thick lenses

Reconnecting (Dylan O'Brien x Reader)

A/N: this one is completely inspired by Dylan being in SA because I’m in SA rn


Warnings: angst, smut smuttty smut


Pairings: Dylan O'Brien x Reader, Andrew Garfield x Reader (Platonic)

***

“You don’t need me anymore.”


The words left your mouth as thought they were a simple fact, without implication or emotion. Dylan wondered how you could do that - how you could keep your voice so calm when your words had shattered his reality from where you stood, the table between the two of you acting as a physical and metaphorical barrier.


“How can you say that?” He asked, his eyes painted an angry red and his hands shaking. You sighed deeply.


“Because it’s true.” You replied simply, and Dylan continued to stare at you in shock. He made a move to reach out and grab your arm, but you side stepped him. “No. Come on. Don’t do that. You know it is. We’ve been over for a long time now Dyl. We’ve just been too scared to do anything about it.”


He let out a laugh that was anything but humorous. A hand flew to his head, where he tugged on his hair in frustration. “Is that what you think happened between us? That’s what you think we’ve been reduced to? Just a pair of morons who were once in love but now too scared to leave each other?”


His words felt like a slap to the face but you didn’t allow it to show. There was a long beat of silence and when he realised you didn’t have a response, smiled bitterly.


Suddenly, he slammed his fists down on the table so hard, it made you jump. “Answer me!”


But you couldn’t. You couldn’t give him a straight answer, not after hearing the way his voice broke. You couldn’t give him an answer, knowing deep down that you weren’t being honest with neither him nor yourself.


“That’s not what we are.” Dylan said quietly, his voice dropping to a sound barely above a whisper. He looked into your eyes with something truly desperate within his own. “You have to know that, baby. This can’t be it. I- I love you too much to let you go.”


Dyaln dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut. You wanted to run, to get as far away from his little apartment as possible. Because you knew that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to hold your ground. If you stayed here any longer, your resolve would break and you would *never* be able to truly walk away.


“I refuse to believe that that’s what we’ve come to.” When he looked at you again, Dylan had tears streaming openly down his face. His eyes were bloodshot red and his fists gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles went white. He leaned further on the coffee table, as though he was barely keeping himself upright.


“We’re so much more than that.” He told you with such conviction, you believed it to be true. “We aren’t one of those couples who are gonna grow to resent each other regret it.” Before you could stop him, Dylan had crossed the table and taken your face in his hands, cradling it gently.


You didn’t realise you we’re crying until he wiped away a tear.


“(Y/N) we’re forever. We’re the old couple who sit bickering on the front porch but love each other anyway. We’re the ones people look at and think ‘are they still together’ because fuck yeah we are. We’re the couple that’s gonna dance to out song when we’re seventy and can barely move. Baby, we’re infinite.”


“That’s a nice story.” You said, wrapping your fingers around his wrists and pulling his hands off of you. “But it’s not ours - it can’t be. Our story ends here. I’m so sorry Dylan.”


And with those final words, you grabbed the handle of your bag and walked out of your shared apartment, closing the door behind you.


You knew he wouldn’t follow you out - he respected your choices enough not to.


You knew that he wouldn’t talk shit about you once you were gone - he loved you too much to do so.


And you knew that once you got on that plane to your new acting gig in London, he wouldn’t follow you because he thought that you didn’t love him any more.


***

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” The flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras were enough to blind, even through the thick lenses of your sunglasses. It was inevitable. You had recently filmed a new movie with Andrew Garfield and it was set to be a booming success. As a result you had to deal with a ridiculous amount of rumors about your personal life and his.

“Come on (Y/N)! Smile for the camera!” One yelled.

“Congratulations on the engagement!”

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Have you and Andrew picked a venue yet?”


You continued to ignore them as you made your way through the airport. You’d arranged for your luggage to be taken care of to avoid mass hysteria and you knew that a car would be waiting outside for you, in a predetermined location.


When you got there, a huge grin overtook your face.


“I thought you were still in Australia!” You said happily, making your way over to the Ford.


“Wanted to surprise you, as all.” Said Andrew, looking just as glad. You laughed and thanked him as you got in the passenger seat.


You and Andrew Garfield had become good friends over the duration of filming. It wasn’t your first movie together and you knew for a fact that it wouldn’t be your last. Although the two of you had pointedly decided not to take your relationship further than the occasional fuck (Andrew was still hung up over Emma), you shared a close relationship with him.


Andrew understood what it was like to have to leave the love of your life. He knew that sometimes, you just needed someone to cuddle up to, or fuck you senseless until you forgot why you were upset in the first place.


You didn’t know what to call your relationship with Andrew, but you relied upon him a great deal to keep you going and vice versa.


“When was the last time you were in South Africa?” Andrew asked, eyes focused on the road.


“Um, about two years ago.” You said, pointedly deciding to forget how awkward it had been when you returned to see Julia and met Brit for the first time. “Last you were here was to film Hacksaw Ridge, right?”


“Yeah.” He shrugged. “There are some places I wanna check out before I leave. I’m leaving tonight for the Oscars on Sunday, and you’ll have to excuse me for saying I’m pretty exhausted from all the flying every other day with you.”


“Fuck you.” You said playfully. “I’m awesome to travel with.” The press tour for your movie ended in California where you would give your last interview together on Ellen before the premier and then it was over but that was only next week. For now, you were here in Cape Town.


“I beg to differ.” Andrew said. “But I will agree with you on the first part.”


You shrugged, not questioning it. Andrew would sometimes have these days when, out of nowhere, he’d become extremely in need of physical affection or emotional support. You never called him out on it because you were almost always the same.


“My place.” You said. “I wanna check out the new hotel.”


Andrew shrugged and agreed, but your new hotel wasn’t the first stop. He took you out for lunch, insisting that airplane food wasn’t real food because ‘For the love of God, (Y/N), it tastes like dirt!’ Afterwards, you went for a quick walk on the beach, during which your jeans became filled with sand and uncomfortable.


“I didn’t even get a chance to swim.” You pouted, walking in through the door that Andrew held open for you. He laughed as he removed his shoes.


“Well it was your genius idea to go in waist deep while fully clothed.” He said, pulling off his still wet shirt and throwing it in the hamper in one of the rooms.


“Do we have a pool?” You asked, walking further around the room. You reached the glass doors of the patio and smiled. “We have a pool!”


“Really?” Andrew asked, walking up to you. He had taken off his shirt and undershirt as well as his jeans, leaving him bare from the waist up with only a pair of black boxer briefs cladding his modesty. “Guess it’s your lucky day.”


You didn’t feel self conscious at all, having to taken your shirt out in front of him. He’d seen it all a thousand times before. You stripped down until you were standing in your undies and made a dive for the pool.


You went in head first and the water was the perfect tempreture. As you swam to the surface, you heard the unmistakable sound of Andrew screaming obnoxiously before feeling rather than seeing him canon ball in.


When you broke the surface, you were met with his grinning face.


“What?” You asked, a hand instinctively wiping at you face. Andrew laughed, not unkindly.


“You’re beautiful.” He said simply. You grinned, swimming the shirt distance between you two and resting your arms on his shoulders.


“What’s wrong?” You asked, because as surprising as Andrew’s bursts of affections were, they were never random.


“She’s met someone.” He said with the utmost care in his voice, which made you grip his shoulders tighter. “I’m happy for her. I am. Truly. I just thought that it would be someone different. Someone who deserves her, you know?”


“Andrew Garfield not liking Emma Stone’s knew boyfriend.” You said teasingly, “Who’d have thought?”


“Oh, shut it.” He said, looking down at you. The words went unspoken, but you knew what he needed. “Are you comfortable with this?” Andrew asked and you nodded, knowing that with being back here your recent dip into loneliness, you needed it too. “You don’t have to do this.”


“I know.” You mumbled, leaning in close towards him. From here, you could see how tall he was. He was standing on his flat feet and the water barely reaached his upper arms. You, meanwhile, were holding on to him to stop from drowning.


“I need this too.” You told him, running a hand over his shoulders before pulling him in close. Without hesitace, you tilted your head up and met Andrew’s lips in a heated kiss.


He let out a sigh, his hands moving to your thighs to lift you up and wrap your legs around his waist. You moaned into his mouth as he walked you backwards through the water until he had you seated on the second step, kneeling down between your legs with the water flowing around you.


You pressed your lips to his heatedly and felt his tongue swipe against your lower lips. Feeling teasing, you kept your lips just the way they were and sucked onthe tip of his tongue when he tried to force his way in.


“Tease.” Andrew said, pulling away to catch his breath. You didn’t get a chance to replied because he had grabbed your ass roughly, causing you to let out a moan of surprise. He seized the opportunity and slid his tongue into your mouth before your lips had even connected.


“You love it.”


***


Three hours later, you awoke to find yourself cold and alone, lying naked on your bed. Memories of your time with Andrew flooded through your mind and you smiled slightly, hugging the sheets to your body.


You couldn’t, however, help but feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. Here you were, in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, waking up alone and with no one to share it with. Sure, you had Andrew but it just wasn’t the same.


The last five years of you life had been lonley, despite your success. Of course, you did have a few boyfriends here and there, but never anyone real, never anyone you’d truly felt a deeper connection with.


Never anyone like Dylan…


You forced the thought out of your head and stood up, making your way to the kitchen. You were staying at the One&Only Cape Town hotel, where you had the most magnificent view of the ocean from your window. Right now, with the sun slowly setting and the reflection of the stars on the water, you felt completely at peace.


A small something of white caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on the fridge. Walking up and reading it, you realised it was from Andrew.


Sorry, had to run. Talking to J.J. about my contact. Meet me tonight at the Era Night Club (call a fucking Uber you lazy shit) and look pretty. Bringing friends.

-Andy


Reading the note once more, you shrugged and glanced at the clock. It was almost 8 and while Andrew didn’t specify a time, you knew he probably wouldn’t expect you before 10 or 11. Going on an impulse, you quickly cleaned up a bit and put on some clothes, deciding to go shopping.


The centre wasn’t far from where you were staying but you called an Uber anyway. In the rush of Andrew getting you here, you hadn’t bothered to pick up a rental, so that was your only means of getting around.


It was there, in that tiny little Colette store, that shit hit the fan.


You were going through items on the rack, looking for something to possibly wear tonight. Your hand stopped on a cute black number, and you grinned, humoring yourself and pulling out the leather dress that left very, very, very little to the imagination.


Holding the piece over your body, you looked up at the mirror, which ran along every wall and almost dropped your basket.


Standing there, staring at you with the most shocked look on his face, was Dylan O-fucking-Brien.


For a long moment neither of you spoke. You stared at him, watching a range of emotions flicker across his face (you were almost certain the same thing was happening to you) before he plastered on a smile and approached you.


Immediately you lowered the dress, wondering if you still smelt like sex from earlier. Dylan stood in front of you, smiling gently and you heart rate began to pick up, panic overtaking your body.


“Hey.” He said calmly, hands tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. You smiled back, a bit nervously.


“H-Hi.” You replied, taking a moment to look him over. Obviously he was older, considering the last time you had seen him was almost three years ago, but it wasn’t that. He looked tired, sick even. “Are you okay?”


Dylan’s smile faltered slightly before he stood up a little straighter. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He said lightly, and you too fixed your posture. “How’s it been going with you? Heard you’re dating that Garfield guy.”


“We’re friends.” You smiled, but it felt absolutely fake. You hated this; hated how this was some kind of battle of wills where neither could show any weakness. “How are you and Brit doing?”


Again, his smile faltered but returned stubbornly. “We’re awesome. I mean why wouldn’t we be? It’s not like I don’t need her anymore.”


You physically winced, both at his words and at the tone with which they were said. Low fucking blow, you thought. Immediately, regret filled you ex’s eyes and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, that was-”


“It’s fine.” You said because you honestly didn’t give a fuck. You couldn’t meet his eye when you spoke again. “I’m happy for you, Dyl. I’m really glad you found someone.”


You put the bag and dress down, spinning on your heels and making a b-line for the door. “(Y/N) wait-” you heard Dylan call out after you, but you very pointedly ignored it.


When you finally stopped walking to wipe your eyes, you were already outside of the mall. You looked ahead at the calm, settled ocean outside and screamed into your hands.


***

By the time Andrew rolled around, you were back in bed, snuggling up with Mr Pickle, your stuffed Teddy, and cleaning out a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.


“I thought I told you to meet me at the club,” he said, walking through the doors. You looked up at him and immediately he was at your side. “What happened?”


“Ran into Dylan today.” You said, voice sounding bitter. “Had a lovely little chat.” Andrew didn’t say anything; he simply wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in close.


You clutched onto him like a lifeline and began sobbing into his shirt. Andrew stiffened. “Imma kill the bastard.” He promised, tucking you in closer and gently drawing circles on the small of your back.


“I- I’m sorry,” You said, face still buried into his chest. “I’m being stupid. Haven’t seen the guy in three years and the first thing I do is make a sodding fool of myself.”


“Hey, shh,” Andrew cooed gently. “Come on love, don’t say that. You panicked.” He pulled back, wiping the tears under your eyes with his thumbs. “It’s okay now. You’re here, and safe and you never have to see the bloody moron again. Understand?”


You nodded quietly, and Andrew pulled himself completely on the bed. You shifted so that your limbs could entwine and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.


Suddenly, you remembered why he was here in the first place.


“The club.” You said, sitting up. Andrew laughed.


“We’re not going.” He said and you gave him an odd look. “Not with you so heartbroken.”


You thought about it for a minute, remembering that you only had tonight and tomorrow morning left to spend with Andrew before he left for the Oscar’s. “I wanna.” You said. “I want to go, to get my mind off of things.”


He looked hesitant. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”


“Come on.” You said. “This is your last and only day here, and I know you’ve spent all of it sight seeing. One last stop before tomorrow night.”


He watched you with a careful expression before sighing and nodding. Untangling himself from your cuddle, he stood at full length and helped you up.


“Go on then.” He said. “Get dressed.”


You shot him a scandalized look, pretending that you hadn’t been crying moments ago. “With you standing right there?” He grinned, but you could still see the hesitance in his eyes.


“Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.” You gasped loudly and he chuckled. “Okay, I’m going. Hurry up.”


He left and you paused, wondering what to wear for the evening. Quickly, you eyes the Victoria’s Secret shopping bag with the Gucci one next to it. Well, a girl could always use a pick up.


Less than twenty minutes later you were dressed and looking gorgeous. You had on a tight, black dress that showed just the right amount of skin, with a set of sexy red VS underneath (for a bit of a confidence boost, you told yourself)


“Damn.” Andrew said when he saw you. He had straightened out his shirt and, now that you took the time to notice, looked absolutely delectable. “I should fuck you against the wall right now.”


Heat flushed over your face. “Maybe later, gorgeous.” You said, grabbing a clutch and bending down to pick up your wallet, knowing that it gave you friend a full view of your ass. “Let’s go.”


Andrew licked his lips but nodded nevertheless. The two of you set off to The Era and made it there within a few minutes. Immediately, Andrew led you to the front of the queue where you were let in, no questions asked.


The place was booming and full. The loud bass echoed in you ear as Andrew sat you down at the bar and ordered two shots of Tequila. Lights flashed purple and pink and blue, and you saw the way your teal heels glowed in the blue light of the club.


“This place looks awesome.” You told your friend as he handed you a shot. The two of you quickly drowned it.


“It’s supposed to be.” He yelled back over the loud music. “Dance with me.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be meeting your friends here?” You asked, and he smiled cheekily.


“Well, they’re not nearly as gorgeous as you.”

You grinned and stood, making your way to the dance floor and swaying your hips the way you knew he like it. Andrew laughed, but when he came up to you, his eyes were filled with lust.


You danced to the rhythm smoothly, loving the way your hips moved with his. Over the course of the next few hours, you had more and more to drink and soon you were on the dance floor once more, but it wasn’t with Andy.


“Wanna go back to my place?” The guy you were dancing with (James? Alex?) asked in a sultry voice. You grinned at him.


“No.” You giggled, completely pissed “I’m not supposed to go home with strangers.”


“Well I’m sure we can make an exception.” He said and suddenly his hands were roughly grabbing your ass as he made a dive for your lips. You protested against his mouth, but he either didn’t hear you or didn’t care as his tongue tried to pass your lips.


Suddenly, he was being pulled off you and your racing heart plummeted. “Fuck off.” A voice said, and fear filled your heart as a second man stood in front of you. You made a move to step back, to get away as quick as possible, but the man was faster.


He estimated your moves and quickly grabbed a hold of you, almost pushing you away from the crowd of people. You struggled against him, but he was too strong and held on to you too tightly as he pushed out of the back door of a club.


You blinked, doing your best to slow down your heart rate and have a rational thought. Your mind began to swin as you looked around, realizing that you were now in a back alley. You needed to get out, now.


“Are you okay?”


You jumped, both from the unexpected question and the hand that now gently rested on your back. In the light of the alley way, you could now see the face of your attacker and let out a sigh of relief.


“Dylan.” You said, as if to confirm that he was real. With a drop of your head, you took a deep breath. “It- it’s you. You. I’m- it’s you.” The panic began to slowly leave your body as you squeezed your eyes shut, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up whole.


“(Y/N),” he placed a warm hand on your bare arm and suddenly, you realized just how cold it was. “What were you-” he cut himself off, seemingly thinking better than to ask. “Come on. Let’s get you home, okay?”


You nodded, eyes glued to your feet. You felt completely ashamed of yourself, and as your sobriety returned, so did your disgrace. The reality of the situation hit you hard, and you wished nothing more than to disappear, or maybe get hit by a bus.


“Did you come here yourself?” Dylan asked, his voice gently. Your head began to each and you didn’t meet his eyes when you answered.


“With Andrew.” You said simply. Dylan took a deep breath, and finally you looked up to see a mixture of anger and hesitance and, most dominantly, fear in his brown eyes.


“Where is he now?” You shrugged, but you were pretty sure he’d run away to get his rocks off with some red headed girl. “Forget it. You can text him. I’ll drive.”


You nodded and Dylan lead you back into the club. You couldn’t help yourself; quickly, you reached for his hand and gripped it tight, making your way through the crowd. The only indication that he’d even noticed was a small moment of hesitance before he carried on.


The drive to the hotel was deadly silent. You barely raised your head, too ashamed of what happened to say a word. Dylan had opened his mouth to say something twice, but nothing came out.


“One & Only.” Dylan announced when the car came to a stop. “Someone told me it’s really amazing.”


You looked up, opening your mouth to thank him before realizing something. “Shit.” You said instead and Dylan raised a brow.


“Not that.” A flush covered your face. “I left my bag at the club. I- I’ve got my phone, but my key card was in there. They’re gonna give me hell at the front desk.”


You promptly clamped your mouth shut. “Fuck it. I’m so sorry about all of this. I- I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there tonight. So, um thanks.”


Quickly, you made a move for the handle of the door but Dylan’s voice stopped you. “Wait.” He said and you turned to look at him. He looked uncertain, but there was no lie in his voice when he spoke. “You’ve had a shit night and I’m sure you don’t want to deal with more drama. You can stay at my hotel tonight. Deal with all this tomorrow.”


'I don’t want your pity’ you wanted to snap, but honestly the thought of having a warm bed to crawl in to was far more comforting. “Thank you.” You said instead, and Dylan started up the car again.


The drive to his hotel is spent in silence as well, but it felt a lot less tense.


“What were you doing?” Dylan finally asked, five minutes into the drive. You sighed, looking out the window. “I’m serious (Y/N). I thought you were smarter than that.”


“Well, I guess a lot can change in five fucking years.” You snapped, then immediately felt guilty for it and sealed your mouth. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”


After a beat, Dyaln spoke again. “I’m sorry. I’m being a dick.” He said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “It’s just,- God the way that guy was looking at you. I thought he was gonna strip you down and fuck you raw right then and there.” You grinned in spite of yourself, and pretended to not hear Dylan’s quiet mumble of 'That’s what I would’ve done’.


A laugh left your lips. “First day here and I’m already making stories to tell my grandkids one day.”


“You’re gonna tell your grandkids that?” He asked in a mock horrified voice. You laughed again.


“Yeah.” You grinned. “Gotta tell them how not to fuck up. All the shit they shouldn’t do coz they’re gonna regret it a couple years down the road.”


Dylan smiled, but it was a little sad. “We all do stupid shit that we regret.”


The two of you fell into silence once more, only now you were both lost in deep thought. You’d give anything, you thought, to take a look at what was happening inside that pretty little head of his right now.


A few minutes later, Dylan pulled up into a parking space. You didn’t recognize the hotel, but it had a beautiful view of Table Mountain, which was currently glowing with the city lights. He saw the way your eyes stared and laughed.


“Yeah, pretty much the only reason I picked this place.” He got out of the car and you followed, keeping close by. Once you two had gotten into the lobby, you took off your heels and padded with bare feet to the elevator and into Dylan’s suit.


“You can take the bed.” He told you, taking off his shoes and popping his shoulders.


“No, it’s fine.” You said, switching your phone on to see a couple of messages from Andrew. Ignoring them for the time being, you walked over to the couch. “I’m good here.” You we’re sure that you would pass out the moment your head hit the pillow, but Dylan’s laugh stopped you from doing so.


“You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow.” He said gently and you sat up. “Take the bed.” He motioned with his head to a door on the wall next to the balcony. “I’ll get you some water and aspirin and then you can pass out, then it won’t be as bad in the morning.”


Your mouth opened to argue, but Dylan was already at the small kitchenette and you didn’t have the energy to speak loudly, your throat already burning from the too strong tequila. Instead, you stood and stretched and made you way to the bedroom.


Sitting on the bed, you allowed the events of the last six hours to pour over you. The longer you thought about it, the more embarrassed you felt. Honestly, you stopped speaking to Dylan entirely more than three years ago, when he said that he didn’t feel right talking to his ex while being so serious about another girl. To show up now, completely pissed and sleep in his bed was a testament to how utterly fucked up the last few months of your life had been.


You almost stood to call an Uber, but the door opened before you could. “Here.” Dylan walked up to you with a glass and two pills in his hands. “You’ll feel better in the morning,” he paused. “Or at least better than you would have.”


A grateful smile stitched itself onto your face. “Thank you.” You said, and really really meant it. It had been a long time since you had felt this taken cared of, this much at home. Dylan smiled down at you, staring into the depths of your eyes.


A long moment passed before he looked away.


“Um,” he walked across the room to where a set of bags sat, still packed. You wondered how long he’d been here. He dug into the bag and came back up with a white T-shirt which he tossed at you. “That’s probably more comfortable, than well-” he raked his eyes down your form and you blushed gently.


“Thanks.” Your head was ducked so you missed the way his eyes darkened.


“I’ll just- um,” he made a gesture to the door then pretty much ran out of it. You laughed gently, reaching behind you dress to pull the zipper off and walking to the mirror.


By some will of God your makeup had remained mostly in place. You dropped the black dress and smiled slightly, remembering how sexy you had felt when you first put on the lacey red bra and panties.


“I forgot to get a pillow-”


You spun around at the sound of Dylan’s voice, arms reaching up to cover yourself on instinct. The dark haired boy stood halfway in the door frame, apparently frozen and staring at your body.


There was a moments hesitation, where uncertainty hung in the air and neither of you knew what to do. It was only a moment.


“Ah, fuck it.”


Dylan crossed the room in three quick strides and was in front of you a second later. His hands cupped your jaw and titled your head up, lips meeting in a frantic kiss.


You arms wrapped themselves around us shoulders, pulling him closer as his mouth devoured your own. You moaned softly against him and felt the shudder that hit his body at the sound. You filled with pride, knowing that you could still get that reaction out of him.


“Wait.” You breathed, pulling back. Dylan looked at you with concern. “You have a girlfriend.”


He looked sheepish. “Yeah, I might have lied a bit.” You chuckled slightly at his confession, and Dylan smiled slightly. “Do you wanna stop?” He asked, and despite the lust in his eyes, you knew that he was being serious.


“Don’t you dare.” You warned, reconnecting your lips with a kiss more feverant than the last. Dylan chuckled slightly, but met you kiss for kiss as his hands began to trail down your body.


“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, eyes still closed. You felt his hands reached behind you as he unclasped your bra, kissing down your neck. The fabric fell down your arms, and you were sure Dyaln did something to it but you didn’t care.


His hands began fondling you. He gently caressed the soft skin of your supple breasts, as you arched into him. He cupped you firmly, a thumb running over you nipple, which had been hard from the cold air as well as the heat.


“Well that’s hardly fair.” You said, tugging at his shirt. Dylan got the message and pulled back, striping down completely before you pulling you back in, pushing a knee between your legs.


You moaned loudly. “Better?” He asked, hands moving to your thighs. You brought his lips back to your and kissed him passionately as he squeezed your ass and pulled you forward. You got the message, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist while he carried you to the bed.


His tongue battled with yours for dominance which you happily surrendered as he explored your mouth, his body moving against yours. You reach a hand between your bodies and found his cock.


Wrapping your fingers around his member, you began to pump him quickly, running your finger over the slit. Dylan moaned and pulled away. “If you don’t stop, this is gonna be a really shitty night for you.”


You laughed slightly. “Then what are you waiting for?” Dylan grinned, reaching to the bedside drawer and pulling out a condom. He tore the packet with his teeth, *fuck* and rolled the rubber down his length. You watch with a watering mouth.


“I wanna blow you.” You said. “But later.” Dylan moaned at your words and leaned down again to kiss you. He positioned himself at your entrance and nibbled on your jaw as he pushed in.


You moaned, your nails digging into his back. Dylan let out a gruff chuckle. “God, how are you so fucking tight?” He asked, pulling back almost completely before thrusting in again, hard.


“Oh,” You breathed, hands find his jaw and stroking it gently as you pulled him down for another kiss. His hands were on either side of your head as he kissed you passionately, and you moaned desperatly, wanting more.


Dylan didn’t move.


“Please.” You begged, pulling away for air. Dylan smirked down at you.


“Please what?” He asked teasingly. You groaned softly.


“Please fuck me.” He chuckled, pulling out and thrusting in, slowly.


“Like that?” He asked, his voice deep and raspy. You wanted to scream. He sounded so smooth and sexy, and looking at you with that smug little smirk on his face, you knew you wouldn’t last long.


“Harder. Faster.” You begged, digging your nails into his shoulder blades and dragging them down. Dylan moaned, and you loved the feeling of his hard, thick muscles under your hands.


Suddenly, he pulled out and began slamming in to you, his pace quick and brutal. You let out a screaming moan as Dylan’s hips slammed against the inside of your thighs.


“Oh God, Dyl!” You moaned, clutching on to him for dear life. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”


“So beautiful.” He said softly. “Laying there, holding onto to me so tight. So wet for me, baby.” He moaned, thrusting in harder.


He reached a hand between your bodies and pressed a thumb to your clit, not letting up at all on his brutal pace. You lasted two seconds before you came with his name on your tongue and his hands in your hair.


With a rushed warning, he followed you over the edge one, two, three thrusts later, spilling into the condom and laying over you. He supported his weight on him forearms, as not to crush you, as he looked down at you with something akin to love in his eyes.


For a long while the two of you stayed like that, basking in the glory of afterglow. You stared up at him, remembering, wondering how you’d given it up the first time.


“I never thought I’d hear you say my name like that again.” He admitted, leaning down and kissing your parted lips. You smiled into it.


“Never thought I’d say it, either.” He smiled, pulling out of you and getting up. He walked to the bathroom and got rid of the condom, coming back with a wet towel which he placed delicately between your legs.


Your hips moved up at the touch. He chuckled slightly, cleaning you up and putting the towel back. “I was a bit brutal,” he admitted, joining you in bed, and pulling you close.


“I loved it.” You assured him, tucking yourself into his chest. Dylan sighed and you could feel the tension draining out of him.


“Dylan” you said softly. “Promise me this isn’t gonna be it.”


“I promise.” He didn’t even hesitate. “And you, promise me this isn’t gonna be one of those things we all do that we regret.”


“I promise.”

Nerds Are Cute // 4:11 pm

Pairing: Reader x Tom

Featuring: Tom Holland

Warning: Teasing?? idk

Prompt: you were rushing to go out and lost your contacts.

~~~

You started to get a little frantic when you realized you only had five minutes until you had to leave for dinner with your boyfriend of 6 months. And that meant you only had five minutes to find your goddam contacts before you had to leave.

You couldn’t go to dinner without your contacts because you would be either legally blind or have to wear your glasses. You hated your glasses. You bought them almost two years ago when you thought big frames were in style. They weren’t nor will they ever be. They were black with thick lenses and the frames - oh god - they were so huge you could die honestly. They’re an absolute embarrassment.

One minute. You have only one minute until you have to leave. Your head was swarmed with different thoughts as you glared at random things around your apartment, everything was a blur. Shit. Your minute was gone! You quickly stumbled around until you found your book bag where your lens case was stuffed, pulling on your glasses. Huffing loudly, you trudged out the front door and slammed it shut, running down the stairwell in the building to the bottom floor.In a hurry to make it to the restaurant.

Your boyfriend chose a place on the Upper East Side because he could actually afford to take you to places like that. The restaurant was large, with security guards standing outside because it was one of the most common places for celebrities to eat.

“Name?” The front lady asked.

Smiling briefly you responded. “Uh, Holland.” She led you through rows of tables all seated with mostly familiar faces of celebrities. Your face lit up when you noticed Tom, he was dressed nicely in a fitted suit. He rose when he saw you, placing a kiss to your cheek before sitting down with you.

“You look different tonight.” He looked at you confused when your heart stopped when you remembered you were wearing your glasses.

“Oh, really?” You tried to play it cool. Maybe he won’t notice.

“When did you get glasses?” His eyes scanned over your whole face. Oh gulp.

“I’ve always had glasses,” You said quietly completely embarrassed.

“Really?” He asked astounded. “How come I’ve never seen you wear them?” He asked.

“Well I bought contacts so..” You shrugged it off.

“Okay, right. You look good in them.” He said making you blush, “like my little nerd.” Your nose scrunched in dismay at his choice of nickname.

“Let’s eat?” You changed the subject.

Half an hour into your meal, Tom couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your stupid glasses. “Look here,” he pointed to the back of the bottle of wine he ordered you two, “I simply don’t understand these words. Like potassium metabisulfite. You probably know what that is, right Nerd?” he asked cheekily.

You really wanted to throat punch him. “Oh c’mon, I knew you were always related to Einstein, you could see it in your eyes.”

“Tom,” You sighed.

“What?” He asked, enjoying his steak with his bubbling laughter.

“You’re annoying,” You said. He laughed.

“Babe, I’m only kidding because you do look very adorable in those glasses.” You blushed.

“Thanks.”

Right in Front of Your Eyes - Part 2

Originally posted by thealextheshipper


Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, all the feelings
Summary: After your parents were murdered mysteriously, you move in with your godfather Tony Stark, along the way your normal life will be turned upside down, due to a Mr Parker and being hit by a bus. It will all make sense eventually.
A/N: Basically, you are Jessica Drew but with your name and a slight twist. BTW you’re British, you’re welcome 😉
Word Count: 1800+

Intro | Part 1 |

I hate hospitals. Well, not the idea of saving people’s lives, but mainly the smells and people. The smell of antiseptic, death and misery is not something you can get used to, not being able to move from the waist down sucks, even more, I cried two days straight after I found out. Thanks to that bus I’m now paralysed from the waist down, but according to the doctors, Tony made it just in time with the news that he may have a solution. By that I mean, secretly he’s been trying to replicate Peter’s Spider-Man abilities to form some type of serum, yes, I know Spider Man’s identity, I sort of put two and two together, makes me feel slightly giddy that Peter’s girlfriend only thinks he’s working with Tony for a grant, and that I know more about Peter than she ever has done; what a shock that will be. Peter has been at the hospital with me from the start, I don’t know why, he says that we should ‘bond’ and now that I can’t walk, he knows I won’t run away. It’s funny really, he apologised straight after saying that, but I was in hysterics. Anyway, back to the serum; Tony asked me if it was okay to inject me with it, I said yes straight away before he could even tell me side effects, or even what would happen. I mean what else can I lose? (I really shouldn’t jinx myself, I mean I’m a disabled orphan for Christ’s sake). So, plans were made, which brings us to now. Looking at the clock I have 10 minutes until my life is going to change – again – For better or for worst.

Keep reading

MATT // MASTERLIST


Request: Hello, I really love your writing!! And I also really miss Matt the radar technician! So I was wondering if you can write a modern!matt where the reader and him are close friends that have feelings for each other and she sticks up for him bc he gets picked on. Idk something like that. But yeah! You always know how to make your stories amazing! Thank you!!

A/N: I’m so glad I received Matt requests bc I miss that son of a bicth……thank you, anon, for the request! Enjoy :) [gif not mine]

Word Count: 2.5K+

Warning: None


Matt was, what you called, your average ‘nerd’. His glasses were as big as his head, the silver rims and thick lenses that hugged his nose. His attire was always neat and in place–although the opposite went for his bright blond hair. Now that was a mess. It was hard to keep the curls looking nice. Brushing them weren’t an option and neither was jelling it, so he let it be.

Keep reading

You never read my poetry,
never noticed that my notebooks
were covered in your memories,
in horror stories and vivid dreams,
begging your love to blanket me.
I’d shiver and you kept it to yourself.
You didn’t care that I stared at
the world with thick-lensed glasses
and you didn’t know that what
you saw was a blur. You made me
believe I was making something
out of nothing instead of learning
the tune to my something, instead
of feeling it get caught in your throat
like blood filling up your lungs.
I sang yours all the way home to you.
It felt like sunshine and melted ink.

I thought I would be devastated
when you left. And I was.
The first time. The second time.
The third time. The fourth time,
I still let you coat my pillows in tears
and I felt bad for you. I thought
I owed you something because
you wouldn’t take the something
I had to give you. I thought I had to
keep pouring myself into you
until you felt it, but now I know
I can’t fill you and it is not
worth being devastated over.

So I’m thankful you got to fill me.
I’m thankful when I forget the sound
of your voice, I’ll still remember
the way you’d stumble over your words.
When I forget what you look like
from far away, I’ll still remember
the color of your eyes from up close.
My memories of you are warm,
like fire, like growth, evolution,
the way nature will keep existing
long after our love dies out. I always
begged for you to worry about me,
to wonder why I was so distant,
but with my passion fueling me,
I always used my own fists
when you didn’t fight for me.

So if you are trying to read between
the lines of my poetry now, if you
are finally wondering how I’m doing,
all this poem is saying is this:
Don’t worry about me.
I’ll be okay without you.

—  Melted ink
paragon || part 1

Originally posted by monstalways

paragon // part 2

pairing: reader + chae hyungwon

genre: college!hyungwon, romance, angsty-fluff

word count: 1141

summary: by serendipity or ill-fate, your life becomes entangled with that of your university’s poster boy whose two-faced personality makes you question if you’ll ever truly know him, even if you’re unquestionably in love with him. 

the acoustic live for beautiful ruined my life so here’s my coping mechanism. hope you enjoy ! [p.s. i might have a couple ideas for a second part to this so message me if you’d like to see more c:]


To most, he’s the epitome of a perfect student. The face of the school, well-acquainted in reputation with every professor and student, unparalleled in intelligence. Myth, deity, cure for cancer; Chae Hyungwon.

“Good morning”

He passes you in the bustling hallway with firm, effortless steps. He blends seamlessly into the university’s polished atmosphere, with his slender frame wrapped in crisp, white linen and the sleeves of a navy blue sweater. You savour a glance at the curled corners of his rosy-pink lips before he brushes past your shoulder and fades into the Monday monotony.  

“Good morning” you echo belatedly.

Unable to comprehend your own thoughts from that point onwards, a day’s accumulation of lectures and libraries seeps into obscurity and the faint scent of a lukewarm Caffè Americano. Jiyoo grips your arm as you stumble over a stick on the pavement.

“Okay,” she grunts, helping you regain your balance, “so you’ve been staring at the ground all day and yet you can’t even walk in a straight line. Explain that to me.”

“I would if I could” you mumble, dropping your forehead onto her shoulder.

“You know this isn’t good for you,” she gently pats your head, “whatever this is.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

The long bus ride home to the outskirts of the city encompasses intense conversation and Jiyoo’s acute bewilderment, as you divulge the intricacies of a particular encounter with a certain individual between deep, defeated sighs.


The library slept, quiet, desolate, leaving only the sound of your fingertips tapping softly against the table and the impatient ticking of a clock. 11:12pm. Having given up on the exploration of power in Machiavelli’s ’The Prince’, you packed your things and meandered through the dimly-lit aisles of literature towards the exit. You found him tucked into a corner between two adjacent bookshelves, snoring lightly behind an open copy of ’Julius Caesar’ that masked his face. Knowing that the library would be closing in just 15 minutes, you hesitantly approached and knelt down in front of the peculiar figure.

“Sir?”

“Hm.” He sat up swiftly, making the book to topple onto the ground. You stuttered backwards when his face was suddenly inches away from yours. Even in the dark, you recognised his clement, brown eyes magnified softly by round frames. The corners of his lips curled as he sluggishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“Alas, I’ve finally been exposed,” he laughed before tilting his head to grin lightly at your perplexed expression, “unless you can keep a secret.”

Keep reading

Once on a yellow peice of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
and he called it “chops”
because that was the name of his dog
and thats what it was all about
his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
and his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts.
that was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
and he let them sing on the bus
and his little sister was born
with tiny nails and no hair
and his mother and father kissed alot
and the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X’s
and he had to ask his father what the X’s meant
and his father always tucked him in bed at night
and was always there to do it

once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
he called it “Autumn”
because that was the name of the season
and that’s what it was all about
and his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
and his mother never hung it on the kithcen door
beause of the new paint
and the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
and left butts on the pews
and sometime they would burn holes
that was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
and the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see santa claus
and the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed alot
and his father never tucked him in bed at night
and his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it

once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
and he called it “Innocence: A Question”
because that was the question about his girl
and thats what it was all about
and his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
and his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
that was the year Father Tracy died
and he forgot how the end
of the Apostles’s Creed went
and he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
and his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
and the girl around the corner
wore too much make up
that made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
becuase it was the thing to do
and at 3 am he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

that’s why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
and he called it “Absolutely Nothing”
because that’s what it was really all about
and he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
and he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didnt think
he could reach the kitchen

—  The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Why does this book still own my ass [part 2]

part 1

  • Ari is actually noticeably shorter than Dante
  • Hugs from behind are gr9 bc Dante can comfortably rest his chin on top of Ari’s head and feel and smell his nice hair 
  • Ari and Gina end up being the same smol height (5'4’) but Susie just fucking shoots up to maybe 5'10 (these numbers mean nothing to me use the metric system please) 
  • Susie wears a hijab and Gina has very tight curly hair 
  • Ari is def stronger than Dante so in most cases he’s able to pin Dante down but when Dante manages to pin Ari down Ari just kinda goes weak and his limbs becomes jelly and just kinda melts under Dantes weight and doesn’t fight back much after oh mannnnnnn
  • -*stares at linette* beefCAKE
  • Sometimes he lets Dante win
  • A lot of times actually
  • What a fucking child Dante you’re a year older please
  • Dantes physical affection rubs off onto Ari and in time he starts kissing his parents on the cheek more often and Jaime/Santiago is the first to notice it but doesn’t really object to it or say anything
  • Dante gives those super jovial and tight hugs that completely envelop you (he is big and with a broad back I’m sure he would wrap you up) and sometimes lifts you off the ground bc hes taller and  sometimes he just tackles I love how uncensored he is (giant golden retriever)
  • Whereas Ari’s hugs are the slow kind that you melt into like youre being consoled and warmed from the inside and he slowly brings your closer to him as the hug progresses and he presses into the person and the other person nuzzles their face his hair bc he’s got very nice hair
  • [yes those are from that post i drew that post]
  • They both really suck at dancing tbh like they think they’re good bc they don’t dance with other people but one night when they do go out with gina and Susie to dance or party they look like complete idiots oh my God
  • And Gina and Susie just slowly back off
  • “I’m sorry who are you I don’t recall coming with you???”
  • No amount of good looks can save you Dante
  • Dantes Cathedral classmates like to tease Ari (all good hearted) bc Dante probs never shut up about him before they kissed and probably didn’t after
  • Dante can’t grow a beard lmao his facial hair is so shit
  • And sometimes he takes it personally bc what if he isn’t macho enough by Mexican standards
  • Ari can grow a decent beard but probs keeps or clean shaven so Dante doesn’t feel bad
  • DANTE WEARS GLASSES BIG RED FRAMED GLASSES ( THANKS ANDIREE)
  • Soledad used to be a swimmer [probs despite her parent’s protest] before Sam and a few years after Dante was born.
  • She sounds rlly stubborn and headstrong from how she upped and left her family [probs dante got that too that lil shit]
  • She also wears big bifocal lenses those thick thick ones
  • That’s probs where Dante gets his closeness to swimming from
  • They probs go clean up aunt Ophelias house during the school holidays and they discover all the weird shit
  • And Ari starts to sniffle and tear up
  • He swears its the dust but Dante knows its a lie and just holds him again
  • They stay there while cleaning up bc driving back to El Paso probs takes too long and dante never actually keeps his promise to drive 
  • (maybe he doesn’t like cars I wonder why)
  • he just sleeps [i think someone else had this HC too]
  • Aris hair is actually lighter than dantes hair like maybe a chestnut brown, just a shade darker than his own skin compared to dantes almost black hair
  • Aris leg scar becomes less sensitive to touch but he still winces out of habit when something grazes him
  • Dante has scars from being beat up
  • Over the years they get a lot more scars bc theyre reckless and stupid and their bodies become an album of all their adventures together (ty izzy!)
  • THEY ADOPT CHILDREN
  • Dante really enjoys sleeping on Ari (when the weather isn’t too hot) he likes listening to his breathing and the warm and everything
  • Even when they’re so close together Dante needs to be closer
  • And not just his chest ok sometimes he just drops onto Aris legs and falls asleep how annoying
  • Ari likes Dantes big sweaters and keeps taking them and returning it when they don’t smell like him anymore
  • “Ok you’ve worn it long enough it smells like you I want it back”
  • It’s not even the detergent that Soledad uses its Dantes smell whatever the fuck that is
  • His /musk/
  • And when Soledad gives him a sweater as a gift he makes Dante wear it for the smell again
  • Dante (secretly) likes brushing Aris hair??? Sometimes he braids it when Ari isn’t paying attention to piss him off
  • “I’ll shave your head if you don’t start doing this yourself”
  • (a very empty threat bc beautiful hair and Ari being his little che guevara)
  • Ari rebuts “that’s my mum’s job” in an attempt to make it awkward
  • This was the boy who replied “one night my parents had sex” when asked where he came from
  • Liliana is thankful that someone brushes her son’s hair bc it would be a fucking mess if he was left alone
  • You know what was popular I the 80-90s
  • Crop tops
  • u know who probs wears crop tops
  • both of them
  • When Dante walks he always has a slight bounce and always seems to be walking to a beat and Ari just loves that about him he’s so full of energy and life
  • And likes to jump around places like from 2 steps down or across a curb
  • On Aris 21st dante serenades him with LA BAMBA
  • GUITAR AND EVERYTHING
  • Ari gets so red its incredible
  • They instinctively hold each other a lot everywhere like the hands the arm shoulder the clothes sometimes their bags.
  • More often Dante than Ari
  • Ari regularly tells Dante that he can’t fight for shit and that saying fight me means people will actually fight you
  • Ileana comes up somehow probs bc Gina blabbers and Susie is like oh fuck but in the nicest way possible tbh
  • Aris neck is very sensitive 
  • And Dante knows this 
  • You know where I’m going with this
  • Thigh hickeys 
  • Ye
Where Is My Mind? | Bo Ra ft. Rosé

Where Is My Mind? | Bo Ra (Sistar) ft. Rosé (BLACKPINK)

word count: 2.9k
warnings: a lot of angst, like excessive amounts of angst, mentions of depression (not directly)
A/N: this took me so long to write. I’m sorry, anon! there’s also not as much Rosé as originally planned.






Keep reading

teruelfxonsuvar  asked:

Im drunk and sleep deprived and I just thought id share with you my headcanon that maybe ravus isnt frowning all the time, maybe he needs glasses and doesn't wear them and is actually just squinting because he cant see well

Squinting, having a hard time seeing, Ravus Nox Fleuret refuses to wear a part of glasses – even if that meant having to stare a bit too long at the menu at the restaurant as he and Ardyn are trying to have dinner to discuss ‘important matters.’ You know, the matters of how brilliant Ardyn is, that sort of thing.

Ravus stares. And stares. And frowns before he decides to just make up the first thing that comes to mind in terms of food that might be on the menu. Too bad his first instinct was to say ‘Garlic Bread…’ When they went out to a sushi place. He just panicked and had to rub his temples in embarrassment.

It isn’t until Ardyn digs into his vest pocket and puts a pair of really thick framed and thick-lensed glasses on Ravus’s nose, blessing the commander with the ability to – what do you know? – actually see. Ravus can finally read the Japanese all over the menu, ordering what he wants before Ardyn just tells Ravus to keep wearing the glasses just in case. That, and because Ravus with giant black frames that and a pout on his face was too cute of a sight of Ardyn to change.

And so that’s how Ravus got his first pair of glasses. They’re hideous. But they allow him to see, at least.

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
  he wrote a poem
And he called it “Chops”
  because that was the name of his dog
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
  and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
  and read it to his aunts.
That was the year Father Tracy
  took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
  with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed alot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
  Valentine signed with a row of Xs
  and he had to ask his father what the Xs meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
  he wrote a poem
And he called it “Autumn”
  because that was the name of the season
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
  and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kithcen door
  beause of the new paint
And the kids told him
  that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometime they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
  with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
  when he asked her to go see santa claus
And the kids told him why
  his mother and father kissed alot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
  when he cried for him to do it

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
  he wrote a poem
And he called it “Innocence: A Question”
  because that was the question about his girl
And thats what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
  and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
  because he never showed her
That was the year Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
  of the Apostles’s Creed went
And he caught his sister
  making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
  or even talked
And the girl around the corner
  wore too much make up
That made him cough when he kissed her
  but he kissed her anyway
  becuase it was the thing to do
And at 3 am he tucked himself into bed
  his father snoring soundly

That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag
  he tried another poem
And he called it “Absolutely Nothing”
Because that’s what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
  because this time he didn’t think
  he could reach the kitchen

—  Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Chops”
because that was the name of his dog

And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo

And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X’s

and he had to ask his father what the X’s meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Autumn”

because that was the name of the season
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint

And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed

when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.


Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Innocence: A Question”
because that was the question about his girl
And that’s what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A

and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle’s Creed went

And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her

but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem

And he called it “Absolutely Nothing”
Because that’s what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn’t think

he could reach the kitchen.

—  Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
4

“Invite that girl you like,” he rasps at you when sorting through his fireworks.
You guffaw, face burning, “I don’t like her.”
He took a moment, looking at you with squinting blue eyes behind thick lenses and shook his head, “Oh, I didn’t realize you fawned over people you don’t like. Invite that girl you don’t like.”


i will make you queen of everything you see by @civilorange: chronological order [#9] snapshot 19

Glasses

Notes: Dex has hella siblings, Aubrey is two years older than him and Jenna is three years younger. Also Dex’s family calls him Liam, but I kept his name Will in the narrative. Shout out to everyone who had extremely ugly glasses as a kid.


      He couldn’t breathe. He absolutely can’t see and he can’t breathe. His last pair of prescription contacts, which were supposed to last him two more weeks had ripped. He had scoured the bathroom for an extra pair, even tried to make do with the ripped lens, but the contact immediately fell out of his eye. He clutched his chest and took several deep breaths before pulling the bulky glasses case out from the shoe box hidden in the back corner of his closet. He steadied his hands before pulling the large frames onto to his face.

 “Yo Poindexter!” Will sank into himself, turning the corner and racing down the hall towards the closest classroom. Behind him James Corrs and Chad McGowan were dodging other students in an effort to reach him, and Will felt a rush of panic shoot down his spine as he realizes he had ran directly into Dennis Stevens. He had no idea why, but a large group of the student body, especially a group of certain eighth graders had found it hilarious when Will was forced to get glasses. For a few weeks he had refused to wear them during the school day, but one too many teachers had called home complaining that Will wasn’t getting anything done in class because he spent the entire period squinting at the board. His mother had threatened to take away his season tickets to the hockey rink if he refused to wear the glasses, and for some ridiculous reason he had convinced himself that he couldn’t tell his mother about the threats, so he complied. When he asked his older brother to take him to get contacts he had scoffed, “Twelve year olds can’t get contacts, Liam.” So there he stood, his back against a row of lockers as the crowd taunted him chanting “Four-eyed Poindexter” and Chad pounded Will’s stomach with his fists. They had only stopped when the second period bell rang, but James had turned back at the last second to punch him directly in the nose. When Aubrey was called into the nurse’s office to calm him down, he lied and told her he had slipped and broken his nose. And even though Aubrey stuck by side as often as she could from then on, Will still had to hide black eyes and bruises from his family until his fifteenth birthday. His mother had found it “incredibly strange that you want to spend your birthday at the optometrists, Liam, really we can go tomorrow.” But he had insisted, and it was the best birthday present he had ever gotten.

     He ducks his head, trying to keep his breathing shallow and even as he shuffled into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. But of course everyone is there, stuffed in tight around the dining table and leaning against the counters as Bitty flipped pancakes at the stove. He keeps his head down, but Bitty notices him immediately and chirps, “Morning, Mr. Poindexeter.” But when he actually looks at Dex, he does a double take, “I didn’t know you wore glasses!” And then everyone is staring at him, at the gigantic, thick lensed glasses. His entire body burns, he can feel the blood flooding his cheeks but the room is silent so he gives a forced chuckle, “I wear contacts but my prescription ran out.” But as he turns toward the table everyone is still staring at him in wonder, except Nursey who is wearing a mischievous grin. He knows what is coming, as a spark of humiliation and rage flutters in the pit of his stomach, Nursey huffs out a small laugh. “You pick out those frames yourself? You look like true 1960’s Poindexter, all you’re missing are the suspenders and pocket protector.” It was a weak chirp, and honestly, he’d heard it a thousand times before but hearing it from his friends, especially Nursey, who was gorgeous and flawless with perfect vision, it just stung. Immediately he felt dizzy with embarrassment and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying. Without thinking he ripped the glasses off of his face let them hit the ground before stepping on the lens. The second he heard them crunch, he bolted up the staircase, only faintly hearing the, “Not cool, Nursey.” Followed by an, “I didn’t know, I- had no idea-“

    He found himself on the roof, clutching his knees to his chest as he waited for Jenna to answer her cell, and when he got her voicemail, he explained that he would give her anything she wanted if she drove to the optometrist’s office and convinced them to express mail him his next prescription. He was adding the twentieth please to the end of the message when he heard the window behind him. He didn’t bother to turn around because he probably wouldn’t be able to tell who they were until they got to his side. He was typing a message to Jenna, holding the screen about an inch from his face, when a body settled next to him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Dex.” Nursey tried to rest a hand on his shoulder, the way that makes his stomach flutter, but Dex moves flinches away violently. He hears a desperate whine from Nursey, and when he looks to his side, Nursey has a one hand fisted in his curls, with the other clutching what Dex assumes are the glasses. He sucks in a deep breath before whispering, “They look really cute on you.”

  “Excuse me?!” For someone who preached peace and acceptance, Nursey was being incredibly cruel. Dex could feel his hands start to shake uncontrollably as he reached out to snatch the glasses, but Nursey caught his wrist and pulled him in close.  He could feel Nursey’s breath on his face and see the specs of gold in his eyes.

“I only said what I said because I was trying to cover up the fact that I am so incredibly turned on by the image of you in glasses.” Dex is ready to punch Nursey for being such douchebag but Nursey is slipping the glasses onto his face (the frames had cracked in several places, but lenses had escaped unscathed) and leaned in to press a hot kiss against his mouth.

    Just as Nursey slipped his tongue into his mouth, he pulled back and searched his face, their foreheads pressed together. Nursey had eyes shut and he’s laughing breathlessly, and he reaches a hand up to cup the back of his neck and the other moves to his waist. “If you’re fucking with me I’m gonna push you off this roof.” Nursey shook his head before ducking in again, kissing him gently before whispering, “What do I have to do to get you to wear these in bed?” And Dex actually shoves his shoulder hard.

Downstairs Lardo comes back in the front door announcing, “They’re all good.” To everyone’s relief.

(20/365)

-Stormpilot apartment neighbors au. Think about it.

-Like Finn’s moving in to a new apartment building and he’s struggling up the stairs with this big ass box

-and suddenly there is the most handsome man he has ever seen at the top of the stairs.

-“Do you need help?” The man is sliding his hands around the box and lifting it with ease before Finn has time to blush.

-Turns out Finn lives directly next door to the man, whose name is Poe. Poe loves country-phase Taylor Swift. A lot. Finn can tell because the walls of their building are paper thin and Poe is sort of deaf.

-That’s because he plays drums for a band called “Resistance.” This girl named Jess is the lead singer and Poe’s the song writer, and eventually it becomes a ritual for him to come over on Friday nights and crash on Finn’s couch and write.

-Finn sits with Poe’s legs stretched out over his, wondering if this is normal Bro behavior.

-Poe actually just spends so much time at Finn’s that everyone, including their landlord Leia Organa (her tenants call her “The General” behind her back), thinks he lives there.

-They bake together. Mostly it’s Finn doing the baking and Poe sitting at the counter and talking, but Finn doesn’t mind. Sometimes he’ll turn around and catch Poe staring…but what would he be staring at?

-One day Poe shows up at Finn’s door with a tiny three-legged mutt dog in his arms, a guilty smile plastered on his face.

-They call the little ball of orange and white fur “BeBe”. He never leaves Poe’s side. The General doesn’t allow pets, but she makes a concession after being duped into holding the puppy.

-“One accident,” she growls, kissing BeBe on the head, “and he’s out.”

-More neighbors appear. A sweet girl named Rey moves in across the hall with her uncle, a grizzled but kind man she calls “Skywalker”. There’s a story behind that name, but he won’t tell it.

-The woman on the basement floor is ancient and wrinkled, her skin orange from tanning one time or a thousand over the decades. She wears giant glasses with thick lenses that magnify her beady but soulful eyes. She’s a blunt old woman and insists everyone gathers in her apartment for tea every Sunday and tell her stories about their week. Finn half suspects she runs a drug trade on the side.

-There’s the moody college senior who’s holed up in his place all day playing Xbox. Finn takes a disliking to him, but Rey absolutely despises him.

-There are more, many more. But the one most important to Finn is the first. Eventually they do decide to live in one apartment. Eventually they decide to sleep in the same bed.

-It’s one of the best decisions Finn’s ever made.

Fireworks

You all have @banshees to thank for this. Max I love you and you always inspire me to keep writing, so I hope this is worth your faith in me.

- - - - - -

“‘till death do us part” never really sat well with Mako. In Junkertown, there was never a way of knowing when that would be. You could live for twenty years without an issue. You could be taken out by a desperate man with a knife tomorrow. To say you’d only love someone until one of you died seemed like a cop out when you could lose each other only a day after making the promise.

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Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
        he wrote a poem
And he called it “Chops”
        because that was the name of his dog
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
        and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
        and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
        took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
        with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
        Valentine signed with a row of X’s
        and he had to asked his father what the X’s meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it


Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
        he wrote a poem
And he called it “Autumn”
        because that was the name of the season
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
        and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
        because of its new paint
And the kids told him
        that Father Tracy smoke cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
        with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
        when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
        his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
        when he cries for him to do it.


Once on a paper torn from his notebook
        he wrote a poem
And he called it “Innocence: A Question”
        because that was the question about his girl
And that’s what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
        and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
        because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
        of the Apostle’s Creed went
And he caught his sister
        making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
        or even talked
And the girl around the corner
        wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
        but he kissed her anyway
        because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
        his father snoring soundly


That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag
        he tried another poem
And he called it “Absolutely Nothing”
Because that’s what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slashed on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
        because this time he didn’t think
        he could reach the kitchen.

—  A Poem from “The Perks of Being A Wallflower” by Stephen Chbosky

“Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines, he wrote a poem, and he called it Chops, because that was the name of his dog, and that’s what it was all about. And his teacher gave him an A and a gold star, and his mother hung it on the kitchen door and read it to his aunts. That was the year Father Tracy took all the kids to the zoo, and he let them sing on the bus, and his little sister was born, with tiny toenails and no hair, and his mother and father kissed a lot, and the girl around the corner sent him a valentine signed with a row of Xs. And he had to ask his father what the Xs meant, and his father always tucked him in bed at night, and was always there to do it.

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines, he wrote a poem, and he called it Autumn. Because that was the name of the season, and that’s what it was all about. And his teacher gave him an A and asked him to write more clearly. And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door because of its new paint. And the kids told him that Father Tracy smoked cigars, and left buttes on the pews, and sometimes they would burn holes. That was the year his sister got glasses with thick lenses and black frames, and the girl around the corner laughed when he asked her to go see Santa Claus, and the kids told him why his mother and father kissed a lot. And his father never tucked him in bed at night. And his father got mad when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook, he wrote a poem, and he called it ‘Innocence?’ with a question, because that was the question about his girl, and that’s what it was all about. And his professor gave him an A and a strange steady look, and his mother never hung it on the kitchen door because he never showed her. That was the year that Father Tracy died, and he forgot how the end of the Apostles Creed went, and he caught his sister making out on the back porch, and his mother and father never kissed or even talked. And the girl around the corner wore too much makeup that made him cough when he kissed her. But he kissed her anyways, because that was the thing to do. And at 3 am, he tucked himself into bed, his father snoring soundly.

That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag, he tried another poem, and he called it 'Absolutely Nothing’, because that’s what it was really all about. And he gave himself an A, and a slash on each damned wrist. And he hung it on the bathroom door because this time, he didn’t think he could reach the kitchen.”

—  The Perks Of Being A Wallflower

December 21st, 1991
A person, A paper, A promise by Dr Earl Reum

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Chops”
because that was the name of his dog
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts

That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X’s
and he had to ask his father what the X’s meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Autumn”
because that was the name of the season
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes

That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.

Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Innocence: A Question”
because that was the question about his girl
And that’s what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her

That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle’s Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly

That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it “Absolutely Nothing”
Because that’s what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn’t think
he could reach the kitchen.

That was the poem I read for Patrick. Nobody knew who wrote it, but Bob said he heard it before, and he heard that it was some kid’s suicide note. I really hope it wasn’t because then I don’t know if I like the ending.

Love always,
Charlie

Mask

The sunlight starting to drift through the blinds was almost enough to make Mako consider buying heavier curtains. He wasn’t ready to get up. The movie they’d picked out the night before was a bit longer than either of them realized and it felt like he’d just laid down. Grumbling quietly, he rolled over to wrap his arm around Hayseed only to meet empty bed. Odd. He sat up with a frown. The scarecrow rarely got out of bed first, especially after movie night. If he didn’t get up now, it would be bothering him the entire time he was trying to fall back asleep.

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