? you want me to go faster? cmon.. y/n enjoy this moment with me"

he started to pump even faster, catching you off guard. you gripped on his shoulders, trying to calm your breathing.

"yeah like that, yes!"

"i just remembered you were gonna kiss that douche out there"

he stopped his movements, and quickly pulled out his fingers

"fuck stan!" you exclaimed

he unbuckled his pants and pulled both his pants and boxers down, revealing his long, red, needy, tip. You smiled at his leaky tip, shakily rubbing all the precum all over his sensitive tip.

he moaned and bit his lip, "you like that?"

you kissed him one last time, "fuck stan, please- please just-just shove it in me"

he wasted no time, and roughly pounded in you. you held a tight grip around his waist and shoulders. he held onto your waist, watching himself disappear into you wet cunt. you had moved your head to the side moaning and winning at the pleasure you were enduring.

you were so close and so was he. he grunting became whinning and whimpers. you held onto his face looking at his beautiful eyes

he breifly looked down and back up you

"y/n im gonna-im gonna cum"

"me-me too"

"i love you"

he pounded one last time into you and let his seed fill you up to the brim. your cum and his began to drip down to the floor, he stood there a moment. both of you trying to regain energy and steading your breath.

you got off of him and leaned back onto the wall. Trying to process everything that went down.

“I love you too”

you both smiled, and cleaned yourselves up. Until both of you heard a loud knock.

“Cmon you fucking weirdos, we have to do our last song!” Kenny shouted from the other side.. "also stan your a hypocrite, you said no hoo-"

"yeah yeah i know what i said"

you both laughed and continued cleaning the closet of any unwanted substance

“y/n I do really love you”

“I know stan… I love you too”

[creepycranberry]

Poetry On Perspective

Eddie x EnglishMajor!reader

This is just something I wrote after consuming too much poetry (I tried okay?)

I think Eddie would like Bukowski.

Warnings and notes: she/her pronouns, some swearing, not proofread, not much of an ending, kind of open ended (might do another part, idk)

I hope y’all like it :)

<3•<3•<3•<3•<3•

“I’ve read bukowski,” she starts, up on the stage with her hair swept up behind her head, her bangs tickling her eyelashes as her eyes look downward to focus on the words she had previously written on the page, “and I’ve seen what Dickinson had to say. Two thoroughly different viewpoints, differing outlooks on love. With no more in agreement than that it exists. A man who talks of lovers and sparrows, and the whores and the pigeons. And a girl who speaks of death and men, and her garden and love.”

Jeff’s face was screwed up and gareth was shaking his head.

Eddie had read bukowski.

Eddie had referenced bukowski.

Hidden in the folds of a guitar riff and rock ballad were the stanzas to The Twins.

“Bukowski is an empty bar and a calloused hand and Dickinson is a robin at a bird bath and a carriage ride with an old friend. Perspective is a mistress who never appears the same for more than a month. She changes as the wind does, ebbs and flows depending on her mood.”

Eddie didn’t understand the entire point of the girl’s rambling.

Then again he wasn’t meant to be here. He was supposed to be an hour away in a hotel with a cigarette. Maybe a joint.

A flat tire had landed him on the side of the road, band members and equipment in tow. A bus of college students drove them into town, grant found a phone and called someone to help get the van but until they got it into town the guys were here.

They had watched the students go up one by one and read off nonsensical passages in their journals.

Eddie hadn’t been paying attention until the pretty girl came up on stage. Her sweaters hem a few inches above that of her skirt and her black nail polish chipped as she avoided the gaze of the crowd and flipped through her notebooks pages.

Her notebook was covered in doodles of different flowers and fish and post-it notes bloomed from the top of the thing until about halfway through where the pages were pristine and likely unused.

What had mainly caught his attention were the tattoos on her legs. Different patches of sharks and flowers adorned her skin. One in particular went from just above her knee and crept around the back of her thigh and up into her skirt.

He wanted to see what the rest of it looked like, what images the upper expanse of her thighs might be hiding and did her arms match?

“Perspective changes when she pleases. One day she can be the same as ever, grass is grass and flowers bloom and babies laugh, and the next maybe the grass weeds and flowers wilt and babies wail and fuss. A year is a week, a day is a decade. Your grandparents got married yesterday and you broke up with your ex a lifetime ago. Grass is grass, it’s meant to hold the dirt together, grass is weeds meant to invade your fathers yard so you never stop hearing about them. Babies laugh and babies cry but you don’t have to worry about that because you’re single and might die alone so you might never have babies. Your boyfriend was your everything and now your ex is the reason you smoke. Etc.”

She ends her rambling and closes her journal, looking to the rest of the small bar for critiques and hopefully some encouragement.

“It could use some clarity.” A boisterous voice pipes up and Eddie scans the crowd for the perpetrator.

A guy with thick rimmed glasses and patchy stubble stares up at her, his face the picture of audacity.

“I thought her point was perfectly clear.” Eddie shrugs and the guy looks over at Eddie before sighing.

“Her transitions weren’t clear, her sentences could be more concise. Her rambling could be poetry if it were only a bit more clear.” The guy offers.

“Or you could argue that adopting the style of bukowski and melding it with the imagery Dickinson was prone to using.” Eddie argues and the guy pauses thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line as he pulls together his thoughts.

Gareth and Jeff exchange a look of confusion at Eddie's knowledge of poetry and literature while Grant seems to be enthralled with the argument between the two boys.

“That’s a good take. I just mean that the initial examples of Dickinson and Bukowski could be better transitioned into her next points about perspective.”

Eddie nods, “I could see why you would make that argument but I kinda like the rambling. She’s writing how she thinks. Thoughts don’t always transition seamlessly, I think it’s pretty cool to just hear someone’s thoughts on a subject and I like that she gets you to think about it yourself.”

“I guess that’s just perspective for you.” The guy shrugs and Eddie grins, silently agreeing with him.

Eddie turns his attention to the girl in front of the class, “the personal touches were nice. Your writing was relatable. My uncle is probably outside our house fighting with the weeds right now.”

The girl smiles, “thank you, Eddie.”

Eddies eyebrows raise at his name. He didn’t know how she knew it but fuck did it sound nice when she said it. She smiled and stared at him through her bangs, pulling her notebook to her chest to discreetly reveal the doodle of corroded coffins' first album cover.

She stands up and goes back to her seat. The next person comes up but Eddie isn’t paying any attention to whatever they have to say.

He’s too stuck on her. Too obsessed with never letting his eyes leave her to even consider whatever the fuck the asshole on stage has to say.

He wants to try and talk tk her after all of the readings are through but as the students file onto the bus grant blocks his view of her, letting him and the guys know that the van is in the shop at the moment getting the tire changed and they should able to get back on the road in an hour or two.

By the time Eddie looks up from grant the bus doors are closing the girl is gone.

[smooth-perceval]

“Merde, I love her.”

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Charles and reader are best of friends, always flirting and joking but always swore never to date. Charles then realises he loves her and doesn’t know how to act around her.

Warnings: Swearing, friends to lovers, pure fluff, Google translate, no proof read.

Key: Y/N (Your name), Charles and reader have been friends for about 6 years.

Word count: 4,068.

A/N: I got a bit lost half way through this- idk some parts seemed rushed but we are just rolling with it, hope you enjoy! 🖤

Y/N P.O.V:

Me and Charles was like two peas in a pod, when together we was in our own world. If one of us was somewhere the other never too far. We’ve been like this for the most of our 6 year friendship, the only thing to ever get between me and Charles was ‘Girlfriends’ and ‘Boyfriends’.

That being said truthfully I would say that was jealousy on both parts, we both had the same mentality Charles was my only closest friend, he was mine first before any other girl, and prioritised before any of the boyfriends I had- you could blame that on the reason they never lasted more than a few months.

Each boyfriend had their own way of blaming my Charles, but it wasn’t his fault that I chased him around like a love sick puppy. Charles wasn’t to blame that I had this burning crush on him since 6 years ago. That’s my own doing, but I also squashed them feelings when I learned that we can be friends and nothing more- because I couldn’t risk losing someone like him, I always say, having someone like Charles in your life is better than no Charlie at all.

“Y/N?” Snapping my head up from the floor in front of me, stood there was a very concerned Charles. Face still red from free practice, hair damp and pointing in every direction, his overalls opened but not off his shoulders and yet he still looked good.

“Yeah? Sorry- did you say something? How was the car?” I took my purse off my lap standing up and placing it back on the chair behind me.

“It was okay- are you okay?” Tilting his head slightly, he let his hands rest on either shoulder, eyes laser focused on my face like he was trying to read whatever I was thinking about.

“Oh I’m fine- I just zoned out that’s all.” Waving him off with a smile, my hand then come up to pat his chest before moving away. One thing I have noticed about that little “crush” I had months ago- I cannot be in close proximity with Charles otherwise the need for him only grows. So I made a rule, keep Charlie at a arms distance, that way I can’t notice the little details in his skin, or the way his cologne smells stronger when I’m on his right side compared to his left you know the little things you tend to notice when your whole world revolves around one person…

“Okay-” Charles was right behind me as I walked towards the car examining it myself. Like I had any idea what I was looking at or saying, it really only was for a distraction. Cause I will think about him constantly and them white fireproofs his got on, then it’ll wander to what’s underneath...

Eye rolling to myself I leaned to look inside the car. “So how was the car?”

“I said- it was good chérie, we’ve got good pace so… hopefully a good weekend” (Darling) Smiling he stood next to me also looking in the car.

“What you looking for?”

“Charles… I have no idea.” Laughing we both moved away as I went to grab my belongings. “I’m gonna go change and stuff then we can go out?”

I nodded pulling the bag strap onto my shoulder “d'accord, I’ll be around” (okay) gesturing around me we both exchange a smile before Charles ran off.

Humming to myself I take a slow walk down pit lane, some drivers doing exactly what Charles is, some speaking to their team and some having a wander also. And to my luck, I bumped into lovely Lando.

“Hi Landiniho” he spun around his smile then disappeared into a scowl. “Oh it’s you.” I shook my head laughing a little as he then pulled me into a tight hug. “Has Charles kept you hidden all day or what?” Shaking my head again I pulled back from the hug. “I’ve been in my own world all day truthfully… I didn’t even realise practice had finished until Charles came back-” Lando let out an exaggerated gasp with his hand on his chest. “Oh no- the worlds going to end.” I rolled my eyes at him smiling a little, always the dramatic one.

“Come I’ll walk with you for a bit, then back to the garage.” Lando held his arm out like the little gentleman he is and I looped my arm through giggling. “Your a strange guy Lando.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Charles P.O.V:

When I got back from showering and getting changed, I headed back over to the garage to speak with the team. Truthfully, I was eager to be back around Y/N, she is like a breath of fresh air, a sunflower amongst roses. During practice I just thought about her being in the garage waiting for me, and that alone would cause any man to put his foot down, pedal to metal.

Sliding back through the door I bumped into Carlos who gave me a smile and a pat on the back, we exchanged little conversations about the car before both sitting down with the team. And I couldn’t help but seek her out, is it strange to say I knew she wasn’t here, the room felt dull, it felt stuffy. Where did she disappear to?

Sending her a quick discreet message I put down my phone and begun listening in and giving my input. I didn’t really want to be here now, I wanted to be wherever she is. I know that wherever she is, the world feels even better. Even sitting here I felt off, like I was going to be sick, she was my antidote always… Has been since 2017,

I always told myself it’s a small crush that I’ll get over- but to hell I’m 25 and this crush isn’t going away anytime sooner.

Pierre is always saying I’m whipped by her, that I chase her around like a lost dog. If Y/N leaves, I leave, Y/N doesn’t like it, I don’t like it. Y/N loves it? I love it and try and repeat whatever it is 100 times after. I was infatuated with her smile, her laugh, she is my comfort person whenever it’s a bad weekend, she is the first one to text on race week when she cannot attend, I love how she calls me Charlie when she’s in her teasing ways, or the firm Charles when she knows I’m being stupid. How when I’m driving sometimes she would come on the microphone and tell me how proud she is, I felt like everything I done and do is for her. I just want her always around.

It’s such a stupid little crush…

“Well Charles?” Snapping my head up I looked around at everyone staring at me.

“Huh?”

“We just went over some strategies for tomorrow- wasn’t you listening?”

I opened my mouth to speak, looking over at Carlos who was only laughing behind his hand at me. “Sorry…” mumbling I straightened myself up in the chair trying to focus as they all tutted and groaned.

The sound of a door opening behind caught everyone’s attention, we all watched as she slide back in trying to be as quiet as possible. Someone else also trying to squeeze in next to her-

“Lando?” Now all eyes back onto me- I didn’t mean to call his name out loud it was a shock reaction- why was Y/N with Lando? And why are their arms linked and they’re all giggly and smiley? What the? A thousand thoughts went through my head at once? Was they together and she didn’t tell me? She would’ve told me-

“Hi everyone!” Lando smiled pulling Y/N into the circle with everyone.

“Lando- they’re busy let’s wait outside…” watching Y/N get so close as she whispered away in his ear, it infuriated me. She keeps me at like a 2foot distance- but Lando? She is all over him, like a heat rash on a hot summers day.

I couldn’t stand it- was anyone else thinking the same thing. Turning my head away from them I looked straight to Carlos, who was already looking at me with a small smirk playing on his stupid face.

I shook my head glaring at him, before quietly gagging. The sound of Carlos laughter broke the silence everyone now snapping their heads to him. I took this as an opportunity for an escape, standing abruptly I stormed for the door.

“Charles- where you going?” The way she says my name, it’s like honey dripping off her tongue- so angelic, it made me want to fall to my knees and beg her to repeatedly say it, beg her to just choose me.

“I need five minutes-” mumbling quietly I pushed open the door they entered in.

I cannot believe it- I genuinely felt sick- even with Y/N in the room, it’s the worst sickness I’ve ever felt maybe because she is the one causing it- tugging at my hair I started pacing up and down outside the garage-

Maybe I’m over thinking it- maybe I’m being dramatic. The door opened again, and I turned to see who, praying she had chased after me, but it wasn’t her… Carlos stood there smiling happily at me.

“Well you composed yourself.” Shaking his head he walked over clasping my shoulder.

“I feel sick, why didn’t she tell me Carlos?”

“Tell you what? She went for a walk?” I don’t know-” he turned to look at the garage confused and around at the pit lane.

“No toi idiot! Elle et Lando?” (No you idiot, her and Lando?”

“I don’t understand- something Lando” shaking his head again looking, if possible, more confused.

“Her and Lando!” I threw my hands in the air like I had made it the most obvious situation in the world.

“Ohhh- your jealous.”

“Yes- wait no! No.” Copying his movements I shook my head violently.

“I am not jealous.”

“You are, because Lando has got her and you haven’t”

“They might not be together so, and that wouldn’t make me jealous.”

“Then why have you stormed off as soon as they walked in.”

“Because”

“Because?”

“Because I did”

“Because why though?”

“Because!”

“Becauseeee?”

“Because I love her!”

We both pointed at each other, trying to shift blame onto each other for my sudden outburst and declaration of love.

My arms slouched and hung down next to me like I have waved a little white flag in defeat, maybe it wasn’t a crush after all…

Stepping away from Carlos I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to scrub of any evidence that I had just screamed about my love for a girl I can’t be with. All because I’m scared to ruin a friendship I so need. Because having someone like Y/N in your life, is a happy life, to me.

Sighing out, hands still covering my face I couched down to the floor, trying to ground myself somehow. Carlos crouched down with me rubbing my back.

“Merde, I love her.” (Shit) I shook my head in utter shock looking up at Carlos. “And I can’t tell her.”

“Why not? Would be fun, no?”

“No, it’ll ruin everything, I need her in my life wether she is with someone or not-”

“Even Lando?”

“Did she say she is with Lando?”

“No.”

“Then why say that?”

Carlos shrugged smiling “funny”

Tutting Charles shook his head letting out another loud sigh, “come, let’s go listening about this strategy.”

“I’ve already listened once.”

“Well listen again.” Charles held the door as Carlos walked in mumbling swear words in Spanish.

Y/N P.O.V:

As Charles stormed off outside, my heart only ached, my eyes followed him all until the door shut.

“Two minutes-”

Just as I went to chase him, Carlos stood in front holding his hand out. “I got this-”

“Are you sure?” Nodding his head he opened the door sliding himself out.

I don’t know what happened- maybe they had a tense conversation in here or something I don’t know-

“Lando I think you need to go anyways, they’re discussing team stuff.” I turned back around and smiled apologetically at him and he hummed waving me off. “Yeah my lot are going to be wondering where I am.”

Leaning in I gave him a hug with a little squeeze. “And back to earliers conversation just, talk to the girl. She maybe feeling the same way…” I leaned back wiggling my eyebrows at him and then leaning in nudging his shoulder.

“Y/N you look like my mum right now.” He raised his hand in my face and wandered towards another door. “Bye Ferrari friends.” He shouted over his shoulder slamming the door. Such an annoying dweeb. Smile I apologised to the team for interrupting. And for Lando…

“Y/N you can sit if you want to-”

Shaking my head quickly I smiled slightly. “It’s fine, tell Charles I’ve headed out and will be waiting in the car.” Some nodded in response and I said my goodbyes running out to Charles car and waiting. Charles always left it unlocked in the car park for tines when I needed 5 minutes. It was like my very own escape room.

Maybe Charles was annoyed that we disrupted the team talk? I didn’t even think about that- stupid stupid girl.

I sunk down into the chairs pulling my phone out my purse realising I had a message from Charles,

Charlie🏎️

Hey, where you gone? Need you here.

Smiling down at my phone, like a giddy school girl I just stared at the message. If only he knew the things he said have such an effect. My poor little heart.

I texted him back just to reassure him, and kind of because sitting here with no Charles is boring.

•sent

Charlie, I’m in the car,

Sorry for interrupting ❤️

•Read 6:27pm

Sighing, I started looking through photos of today putting a few on social media, messaging people back and typing out some emails as I waited. About 45 minutes later the drivers side door opened and Charles slipped in.

“Sorry, we had to go over a few things-”

“Sorry I interrupted the meeting- I didn’t know they was going to be one on at that time-”

Both looking at each other, a small smile crept onto both our faces and we broke into laughter, we both spoke at the exact same time, both apologising for no reason whatsoever, both being stupid.

“Truce?” I held my hand out to Charles and he glanced down at my hand and then nodded his head, shaking my hand ever so gently, like he was scared to touch me. Like I was going to burn him.

“Are we still on for dinner tonight with the others?”

“I was just going to say, did you want me to drop you home or?” Charles now stared at his steering wheel fiddling with his keys.

“Oh has everyone cancelled?” I pulled my seatbelt over myself turning back to look at Charles.

“Well no…”

“Oh?…”

I paused for a second confused, before it clicked, maybe he just wants five minutes without me? I mean I walked into the garage he walked out- now he doesn’t want me at the dinner maybe I’m around him to much which is understandable. The guy needs to breathe-

“Okay, homes fine.” Smiling slightly at him, it wasn’t the best smile, I couldn’t hide that I was a little offended but that’s just cause of this weird attraction thing to Charles. It stings when someone that you like doesn’t want you around sure.

“Y/N I didn’t mean- you can come it just. I just wasn’t thinking right I’m sorry.”

“Charlie it’s okay, I don’t mind going home” smiling a bit more genuine, I leaned over patting his forearm. Which only caused him to freeze. The jingle of his keys stopped and he just stared at my hand.

“Charles?”

Clearing his throat he started the car heading for my house.

“You can come if you don’t take agesss to get ready.” A little smile was on his face

Tutting and shaking my head with a smile.

“Charlie if you so desperately want me there- you just have to say” teasing back, a small laugh came from Charles as he turned his head slightly before back at the road.

“I always want you around-”

Smiling to myself I looked out the window, trying to hide the blush on my face. What a stupid crush.

We finally got back to my home, and Charles followed me in going straight to the kitchen and rummaging through my fridge for food. “I’m timing you!” Challenge accepted.

Scoffing at him, I ran for the stairs kicking my shoes off and running up to change.

I quickly went through my wardrobe picking out a simple black dress and some heels, my makeup still looked okay from earlier and so did my hair, which I had just pinned back.

If there was a pit stop trophy on how quick my changing skills were, I definitely would’ve took home that trophy. Breathing out heavily I quickly grabbed a purse and chucked my perfume inside it just in case and a few items of makeup.

I leaned down grabbing my heels and ran back down the stairs, “how quick was I?” Heavily panting and probably bright red I stood in front of a frozen Charles.

He stood there with a bowl of pasta and a fork in his hand just staring at me.

“Well?” Sitting down on the stairs I start pulling my heels on and tying the string round, every so often glancing up at Charles who hasn’t moved one bit.

“I don’t think you can come-”

“Oh shh Charles. You said be quick so you get what your given.” Laughing a little I held my hands out to Charles to help me back up.

Putting down his food and wiping his hands he pulled me up, now chest nearly touching, I could feel his body heat, our chest only touched when we both took a breath. The closeness of us both was like an unbearable magnet, neither of us pulling away.

“vous êtes belle.” (You look beautiful.) It was like a whisper of secrecy between us both. My heart rate quickened as I watched over his face, waiting for him to laugh and nudge me, but nothing, his face was stone cold serious, his eyes telling a thousand things.

“toi aussi.” (So do you.)

It felt like hours we was both standing there, hands holding each others tight and close to our chest.

Then realisation kicked in on Charles- he quickly stepped away shaking his hands and looking around for the bowl and fork before rushing back to the kitchen.

Me? I was still stood the reeling in what the hell just happened, Charles is playing hot and cold with me- one minute we’re absolutely fine, next we’re the most awkward people to be around. I was getting whiplash from the sudden changes. It didn’t feel great at all…

The awkward tension continued in the car all the way to the restaurant, only little to none conversation. As soon as we got out the car, Charles was right next to me like something had switched in him again. Rolling my eyes to myself I adjusted my dress and purse before trailing into the restraint, a smile soon plastered on my face.

“Bonjour” smiling at everyone I looked around the table for somewhere to sit, Lando being my go to option out of the empty seats. With a teasing smile I crept round the table sliding into the seat next to him.

“Not you again-” rolling his eyes at me, the smile of his face giving away his joking manner. “You can never get to far from me Landiniho.” Nudging him I turned to the rest of the table, Charles had forced Pierre and Kika down a seat and is now sitting next to me, I leaned slightly in front giving kika a small wave and asking how she is and we got into small conversation.

The night was quite enjoyable, every now and then I would feel Charles leg against mine, or his hand would brush mine on the table, the burning on my face evidently gave away at my true feelings.

“Did you get told off when you went back?” I turned my body slightly to Lando, when doing so I felt a hand on my knee, my leg felt like it was going to fall off- why is he doing this to me? Lando shook his head quickly taking a sip of his drink.

“Of course not, I am their driver!” Rolling his eyes like it’s the most obvious thing.

“Your so annoying I’m just making conversation.” He then smiled “you just easy to annoy.” Shaking my head at him with a smile I turned back, Charles hand still firmly on me, now resting on my thigh, at the movement Charles turned also now facing me, once again both very close, even worse this time when he has his hand so securely on my thigh.

“Are you okay?” I raised my eyes brows at him chin resting on my hand. In response Charles just shook his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t talk about it right here-” he quickly removed his hand, and turned away.

Turning my head away from him in annoyance I looked around the table, eyes catching onto Carlos who was potentially trying to kill Charles with a stare. His eyes shifted and he looked at me smiling a little, like his own vote of support from his end of the table.

“Your are stupid.” All this shuffling around was giving me aches and pains everywhere, I shuffled back around to where the voice come from.

“I am not stupid.”

“You are.”

Charles and Pierre are both leant into one another in a heated discussion, their voices growing louder each minute, both going between English and French as they insult one another. This only caught other drivers attention and all conversations went quiet everyone watching this all unfold right in front of them.

“elle connaît l'idiot français.” (She knows French idiot.)

“You know french?” Pierre stuck his head around Charles tilting his head slightly as I nodded, more confused than ever.

“I never realised-” he turned back to Charles now continuing their conversation in Italian.

“se non le dici che la ami allora lo farò io.” (If you don’t tell her you love her then I will.)

“tu mi ami?” (You love me?) my heart felt like it was going to burst through my chest. My eyes were bulging as I stared at Charles. If I wasn’t so caught in the moment I probably would’ve been crying with laughter how quickly both their heads snapped to face me. Charles colour all drained from his face. Pierre red with embarrassment.

“Merde-" (fuck-) they both gasped in unison.

“Fai?” (Do you?) my hand was now resting on Charles arm holding onto him tightly like he was going to slip through my fingers.

“SÌ…” (yes…) he whispered so quietly like he was ashamed to admit it- my eyes softened, tilting my head with a smile. “tu mi ami” (you love me.)

“What are they saying?” Everyone looked at Lando who was looking around the table for answers. Me and Charles? We was the only ones in the room as far as I knew.

“Je t'aime depuis que j'ai 19 ans.” (I’ve love you since I was 19.) the smile only grew on my face, all this time I’ve loved him his loved me. Reaching my hands up cupping his face, scared I might scare him off I pulled him closer.

“Je t'aime Charles Leclerc. Toujours avoir.” (I love you Charles Leclerc. Always have.)

He let out a puff of air he must’ve been holding, before leaning in both capturing each other in a kiss-

That type of kiss that tells every feeling you’ve wanted to say but wouldn’t dare let slip past your lips, the same lips that are now telling every secret you ever kept from one another.

The type of kiss that seals every “I love you” you had wished you said all them years ago.

It was a kiss that said,

My Charlie always had my love.

And always will.

A/N: okay I kinda rushed it cause I just wanted to get to the confessions 🥲 I’m sorry <3 hope you enjoyed though. 👀

Masterlist

[matthewkniesys]

i know it won't work - trevor zegras

summary: You let go of Trevor but why can't he let go of you? You know it won't work so why can't he see that? You're only trying to save each other from more heartbreak than necessary. You just want him to be happy.

a/n: this is the second fic in my good riddance by gracie abrams fic series. you don't have to read the first one for this to make sense. so this is my first song fic so please be nice. idk if i did it right. everything in bold is the song lyrics. i recommend listening to the song but you don't have to. i really do love this fic so hopefully yall will too🫶

pairing: trevor zegras x gn!reader

warnings: angsty and some swearing

good riddance fic series

The last year has been hard for you. Nobody ever told you how hard graduating highschool would be. Everyone paints graduating as this big celebration. You're never warned of the hard choices you’ll have to make and the people you’ll lose. The one person you never expected to lose was your childhood best friend and boyfriend of 3 years, Trevor Zegras. And you could never have predicted that you would be the one walking away. Not him.

I left you there 

Heard you keep the extra closet empty

In case this year I come back and stay throughout my 20s

Your body is drained of any energy. Moving into your dorm room has sucked any will to do anything for the rest of the day out of your body. You’re excited for the new chapter that University will bring to your life but you’re also mourning the loss of the life you had before. You feel like a different person since everything in your life did a complete 180 a few months ago. 

Leaving Trevor was probably the hardest thing you’d ever done. You didn’t just lose your boyfriend that day, you also lost your best friend. It was what needed to happen though. It was this one day when he made a comment about how he would follow you anywhere and give up hockey in a heartbeat that made you freak out. You had to cut ties. Trevor loved you in an all consuming way. You loved him in a nostalgic kind of way. In the way that you two had been best friends forever. You loved him but slowly you were realizing it wasn’t in that same romantic way his love for you was. It was not purely but more platonic. You couldn’t ever see yourself marrying him and so even though it hurt both of you, leaving was the right decision. If only Trevor could understand that. 

Picking up your phone to check social media, you see you’ve got a missed call from a friend, well she’s probably your best friend now, since you walked away from Trevor. You choose her number from your recent contacts and let it ring until she picks up.

“Hey, y/n, how are you? Are you all settled in?”

“I’m good. It was a real tight fit, to get everything in the dorm but it worked out. How about you? How’s your dorm? I can’t believe we are literally on the opposite side of the country now.”

Your friend laughs, “ Yeah, it was quite the tight fit here too. The dorms are tiny. But I’m doing good. I’m excited for classes to start.”

You pause for a second, wanting to ask the question that’s been burning in the back of your mind for weeks now. You wanted to know how Trevor was. Trevor and your friend had always been close. When you walked away from Trevor you didn’t want them to have to end their friendship so they still hang out.

Stuttering, you ask,” Hey, um how’s Trev doing?”

“Are you sure you really wanna know?” Yes, you are sure. At this point you feel like you need it as much as you need the air you breathe. You can guess he probably isn’t doing great, you aren’t either but you need to hear it from someone who knows.

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay, well I’m gonna be honest with you.” She pauses. “He’s fucked up over you. You walking away from him really came out of the blue. He blames himself. He thinks he did something wrong.” Hearing that he thinks it’s his fault breaks your heart. All he did was love you with all of himself and you couldn’t reciprocate that.

“I-fuck. Why couldn’t I just love him back? It’s what he deserved and I couldn’t give it to him.”

“Y/n, it’s okay. In the long run this will be better. At least neither of you will be stuck in a shitty relationship. But if I’m being completely honest I think Trevor still thinks you’re gonna come back. Like you’re gonna realize you made a mistake and change your mind. You probably don’t wanna hear this but he keeps the extra closet empty. You know, just in case you decide to come back and stay for good.”

Hearing that, shatters your heart into a million pieces.

What if I won’t?

How am I supposed to put that gently?

And down the road

You will love me until you resent me

You talk for a few more minutes but then you hang up, your heart wasn’t really in it and you’re emotionally exhausted. You feel as if your body is about to combust. Sighing, you toss your phone on the bed and flop back, shutting your eyes and letting your thoughts consume you. 

You shouldn’t go back to Trevor. It wouldn’t be fair to you or him. It would only cause more pain than it’s worth. But maybe a little part of you still wants to. You miss him. There is history there that can’t just be erased. 

You feel like you need to tell Trevor that you really meant it. He can’t keep holding out for you. He needs to live his life. He’s at BU this year and next year he’ll be in the NHL. All you want is for him to be happy. You want him to go out and kiss other people and to find the person of his dreams but instead he’s hung up on you. 

If he stays hung up on you, if he can’t move on he’ll eventually start to hate you. He’ll love you so much that it’ll turn into resentment if it hasn’t already. And even though you broke his heart you really, really don’t want him to resent you. You couldn’t stand it. He still means the most to you.

I’ve had the thought

Tried to work it out through anxious pacing

What if I’m not

Worth the time and breath I know you’re saving?

Despite being tired down to your bones, you slept horribly that night. Knowing that Trevor might be up at this very moment, not being able to sleep because of what you did is killing you. You aren’t worth this much thought or time. He could have anyone. Any kind, beautiful person that he wants. Someone who can give him everything but instead he’s agonizing over you. For fucks sakes he even has a closet empty just for you. He must really believe you’re coming back.

It’s your first night sleeping in your dorm and that isn’t helping either. You look over at your roommate who is peacefully sleeping, wishing you could be doing the same. You grab a water bottle and chug half of it trying to gain your bearings. Your mind is running wild and you need to do something. 

You start pacing back and forth, in your tiny dorm room. You really hope your roommate doesn’t wake up because you don’t need someone you barely know thinking you’re crazy.

You just want Trevor to just move on. To not let you live rent free in his mind. You aren’t even worth it. You’ve seen how many other girls are after him. He could have any of them. You aren’t worth it.  He’s saving too much for you and he needs to let it go.

But it’s a lot

All the shine of half a decade fading

The whole facade

Seemed to fall apart, it’s complicated

You’ve known Trevor for your whole life and liked him for 5 of those years. Until it just kinda stopped. You stopped wanting him so much romantically and you just wanted to go back to being best friends. Part of you, a big part, wished you had never even dated in the first place. 

A few months before graduating everything started falling apart with Trevor. It stopped feeling right, your relationship. It stopped feeling like where you wanted to be. You hoped it would pass but it didn’t. The feeling kept growing and growing until it felt like there was just a huge hole in your chest where something wasn’t quite right. Where something was wrong.

And part of me wants to walk away 'til you really listen

I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different

'Cause part of me wants you back, but

I know it won't work like that, huh?

Weeks fly by but it doesn’t really get that much easier. You’re happy and you’re making friends but you still miss Trevor. And you’ve gathered from talking to hometown friends that still talk to him, that Trevor isn’t really doing any better. You can’t get past the fact that you’re the one making him hurt like that.

It’s completely sudden. You aren’t expecting it. There’s no text, no build up. Just one day out of the blue he calls. You don’t want to pick up. It’s only gonna lead to false hope for him that you want to get back together and false hope for you that he wants to simply just be best friends again. But you can’t help it, you pick up the phone and answer.

“Y/n,” Trevor says the moment you pick up, sounding a little breathless.

“Um, hey Trev.” You don’t know what else to say so you leave it at that.

You hear Trevor mumble, “Oh fuck, there’s no way i can do this.” and then he starts talking.

“Y/n, please, please tell me what I did wrong so I can fix this. I miss you. You’re my best friend and the love of my life. I need you.”

Fuck, you won’t get through this. You can’t stand to talk to Trevor, knowing you both feel completely different. And it’s the fact that he thinks it’s his fault. That he did something wrong.

You desperately wanted to tell Trevor that you would come back, that it could be like old times but you can’t. It would be a lie. It could never be the same ever again. 

A part of you wants to go back and just say fuck it. You want your friendship back so badly that you’re willing to fake the romantic part. Maybe you’ll eventually for real fall back in love with him. It’s possible, but you know that’s not right. It won’t work like that.

“Trevor, you didn’t do a single thing wrong. It just wasn’t working. It wasn’t meant to be forever. I have so much love for you still but not in the same way that you do. We can’t keep doing this to each other. We need to get past this. Hanging up the phone was hard. Sitting with your thoughts after was harder, but you’ll get through it. You did the right thing.

Why won't you try moving on for once? That might make it easy

I know we cut all the ties but you're never really leaving

And part of me wants you back, but

I know it won't work like that, huh?

In the weeks that follow you don’t hear anything from Trevor. Until mid November and then everything starts seeping back in.

First it’s a text. A simple, hey, how are you? And you know you shouldn’t respond so you don’t. And then it’s pleading. It’s text saying we need to talk or I miss you. And you almost respond to those because you can’t bear to think that you are causing Trevor so much pain. But again you hold out and don’t respond. It’s when he starts picking up the phone and calling that you can’t stop yourself.

He called you once, you didn’t pick up. He called you a second time, and still you restrained yourself, but the third time was when everything went crashing down.

You had been having a really shitty day to start off with and you were already in the worst of your feelings, so when Trevor called it’s like it breaks a dam inside of you. A wall that had been holding strong but was now toppling over.

You pick up the phone and for a minute it’s just dead silence. You hear Trevor’s breathing so you know he’s there but he hasn’t said anything. So you decide to speak first.

“Trev, I thought we agreed to cut ties. We can’t keep doing this. You need to move on. This isn’t healthy for either one of us.”

“ Y/n, you’re the one who said we should cut ties, I never agreed. I need you in my life. I miss you.” The desperation in Trevor’s voice makes you want to cry. It makes you feel as if someone took a jagged piece of glass and cut open the wound that was slowly starting to heal. The wound that you inflicted by walking away. A part of you still wants him. But you can’t. You just can’t. It isn’t possible.

I'll open up

I'm thinking everything you wish I wasn't

The call was tough

But you're better off, I'm being honest

You take a deep breath. You need to give Trevor the closure he needs and then leave for good. You need to explicitly say that this won’t work. You need to tell him without any fancy words that he needs to accept that you're not the one for him.

“Trevor,” you plead, needing him to listen, “You need to walk away. I’ve been trying to for months now but you keep pulling me back in. I’ve already moved on but you’re the one who won’t let me leave. We were what we were but we can’t be that anymore. I’m not the same person I was 3 years ago and you aren’t either. Let me go and in the long run we’ll save each other a ton of hurt. I love you but this won’t work. You have to let go. I’m gonna hang up and you aren’t gonna call me again.” You pause, catching your breath. “I wish you nothing but the best. Goodbye, Trev.

You sit in silence for a moment. It was hard. You have tried telling him goodbye before but this felt much more final. After all the other times you tried saying goodbye to Trevor, you still felt as if there was more to the story before it would be over. You hoped the story was over now. It was the best thing for you and for Trevor.

So won’t you stop

Holding out for me when I don’t want it

Just brush me off

I’m your ghost right now, your house is haunted

It took all of five minutes for Trevor to call you again. 5 fucking minutes. God, all you want at this point is for Trevor to move on. To realize this is the best thing that could’ve happened. You don’t pick up. You need to set some boundaries. You can’t keep picking up the phone when you don’t wanna talk. He needs to just brush you off and move on.

But he calls 4 more times that night. And you’re scared it won’t stop. So you pick up. Of course you do. It’s that little part of you that still wants him back that makes you.

“Trevor, you need to stop. I’m sorry but we can’t. I don’t know how many times you want me to say this. I know this won’t work the way you want it to or at all. So please I’m begging you stop. Put both of us out of our misery. You start moving on so I can finish letting go. Trevor, don’t call me again or I will block your number. I don’t want to because for some reason it just feels wrong. But I will. Goodbye, Trev.”

You hang up and this time you know. It’s final. Trevor won’t call again. You’re sad but more than that you’re relieved. You can finally start living again.

It’s as if for these past months you’ve been this ghost for Trevor. One that would constantly follow him. You were haunting him and know you’re finally being set free.

I know it won't work like that, huh?

It’s been years now. You don’t think about it often but every once in a while Trevor will pop into your mind. You’re happy. You really are. And from what you see on social media, Trevor is too. 

You try not to dwell on it but sometimes you think about what might have been. What might have happened if you had gone back to Trevor. And honestly you aren’t sure. Maybe everything would’ve worked out and the two of you would be happily together right now. Or maybe it would’ve ended up being exactly what you thought would happen if you went back. 

You truly believe you made the right decision in letting Trevor go. You knew it wouldn’t work the way he was envisioning. And hopefully you spared the both of you a lot of heartache.

You’re happy right now. That’s what matters. You and Trevor don’t talk much except for the occasional birthday message but maybe that was how it was supposed to be.  You knew it wouldn’t work like that and you made the right decision, for you and for Trevor. You had and still have so much love for him and that’s all it’ll ever be. And you’re okay with that. You really are.

thanks for reading 🫶

good riddance fic series

taglist: @woodruff-edwards @nicohischierz @makarhughes @cobrakaisb @huggy-hischier94 @boldysswld@cole-mcward48@kashee-h@kjohnson-91 @jackhues @corneliaskates

join my taglist

[kairithemang0]

it always hurts to think about the fact that Tatiana was the one who said “Owen” when he came out from behind the curtain and not Curt. Curt just stands there, shocked. He’s terrified, he freezes. The first thing he says is “how are you here”, and then “why are you here”. I swear, this poor guy. And the fact that Tatiana, who has only really heard stories of Owen, and maybe saw a few pictures if Curt kept any and decided to show her (I’d like to think he did keep a picture of Owen on him, dunno it’s cute) just knew that it was Owen. It’s just the way that Curt freezes, the way he walks back just a bit when Owen starts talking, just trying to figure out how Owen, Owen who’s been dead for 4 years, could possibly be here, and not only that, could be the deadliest man alive, the man who tortured him days prior. I’m rewatching the scene now, it’s been a minute, but the way Curt stutters at “how are you here” is so painful. He left Owen, he wanted to put Owen behind him and he wanted to move on, meanwhile he’s being confronted by Owen mere days after he finally got back on his feet. I feel like “you’re dead” is more of him trying to get himself to believe Owen is still dead now, I think in some way he’s experienced this before, some type of hallucination trying to make him believe Owen is still there. And yet here stands the real Owen, who is not only alive, but wants him dead and wants to go against everything they ever believed in. Ugh the way Owen insults him is everything to me, because in some way it is true, Curt is arrogant and impulsive, he probably did feel like the dumb one on the team at multiple points. Ughhhhh what if these were insecurities he actually told Owen? What if he was able to open up to him about the fear he’s arrogant and impulsive and was made to feel stupid by the people around him and Owen reassured him at the time he wasn’t and now he’s the one telling him? Sorry I’m overthinking this scene I just love it. And then the one time Curt gets something right HE STILL INSULTS HIM. Off topic but Curt’s “rocks?” Is so cute to me idk why it just is. Rocks? Gah I love them. Owen’s little annoyed slow turn after “huh” is everything to me IM SORRY IM LOSING MY MIND.

Ok I meant to do this months ago but here’s my overthinking of the line of “I’d be god, what kind of a world would that be?” You can’t really see exactly who he’s looking at, but I swear it’s Curt. He’s looking directly at Curt and saying that a world where he’s god would be better than this one. At least that’s how I’m reading it. honestly I doubt Curt or Owen believed in god at that point, through all they’ve been through, for all the things they’ve done, though the fact that at this time homosexuality was seen as “sexual perversion” and against the will of god. I dunno, I’m really overthinking this. I don’t know where I’m going with this tbh, frankly that’s all of my posts

the way Curt hesitates at “good thing we’re here to stop you” is interesting to me. Does he want to stop Owen? I mean yes of course he wants to stop this plan of his, but does he want to actually hurt Owen at this time? I think he’s still processing the fact Owen has been the DMA, that Owen tortured him. I think at his time he isn’t set on killing him, that maybe things could work if he somehow gets Owen back on their side and thinking clearly. I think once he kills the informant, that's when he really questions it. The informant isn't just some random person who they need to kill to get out of some warehouse, he's someone Curt knows and may not be close with but does care about. Owen didn't need to kill him, he just sort of wanted to.

I think the fact Curt at first wanted to go and destroy the compound is interesting, he knew what was going to happen by then. He knew one of them wasn't going to make it out alive and that this wasn't going to end well. I'd love to see a Tatiana staircase scene with Owen, I don't think it would be as emotional, but I think it would reveal a lot more about Curt and Owen's relationship. Tatiana, even if Curt hasn't explicitly told her he and Owen were once together (i think he did personally), it would be interesting to hear Owen's point of view on that. Actually I may write that... hmm.

Well here are some really incoherent thoughts for yall