#Anthony vaughn fic

[probably-writing-x]

Fragmented

Summary: could you write one an ant from hbh x reader where the readers bee best friends with spider and dusty for years and is dating ant but she gets roofied and they get protective? only if your comfortable tho im just a sucker for hurt/comfort!!

Warnings: Discussions and descriptions of spiking / drugs (support for these issues is linked at the bottom), swearing, mentions of assault / potential assault, alcohol use, panic attacks and discussions of anxiety

Word Count: 3.6k

“There she is!” Ant grins as soon as you walk through the door, his entire being seeming to light up in your presence.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late,” You smile as you walk into Dusty’s room.

Ant is laying across the bed with Dusty and Spider sat on the edge of the bed playing COD zombies together. Neither of them turn around.

“And hello to you too,” You roll your eyes, closing the bedroom door behind you and walking over to Ant.

“Sorry, hi,” Dusty says quickly, “We’ve just got to-“

His words trail off again as they focus back onto the game.

You look over and Ant stretches his arms out for you, waiting for you to crawl into the space there. He relaxes as soon as you’re in his arms, sinking into the contact as you lay back against his chest, his legs on either side of you. His arms wrap around your waist and his head buries into your neck, kissing the exposed skin there.

“(Y/n) there’s beer in the mini fridge,” Spider mentions, the two of them still directly focused on the screen in front of them.

“They’ve been playing for at least an hour,” Ant mumbles into your ear, kissing you again.

You hum against the contact, “You’re not allowed to play?”

He laughs, “I’m too good for them.”

You’d been friends with all of the boys since kindergarten. Your Dad had enrolled you into a soccer team and you, at the time, were the only girl on the team. At that age, it didn’t seem to matter. All of you stumbled over the ball, scored into tiny fake nets and only played about fifteen minutes before you got bored. You’d then all gone to school together and, really, it felt like you’d been inseparable ever since.

It was two years ago when that had turned into something more between you and Ant. He’d always been the one you were closest to. He was the one, at first, that had always included you in everything. And he was the first one to defend you when someone was rude to you. He made you laugh more than the other two did, as if his humour could be tailored to you. When you were 14, you’d been camping at the lake with the boys. Ant was sharing a tent with you and he’d kissed you. He was nervous and scared and he didn’t know what to do with his hands but it was adorable. He’d got much better at kissing since then. Much better. Spider and Dusty had been weird about it at first - they’d said it would make things awkward and that it would be even worse if things didn’t work out. But then it just… did. You fit together, they realised it as much as you did. And, despite you two being young, nobody really saw this ending any time soon.

“Fucking hell,” Spider grumbles, tossing his controller back onto the mattress.

“Is it over?” You laugh, running your fingertips over Ant’s arms around your torso.

“Yeah Dusty fucked it,” Spider rolls his eyes, “You’ve still got the high score.”

You shrug, “What can I say? I’m just better than all of you.”

“Fuck off we taught you how to play!” Dusty kicks your leg gently.

Ant rests his chin on top of your shoulder, kissing your cheek, “Can’t we just stay here tonight?”

“No, no, no, come on,” You push up from his chest, “We said we’d go.”

“Yeah everybody’s going,” Spider points out, standing up from the bed too, “Plus, we’re already late.”

Ant groans and flops his head back against the pillow below him, “Okay I need to drink.”

———

The party’s happening in a warehouse downtown. You weren’t really sure how you’d ended up here, but Spider had overheard it from someone at school and got you all invited. There was music blaring from speakers and people you didn’t recognise and a million bodies moving around one expansive dance floor.

Ant places a hand on your back, smoothing his fingers over the material of your top. He liked being near to you. He was sure holding you could make him feel better about anything.

“Should we get a drink?” Dusty yells over the music and the boys agree.

All four of you walk over towards one side of the room and fill up cups from the kegs stacked up on one side. Spider makes a comment about how dirty the cups probably were and for a moment you question if it’s even worth having one. But you pour yourself a cup anyway, taking a sip of the lukewarm beer.

“I’m just going to go say hi to the girls,” You lean into Ant, “Are you guys staying here?”

“Yeah yeah we’ll be about,” He nods, bobbing his head to the beat of whatever song was playing.

“Alright, I won’t be long,” You squeeze his hand and walk off towards where you could see Amerie and Harper on the other side of the room.

—

That was the last time Ant had seen you before it happened. He watched you as you walked away, he always did. And he watched as you hugged Amerie and Harper in turn, before he turned back to the boys and made a comment about trying to find each of them a wife. He’d finished what was left of his cup and then poured out another one and knocked back half of that.

Dusty said they should go towards the crowd and Ant had looked back to make sure you were still within his eye line. You were with the girls, laughing about something one of them had said. And so he’d followed behind the boys into the crowd, just enough on the edge that you’d be able to see them when you came back. He didn’t think anything of it really. Everyone that you knew was here, plus another few hundred that you didn’t. It was all people your own age, all underage and worried about getting caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing. It was a harmless party.

He only started to worry when it had been a while since he’d seen you. Ant looked back over to where the girls had been stood but he couldn’t see any of you anymore. He’d glanced over towards the drinks, hoping to see you there, but you were nowhere to be seen. Maybe you’d gone to the toilet. He couldn’t see enough through the crowd to be able to figure it out.

“Guys should we go look for (Y/n)?” He’d turned around to the boys.

Spider looked at him with a frown, “She’s not answered your text?”

“No,” Ant shakes his head, shouting over the music.

“What if she comes back here and can’t find us?” Dusty returns.

They all worried about you, always. Not only did your boyfriend, but the other two treated you like a little sister. They were always going to worry.

Before they have a chance to worry any longer, Harper comes pushing through the crowd for them. She’s flustered and out of breath and her eyes are burning with panic.

“It’s (Y/n).”

Ant felt his stomach drop, his entire body go into overdrive at the thought of what could have happened.

Spider grasps his shoulder and it forces him through the crowd, the boys hurrying after Harper who leads them through.

They end up outside, the breeze hitting them as Amerie crouches beside you at the side of the road.

“What’s happened?” Dusty speaks first as Ant rushes to your side.

Your hair is disheveled and your mascara has run and your whole body is shaking.

“She just got like really drunk out of nowhere,” Amerie explains, “We thought she’d just drank too much but it all happened so fast. Like twenty minutes and she was just gone.”

“She had one drink,” Spider mentions, “I mean, we had a beer at the house. But one drink here.”

“What the fuck was in that drink?” Harper shakes her head, “This is fucked up.”

Ant let you fall into him, his arm propping you up against his side as you mumbled incoherently. He knew you couldn’t see straight, from the way your eyes looked darker and uncertain. You were holding onto his shirt and your entire body felt like it could crumble in front of him.

“We need to call somebody or get help or something,” Dusty encourages, “She could’ve been spiked.”

“Who the fuck would do that?” Amerie exclaims, “What the fuck is wrong with people?”

They all look between each other, the panic bouncing in the air between them all as Ant holds you like you’re seconds away from disappearing.

———

Your entire body feels heavy and trapped when you wake up, like your mind is waking up before your limbs do. Crisp white lights, rhythmic beating, wires and tubes, the distant hum of conversations you couldn’t make any sense of.

You felt sick and hungry and tired and thirsty and yet felt nothing all at the same time. And you were alone.

“Alright alright shhhhhh.”

You’d know that voice anywhere.

“She needs to-“ It cuts off instantly as soon as he sees you, “Wait she’s awake!”

“She?” You croak out, your words hoarse and painful.

“(Y/n),” Ant half-laughs, breathing out a sigh of relief into the sound of your name.

Like the sight of you had made half of his worries float away almost instantly. Your eyes, now semi-adjusted to the light, catch the sight of all three boys making their way back into the room. Dusty’s carrying food bundled into his arms and Spider’s got a balloon and Ant’s carrying the biggest teddy bear he could manage.

“This was the only balloon they had,” Spider grimaces, tying the string to the barrier on one side of the hospital bed.

You catch a glimpse of it, a pink foil heart shaped helium balloon covered in the words ‘it’s a girl’.

“And we got you your favourite snacks, or at least everything that the hospital shop had,” Dusty explains, dumping them down onto the tray table at your bedside.

Ant still hasn’t spoken, like he just needed to see you to make himself feel okay. Like he just needed to know you were here.

“Wh-“ You cough out, pushing yourself up to sit up a bit more in the bed, “What happened?”

“You-“ The boys all look between each other, like a silent conversation, before they all take up spots on either side of the bed.

Spider and Dusty on one side and Ant on the other. Ant takes your hand in his.

“You were-“ Ant takes a deep breath, “We think you were spiked last night, at the party.”

You feel your body freeze like the words have invoked a shock response, trying to rack your tired brain for any sign of memory from the night before. Nothing.

“The girls were with you, Am and Harper,” Spider mentions, “They think it might’ve happened before you went to the toilet.”

“You just got very bad very quickly, and they knew something was wrong. You fell over and cut yourself up a bit and they took you outside and that’s when they came to find us,” Dusty continues, his brows furrowing in their concern.

“You couldn’t really talk, you couldn’t stand, so we called the ambulance and they decided to bring you in,” Spider adds, “We all got questioned last night but we couldn’t really help, we just kept telling them we didn’t know what had happened to you.”

“I don’t-“ Your voice is shaky this time, and you realise how quickly your heart was beating, “I don’t remember any-“

Your bottom lip quivers, your hands starting to tremble.

“I don’t remember anything.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ant speaks so softly, his arm wrapping around you to pull you into his side, “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“The doctor told us that you might not remember a lot of it. It’s one of the side effects, she told us it’s like being the most drunk you’ve been, but just a lot worse,” Spider explains, reaching out a hand to squeeze your knee.

You look around at the three of them, faces all full of worry. They were all sleep deprived, dark circles under their eyes, same clothes as last night, surviving off of the adrenaline and worry they’d had since the moment they’d seen you outside. You knew you were okay, the girls had stayed with you, the boys had found you, the boys were here now. And yet a thousand thoughts circled through your brain of what could have been. Of what happened without you knowing. Of what would have happened had you been alone.

You feel the sickness boil in your stomach, churning over with every fearful thought.

“(Y/n)?” It’s Spider’s voice, “You with us?”

You blink away the blur from your eyes and force a small smile, “Yeah, yeah.”

———

You’re back at school the following week. And everybody is already talking about the weekend. Ant holds your hand as you walk into school, his fingers laced with yours and his shoulder bumping yours with every step he takes. You can see people looking at you, people pointing out the cut on your cheek or weighing up how bad they thought you looked.

“Hey, the guys are already in class,” He mentions, nudging your shoulder as the two of you divert towards class.

You’d been with him all weekend, he’d stayed at yours and done everything for you. He’d made you food, brought you tea, checked on you every ten minutes, let you watch your favourite films. He was determined to make sure you were okay and, on surface level, you were. You weren’t feeling sick anymore, your headache had eased, your muscles didn’t feel as weak, even the injuries from that night had started to heal. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. And for every time you told Ant you were okay, you felt like you were lying to him just a little bit.

“Thank god you’re here!” Dusty exclaims as soon as the two of you walk in, “I need you to back me up on this one.”

“What’s going on?” Ant frowns, setting his and your books down onto the desk beside the boys.

“Okay if you had to live in a movie, the right option is Avengers, right?” Dusty explains, “Like why wouldn’t you want that?”

“It’s Jurassic Park!” Spider defends, “Who gives a shit about superheroes when you could just walk around with dinosaurs?”

“Did you… watch Jurassic Park?” Ant frowns, sitting down on the edge of the table and wrapping his arms around you so that you can perch between his legs.

“Shit goes wrong in Avengers all the time! And if you weren’t a superhero then you’re just one of those boring people in the street that has to run away from the bad guy,” Spider shakes his head, “What do you think (Y/n)? What film would you live in? Marvel or Jurassic Park?”

“Urm,” You clear your throat, “Surf’s Up.”

“Oooooh, and (Y/n) wins,” Dusty smiles, “Well played.”

They carry on their conversation about films and bring up all of the worst options they can think of. Spider gets Dusty into a headlock when he persists that Jurassic Park is one of the worst options. The two of them go tumbling into one of the desks.

“Hey, you okay?” Ant says softly into your ear.

You turn around and offer him a smile, “I’m okay.”

He kisses your cheek and you stand up from the desk, settling into your own seat with Ant beside you. He puts an arm around the back of your chair, swirling patterns on your shoulder like he always did. He was an affectionate boy, with nobody but you.

“Hey, (Y/n).”

You look up to see Amerie and Harper walking over towards you as Spider and Dusty take the seats adjacent to you and Ant.

“We just wanted to check you were okay,” Amerie says, “Im so sorry that happened to you.”

“Oh, um,” You shake your head, “You don’t need to say sorry. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

“We should’ve been watching more,” Harper encourages, “I mean seriously that’s so scary what happened.”

“Yeah I can’t believe how quick it all went,” Amerie adds on, shaking her head, “It’s seriously fucked up.”

“But we’re glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks girls,” You nod, “And thank you for… you know… helping.”

They both offer you that sympathetic smile you’d been seeing a little too often in the past few days. You appreciated the concern from everyone, it was nice. But you weren’t sure you could deal with another person checking up on you. They cared too much, right? You were fine. You were totally and utterly fine.

But there was a tightness in your chest that wouldn’t let up. It remained sat there, heavy and clenching. And the more you thought about that night, the tighter it got.

“Alright everybody settle down!” The teacher calls from the front of the class and everyone seems to settle into their spaces.

Ant keeps an arm over the back of your chair, as close to you as you can get. And you try to take a deep breath to ease the tightness in your chest. It doesn’t seem to go.

———

You’ve got sport next, and the boys are doing basketball on one side whilst the girls are on the other. The sports hall feels warm and stuffy and you’re certain the tightness in your chest has only got worse.

“(Y/N)?” It’s Harper’s voice that cuts through to you, flinching you from your thoughts, “You good?”

“I-“ You clear your throat, blinking, “I’m good.”

Just then, one of the boys yells something from the other side of the hall - you don’t know what, but the volume seems to cut through you. You feel yourself flinch again, your chest seemingly tightening even more. You feel like you’re trying to take a step forward and yet your feet are stuck in their exact spot. Like you’re sinking. Your body feels heavy and weak all at once and you’re completely out of control. Your vision starts to blur and your ears are pounding and all attempts at breathing seem to be escaping you. Like your body is fighting against itself.

“(Y/N)?”

It’s one of the girls again, coming over towards you in the sports hall.

But you’re not there. You’re back at the party and they’re coming over to you again, and you’re just as out of control as you were that night. You can make out the faint silhouettes of the boys - too far from you. And you can’t get to them, your mind and your body and your brain won’t allow you.

And then it all just seems to go dark.

———

When you next wake up, you’re in the uncertain surroundings of the nurse’s office. It smells of cleaning products and linen and the bed is rock solid beneath you.

“(Y/n),” The nurse smiles at you from over the room, “How are you feeling?”

Your throat is dry and your head is pounding, “What happened?”

“Well, you had a panic attack,” She says softly, “You didn’t pass out but it seemed you were very close to, your friends brought you here and you fell asleep not long after.”

You nod, “I don’t really remember much of it.”

“That’s okay, that’s completely normal,” She assures you, “There’s somebody that’s been waiting outside if you’re feeling up for having a visitor.”

You nod and sit on the side of the bed, your legs crossed beneath you. When she opens the door and steps outside, it’s Ant that comes in to keep you company.

“There she is!” He smiles softly, speaking so gently it almost doesn’t sound like him, “I thought you might be cold.”

He hands over his black hoodie to you and you pull it on, breathing in the lingering scent of his aftershave.

“How are you feeling?” Ant asks, taking his spot on the bed beside you, facing you.

“I’m okay, I’ve never had that happen before with a panic attack,” You shake your head, “I just couldn’t move or anything it was so scary.”

“Hey,” He reaches out and takes your hand, “You’ve also never been through anything like what happened to you at the weekend, and you’re allowed to be struggling with that.”

“I just-“ You shake your head, “People keep asking me if I’m okay and I keep saying I am but… I just keep thinking what would have happened if…”

Your bottom lip quivers and Ant wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

“Im never going to let that happen, (Y/n), I promise you,” He mumbles into you, “And I’ll be as patient as you need to help you deal with all of this.”

You pull away from him just enough to look into his eyes, letting them inject into you the warmth that he seemed to ooze.

“We can talk about it, we can find a therapist if you feel like that would help, we can speak to the police again, we can do anything,” He encourages, brushing your hair away from your face and cupping your cheek, “But I need you to know that I’m here, okay?”

You nod and lean into his touch as he smooths his thumb over your skin.

You sniff, “Thats the most serious I’ve ever seen you, Ant.”

He laughs, “Yeah I can be serious when I want to be.”

You smile and he leans in to kiss you as if he wants to seal the smile there. Seal the small fraction of yourself that he could see coming through. And he meant it, he’d do whatever he could to get all of those fractions back.

———————

Helpful Links

Stamp Out Spiking

Alcohol Think Again (AU)

Crisis Text Line

[general-fanfiction]

Eshay Baby. (Anthony Vaughn x Chook's Sister Reader)

Word Count: 5.8K

Y/N Cooper and Anthony Vaughn had a complicated relationship, which becomes even more complex following the reveal of the incest map.

WARNING: This work is not intended for those under the age of eighteen as it does have mature content. This story deals with alcohol, sexual content, drugs, explicit language, violence, death and triggering topics such as sexual assault and abuse.

A/N: I really hope you enjoy this fic as much as I do, I am a sucker for an ex's to lovers trope! This will be an ongoing series with each chapter correlating to a different episode! Love you! x

Fuck you Monday.

I am not a bad person. At least, I don’t believe I am. Research suggests that people become products of their environments, in fact, there’s an entire theory surrounding the self-fulfilling prophecy which suggests that if environmental factors such as the people and community surrounding you believe you will turn out a certain way, you will. It’s something to do with the phrase ‘if that’s what people think I am, then that’s what I will be.’ For as long as I’ve been alive, I have done my best to combat this. Not wanting to prove the countless social workers, mental health professionals, teachers and police correct. I am a good person.

My brother on the other hand, that’s slightly more complicated. He’s four years older than me, he understands and remembers more of our childhood than I do. It’s not something that we often talk about, him opting to avoid the subject entirely not wanting to reminisce on the past. His words not mine. I don’t blame him for this, nothing I can remember is positive. Being passed from one distant relative to the next, each being significantly worse than the last. Until one day we ended up at the home. I can only imagine what other horrors he may remember.

Hence why I stated it’s complicated, everything he does, he does for us. That’s the way it’s always been. Not once has he failed to protect me, agreeing to be my legal guardian the moment he turned eighteen in order to remove me from the clutches of any government mandated home. I’ll forever be grateful to him for that, and so I could never argue that he isn’t a selfless man. Not when it comes to family.

Others may disagree with me, believing he is cruel, callous and cold. Inherently evil is a term that has been used to describe him many times before. I’ll be the first to admit that there are times when I don’t agree with his actions. However, I don’t believe this defines him as a person. People are so complex and have many different layers that somebody cannot be defined by one small thing. So would I say he’s a good person? No, but I also wouldn’t say he’s a bad person. He’s just different.

“Your brother said to tell you he’s setting off in ten minutes so to make sure you’re ready.”

The soft voice at my doorway startles me, too focused on applying my lipgloss to notice the boy standing in the doorway. As I glance up at him through my mirror, I’m hit by the unmistakable stench of marijuana that seems to flood the room. My nose scrunches, slightly disgusted by the thought of my brother and his friends getting high in the living room at eight am on a monday morning. Continuing to apply multiple layers of the shimmery pink gloss, I notice the figure is still standing in my doorway, his back turned to me, stance appearing almost awkward as he scratches the back of his head nervously.

“Cash you can come in.”

He turns to face me, hesitantly stepping through the threshold into my bedroom with a small smile on his face. Closing the old wooden door behind him, only to almost be knocked out by the numerous bags I have hung up on the back of my door.

“That’s a lot of bags.” He comments, resulting in a small laugh from me due to him stating the obvious.

Beginning to gather my textbooks, notebooks and any other supplies I may need for school, I notice Cash standing silently simply observing my bedroom. It’s a stark contrast to the rest of the house. Walls painted a burnt amber with photos and posters plastered up anywhere I could reach. Crocheted blankets are thrown over every piece of furniture in the room and my window stays wide open, allowing the bright morning light to flood the room, the gentle breeze blowing just enough to allow a melodic hum to reverberate through my wind chime.

“Your bedroom is nice. It’s homely.” Cash tells me, waiting patiently as I continue to throw things into my bag.

“Not a chance in hell was I letting Chook decorate my bedroom with graffiti.” I laugh, throwing my chunky black cardigan over my shoulders before the eshay opens the door for me, being the gentleman that he is and allowing me to exit first. “There’s another spray paint to cover a skatepark in here as it is.”

My finger traces one of the many swirls of blue spray paint that lines the hallway as I speak, eliciting a chuckle from the boy that follows behind me. Entering the lounge, I find Jayden and Tilla sprawled out on the sofa, eyes glazed over and it’s clear that they’re both stoned out of their minds. Chook sits on the armchair that he’s claimed as his own, nobody else dares to sit there, knowing it’s his seat. He’s playing with the car keys in his hands, eyes fixed on the unconscious man laid out at his feet. Occasionally nudging him with his foot in an attempt to humor himself.

“Who’s that?” I question, capturing my brother’s attention for the first time since we set foot in the lounge.

“Fuck knows brah, couldn’t handle his drinks though clearly.”

With one last surprisingly gentle kick to the stomach, Chook rises from the chair. Ruffling my hair as he strolls past me and towards the front door, much to my annoyance. I sigh quietly, swiftly smoothing my hair down, to which Cash does his best to muffle his laugh as we follow my brother out the door. Stepping over yet another unconscious man as we leave the house.

Hartley High is only a twenty minute drive, most of which I spend in silence, trying my best to enjoy the drum and bass that erupts out of the speakers as we fly down the streets of Sydney. Chook was never one for following the speed limit, no matter how many times I lectured him on the importance of driving safely.

We pull into the car park outside of school with an ear piercing screech, slamming to a halt directly outside the gates, the unnecessary amount of noise causes many students to look in our direction. Many whispering to their friends as they gawk at us, I do my best to keep my head down as I clamber out of the vehicle. Embarrassed by the commotion Chook has caused.

“Don’t get expelled!” Chook yells out of the car window as Cash and I trudge reluctantly towards the quad. Not wanting to dignify him with a response, I simply throw my middle finger up behind me, hearing his raucous laughter followed by the screech of his tires on the asphalt once again.

“You reckon this year will be any better?” Cash inquires, knuckles white due to how tight he is clenching the strap of his fanny pack that is thrown over his shoulder. He’s nervous. Contrary to what people believe, Cash is a sweet boy. He’s so loving, caring, considerate and kind, he has a lot to offer the world we live in. Nobody seems to see this though. Believing Cash is a good for nothing eshay that will make nothing of himself upon leaving school, most likely following in the footsteps of his mother and ending up in prison. Even he himself believes this.

“I don’t know mate, maybe for you, I mean you technically don’t even need to be here. I don’t have a choice unfortunately.”

“Yeah but that just means you’re stuck with me for another year kiddo.”

“I am literally a year younger than you.” I sulk, giving him a gentle shove in order to express my annoyance. “Besides, you wouldn’t have screwed me if you saw me as a kid.”

Cash stops in his tracks completely, I smirk, pleased that I’ve rendered him completely speechless and offer him a quick wink from over my shoulder as he jogs to catch up to me. We agreed to never speak of it. A one night hook up when we were both heavily under the influence of certain illegal substances. My heart was in pieces following the breakdown of mine and a particular church going brunette’s secret relationship. If you could even call it a relationship, we never exactly labeled anything, nor made anything public. However, it felt as though my heart had shattered, I’d never experienced anything like that before. Not even the pain of my childhood compared to this.

One thing led to another and Cash and I were stumbling into bed together. Both of us knew it was wrong, Chook would kill Cash if he ever found out. Fortunately it only happened once and while I wouldn’t say that I regret it, it did definitely put a strain on our friendship for a while. Mostly due to him being terrified of me telling my brother.

Remembering the memory, I can’t help but smile to myself. Even if it was just for that one night, Cash made me feel whole again. Like I was worthy of finding love. The dopamine from the positive recollection seems to crash like a wave over my body, uplifting my mood drastically despite heading into what is ultimately prison for the next seven hours. That is until I catch a glimpse of the one person I was hoping to avoid completely for the next year.

Anthony Vaughn.

“Oi there’s a fully gacked sex map in the old stairwell.” Shouts from the redheaded girl catch my attention and I’m grateful to be provided a distraction. “It’s called the incest map!”

Students from all directions flock together in a sprint towards the old stairwell. The scene could be described as something out of a nature documentary when a pack of wild animals chase after their prey together. It’s wild and chaotic, completely undignified. So, with a quick glance at one another, Cash and I also follow the crowd, taking off in a run to identify what a ‘sex map’ truly is, and why it is so interesting that the entirety of our school is racing at full speed just to catch a glimpse.

I thank my lucky stars that I’m not claustrophobic when I eventually manage to squeeze my way through the horde of students. Names are scrawled in huge letters across the wall, each with different lines and symbols linking one to another. There’s a key chart to the left hand side and it’s safe to say nobody’s sexual endeavours were safe due to how graphic the key chart was.

The usual suspects are on the map, those who aren’t quiet about their partaking in hookup culture, such as Darren and Dusty. Those in relationships are also unsurprising, for example Missy and Sasha are of course linked, having only just recently broken up. Other names however do manage to shock me, for one I was not expecting to see Quinni’s name on the map, nor was I expecting Cash. Following the three lines connected to his name, it’s only then that I realize in bright red letters accompanied by a pair of devil horns, is my name.

Y/N - hooked up - Cash. Y/N - blowie - Spider. Y/N - fucked - Ant. Y/N - destined - Ant.

With each passing second it feels like my heart has stopped, secrets revealed to the world that were supposed to never see the light of day. How did anybody know about this? Sure, Spider may have blabbed about me giving him a blowjob, most likely bragging to his two best mates about it as though I’m his latest conquest. However, what happened between Cash and I, as well as Ant and I was meant to be kept quiet.

With trembling hands, I begin to anxiously scan the room, looking for any sign that somebody other than myself may have noticed my name. Catching the eye of the brunette, who stands timidly between Dusty and Spider, I discern that he is just as concerned as I am. Fearful of the consequences of this coming out.

“Yo Ant, you fucked the eshay’s sister? Nice one bro.” Dusty shouts, clapping his friend on the back which only leads to the red blush on his face to creep to an even deeper crimson.

“You got further with her than I ever did.” Spider comments, a mischievous smirk spread across his lips. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Ant simply lowers his head, eyes focusing on his shoes which appear to be a lot more interesting than the map in front of him. I can’t lie and say it doesn’t hurt that he won’t speak about us, but at the same time, I understand. With mates like his, I would want to keep things hidden from them too, especially if this is how they react. Not to mention his overly religious family upbringing and the overwhelming amount of shame he is afraid of bringing on his family.

“Hey, you okay?” Cash whispers, hand faintly grazing mine in a subtle attempt to offer his support.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Offering the mullet wearing boy a forced smile, trying to cover up the embarrassment of suddenly being the center of attention.

Continuing to stare at the map in disbelief, only the shouts of rowdy teenagers can be heard as they find more and more connections on the map that they hadn’t seen upon their first inspection. A few even run out in tears, the map ruining many people’s relationships, outing people and just causing pure humiliation for everybody that has their name scribbled across the wall.

“Hey, do you reckon if we ask real nice, Y/N will let us double dick her?” Spider asks Ant obnoxiously loud, nudging him as they both look over in my direction. Humorless expression evident on my face. “What, we’ve both already been there.”

Spider’s comment is directed to me, with him and Dusty both finding the utmost amusement in the entire situation. Ant, on the other hand, looks as though he wants the floor to swallow him whole, unable to make eye contact with me.

“Are you sure you’d be able to get it up? You and I both know how difficult it was for you last time and that was just for a blowie.” Without giving Spider a chance to respond, I’m pushing through the sea of teenagers, who are now staring eagle eyed between the blonde boy and myself. Invested in the very minor argument between us, a chorus of laughter can be heard at Spider’s expense. Even Dusty seems to take amusement in the mortification of his friend. As I brush past the trio, it’s hard to ignore the self-consciousness on their leader’s face. I can’t help but feel a small sense of pride, knowing that my comment really got under his skin. Eyes trailing over each of the guys, I notice that Ant is already looking at me, a regretful look on his face.

Unlike his two mates, Ant has always been the more caring of the three. Whilst still partaking, somewhat reluctantly, in the shenanigans that the other boys rope him into, he has always had more of a guilty consciousness. Often disclosing the amount of regret and guilt he felt due to some of their actions. Though, he made me swear that information to secrecy, not wanting the boys to view him as weaker. It’s one thing we regularly argued about, with him being unable to fathom the idea that having morals and a consciousness doesn’t make you any less of a man.

The deafening shrill of the school bell sounds whilst I stomp across the quad, alerting me of the fact that I should be headed towards the gym for the mandatory back to school assembly. Yet, I can’t bring myself to face it. Wanting to avoid Spider for a little while longer while I can in the hopes of steering clear of another confrontation. Half an hour into the new school year and I’m already wagging, what a great start.

Without turning to look back, I can hear the shuffle of feet as everybody begins to pile out of the old stairwell. Heading into the main school building, still, I tread on. Doing my best to sneak behind the science block and finding solace in the old dunnies that were closed off to students back in the nineties. Technically, nobody is supposed to be back here, I’m risking detention just by being here, though Cash and I continue to use it as a safe space to hide from the world whenever we need peace.

Rummaging through my bag, I’m quick to find the box of Marlboro Gold’s that I always keep stashed at the bottom, just on the odd occasion that I do feel the urge to smoke. It used to be a rare occurrence, these days, unfortunately it seems to be more of a recurring problem. I’ve hidden the habit from just about everyone in my life, not that Chook would care, he’s done far worse that I ever have. I just don't want people to perceive me as any less that they do now, I know smoking is a dirty horrible habit and yet I can’t seem to quit. So, as I spark my lighter, inhaling the toxic fumes, I begin to take comfort in the calm that fills my body from the lungs outward.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t think anyone was gonna be in here.”

My eyes sweep up from the ground, and if the baggy jeans and tie dyed jumper weren’t enough of a give away as to who stood before me the cross chain hanging from his neck certainly did. It’s the first time he’s actually spoken to me directly since the night everything came crumbling down eight weeks ago. When my eyes lock with his, I can’t help but take in his beauty as if it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him and before I can react the cigarette is falling out of my fingers.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

He points to the ciggie that is now beginning to burn out on the concrete floor. With an awkward laugh, I quickly pick it up, stubbing it out on the wall, humiliated that he caught me.

“I don’t really,” Playing with the ends of my hair as I desperately try to think of an excuse that doesn’t truly reveal the extent of my habit.

“Just needed to destress after this morning.”

“Yeah, crazy morning, right?” Ant asks, leaning against the doorframe as he attempts to make small talk with me. “Actually, do you have another one of those?”

With raised eyebrows I nod swiftly, pulling the pack out of my bag and offering them to him along with my lighter. He lights his and I do the same, after all I didn’t exactly get to finish the first one on account of dropping it on the ground.

“You wagging assembly too?”

My voice is quiet, unsure on whether he actually wants me to make conversation with him or he’d prefer to sit in silence. Despite my best attempts to not make it obvious, I watch as he takes a drag from the ciggie, allowing the smoke to delicately fall from his lips. It’s awkward not knowing where I stand with him, sure, what happened was a while ago now and I’d assumed we’d both moved on but that doesn’t make the entire situation any less awkward.

“Couldn’t face it, Spider and Dusty wouldn’t stop hounding me for all the details and I just needed some space.” Ant admits, picking at the skin around his fingers between drags.

“Oh right, I can leave if you want some space, I don’t mind.”

Grabbing my bag and hauling myself off the window ledge, I throw the end of my ciggie to the ground, ready to leave. That is until his hand grabs mine gently, his touch soft as I’m forced to stop and look at him.

“No, stay. You should stay.”

Ant offers me a small smile before letting go of my hand, the touch so fleeting and yet it still manages to make my heart flutter even just the tiniest bit. Sitting beside him on the cold, mucky floor, not minding the dirt if it means that Ant and I are one step closer to mending our friendship. Truthfully, I miss him. I miss him as a friend more so than anything. Our bond was one that you don’t find much in life, one that others struggle to comprehend.

“I owe you an apology.” His words catch me off guard, unaware that he felt the need to apologize to me, let alone, doing so on the first day back at school. Granted it hasn’t been any ordinary first day back. “I was a complete dickhead to you and you didn’t deserve it-”

“Ant you don’t need to explain yourself.”

“Nah, I do. I think I knew I couldn’t be the guy you deserved, and I got scared. It’s no excuse, I know that. Just believe me, I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said to you that night, I was so pissed, honestly, I hardly remember any of it. All I know is I woke up with the worst hangover of my life and you weren’t there.” He stops for a moment, collecting his thoughts with furrowed eyebrows, trying his best to put what he wants to say into words. “You weren’t there and then I saw the messages. Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t ever want to hurt you.”

He’s staring at me intently, eyes trying to find any glimmer of emotion on my face in an attempt to determine what I’m thinking. Opening my mouth to respond, I find myself rendered completely speechless. As I focus on Ant, I can see the worry in his eyes. Uneasy as to what I may have to say.

“Shit, sorry, I’m no good with words, I-”

“Stop talking Ant.” I mumble, putting an end to his rant before he can even properly begin. “Cheers for the apology, it means a lot.”

“Do you hate me?” The question is blurted out before he can stop himself. Shocking even himself judging by the way his widened followed by his head falling to his hands.

“I could never hate you. You should know that.” I tell him, his whole body instantly less tense as the relief floods through him. “I’ve actually really missed my friend. We should’ve never complicated things.”

I almost miss it, but there’s a flash of pain in the browns of his eyes as I say those last words, though he nods in agreement. The silence that follows is no longer awkward, instead it’s tranquil. Plainly embracing the warmth of the early morning sun in one another’s presence feels relaxing compared to the events that unfolded prior. Blissfully enjoying the reblossoming of our once torn apart friendship.

“If it isn’t Anthony Vaughn and Y/N Y/LN. You’ve not even been back a day and you’re already wagging.” Ms Woods’ tone is extremely unimpressed as she addresses us, evidently not happy that we’re getting into trouble this quickly. Ant and I can’t help but hold in matching mischievous grins. “My office now!”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So what were you and Ant doing in the dunnies together?” Cash mumbles the minute my brother is out of earshot and inside Harry’s diner, no doubt trying to chat up all the girls who are trying to eat their chippies in peace.

Slapping him straight in the chest, my eyes flicker towards the door of the diner, wary that Chook will pop out at any second and overhear our conversation. He feigns annoyance, dramatically throwing his hand up to his chest, acting as if I’ve just shot him.

“Oh my god, nothing!”

“I saw your names on the map Y/N, can you blame me for thinking you were trying to cop a root?”

“Shut the fuck up! Nothing happened okay?” I whisper as aggressively as I can, playing with the hem of my pinstripe mini dress in the hopes that I can distract myself from this conversation.

“I dunno, Amerie seemed to think you two were destined.”

“Who’s destined?”

Chook’s voice alarms me, head snapping up to spot the slightly older, male version of myself walking only mere feet away from Cash and I. His casual demeanor suggests he hasn’t overheard the rest of our conversation for which I’m thankful. Locking eyes with Cash, I shake my head in the subtlest way possible so he knows not to say a word. If Chook found out about the map, not only would I be dead, but Cash as well, so it’s in the best interest of both of us not to open our mouths about yesterday’s events.

“Spider and his imaginary girlfriend. That boy is gonna be in a serious relationship with his hand for the foreseeable future.” The lie slips off my tongue so easily that it’s rather concerning. Chook doesn’t question me, though why would he? I learned from the best.

“Sure. You prepared for the cemetery tonight kid?” Chook asks Cash, not even bothering to look up at him as he stashes the boot of the car with countless amounts of junk food he had just collected from Harry’s. “Thank god you stayed at school for another year, since this little bitch didn’t wanna take over as our connect.”

“My bad that I didn’t wanna be running around, pushing drugs for you for the rest of my school life.” I argue, Chook pulling faces as I speak in response. Deciding that this is an argument not worth having today, after all, it’s one we’ve had many times before.

“Yeah, all good brah.” Cash chimes in, answering Chook’s question to put an end to our petty argument before we can take it even further. Before we can get physically violent, even if it is only in a playful manner.

“You two best get going hey, maximize profit and all that.”

Cash doesn’t need any further instruction, hopping on his motorbike after passing me his fanny pack to store in the bag on the back. Something he always does in order to ensure that all his supply is kept perfectly safe while he drives. I’d consider it smart if I didn’t know it was drugs he was keeping safe. Chook jumps in his car, nodding in our direction as he flies out of the car park with Jayden and Tilla shouting out of the window at us. I can’t help but smile at their antics.

Cash offers me a hand on to the back of his bike, hiking my tiny dress up even further so that I can throw my leg over the vehicle. Wrapping my arms around his waist tightly, he watches in his mirror for me to nod before taking off. A habit he picked up when he first began to drive me around on what I like to call his ‘death trap’.

Dance music is belting from the many speakers when we arrive at the cemetery, a fire pit glowing in the middle of the makeshift dance floor as people crowd around it. The sun is already setting as we arrive, illuminating the party in a way that looks angelic. Upon reaching one of the many piles of drinks, it’s hard to notice Amerie dancing crazily, along with Darren, Quinni and Malachai. I point it out to Cash, the pair of us surprised that she has any friends left considering her actions.

Parting ways with the eshay I find taking a swig from one of the numerous vodka bottles before grabbing a bottle of bus, watching as Cash immediately begins to get to work, Sasha instantly running over to him the moment she spots him alone. Rolling my eyes, I plant myself further away from the party, sat with my back against one of the decrepit headstones.

I’ve always been more of an introvert. Opting to be a wallflower and observe rather than be the center of attention, unlike my fellow classmates who all seem to thrive when the spotlight is on them. I hate Amerie for forcing me into that spotlight.

Between sips of the slightly warm lager, I begin to roll myself a joint, figuring I may as well attempt to have a good time at the party. Even if it isn’t my ideal Tuesday night. I couldn’t let Cash come on his own though, not when he’s working for my brother.

“You are a bad girl Y/N Y/L/N.” Ant’s voice shouts from a short distance away, strolling towards me with a cheeky grin slapped across his face. “What is this? The second time I’ve caught you smoking now?”

“Right well I was just about to offer to share this with you but I guess not now.” I joke, lighting it up as Ant flops down beside me. “And technically, I haven’t even smoked this yet so you’ve only caught me once.”

“It totally counts!” Ant argues, waiting patiently as I take a couple of puffs before handing him the joint. “How’d your brother take it when he found out about the map?”

“You’re safe if that’s what you’re asking. I haven’t told him and he’s not the type of bloke that answers the phone when Woodsy rings.” He hands the joint back to me, fingers brushing mine tenderly. “Your mum?

“Not great. Amerie really fucked things up for me, I have to go to church three more times a week now, all because of one wristy and well you know.”

“Did you tell her the truth about us?” I inquire, wondering if he did come clean completely about our situationship of sorts.

“Nah, I told her it was just the once.” He admits, glancing at me sheepishly, almost embarrassed to recount the memory. “Figured that was better than telling her the truth. I may have also turned her that you were my girlfriend at the time, you know, to kind of make it better. Not that she approves of premarital sex or anything and I know we didn’t label what we were but it sounded better in the moment. I hope that’s okay.”

“Lying to your mother Anthony, that’s not very christian of you!” I gasp, to which he snatches the joint back out of my hand in retaliation, laughing along with me.

“Fuck yourself.” Ant chuckles, blowing the smoke directly in my face without any warning, causing me to descend into a fit of coughs.

“What’s the deal with you and Cash anyway? You two a thing now?” Ant’s not looking up at me when he speaks, all his attention fixated on the crowd of teenagers partying in the distance. Anxiously pulling blades of grass from the ground beneath me, I continue to gaze at him, a sigh falling from my lips as I had hoped he hadn’t noticed the line between Cash and my name. It was inevitable that it was going to come up, I had just hoped it would be something that people skirted around, not asking any direct questions.

“Nah.” The word is faint, shaking my head, my eyes fall on the boy in question, completely unaware that we are speaking about him as he stands in conversation with Darren. “We’re just mates.”

The boy nods besides me though I can tell he doesn’t truly believe me, still unable to look in my direction. Nudging him slightly, I give a small smile when he does hesitantly face me. “We hooked up once a few weeks ago, I was pretty much black out and he was just there. It was a fucking stupid decision.”

“Just mates though?” Ant asks, more of a rhetorical question, as if to reassure himself, much to my confusion as I can’t see why it would matter to him whether we were just mates or not. “Okay but who was better?”

Bloodshot eyes and a lazy smile indicate to me that the joint has hit him quicker than either of us expected. Warm blush present on his cheeks, his head tipped back against the headstone , gazing up at the stars that begin to light up the late summer skies.

“You’re so stoned.” I comment, completely dodging the question in the hopes that he’s too high to remember what he had even asked.

“Just like old times, yeah.”

Ant’s fingers brush over my hand just barely, the touch so slight that I wouldn’t have felt it had I not been looking in that direction. Thumb softly tracing circles across the back of my palm, skin feeling as though its been set alight with every small movement. Turning my head, I find Ant already staring at me, mouth curved upwards into a slight smile.

“I wish I never cooked it with you.”

Despite knowing that he is as high as a kite, his words still manage to catch me off guard. Forcing me to pull away, leaning back to take him in properly. From his somber expression to the deep intensity with which he looks at me, awaiting a reaction.

“Cops!” Before I can respond, shouts from the party grab my attention. Head spinning round to see the chaos unfolding, teenagers running in every direction, some scream, whilst others laugh. “Cops! The cops are coming!”

“Oh shit.”

Discarding the bottle I had been nursing, I hop to my feet within seconds, Ant, who now looks surprisingly sober, does the same. Without hesitation, he is grabbing my hand before we take off in a sprint, running in the opposite direction of the flashing lights and sirens that are rolling up to the gatho. As the crowds disperse, I find myself scanning through the seas of people, looking for a certain eshay that would get into a lot of trouble, should he be caught. “Where’s Cash?” Voice breathy, I force Ant and I to a halt, searching my entire field of vision for any sign of him, head spinning so fast that I’m shocked I didn’t give myself vertigo. “Ant, I can’t see him. Where’s Cash?”

“Y/N we need to go.”

With his free hand, Ant easily slides it around my waist, using all his strength to pry my feet from the pavement. Regardless of my unwillingness, I allow the boy to lead us away from the party. Not wanting to run the risk of getting caught, so instead I recite prayers in my head that Cash also hasn’t been caught.

Upon reaching the locked gate, Ant wastes no time in easily pushing me up so that I can scramble over the metal. He does so with ease, a proud display of his strength and it makes me blush. Reminiscing on the ways he used that strength before.

Running hand in hand down the noiseless streets of Sydney, I find myself giggling at tonight’s events. The prospect of an exciting, if slightly chaotic year eleven rises upon the horizon and I can’t help but display my enthusiasm at seeing where the next few months take me. (Hopefully, with Ant by my side, but nobody needs to know that.)

[starlightdelrey]

heartbreak high navigation

PSA no minors allowed please!!!! there will be sensitive content and nsfw content explored in these fics!! i do not want to have to block anybody!

i write from a fem/nb pov only (sorry) and will not write for some characters (like chook), and i'm willing to write smut and sensitive topics - to a degree xx

to request, either comment, dm or leave an ask (also comment, dm or leave an ask to be added to the tag list) !!

romantic partners i'll write for include: spider, ant, malakai, missy, amarie, harper, (to be updated)

---

character x character

oneshots:

axe throwing - ant and harper (in which two of the hartley kids finally get a moment of peace together (or ant thinks he's gonna lose his arm))

more to come !

[myhaikyuuacademia]

Totally Fake | Ant Vaughn x reader (Heartbreak High) ||

This is officially a series haha, trying to make it slowburn-ish but let's see if i can hold myself back

Fake dating, fem!reader

@foxxyhun

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Thankfully you had managed to get Ant’s number by Friday, not so thankfully you spent all day chatting with him about stupid, irrelevant stuff and Not about what your gameplan was going to be. And if, IF, you were actually going to the party later this evening, he’d probably be too wasted to talk about it anyway.  Which means SLUTS was the last chance you had with him still sober and not hungover. Except you had no idea how to go about it, especially without drawing the attention of your friends who had been watching you like hawks all week. You were the first one in the classroom, anxiously ripping your notebook paper into tiny shreds while thinking about all the logistics. You didn’t get very far when you sensed someone sitting down next to you. “What did the poor paper do to deserve that?” Ant asked amusedly. “Wrong place, wrong time.” You grimaced and shrugged, immediately stopping and throwing all the paper shreds into your pencil case. “Oh no, don’t stop because of me, I’m sure it deserved it.” He joked before settling in his seat. “You don’t wanna sit next to your friends?” You asked, with a nod to the table they usually sat at. “Nah, I’d rather sit with my girlfriend.” He said casually. You didn’t feel very casual as you choked on your spit. God how embarrassing. It took you a minute to calm down, Ant worriedly asking if you were okay, and offering you some of his water, which you declined with a hand gesture as you were starting to calm down.  “Sorry, sorry, I’m fine.” You coughed out. “Actually, that’s what I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” He looked at you, almost disappointed, “You’re backing out?” He assumed. “What? No!” You hurried to say. “I wanted to talk about lining up our stories and everything, ground rules and stuff, you know?” Relief flooded his face, “Ah, okay gotcha!” He seemed much happier. The class was slowly filling up and you were dreading the moment your friends would enter. “Well I already told pretty much everyone that you’re my girlfriend.” He added, catching you completely offguard as you watched the doorway waiting for the inevitable arrival of your friends. “Oh.” Surprised you turned your head to look at him. “Okay.” You added after a second. “What about your mom?”

“Nah, not her yet. But like, Spider and Dusty.” He clarified. Your face felt warm. “Did you tell them it was fake too?” You leaned in closer to whisper it, now that the class was almost full. “No.” He grinned at you conspiringly. You grinned back at him, his answer, and the way he looked at you, making your whole body tingle. “Oh. My. God.” Darrens dramatic voice came from opposite the table. “You two totally ARE together.” Amerie beside them looked satisfied with herself, while Quinni stimmed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping her hands. They sat down at your table while Ant put an arm around your shoulder, “Yeah, so what?” He asked. Your face was burning, as was the parts where his arm touched you. Darrens mouth wide agape, while Quinni looked just as excited as before. “Oh my god, y/n, that’s so cute!! Congrats!” She said, happily, but after a second she looked a little less happy and a little more confused. Disappointed, even. “But why didn’t you tell us?” She asked. “Thrill of a secret relationship I bet.” Amerie added, feeling much cooler than she actually was. “But really, him?” Darren pointed at Ant. Wow rude. Your brows furrowed and you leaned into the boy next to you a little more without noticing. “What do you mean? You don’t think he's cute?” Trying to paddle back Darren stuttered out something a long the lines of, “No, that’s not what I mean, I just, I didn’t think he was your type is all.” “well, to be fair, we never knew what her type was.” Quinni added. “She never told us who she was crushing on, or what she liked in a guy, or girl.” You nodded, she was telling the truth, you usually kept things like that to yourself. “Well, I for one, am happy for you two, though I totally didn’t get any vibes when I was asking for a slap band earlier this week.” Amerie said, crossing her arms. She sounded accusing, like she was about to interrogate the two of you, when thankfully Miss Obah asked everyone to pay attention and started class. Ant didn’t take his arm off your shoulder the whole time.

When he finally did, after class ended, you couldn’t suppress your pout. Logically, you understood it was so both of you could pack your things, but this whole thing didn’t feel very logical, no matter how hard you tried. So instead, once both of you had finished, you grabbed his hand and threaded your fingers with his. Still slightly pouting. He looked down at you and laughed, “What now?” “I think she’s upset you took your arm off of her.” Darren, eagle-eyed gossip lover they are, supplied. “Oh, really?” Ant seemed surprised and looked at you for confirmation. “Yeah, kinda.” You mumbled embarrassed, avoiding his gaze. He chuckled before leaning in close and whispering in your ear. “I’ll touch you all you want at the party later.” Your face was beet red. “Ant!” You whisper shouted, scandalized and wide-eyed. He just tugged you along with him, towards the school exit. “They’re so cute together.” You overheard Quinni say to Amerie and Darren behind you. “Something’s fishy.” Both of them replied in unison. You ignored it, keeping going with Ant. “What now?” You asked once outside the school gate, still holding his hand. Refusing to be the one to let go, actually. “Well, I have some time before the party starts, which, you totally are going to right?” He asked in such a way that you felt a no would break his heart, so you just nodded. How come you are immune to peer-pressure when it was your friends but not when it was the guy you’ve been fake-dating for less than a week. “Great! Well, wanna hang out until then?” You smiled. “Sure!! Oh, we can talk about the logistics of it all, like when did we even start dating and what church do I go to? Or is that even something that’s important to your mother?” You dragged him along, totally rambling at this point about all the different things you had to decide on for the story to be foolproof. When you turned to look at him, waiting for him to say something, you noticed the way he was smiling at you. “Oh, what? Am I overthinking?” You questioned out loud. “No, no, it’s fine. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much.” He still looked at you in a way you had trouble deciphering. “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t talk a lot. Usually. But also we haven’t really spoken before this week so…” You trailed off. “Hmmh, yeah, but we’ve been in the same year for a while now.” He said, before turning back to look at the way ahead. “You usually only talk when spoken to.” Oh. He had noticed that? He had noticed you? Before you ever talked to him? “Oh, um. I guess that’s right.” You squeezed his hand subconsciously. “I like hearing you talk.” He squeezed your hand back. “Plus, you’re so smart, I wouldn’t have thought about half of the things you mentioned. Maybe we should write it all down.” You nodded. “Yeah, good idea.”

“Woah, your room is awesome.”  Ant was currently walking through your room looking at all the little trinkets that were… everywhere frankly. Picking them up and putting them down again. “Haha, thanks.” You sat on the edge of your bed, not knowing what to do with yourself as you watched him. “Woah, you like Marvel?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Uh yeah, I love it.” You laughed. He put the action figure down and turned around, very serious all of a sudden. “This calls for a movie night.” He explained. You grinned. “Sure, I’m always up for a movie.. But let’s talk business first.” You scooched to the side and patted the spot next to you. He groaned dramatically and walked over before sitting down. “Why does this feel like homework all of a sudden.” Your face scrunched up at that. “Sorry. But this is just so our story doesn’t fall apart.” He turned to look at you, head hanging to the side. “You really think it’s necessary?” “Well. Yeah.” You reply. “What if your mom asks us how we met, our what our first date was, and we say different things. Better to be prepared.” He pouts playfully, “Well, fine I guess.” In the end you agree on simple things, you met at school, duh, and worked a project together, after which you became friends, before Ant asked you on a date to the diner, and then a second date to the movies, before asking you to be his girlfriend. Easy enough. He said it was okay not to go to church as long as you were still acting Christian enough in front of his mom. Whatever that means. The reason he was only introducing you now was because you could disprove what was written on the map. You were scared of meeting his parents, so it had taken you a while to gather the courage, and he wanted to be sure before bringing a girlfriend home. Easy. Plausible. Good story. Boring, but believable. In the end you wrote it all down, twice, one copy for you and one for him, just in case you needed it. “Can we finally watch a movie?” He whined as you gave him his paper. “I don’t know, the party is soon, and I don’t know about you, but I definitely have to get ready. You think we can manage to squeeze a movie in?” He nodded, completely convinced. “How long can it take to get ready.” Not believing this was an issue. “Oh buddy…If only you knew.” You patted his shoulder before getting your remote and turning on the tv. It was difficult, at first, to concentrate on the movie, when he was so close and warm, shoulder against shoulder, and legs touching. Your body felt on fire. After a while he wrapped his arm around you too, pulling you ever so slightly closer, if that was even possible.

“Oh! I love this part.” He pointed towards the screen with the hand not resting on your hip. “What? No way, that’s my favorite part.” You looked up at him excitedly. “No way!” He turned to look at you too. You nodded emphatically. “You’re so cool.” He gave you a squeeze. He turned back towards the screen, and you did too, after staring at him for a little while longer. In the end, he ended up staying, watching you get ready, since there was no time for him to go home before Dusty’s band performed. “Whoa, wait, what is that?” You were about to put on your fake lashes, putting glue on the strip when Ant’s head popped up next to you, dangerously close to poking your lash with his finger. “My fake lashes.” You explained. “Your lashes are fake?” He turned to you, staring intensely into your eyes, inspecting your lashes. “No, well yes, sometimes. I have real lashes. The one you’re looking at right now.” You laughed. “But sometimes I put on fake lashes, which looks kinda-“ You  leaned towards the mirror to put your lashes on. “like this.” You said, leaning back to show him. “Oh my god that’s crazy.” He breathed out, totally stunned, which made you laugh even harder. After that he stayed next to you, watching you apply your makeup closely. “Hmmm..” You pursed your lips as you put the last thing in place. “I think that’s it.” You concluded.  Before you could even turn to the side to face him, his voice piped up as he asked: “Can you put some on me?” The request came unexpectedly, but you happily obliged. You opted for some chrome glimmery dark blue green ish, you didn’t really know how to describe it, glitter shadow to put on top of his eyelids. Dabbing it in softly, he leaned in closely and you could feel his breath on your skin. “Okay, try opening your eyes.” You requested softly, holding his chin in your hand and looking at him intensely, assessing your work. He opened his eyes hesitantly. Chewing on your lip you came to the conclusion that this look needed some black liner, so you added a line underneath his eyes on his waterline, dragging it out into a straight “wing”. A difficult job, with this being a sensitive area and Ant not used to having stuff put this close to his eyes. He kept squirming and blinking, but eventually you got the job done to your satisfaction. “This looks sick.” You say as you remove your hands from his face and lean back. Giving him time to admire himself in your mirror, you put away your brushes and powders and liners. “You want to do something to your hair too?” He turned to look at you at that. “Kinda.” You look on your phone to check the time, before grimacing. “Sorry, I don’t think we have time. Actually we really need to go if we wanna make it in time.” You stand up and hold your hand out to him, pulling him up from where he was sitting. Your friends were definitely going to give you shit about barely reaching out to them later.

[charliesangel67]

This will be a fic about (character) walking in on reader having a shower and they fuck (basically)

Lmk if you want this to be a x black!fem reader, x plus size!reader or whatever you feel comfortable with. If there are no responses, I will write it in my perspective of slim white fem reader as it is what I am used to writing. But please, if you do want to request a fic that makes you feel comfortable reading, just DM me or send a request in the requests box.

[lansangprincess]

in the mood to write a harthony fic where ant's started to repress his feelings for the sake of their friendship and harper started to realize her feelings for him

and it's set in ant's house where harper helps him babysit his little sisters 🥹🥹🥹

[1nhal3r]

DROP A PIN ⋆ PROLOGUE

“i fell in love with avoiding problems, and that was the problem.” — come on mess me up by cub sport

WORD COUNT: 7020

OSKAR'S LEAST FAVOURITE TIME OF DAY is the few minutes between the end of evening and the beginning of night. The sun shines its final specks of light in the sky and goes down in the west, leaving beautiful colours as it descends. He's watched the sky dim many times (especially this summer, he's spent most of his break rotting in bed because his parents decided it was the perfect time to ground him) and he's felt himself go down with it.

The life gets sucked out of him, in those moments that the sun disappears, and leaves him with a darkness he can't bear. Something about seeing all-black everything while stuck in his huge empty house with nothing to do makes it difficult for him to pretend to not hate himself. He thinks that the light outside helps him find distractions to ease the unsavoury thoughts that have plagued him for so long, but once the sun goes to sleep, so does his brain's will to ignore what he really thinks about himself.

Today—or night—was worse than usual. Earlier in the afternoon, his parents left for another out-of-country business trip, leaving him by his lonesome. Oskar would usually thank his lucky stars that his parents wouldn't be home for a while, even if staying by himself in such a big space made discomfort churn in his stomach. However, after he spent the afternoon listening to them pack and pace around the house behind his closed door, his mother called him out of his room and they started chewing him out. He couldn't say he didn't somewhat deserve it, but he was left with their harsh words and glares as the last memory he would have of them until they decided to come back.

(Part of him wonders if those trips dragged out so much because they were avoiding coming home to see him.)

Soon after, the front door slammed shut, indicating their departure, and Oskar felt himself start to sink down into this all too familiar self-loathing. It hit him hard—his body numbed with it in the span of a few minutes—so Oskar attempted to push the feeling out by wasting the rest of that shitty evening on his phone, moving to his laptop when mindlessly scrolling through socials didn't work. The pit, as he likes to call it—that feeling like there was a hole in the middle of his chest—still carved itself a place inside his heart, hollowing him out, each breath sending the feeling deeper.

Oskar continued fight it.

When the sun made its descent, it was so much harder to ignore the emptiness in his chest and focus on either of his screens, but Oskar is nothing if not stubborn.

He gave up eventually, when it was around 1 AM, and decided to outsource.

Oskar likes to pretend he's a professional at compartmentalizing. Well, his version of it, anyway. He files away—read: intentionally disregards—unpleasant moments and emotions to be forgotten into the void that is his mind, until his brain decides it would be fun to make him remember. So, instead of spending more time enduring the internal suffering brought on by his parents' opinion of him, he was getting ready to see Jackson.

Well, getting ready is pushing it—those words make it seem like he’s putting effort into himself and pulling himself together. In reality, he just puts on gray sweatpants he finds sprawled out on his bedroom floor (after they pass a sniff test, he's not a total dog) and a black tee with some worn-out graphic design plastered onto it. It's too hot of a summer in Sydney to wear anything heavier and he swears he forgot how to dress appropriately, having spent most of summer break indoors.

Oskar stands in front of his mirror, looking himself over. His dirty blonde hair is a mess from spending the whole day tossing and turning in his bed. He shakes his head—sort of violently, like a dog drying its coat—and then threads his fingers through it, using them as a substitute for a comb. His arm starts cramping up after a good few seconds, so he leaves it alone, grabs his phone and his tangled up earbuds from the edge of his bed and heads towards the front door. He slips on his Converse like slippers, pressing his heels on the back of the shoes, and leaves his house at the ripe time of 1:05 in the morning.

Jackson doesn't live too far away from Oskar—they live around the same neighbourhood, so he decides to walk there even if his limbs feel a little heavy. He has a few friends that live by him that could drop him off if he really wanted, but he would rather stay home and rot than ask any of them for a ride to a booty call. That sort of humiliation isn't something he's gonna subject himself to, especially since his reason for wanting some action was pretty pathetic.

He ambles past the few people out at this time; some late workers and drunk teens stumbling home after their attempt to drag out their holidays before the first day of term. Jackson's house comes into view after a couple minutes out on the road; the familiarity of this side of the neighbourhood makes Oskar spot it immediately, even in the dark.

He walks onto the gravelly path leading up to the wooden stairs attached to Jackson's porch, the pathway decorated with some rocks and flowers in pretty pots as he reaches the front door. He shifts side to side, feeling the wooden boards of the porch creak beneath his feet, and shoots Jackson a text message.

He waits, fumbling around with his phone, and then sees that his text was read. A couple moments later, the latch of the door slides slowly—the sound slightly muted by Jackson's attempt at quietness—and the door's lock gets undone soon after. The hinges creak as Jackson pulls it open. Oskar takes a deep breath and pockets his phone.

He lifts his head to make eye contact with Jackson, and notices how the boy's black hair is messy, probably indicating that he just got out of bed. His suspicion gets confirmed as he drops his eyes to Jackson's plain white shirt and boxers. A pang of guilt hits him, adding itself into the confusing mix of emotions that make up the pit in his chest, slowing making its way to his gut. He finds himself wishing he still had his weed, so he could be at home getting high, instead of looking all pathetic on Jackson's doorstep. Unfortunately, his choices were limited, since his parents found his poorly-hidden ziplock bag full of marijuana right before summer started.

“Os, hey, mate,” Jackson greets with a tired smile, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. Oskar forces a smile back, sighing through his nose in hopes that some of the tension he feels goes as he exhales. “Didn't expect you to come over today.” The other boy moves out of the doorway to let Oskar in.

He enters and toes his shoes off, leaving them next to several other pairs as the door shuts with a quiet thud behind him. “I wanted to see you,” Oskar replies, turning around to face Jackson. Which—

Not a total lie.

Jackson chuckles, bringing up a hand to Oskar's face and pushing his hair out of his eyes. Oskar regrets not brushing it properly as Jackson starts to thread his fingers in his hair. “You always wanna see me,” he says, all smug, running his nails against the blonde's scalp.

Oskar shrugs, a tiny bit ashamed, taking Jackson's hand out of his hair and holding the tips of his fingers. “Show me to your room?” he asks, looking up at Jackson through his eyelashes.

Jackson licks his lips as he stares down at Oskar. Oskar can see the want in his eyes, and it fills him up with the tiniest bit of desire that overrides everything else.

It's a start.

Jackson leads Oskar up the stairs that face the entrance, carefully stepping on the wooden boards as to not make them sound out. Once the door the Jackson's room is carefully closed with the both of them inside, Oskar quickly scans the room. The other boy's room is typical; he has a king sized bed with a blue comforter over top and a medium sized dresser facing it. His walls are decorated with band posters and athletes, and he has a desk in the farthest corner of the room and a bookshelf with different CDs and vinyls.

The familiarity of everything calms him some, so he saunters over to sit down on the edge of Jackson's bed, putting his hands behind him and leaning on them as he eyes Jackson up. He expects the taller boy to walk over, stand between his legs, lay him down over his comforter, and kiss him until he can’t breathe—just like all the other times Oskar's been over—but instead, he leans back against his dresser, looking down at the blonde with his bottom lip between his teeth.

Oskar scrunches his face up. “What, did you become shy or something?” he asks after a few seconds of nothing.

Jackson smiles, lip still tucked between his teeth, and pushes himself up off of his dresser to stand in front of Oskar. “Nah, just admiring' you,” he replies smoothly, which makes the blonde scoff.

“You suck at flirting,” Oskar says, fond, placing his hands on Jackson's hips under his shirt and pulling him in until he's face to face with his clothed torso. He cranes his head back, his chin reaching just below the other boy's sternum, cheekily running his fingers along the band of his boxers. “And it's actually giving me a limp dick.” Oskar grabs the band and pulls, letting it snap back against Jackson's skin, making him hiss and pull the blonde's hands out.

“You're an arse,” Jackson complains, putting his hands on Oskar's shoulder, about to straddle him. He pauses, and then brings his thigh back down. “Actually, you get on top.”

Oskar whistles teasingly. “Switching things up, are we?”

Jackson rolls his eyes and pinches Oskar's side, right below his nipple. “Shut up,” he chides, backing away to let Oskar get up.

As they switch their positions, Oskar standing and Jackson sitting, the taller boy spreads his legs and pats his thighs, inviting the blonde to sit on them. Oskar's stomach knots and his face heats. He can't deny that the gesture does it for him, but he's not about to let it be known.

He straddles Jackson, making himself comfortable in his lap. He wraps his arms around the other boy's neck, and squirms until Jackson grabs his hips and hoists him closer, making their crotches touch. Oskar was already interested by that point, so the pressure on his dick makes him breathe out a pleased sigh. Even the slightest pleasure starts to cloud over all other emotion; it makes Oskar want more.

“You missed by the way,” he says, playing with the few wisps of hair at the back of the other boy's head.

“Missed what?”

Oskar laughs a little. “My nipple,” he clarifies, “your hand-eye coordination needs work.”

Jackson scoffs, gripping Oskar's hips harder which startles out a closed-mouth whimper from him. “Shut up,” he repeats and then he connects their lips together.

Oskar kisses back immediately, too needy for his liking, but he relaxes into Jackson's touch, weak to it. The previous tension he was carrying around seeps out of him bit by bit each time their lips connect, and Oskar lets out a small noise of relief against Jackson's mouth. Jackson licks his bottom lip and then bites down softly, making Oskar moan and open his mouth enough for the taller boy to slide his tongue in.

All the emotions that make up the pit in Oskar’s chest slowly get overridden by pleasure. He focuses on how good Jackson is being to him and he starts being able to ignore the pit. He wants to forget it completely, wants to feel okay, so he grinds his hips against Jackson's and moans into his mouth.

He doesn't get far.

After three clumsy movements of his hips, they get stilled by Jackson's hands, the hold on them tightening when Oskar tries to fight it, and Jackson pulls his lips away from him, panting. Oskar grips his shirt, threading his fingers into the fabric as he searches the other boy's face. Maybe he was too eager for it, or something, and Jackson was going to tease him, lighting up the shame in his gut again.

“What?” Oskar pants out, sounding insecure. It was always unspoken what they did. Well, it was after the first couple of times. It didn't take them long to become attuned to each other's bodies. Oskar can't honestly remember the last time them fucking around involved a break, so anxiety bubbles in his stomach, right next to the shame.

Jackson gazes up at him thoughtfully, his lips pushed to one side as he gnaws at the inside of his cheek, like he's biting it to hold himself back. Oskar's looking back at him expectantly, but instead of voicing what's on his mind, he cradles the blonde's face with a warm palm and trails kisses over his jaw, steadily going down his neck. Oskar knows what he's doing, but he can't help the way his breath hitches and he has to stop himself from baring his neck. The kisses are half-hearted—Oskar notices immediately—so he laces his fingers through Jackson's hair and tugs gently. The other boy separates himself from Oskar's neck, caught.

“Seriously, what?” he repeats, tensing as he lets go of Jackson's hair. Oskar can't help the shame that steadily grows in his gut, this perceived disinterest fucking with his brain and messing him up further. “I can tell you wanna say something.”

He starts to feel the pleasure that blocked out the pit in his chest slip away as Jackson distractedly runs his hands up over Oskar’s waist and down to his hips. Jackson just stares at him, in that same thoughtful manner that's starting to annoy him, but the blonde just clenches his jaw, shifting in Jackson's lap, waiting.

Jackson takes a deep breath and, all of a sudden, his eyes can't seem to stay on Oskar. Does he not want me? is, embarrassingly, Oskar's first thought, followed by an emotion that feels too similar to betrayal. “I just—” Jackson starts, then stops, licking his lips and forcing his eyes to meet Oskar's piercing ones. He takes a breath, smoothing his hands down the front of Oskar's stomach to fiddle with the drawstring of his sweats. “I like you.”

Oskar, dramatically, thinks that's the worst news he's ever heard.

What is he supposed to do with that?

He feigns ignorance.

“Clearly,” Oskar replies, voice tight with guilt and with a grind against where Jackson's hard in his boxers.

The taller boy scoffs, cracks a smile, and leaves Oskar's sweats alone to still him again. Oskar's joke must've elevated some nervousness, because Jackson says, “No, really,” through a smile. “I like you—like… romantically.”

He doubled down.

Oskar feels like ice water got poured over him, hearing that word come out of Jackson's mouth.

Romantically.

He can't help the way his face drops, his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest as the pit starts to peak through any feeling of okayness he managed to get. He also can't stop his arms from subconsciously sliding off of Jackson's shoulders.

“Oh.”

Jackson smiles all confused like he's unable to believe Oskar's reaction, furrows his eyebrows, and then tries to relax his face to mask his hurt. “Oh?”

The hurt on his face makes Oskar's body light up with the most guilt he's felt in a long time, but as much as he wants to love someone in that way—he's learned he can't. Not effectively, at least. Now, he’s the one unable to look at the other boy.

Oskar puts his hands on the other's shoulders again, feeling his palms burn with shame, but this time, it's to help prop himself up off of Jackson's lap. When his legs touch the floor, Oskar tries to remove his hands, but he's stopped by Jackson's own.

“Oh?” Jackson repeats, staring up at him with such an inebriating mix of confusion and hurt, asking for clarification.

Oskar pulls his hands away. He takes a breath, trying to steady himself. “I thought—I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?” asks Jackson, exasperated.

Oskar's eyes get a little cloudy, and he feels a lump in his throat, a crushing weight on his chest. “I'm not—I told you when we started this that I didn't want anything… romantic.”

Jackson scoffs out a humourless laugh, unbelieving. “Everyone says that, but no one actually means it.”

His words make Oskar's snap down to look at him with a miserable expression, shame hot and sharp in his stomach. Oskar has never thought that anyone around him would understand his disdain for romantic connection, but Jackson's words still make his chest clench up with a kind of hurt he's not used to feeling. He steps back, feeling this surge of uneasiness pump through his veins, but that incites Jackson to stand up.

“I meant it,” Oskar mumbles, looking back down. He focuses on the wooden floorboards of Jackson's room, forcing himself to take in the details to keep the tears he feels threatening to well up at bay.

Jackson stays quiet for a couple of moments, but Oskar feels his stare, like he's examining Oskar under a microscope, looking for any sign of deception.

He finds none, but he still demands, “be serious.”

Oskar inhales sharply. “I am.”

Jackson lets out a breath like he's been punched and then he takes a step forward, which makes Oskar raise his head to look in him in slight alarm. Jackson has this crazed look on his face and it makes Oskar tense up, his body trying to prepare itself for whatever Jackson chooses to do.

It doesn't work, because Oskar's not expecting Jackson to state, “no one wants a relationship where you just fuck,” all confidently, in a tone that leaves no room for argument, like his words are fact. “That's—fuckin' weird.”

Oskar feels himself sink deeper into the emotions he'd come here to avoid. His chest feels like it's an open wound; a throbbing, painfully numbing wound deep in his heart, in his lungs, and he feels suffocated by it, like it's taking up too much space in his ribcage. He lets his head fall as he tries to breathe through the feeling to stabilize himself, to will himself not to let more tears build up in his eyes.

Jackson steps closer again and puts his hand under Oskar's chin, between his pointer and his thumb as Oskar flinches at the contact. He guides his head up and gazes down at the blonde with an expression that makes Oskar's stomach churn with discomfort.

Then, Jackson's eyes turn soft, almost pitiful. “I was giving you sex because I thought that's what you needed to open up,” he admits, tone all sweet and gentle like those words aren't knifes against Oskar's skin. Like they won't stay with Oskar and add themselves to the thoughts that seep away at his will to be. “At some point,” he continues, uncaring of the way Oskar's shoulders have raised up to his ears, the way Oskar's tears have started to slide down his face. “I was—I don't know—expecting something back.”

Oskar feels dirty. He thinks back to all the time they've messed around, and he feels nausea swirl around his stomach.

He yanks Jackson's hand off of his chin and glares up at him, tears still sliding down his face and clouding his vision. “You thought fucking me would make me like you back?” he asks, venomous despite all the guilt and shame swirling in his gut.

Jackson has the audacity to look embarrassed. “When you say it like that, it sounds desperate,” he huffs. “But, yeah… I just thought that's how you were.”

Oskar didn't think he could feel worse.

How he was? Like Oskar's so easy that fucking him would make him feel love, an emotion that he's tried so hard to force on himself to appear normal in the eyes of others—starting with all the girls he's talked to knowing he couldn't give them what they wanted out of him—when all his friends suddenly got interested in romance.

If only it were that easy.

Oskar breathes out, sniffles, and raises his head towards the ceiling in hopes of keeping more tears from rolling down his cheeks. “Well,” he tries, his voice breaking a little, his throat tight with a lump, “sorry you wasted your time.”

Oskar sees Jackson process the rejection out of the corner of his eye; his face going from disbelief to anger in just a couple tense moments. Oskar crushes his eyes together and scrunches his face up, not wanting to see Jackson's face anymore as he brings his hands up to his face and rubs his eyes, trying to get rid of the wetness there.

Eventually, the silence is broken by Jackson's indignant scoff and Oskar immediately stops rubbing at his eyes, tilting his head down to look at the taller boy as he takes a step closer to him, making himself bigger to tower over the blonde.

Jackson's face is darker than it was just a moment ago, his eyes full of a sort of outrage Oskar's never seen before. “So, you used me.”

Oskar struggles to process the words. His brows knot together as he searches Jackson's face. “What?”

“You used me for sex.”

Oskar blanches, jolting slightly in shock as words escape him at the accusation. A voice inside his head whispers you did, didn't you? as his brain helpfully provides him with flashing images of all the times he's showed up to the taller boy's house, looking stress relief.

He feels nauseous, his stomach swimming with intoxicating amounts of guilt and shame as his chest clenches. “What—no,” he denies, but he wonders if he's telling the truth. “I told you what this was when we started this.”

Jackson huffs, and Oskar can feel all the frustration radiating off of him with him this close. “Yeah,” he acknowledges reluctantly, and the logical part of Oskar thinks that recognition should make some of his guilt die out, but it doesn't, and Jackson continues bitterly, “but what kind of freak just wants sex? Everyone wants a romantic relationship.”

Oskar's eyes fill up with tears again instantly and they start to roll down his cheeks as his breath stutters in his chest. It was weird, wasn't it? He can't love properly, he can't give back to anyone, yet he still wants?

Oskar might be the worst kind of person.

“This freak doesn't,” he replies, voice thick with emotion.

Jackson breathes out angrily, like he can't accept Oskar's rejection. “At least you know what you are.”

Jackson outright saying what he thinks of Oskar now that he knows of Oskar's incapability to love is what makes all the guilt and shame turn into anger, even for just a second.

“Fuck you!” Oskar grunts out loudly as he shoves Jackson as hard as he can, making him stumble back against his bed, the bed frame roughly colliding with the wall behind it.

Oskar feels ripped apart afterwards, so overwhelmingly empty that the anger doesn't cling onto him like it usually does, instead it just leaves his entire body numb in the way he tried so hard to avoid. He just wants to leave now, to escape, so he hurries to the door and harshly turns the handle, opening it and then slamming it behind him, a loud thud sounding out throughout the second floor.

He clumsily runs down the stairs, tears clouding his vision, and hears the creak of multiple doors opening behind him as he makes it to the front door, so he doesn't bother putting his shoes on. He bends down and grabs them instead, opens the door and walks outside, his socked feet stepping over Jackson's porch, and then the rocks on the gravel path leading up to it.

Tears can't stop rolling out of his eyes, onto his cheeks and down his chin, dripping down and dampening his shirt as he struggles to sniffle quietly. His hand comes up to his face once in a while, wiping away at what he can even if he knows the wetness will come back in just a few seconds. It's hard to see or breathe as he passes through Jackson's neighbourhood, his vision fogged and his breath halting in his chest every few seconds. The black sky and the few street lights aren't helping either; the night envelops him in this darkness that makes the pit sink deeper and deeper into his being.

He needs to get away. He needs to be anywhere else than with another person who thinks lowly of him.

---

Oskar mindlessly drifts through the upper-class neighbourhood Jackson lives in, getting further and further away from his house with tears still streaking down his face as he moves with fatigue in each step. He barely feels real anymore—he can barely feel anything at all. His body knows it’s sad, so tears keep flowing, but he feels disconnected from himself. He can't focus on where he's going, he just keeps putting one foot in front of the other. The pit is still there, and even through the disconnect he feels, the pit makes it harder for him to move.

His feet are killing him; he tripped on rocks a couple of times, which made his thin socks rip open and some parts of his feet scrape against whatever bullshit was out on the sidewalk, bruising and cutting them open.

His head is also killing him, swirling with thoughts that Oskar would do anything to stop, and crying so much gave him an intense migraine.

He thinks it would be better for him not to be here.

Oskar stops, right next to a mailbox, when his feet feel like they're about to fall off, lifting his shirt up one-handed to wipe the tears away from his face. He takes a deep breath and yawns, exhausted by the overstimulating amount of sensation he's felt within his body. It's the worst he's felt in a while.

He always forgets it can get this bad.

He looks around, eyes heavy, to his right then to his left, and furrows his eyebrows. He's standing in front of Dusty's house. He tries to perk up, since his subconscious didn't let him forget that he had a friend in this part of the neighbourhood, but the pit promptly stops that, instead spreading a horrible wave of intense numbness throughout his chest.

He sighs, rounds Dusty's dad's car and makes his way up his driveway and to his front door.

Once he's standing at the entrance, he shifts a bit, staring at the door in contemplation. It was probably pretty late by now, so he has no doubt that Dusty's asleep.

He chews on his lip as he uses his unoccupied hand to get his phone out of the pocket of his sweats, and it lights up as he raises it to his face. The screen's brightness nearly blinds him, but he squints and the time reads 1:45 in the morning. He feels a wave of guilt flash through him as he unlocks it to phone Dusty anyway.

His thumb hesitates over the call button, but he presses it anyway, regret filling him up as he hears the phone ring. Oskar wears out his lip as he waits, taking a deep breath through his nose, before his call goes through.

“Hello?” Dusty says over the phone, his voice groggy and slightly deeper from sleep. Oskar hears the sound of bedsheets moving over the phone and presumes that Dusty moved to sit up. Oskar hesitates to speak, breath caught in his throat, and that urges Dusty's raspy voice to sound out through his phone's speakers again. “Hello..?”

Oskar breathes in.

“Mate, I'm—” he tries, but his voice is muddle by all the tears he's shed, so he clears it a couple of times, willing himself not to tear up as he rids himself of the lump that wants to form in his throat. His words feel heavy. “I'm outside, can you let me in?”

The line goes quiet for a few moments and Oskar scrunches his face up, expecting rejection, but Dusty just lets out a confused, “what?” like he didn't hear him. Oskar really doesn't want to repeat himself, he thinks the shame he'd feel from that would send him crying again, but Dusty's phone picks up the sound of his bedsheets shuffling and the floor creaking, which tells Oskar that he got up out of bed.

Oskar puts his lips in a thin line and sighs as the door unlocks soon after. He hangs up the phone and puts it back in his pocket as Dusty comes into view, running his hands through his bed hair and blinking at him a few times. He's only wearing sleep pants that hang low on his hips, and, traitorously, Oskar's brain makes him notice how his boxers peak out slightly.

He burns with slight mortification, forcing his eyes to look at Dusty.

Dusty just tiredly looks Oskar over, noticing his usually pale face all red. All at once, Oskar sees the fatigue fight its way off of his face as he asks, “shit, you okay?”

“Yeah, just peachy.”

Dusty cracks a smile at that and decides to not say anything else, even though Oskar knows how much of a mess he looks right now, all pathetic at his doorstep. He moves to the side to let Oskar in as he continues to eye him down. Oskar sort of feels like Dusty's looking right through him, that he can tell Oskar's fucked, somehow, like how Jackson’s figured that out. Oskar sighs and drops his shoes, stepping further into Dusty's house as the door closes behind him.

There's a light awkwardness hanging in the air between them because Oskar knows that Dusty sees how bad he's fairing, but Dusty's never been a particularly emotional person, so he keeps quiet.

Oskar gazes at his socks, toeing them down to hide the holes as he feels Dusty's expectant stare on him, like if his eyes are piercing enough, the blonde will bare his soul. Oskar peers up, instead, and licks his lips, before asking as nonchalantly as possible, “do you have any… drinks?”

The taller boy frowns immediately and Oskar tries to keep his face as still as possible. Dusty quirks his head to the side. “Drinks?” he repeats, incredulous.

Oskar rolls his eyes, feeling his eyes sting and his gut knot up. “Alcohol,” he clarifies, exaggerating the syllables in slight annoyance. He even mimes throwing a shot back.

Dusty lets out a humoured breath, smiles, and shakes his head fondly. “I know that's what you meant,” he says through his smile, and walks towards Oskar as his face turns back into the frown from earlier. “But, I also know you hate drinking. Hence,” he puts on an exaggerated questioning tone, “drinks?”

Oskar sighs again, presses his lips together into a thin line. He probably shouldn't drink, it always makes him miserable, but what other way could he stop the distressing thoughts that invade his mind, even just for a couple of hours? “Yes, drinks,” he confirms blankly. “I know what I said.” His voice is just on the edge of irritation which he can tell Dusty catches by the way he raises an eyebrow at him all concerned.

“You sure?”

Oskar frustration builds, mixing in with the dangerous cocktail of emotions thrumming through his body. “Fuck, Dusty, I'm not a child,” he says, trying to keep the irritation out of his tone, lightly glaring at Dusty. “Give me a drink.”

Dusty has this look on his face that's eerily similar to pity, which usually would piss Oskar off to no end, but that emotion is working in his favour this time, so he doesn't react to it. The taller boy makes his way to his kitchen, his bare feet tapping against the wooden and then marble floor to reach his parents' alcohol drawer with Oskar on his heels.

Dusty eyes the different drinks in contemplation. Oskar goes on his tip-toes, which hurts so he's sure his feet are cut up or bruised, to take in the options as well. He's not sure what to choose as he trails his gaze over the bottles, but he eventually stops on a drink he's heard fuck people up quickly.

“Give me that one,” Oskar says, more of a demand than anything as he points to the bottle of vodka.

Dusty looks over his shoulder to look at him. “You sure?”

Oskar sighs, frustrated, and lightly shoves Dusty to the side to reach the drawer and grabs the bottle of vodka. Oskar examines the top, silently wondering how to open it as he catches Dusty's concerned stare, which incites him to twist the top and use the counter below the drawer to crack open the drink. He takes a breath, and then he starts downing the drink.

He takes big gulps, closing his eyes as he endures how the liquid burns his throat.

“Oi, hey,” Dusty calls, worry lacing his tone as he reaches for the drink, but Oskar avoids his hands and turns away, stumbling a little as he continues to chug it down.

“Mate, hey, slow down—” Dusty warns again, but the blonde doesn't listen, doesn't even take a breath, and Dusty decides to press himself against Oskar's back and forcefully take it away, a spray of liquid falling down the blonde's face as the taller boy holds it high out of his grasp when Oskar tries to get it back.

Oskar attempts, feebly, to get the bottle back from Dusty, but he makes his way to the sink and dumps the rest of it out, ignoring Oskar’s protests about it. Dusty places the empty bottle next to the sink and turns around to eye the blonde with disbelief.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?” He asks, and Oskar gives him a watery-eyed glare in response. He looks between the empty bottle and the other drinks in the drawer, but as he goes to take another bottle, he gets stopped by Dusty's grip on his arm. “Os, you've had enough.”

“Fuck off,” Oskar complains, trying to free his arm. He's starting to feel his thoughts slow and the familiar panic it comes with, but it's making his brain slowly discard the pit and focus on the wooziness spreading in his veins.

Dusty hardens his grip and stares at Oskar for a few seconds, before pulling him towards the stairs, leading him up with a bit of difficulty since the blonde complains and whisper-shouts at him to let go the whole time, but Dusty still manages to get Oskar into his room.

Once the door to Dusty's room gets closed with both boys inside, Dusty sits Oskar down on his bed and looks down at him like he's insane. “Genuinely, what is up with you?”

Oskar's eyes harden, feeling them sting with unshed tears he blinks away as he pouts a little. “Nothing's up with me, you arse.”

Dusty's eyebrows twitch up, like he can't believe that Oskar would attempt a lie right after the display he made in the kitchen. He furrows his eyebrows down at the blonde. “You came over at like 2 AM and downed, like, more than half a bottle of vodka,” he points out, crossing his arms.

This display of sudden responsibility coming from Dusty sort of pisses Oskar off. “So?”

The taller boy scoffs. “'So?' he says,” he mocks. “The guy who supposedly hates drinking downing half a bottle of alcohol and nothing's wrong with him, sure.”

Oskar feels regret bubbling his stomach at Dusty's words, like they made his body suddenly remember that he chugged vodka and the need to throw up laps at his throat. He frowns, swallowing hard, and slurs, “fuck off,” and ignores the discomfort he feels because his mind would be quiet soon enough.

After a few moments of silence, Dusty huffs, “Os, mate, I'm worried about you,” like he's spelling it out for Oskar, like Oskar's an idiot. “This is worrying.”

Oskar snorts at that, swaying slightly from where he’s sitting near the edge of Dusty’s bed, feeling his thoughts come to a slow. “Since when do you worry?” He slurs, exhaling when the pit in his chest slowly gets discarded by his brain to focus on the new-found drowsiness and sluggishness the alcohol brought with it, which is just what he wanted.

Dusty sighs, his gaze still on Oskar, taking in the way his pupils have widened and how he has to steady himself with his arms to find balance. He uncrosses his arms and sits down next to Oskar, making the blonde smile at him all dopey-like.

“See?” Oskar says, the words dragging as he sways closer to Dusty. “‘verything’s good.”

Dusty turns to face him, looking at his friend with an expression that Oskar can’t decipher, only knowing that it makes his heart clench in his chest. The blonde bites his lip through a smile, holding Dusty’s gaze, proper drunk now.

“Oskar…” Dusty breathes out, sounding defeated as he pushes his hair up out of his face.

“Hm?”

Dusty shifts to the side, his body facing Oskar’s as he raises his hand to cradle the blonde’s jaw. He makes Oskar look at him properly as he observes him in a way that makes the blonde feel hazier. Dusty’s lips form a thin line as he stays quiet, just examining Oskar, and then he finally says, “your eyes are all puffy,” like he hadn’t noticed before.

Oskar just looks at him, dumb and unfocused. The proximity and with the way his head is swimming with the effects of the alcohol, he perceives Dusty’s eyes on him, the warm hand on his jaw, and the fuzzy feeling in his stomach as an invitation to close the distance between them, placing his lips on Dusty’s.

Dusty kisses back, like it’s a habit, before he grips Oskar’s shoulders to push him back a little and halt his movements. Oskar suddenly feels like he messed up, his body feeling cold and rigid, and even through the alcohol, he feels the way the pit in his chest makes itself known again.

“You’re drunk,” Dusty whispers weakly. “I don’t wanna kiss you when you’re fucked up.”

Oskar feels his breath leave his chest, like his lungs are getting squeezed. His eyes sting again, and the pit beats in his chest, like it’s alive, sending waves of self-loathing throughout his body. He shoves Dusty off of him, feeling dirty all of a sudden. “Fuck you,” Oskar finds himself saying a second time as he stands up. “You’re so—you’re so up-yourself, so fuckin’ self-righteous all of a sudden, acting like you have to take care of me—when I know how you are.”

He doesn’t even know what he’s saying, really.

“Os—“ Dusty tries, getting up after him.

Oskar lifts his hands between them, stumbling back away from him, demanding distance. “Nah, you know what?” He slurs, glaring at him, unfocused. “You can go right to hell.”

Dusty’s face scrunched up in hurt, but he still takes a step forward, slow like Oskar’s a scared animal, and tries to touch him again, tries to coax him onto his bed. “Stay, Oskar. You can’t leave all drunk,” he says, trying to reason with him, but Oskar scoffs and shakes his head, feeling disoriented as he continues to back away towards the door.

“You can go right. To. Hell,” he repeats and then stumbles his way out of Dusty’s room. He barely makes it down the stairs without tripping over himself, but his need to escape gives him the stability necessary.

He swings the door open and walks out, forgetting his shoes. Tears are steadily flowing down his face as he struggles to breathe, his crying more intense and pronounced by how out of his mind he is.

He feels stupid.

---

Oskar makes it home after what feels like tedious hours of walking, weighing down on his limbs. He roughly opens his front door with his house-key he had somehow remembered to bring with him. He closes the door behind him and forgets to lock it, the feeling of growing nausea in his stomach taking priority in his head.

He stumbles to the bathroom, attempting to run and failing, and throws up in the toilet, emptying his stomach from the poison that helped him make a fool out of himself. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stays near the toilet for a while, gripping the seat as he sobs.

After his little pity party in the bathroom, he grabs onto the sink and props himself up, staggering as he makes his way to his bedroom. He has to lean against the wall as he walks, every step he takes makes the hallway spin around him.

Oskar enters his room and roughly pulls off his shirt, throwing it on the floor. He flops onto the bed, the fan propped up on the dresser still blowing strong hours later right where he lays his head over his pillow.

He clumsily wipes at his face, trying and failing to stop crying. He lays there, shivering slightly because of the fan as he struggles to even out his breathing.

Everything is foggy and painful. His head throbs, so he closes his eyes and tries to sleep, very carefully not thinking about not waking up tomorrow. He tells himself, in his head, that he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care at all.

[kaivenom]

can i request for some more heartbreak high ant fics, the last of it is killing me !!

A little competition

Summary: you get to a new recreatives on town and decide to try every game, apparenty one of the boys in your high school doesn't like someone beating his records.

Pairing: Anthony "Ant" Vaughn

Warnings: none

A/N: here it is, since this precious men has so little content, almost inexistent, i decided to do it myself.

Masterlist

You were new on town and your firsts days on high school weren't the best to make friends so you decided to get ot a new recreatives to try talking to people. You talked to many people and was really fun but the thing you succeded on was to beat game records, especially you beat up "Ant's" records in everygame he was on.

You had such a great time that you decided to go there again the next day. Some people greeted you in, it was great to feel a little included. You went to a new game and saw again, the highest record was "Ant". With a couple of tries, you succeded on surpass him, you couldn't help but imagine how the person would react when seeing the news. You went to grab a snack and talk to some people.

When you came back, you saw a cute guy with a cap and some other guys on the machine you were before, you recognized them from high school.

"Fuck man, i don't know who is this person but it's breaking my records in almost every game, if i catch them i will break some," you hide yourself behind one of the stalls.

"Men, it's not that important, but if you want, we can kick them for breaking your records."

That made you really scared and you had the sensation that every moment they could catch you. You got out of the local without catching their attention but you failed.

"Hi, are you the new girl from school, right?" you try to sound confident at his question.

"Yeah, i am Y/N, you?"

"Ant, you haven't by any chance saw a person on the machines getting really high scores, right?"

"What?, me? ... no. Why would i do that?" your nervousness was revealing you.

"There's no reason to be so nervous, unless..." he made a pause, thinking about it and then his face turned surprised, "You are..."

"i am a pacifist but i heard what you said i won't hesitate to fight." you form a punch and made a feint to prepare to fight.

"What? no. I was angry and with the boys, i don't want to hit someone so pretty."

"Ah , no?"

"I don't plan to do it, do you want me to?"

"No, of course."

"But i am still angry and i want to resolve this because i worked really hard to be that good."

"A competition on a two player game?"

He gave you his hand to shake it, sealing the deal and you both went inside. You decided to fight on a game that both of you weren't really good, to make things interesting. He won the first time, then you, then he two times, then you three... and continued to do so until the recreatives were closing.

"I liked doing this, maybe it's good to have a competitor that it's as good as me." he said with a grin.

"Wait, i winned you more."

"No, i winned more."

"We need to confirm that, here tomorrow, again."

"i am not going to be defeated by you pretty face."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Because you are... well, if you win more tomorrow the i stop calling you pretty face but if i win, then i invite you to dinner." he said, giving you his hand to shake again.

"Okay, i will win but maybe the dinner it's still a good idea, but you pay."

"No, pretty face, if you want me to pay dinner the you have to loose."

You both laughed and went separatedly to your houses but really hoping that tomorrow gets fast to compete again.

[endlessmusings1801]

It's finished 😁😁😁😁

For Now (34343 words) by Endlessmusings1801 Chapters: 26/26 Fandom: Heartbreak High (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Missy Beckett/Spencer "Spider" White, Harper McLean/Anthony "Ant" Vaughn, Malakai Mitchell/Amerie Wadia Characters: Spencer "Spider" White, Missy Beckett, Amerie Wadia, Malakai Mitchell, Harper McLean (Heartbreak High TV 2022), Anthony "Ant" Vaughn Additional Tags: Angst, Smut, Slow Burn, spider being domestic, missy being a boss, what happens when they grow up, Meet-Cute, spider gets therapy, Spencer "Spider" White Redemption, Yoga, Banter, Shower Sex, Orgasm Edging, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, lap dance, Hair-pulling, Light Spanking, Post-Coital Cuddling, Minor Character Death Series: Part 1 of Heartbreak High Update Summary: Missy and Spider went their separate ways after Hartley High burned down. More than a decade later, after Spencer is called back to Australia to take care of his Mum, they meet again.

If you only read completed fics....it's done

[itsss4t4n]

Who I write for /Rules

Masterlist

I'm new-ish to writing (i used to write fanfiction when i was like 13. i'm 18 now soo..) but I really wanna do it again.

So this is a list of characters/fandoms I write for as well as some rules for asks. Some things may be missing from this list so if you dont see something on this list, feel free to ask. :))

I will add a prompt list to this blog soon but again feel free to request other scenarious. Do add as much detail as you want to a request and please ALWAYS have at least some sort of prompt, as i'm really not good with coming up with storys on my own yet.

I WILL NOT DO SMUT SO DONT REQUEST IT! I might however do spicy stuff (Nothing more than making out tho).

My writing will be for all ages but please still be careful if the fic-warnings include sensitive topics and i might repost some 18+ things so be careful when navigating my blog.

Please be nice and have manners when requesting.

If you have any questions at all if i write for something, or if a topic you want me to write about is okay or not, please reach out through my asks or my inbox.

Also please include what gender/pronouns you want the reader to have (i write for all genders):)))

I write both romantic and platonic for all my characters. Although Teen!readers will always be platonic if the character is an adult.

I also write poly relationships. AUs are also totally on the table (big Fan of celebrity AUs).

Some things I will not write include: Pregnancy, toxic/yandere, student x teacher.

(Also english isnt my first language, and even know in my opinion i speak it really well, if they are any mistakes, thats why.)

Heartbreak high

-harper mclean

-quinni ghallager-jones

-darren rivers

-spencer "spider" white

-anthony "ant" vaughn

-malakai mitchel

Sally face

-Sal Fisher

-Travis Phelps (male or gn readers)

-Larry Johnson

-Ashley Campbell

Harry Potter

-Fred Weasley

-george Weasley

-Charly weasley

-Bill weasley

-cedric diggory

-olliver wood

-sirius black

-remus lupin

Marauders

-James potter

-sirius black

-remus lupin

-regulus black

-Evan rosier

-Barty crouch jr

-pandora lestrange

-lilly evans

-marlene mckinnon

Hogwarts Legacy

-Sebastian Sallow

-Ominus Gaunt

-Gareth Weasley

-Poppy Sweetings

-Imelda Reyes

Die drei fragezeichen / the three investigators

-Bob Andrews

-Peter Shaw

-Justus Jonas

-Skinny Norris

Twilight

-Jasper Hale

-Emmet Cullen

-carlisle cullen

-esme cullen

-rosalie hale

-alice cullen

-sam uley

-Paul lahote

-charlie swan

-Leah clearwater

pjo

-Percy jackson

-Anabeth chase

-luke castellan

-clarrisse larue

-selena beauregard

-charles beckendorf

-ethan nakamura

-nico di anglo (no romantic fem readers)

-rachel elizabeth dare

-will solace

-travis stoll

-connor stoll

-hazel levesque (no romantic)

-jason grace

-leo valdez

-piper mclean

Magnus chase

-Magnus chase

-samirah al abbas ( no romantic)

-alex fierro

-blitzen

-hearthstone

-malory keen

-tj (thomas jefferson jr)

Kane chronicles (havent read it in a while so might be ooc)

-Carter kane

-sadie kane

-anubis

-walt stone

Bridgerton

-Benedict

-Anthony

-Eloise

-Daphne

MCU (Avengers)

-bucky Barnes

-steve rogers

-tony stark

-sam wilson

-natasha romanoff

-yelena belova

-Peter Parker (tom holland and andrew garfield)

-MJ

-Wanda maximof

-Piedro maximof

-Clint barton

-scott lang

-stephen strange

-kate bishop

MCU ( Guardians of the galaxy)

-peter quill

-gamora

Moonknight

-steven grant

-mark spector

-layla el-faouly

Daredevil (Season 1)

-matt murdock

-Foggy nelson

-Karen page

-James wesley

X-men universe

-Deadpool

-Weasly

-francis

-Xavier

-negasonic

-mystic

-Angel

-kurt

Venom

-Eddie Brock

DC

-Harley Quinn

-Jason Todd

-Dick Grayson (any version, young justice, robin, nightwing,etc.)

-wally west

-Artemis

-roy harper (young justice)

Disney Descendants

-Mal

-Evie

-Carlos devil

-Jay

-Benjamin beast

-Chad charming

-Audrey rose

-jane

-lonnie

-Uma

-Harry hook

-Gil

Rise of red

-james hook

-hades

-bridget

-ella

-cloe

-red

-morgie

Kingsmen

-Eggsy

Tiny Pretty things (Netflix)

-Bette Whitlaw

-oren lennox

-shane madej (no romantic fem readers)

-June park

Jennifers Body

-Jennifer Check

-Colin gray

Ever after high

-all characters

Redacted Audios (no x reader, just ships)

-literally all characters

[plumsfromyouricebox]

a brief Heartbreak High interlude

did anyone else become completely obsessed with this pairing in the latest season? I couldn’t get them out of my head so I wrote a quick lil fic about them :)

hit me hard and soft (5303 words) by Plumsfromyouricebox Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Heartbreak High (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Harper McLean/Anthony "Ant" Vaughn Characters: Harper McLean (Heartbreak High TV 2022), Anthony "Ant" Vaughn Additional Tags: Post-Season/Series 02, 5+1 Things, Getting Together, Fluff and Smut, Recreational Drug Use, First Time, Falling In Love Summary: For Harper, the most harrowing part of the night hadn’t even been the smoke choking the air out of her lungs or the flames licking up the door of the AV room. It’d been after, when she was forced to finally confront the fact that her good friend had somehow wormed his way into her rotten, blackened, dog shit heart despite her best attempts at keeping it closed off.  or five times Ant and Harper took things slow and one time they didn’t. 

[truessences]

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

I saw this from a mutual @teafiend and I'm gonna do it lol

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

9; they're mostly one shots. I think there are two that are multichapter. There are two that are part of a series of oneshots.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

I'm not sure if there's a formal way to check it but 26,602 (as of 11/3/23)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now Stranger Things. I have one Harry Potter one.

In the past, on FF.net there might be more, like from Final Fantasy VII and more Harry Potter but I don't post on there anymore so I'm not counting it lol.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Closer to You (Mileven oneshot) - 91 kudos

2. One More Light (4 or 5 chapter fic Mileven) - 58 kudos

3. Dirty Dancing (Dramione oneshot) - 55 kudos

4. It's a Mad World (One shot about Mike and Eddie's first meeting) - 49 kudos

5. Roll Away Your Stone (Mike & Max fix set in S3) - 40 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why? Why not?

I always try to, since I don't get a lot of interaction (which is fine, I know how this works lol) so when I do, the comments are super appreciated. I don't post for comments but they are always nice.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?.

Ummmm lol I don't think any of them end angstily lol but maybe not Happily Ever After. At least the ones that are finished lol. Maybe Dirty Dancing because of how it ends? I don't know lol. I'm still debating on if my Stranger Things-Titanic AU will end happy lol

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I feel like they're all pretty happy but not like Happily Ever After kind of thing.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet lol

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No, I don't feel like I would be good at it lol. Maybe one day and maybe in the Stranger Things-Titanic AU will be my first. I've written it before kind of... but not in a fanfiction... hard to explain lol.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No but I did have an idea years ago of a Peter Pan/Hermione Granger fic but no idea where I wanted to go with it so lol.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Stealing people's fan work is low hanging fruit so get a life.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No... but I have written with people before for other "fan" stuff.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

That's hard lol I don't think I have an ALL TIME fave but I'll name a few and not in any particular order. And because I like these, doesn't mean I've written a fic for them or read a fic of them (most likely I have though). I actually did a post a while back on some fave anime ships, I'll link that. Fave Anime Ships.

Bamon (Bonnie Bennett & Damon Salvatore)

NejiTen (Neji Hyuga & Tenten)

Cloti (Cloud Strife & Tifa Lockhart)

Hacy (Harry Greenwood & Macy Vaughn)

Kanthony (Kate Sharma & Anthony Bridgerton)

Cole Cassidy & Sombra (this one is new but I really like it lol)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Nothing, I plan to finish everything.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm not sure lol, I feel like I capture character voices well. I tend to write in third person and I can still get across how my characters are feeling and thinking. I also write original novels and have been for over 10 years so I hope my strengths have strengthened over the years.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Tenses really kick my ass and I overthink it. I feel like some people have really beautiful and lyrical ways of writing and I definitely can't do that lol.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Haven't and won't.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter

20. Favourite fics you’ve written?

Um.... I'm not sure if I have a favorite lol. Maybe One More Light only because I actually teared up a little when writing one of the chapters because I just let my fingers go and it flowed. Whether or not it's good, well lol but I do think that one is emotional.

But that's it!

[general-fanfiction]

Foreign Exchanges. (Anthony Vaughn x Reader.)

Summary: Moving school in the middle of the year is never easy. Let alone from an entirely different country. Despite Y/N trying to garner the least amount of attention possible, she still manages to catch the eye of a certain brunette.

Word Count: 1.5k

Gif Not Mine . Requests are open!

Warnings: Mature language.

A/N: My first Ant fic and I’m debating making this a series but you’ll have to let me know what you think! Anyway just a short one to start us off but there’ll be more soon. Don’t forget requests are open!

“I’d like you all to offer a warm welcome to our new student Y/N Y/L/N, she’s moved here all the way from the UK! So let’s show her some of that Hartley spirit.” The teacher, who introduced herself as Jojo, announces to the class. All of them staring at me with blank stares. “Go ahead and say a few words.”

She nudges my shoulder gently before I can decline the offer. Encouraging smile on her face. There are no smiles from my classmates however, only bored faces who couldn’t be less interested in my arrival. For which I’m grateful. I’d seen this school on the news prior to my enrolment, I know these students are brutal. I mean, a sex map? Dad wasn’t too happy about sending me here though he didn’t really have a choice, no other schools were admitting students this late into the term.

“Um hi, I’m Y/N. It’s good to be here I guess.”

“Does anybody have any questions for Y/N?” Jojo offers, attempting to find a way for the class to get to me.

Numerous hands raise and I let out a groan internally. It’s bad enough that I’m stood at the front of the classroom like a new shiny toy but to now be subject to whatever ridiculous questions these teens can come up with is a new form of torture. One that I am really not looking forward to.

Jojo points to her first student, allowing them to be the first to ask. “Why don’t you have a proper British accent?” The girl seems genuinely curious, eyes focused on me as she combs her fingers through her orange hair. Stickers adorn her face along with colourful eyeshadow to match her bright outfit. She has a gentle aura surrounding her, which makes me relieved as I realise her question wasn’t meant in malice and more so pure interest. Maybe these kids won’t be so bad?

“Um, I think the accent you’re think of is the Queen’s English. There isn’t many people that talk like that really, maybe a few down south but I grew up in the North East. None of us talk posh.” I tell her, watching as she seems to take notes as I speak.

“Thank you Quinni, Spider what about you?” Jojo asks, pointing to the tall blonde that is hunched over at the back of the class.

His eyes flicker up to me, giving me the once over though he doesn’t seem too impressed by my presence.

“Yeah, what is it with you and all the other poms having bad teeth?” The boy pipes up, I notice the two boys next to him laugh. Though the one in the baggy outfit makes eye contact with me and a flash of guilt appears on his face.

“I don’t have bad teeth actually. Nobody I know does and to be perfectly honest, that stereotype is deeply rooted in classism and while the UK faces a major cost of living and wealth gap crisis, I don’t think it’s funny to joke about things like that. Do you?” I retort, causing h the pink haired girl and her friend to applaud my mini speech. Both offering cheers.

“Okay any more questions that aren’t going to cause arguments?” Jojo asks, a few hands lowering as they don’t want to get in trouble. “Yes, Amerie?”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, yeah I really miss it.” I start, thinking of everything that I had to leave behind. I know this was the best decision for my family, but I do hold a slight resentment towards being here. “Don’t get me wrong, Sydney’s great and all, but I miss my friends, my house, my pets, I even miss the shitty pub from down the street.”

“Thank you Y/N, I feel like we’ve got to know you a little bit more now, so feel free to take a seat and we’ll get started.”

The only open seat is next to the girl that Jojo called Amerie. Smiling as I take my place, I open my notebook and begin to doodle swirls and other patterns across the page. Focusing on that rather than the subject being taught. It’s some form of sex education by the sounds of it. However, it seems very outdated and heteronormative. Nothing worth listening to anyway.

Upon hearing the bell ring, I begin to pack away my things and watch as a few students mutter things towards Amerie. “Map bitch.” “Cunt.” and “Crazy bitch.” Just to name a few. I realise that may be the reason she had nobody sat next to her and figure it may be best to avoid her if I want to stay under everybody’s radar.

Finding my locker, I begin to turn the lock with great difficulty. Back home, the numbers simply connect and the door clicks open, that doesn’t seem to be the case here though. Fiddling with the dial, I hear the bell signal the beginning of the next class and I huff, annoyed that I’m having this much trouble with a stupid locker.

As the hallways clears out, I continue to twist and pull at the lock. Bag dumped on the floor as I try with all my strength to pry the door open. With no such luck, I throw a quick kick to the locker beneath mine, leaving a dent in the door slightly. Slumping with my back again the metal, I find myself face to face with the boy in the baggy outfit.

Not previously noticing how cute he was, dark hair hidden beneath a beanie, a couple of curls escaping. Boyish grin plastered across his face and piercing brown eyes staring directly at me. I won’t even try to deny that Australia has one up on the Uk in terms of boys, they’re just so much cuter over here.

“What did the locker do to you?” He jokes, taking the slip of paper with the locker code out of my hand.

“Bloody thing won’t open.” I mumble, stepping out of the way as he demonstrates how to open it with ease. My cheeks tinged pink as I fear my outburst may have been unnecessary.

“I thought you Brits were supposed to be good at containing your emotions anyway.” He leans against the locker beside mine, watching me as I stuff countless books into the small space. Normally this would make me uncomfortable, yet there’s there’s something about him that makes me feel warm and calm.

“Nah we love our fair share of violence.” I tell him, smiling as I do so, remembering the amount of fights that used to take place on my estate daily. Providing free entertainment for all the neighbours. “We’re polite, but piss us off and we’ll knock you into next week.”

He laughs, folding his arms across his chest as I close the locker door. His eyes gaze over me as I turn to face him properly. Noticing the small cross necklace hanging from his neck, I can’t help but imagine what it would look like against his bare skin.

“You religious?” I ask, nodding towards the chain.

“Nah, I’m Ant.” He brushes off my question and tucks the necklace beneath his shirt. Clearly a touchy subject that perhaps I shouldn’t have brought up. So instead I attempt to lighten the mood.

“Ant?” The word escapes my mouth as a slight giggle, unable to hide the amusement his name brings. “And your mate’s called Spider?”

“Yeah, stupid right?” He chuckles, playing with the straps of his bag. Almost as if he’s nervous. “We’ve been best mates our entire lives. My real name’s Anthony but nobody calls me that. Same with Spider, his name’s Spencer. Kids started to call us Ant and Spider when we were like six, guess it just stuck.”

“That’s cute.”

Picking up my bag, I throw it over my shoulder. Figuring I should probably head to my next class despite being extremely late already.

“Hey, about Spider.” Ant reaches for my arm, clearly sensing that I’m about to leave. “I just wanted to apologise, he can be a bit of a dick but he’s a nice guy deep down.”

My arm tingles where he’s touching it, feeling the slightest of move of his fingers. As though my nerves are on fire. Suddenly hypersensitive to any little movement he makes. I know I shouldn’t be feeling things this intensely, hell, I’ve just met the guy. Yet he sparks an excitement in me that I haven’t felt in a while.

“Honestly it’s sound. You don’t need to apologise.” I assure him, offering a smile, I see his shoulders relax. “I can handle a prick like him any day.”

“Yeah you certainly shot him down quick.”

As he removes his hand from my arm, I’m quick to begin walking away. Cheesy grin on my face as I recall the interaction in my head despite it only happening seconds ago. I feel dizzy with excitement, my feet feel like they’re walking on clouds and I almost miss the shout from behind me as I go to turn the corner.

“Hey, do you wanna get high?”

[starlightdelrey]

axe throwing - a.v + h.m

spoilers for heart break high season one and two !!!!!

anthony vaughn x harper mclean

request: hi !! could you do a sweet first date type fic for ant and harper ?? i dont really see a lot of love for them so far but I AM OBSESSED! I was thinking maybe they'd go axe throwing for a first date since harper mentioned she wanted to go. ant is lowkey scared he's going to get a limb cut off then overcompensates w the bravado just bc he can see how much she's enjoying herself. u dont have to do this at all obviously but it was just some thoughts i had popping up

in which two of the hartley kids finally get a moment of peace together (or ant thinks he's gonna lose his arm)

lowercase intended

hbh masterlist + main masterlist

cw: mentions of past trauma, mostly fluff, end of season 2, i basically made up my own timeline to make it work, ive never been to axe throwing so i made some stuff up, not proofread !!!!

---

the hartley high kids were stuck in a sort of limbo - since the school had burn down not even two weeks before the term break, the school board had decided everybody deserved an extended break to help 'unpack their trauma'. almost everyone thought it was a load of bullshit but couldn't fight having almost a month off school.

harper had been struggling, although she'd never admit it to anyone. it was unfair - every time she almost healed from one experience, a brand new one happened. darren had recently been going through a housewife phase, and in one cooking attempt, they'd accidentally set off the fire alarm. it caused the blonde to shut down for almost 24 hours, the experience of being locked in a smoke-filled projection room taking over her thoughts.

ant had accidentally been a lurker for quite a few of these mini events - like witnessing chook stare down harper at the housewarming party. when woodsy had called for harper and amerie during the fire, his whole body had been filled with a sense of dread (although he'd never tell harper how he'd fought to try and get to her).

the two decided to keep everything between them as light as possible, which had led to today's activity being set up.

harper dashed out of her shared home with darren and ca$h (their fake moans and tips for safe sex following her) and started up her borrowed car from robert.

when she drove up to ants place, he was sat outside, waiting already. harper couldn't fight the grin that stretched across her face as he wandered over to the passenger side. anthony had taken the concept of axe throwing and lumberjacks very seriously, and had dressed for the part - a plaid button up tossed, un-buttoned, over a cropped white tank top and a pair of baggy jeans.

he got in and immediately leant forward to kiss the blonde, and she pulled away with a smirk. "what's with the gay lumberjack cosplay?"

"i'm breaking lumberjack stereotypes, harps. be happy for me." but he glanced at her with a lazy grin and she shook her head, trying not to get distracted.

as they drove, ant insisted on being on aux. this meant that when spider called him, the audio was put on speaker.

"heya, spider."

"ant, you'll never-"

"hey spider!" harper piped up chirpily, and spiders whole demeanour over the phone changed.

"fuck off, harper."

"wait until i tell missy what you just said, dickhead. don't think i won't steal your girl." harper grinned as she said it, and ant turned to her quickly.

"hey!"

"you wish, harps."

---

"i actually don't think we need to throw axes," ant stood stiffly, his gloves shoved in his pocket and axe in one hand.

harper, who was in the middle of putting her safety glasses on, paused and stared. "what?"

"i just like- don't feel like losing an arm today. ya' know?" he looked at her hopefully, and harper raised a brow.

"don't worry, baby. i'll protect you."

the nickname flicked a switch in his mind, and immediately, ant was back to his usual antics. "no need, m'lady. i will be protecting you."

glasses on, harper turned to stick her tongue out at him - only to be met with the flash of a camera. "ew, ant. i look proper munted with these on. delete that."

he didn't respond, and to be fair, she didn't really care all that much anyways. the two walked forward with their safety gear fully on, prepared to let out some of their anger.

at first, they mess around a bit, until harper finally gets her axe to actually hit the target. from then on, it's a full-on war - they're making up mini competitions, tallying points, and getting into arguments.

halfway through, harper's got 12,368 points while ant has -12.

"we should totally turn our competition into a drinking game, harps. it would be so fun."

"and dangerous." harper braces herself and launches her axe at the target. "ant, we suck balls right now - imagine what it'd be like if everyone was drunk?"

"oh. ohhhhhhhh! yeah, i didn't even think of that."

"of course you didn't, babe."

ant grabs harper and yanks her closer to him, hugging her. some employee chides them for being dangerous.

"you're so pretty, harper." he's looking down at her, grinning, harpers cheeks are pink.

"you're not so bad yourself, anthony." her hand wraps around the back of his neck and pulls him closer.

---

"i cannot believe that we seriously got kicked out for making out!" harper exclaims in the car, pulling out of the parking lot.

"it was totally worth it." ant's still dazed, and he fumbles plugging his phone in.

it goes silent except for the frank ocean playing in the background, until ants phone buzzes with a notification. on instinct, harper's eyes flick to the screen - and her heart jolts.

his lock screen is a recent picture - one of harper, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched. her tongues poking out and her hairs a little wild, but she looks happy.

"ant! is that the picture you just took of me?"

"of course it is. can't get it out of my head, it's seriously driving me crazy." he looks down at the picture, a slight blush on his face.

"you just wait until i get a new picture of you, vaughn."

---

[mia-maybank]

Heartbreak high fic (Ant x OC)

I'm publishing an Anthony Vaughn x OC fanfic on wattpad because there isn't enough fanfiction for the heartbreak high fandom! If anyone wants to check it out my wattpad is 'tomholltnd'.

[woodandwaxwings]

Guide

if there's no link then I haven't written a fic for this fandom yet, feel free to request. Male and gender neutral reader only and I will write semi-nsfw now but nothing further than that. crossed out I no longer write for.

The Walking Dead Carl Grimes, Michonne, Ricky dicky doo da Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Glenn Rhee, Tyreese Williams (More to add bc I haven't finished the show yet)

The 100 Bellamy Blake, Monty Greene, Clarke Griffin, Octavia Blake, King Roan, John Murphy, Raven Reyes

Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children Victor Bruntley, Fiona Frauenfeld, Hugh Apiston Bronwyn Bruntley, Emma Bloom, Jacob Portman

It(2017) All of the Losers club

Alice In Borderland Kiuna Hikari, Chishiya Shuntarou, Arishu Ryohei, Ann Rizuna, Tatta Kōdai

Once Upon A Time Peter Pan, Felix, Henry Mills, Regina Mills, Emma Swan

Marauders Era (Harry Potter) Regulus Black, Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Marlene, Dorcas

Heartbreak High Anthony Vaughn, Spencer White, Malakai Mitchell, (more to be added)

The Order

One Piece (Live Action) Luffy D. Monkey, Sanji Vinsmoke

Dead Boy Detectives Charles Rowland, Edwin Payne, Niko, Monty

Lockwood and CO George Karim, Lucy Carlyle

My Babysitter's a Vampire

sarah rq

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