#...billie's talking

ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ 𝗑 ᴘʀᴇᴘ ɢɪʀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

how they met ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

—if prep girl reader goes to a private school, and matt goes to a shitty public school, how did they meet?

—warnings: use of y / n, half proofread half not idk , swearing

you weren't supposed to meet—your worlds weren't supposed to cross paths.

you were the pretty, popular rich girl on the nice side of town. he was the loner, poor boy on the complete other side. you two were polar opposites, more, if it was possible.

you went to the fancy private school in the middle of the small town in Boston, he went to the rundown public school that wasn't exactly known for having the best students, or the best test scores.

6 am. you get a call from one of your best friends as you're doing your makeup for the day.

you don't remember much from the phone call, as you were half asleep and still working on prepping your face.

"hey, wanna hit up the skatepark before class with me?"

it was a random question. you never went to the skatepark. couldn't be caught dead on that side of town, especially with your reputation.

sure, you thought the skaters were cool. but the main skatepark was on the poor side of town, the side where any girl like you would be made fun of by peers if she even stepped foot there.

you went anyway. you knew you didn't have a valid reason to be there, but why the hell not?

the chilly Boston air stung the skin on your cheeks, causing a light pink cast over your face. your school uniform wasn't doing much to protect your body from the cold, making a shiver ignite throughout your body.

you hesitantly sat down on one of the concrete ramps, silently observing as your friend skated around. your eyes soon landed on another person that was there. you didn't recognize him. all you noticed when you looked at him was his raggedy clothes and his messy brown hair peeking from his hood.

your brows furrowed as you watched him. you noticed the way he looked toward you, obviously getting distracted. though, you didn't look away, practically zoning out as you stared at him.

matt, however, was too distracted to realize where his skateboard was going. soon enough, he ran into one of the ramps, tripping and almost falling down on his ass.

you snapped out of it as you realized how he ran into the wall. your eyes widened, wanting to speak up and say something. though, your thoughts were rudely interrupted by your friend skating over to you again.

"hey, y/n, come back to earth for a second," she said, waving a hand in front of your face, "you think he's cute?" she asked, sitting down next to you.

"what?" you said, your gaze snapping over to her. "no, i don't,"

"obviously you do, if you keep staring at him." she scoffed. "go talk to him." she smirked.

"what? no! are you crazy?!" you whisper yelled.

"hey!" your friend called out to matt mid giggle, "she wants to talk to you!!" she exclaimed.

matt's gaze snapped over to you and your friend, his brows furrowing.

your face flushed even more. you sighed before you stood up, deciding to accept your fate. not like you could go back anymore.

"uh..hey," you said, more awkward than ever.

"hi," he mumbled quietly in response.

"what's your name? i'm y/n—"

"i'm matt," he blurted out too soon.

'yeah, definitely a social reject,' you thought to yourself.

"sorry," he soon apologized.

"you nervous?" you asked quietly, tilting your head as such of a curious puppy.

"no..?" he lied.

"it's okay, uh..same," you muttered. "i really gotta go though..i'll see you around," you rushed, turning back to your friend to grab your school bag and leave.

matt stood there, confused and stunned. why did a pretty girl like you, who's obviously rich, want to talk to him? did she even want to talk to him?

he watched you walk away, half with awe and half confusion.

"who the hell.." he trailed off, mumbling under his breath.

billie's afterword - so cool so cute and so girlboss

line divider : @/hyuneskkami

— ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ

17 , year twelve , 'i know it's over' - jeff buckley , hopeless , daydreamer , "i love you, im sorry." , skateboarding , quiet , eye bags , sentimental , crybaby , loner , 'me vs. your friends' - the flat stanleys , apologetic .

— ᴘʀᴇᴘ ɢɪʀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

16 , year twelve , 'spotless' - zach bryan , academic overachiever , masking , daughter of the rich family , insecure , clingy , talkative , shuts down often , popular , cinnamon & vanilla , 'family feud' - FINNEAS , chronically online .

ᝰ.ᐟ.ᐟ disclaimer - reader has no face claim ! want to get that out of the way first. second ! this series / au will contain sensitive topics on mental health, mentions of suicide and drugs, so i want to put that as a warning. of course, warnings for specific chapters will be labeled in the right time. thank you!

lace divider - @cursed-carmine

line dividers - @hyuneskkami

— 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗌

20 , boston , criminology major , yearner , 'something, somehow, someday' - role model , jealous , chronically offline , lover boy , do not disturb 24/7 , given up on love , 'lover, you should've come over' - jeff buckley , joybait .

— 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

19 , portland, maine , vlogger , yolo , 'teenage dream' - olivia rodrigo , pinterest warrior , music lvr , chronically online , forgetful , mirror selfies , 'forlorn' - fencemoth , fall enthusiast , journaling , oversharer .

.ᐟ.ᐟ disclaimer: reader has no face claim + au will contain sensitive topics

—for those who care - comment 📸 to be added to the taglist

—5 years, 7 months and two weeks.

—summary: chris finds readers instagram account, which results in him reminiscing about the past.

—warnings: not proofread (I don't proofread u guys), swearing, crying, mentions of isolation and loneliness :cc

this is short bc idk what to write for them rn

you seemed happier. always with friends, posting constantly.

chris, on the other hand, had been counting the days, weeks, months, years—since he had last saw you. it was depressing, really.

he was stuck thinking about someone who probably didn't even remember he existed. it hurt, and he constantly felt that weight in his heart because of it.

as he lie in bed and scroll through your instagram posts, his mind trailed off elsewhere.

he thought about the times you two would run around at the park down the block, playing tag, or just doing whatever kids did.

he paused when he found one specific post.

a post with your friends. your best friends. tears welled up in the corners of his eyes, though he tried to push them down for his own sake.

he couldn't take it anymore. none of the bullshit that he was supposed to keep to himself, to just try and force down the memories as much as possible. no, he was going to get back to you, whether you liked it or not.

his thumb tapped the follow button, though he knew it wouldn't be enough. he scrolled back to the top of your profile, hitting the message button.

'hey, it's been a while.'

was all he sent.

risky? yeah, of course. did he care? kinda, yeah.

hours passed by without a response. what the hell was he thinking? you were probably busy all the time now, with your new flashy lifestyle or whatever. he scoffed to himself, typing out another message.

'like, years, a while.'

his excitement rose tremendously as he saw your typing bubbles appear on the screen. his shoulders sank again as he read your reply.

'ig it has'

he had expected you to be more excited, he supposed. maybe a follow back. maybe more. maybe planning a hangout.

but no. just an, 'i guess'. he mentally slapped himself for assuming you'd reply with anything greater. from the looks of it, you had been hella busy with...God knows what.

he wanted to throw his phone. but he also knew he couldn't be mad at you. he hadn't reached out in over five years, what the hell would you want to do with him? he scoffed to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose.

bils sweethearts - @oopsiedaisydeer @delilahsturniolo @fakelaceyy @angelysturns @privatelyowned-t

ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ & ᴘʀᴇᴘ ɢɪʀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

prep girl readers situation₊˚⊹ᰔ

—how did the pretty, popular girl grow up?

—warnings : barely proofread, swearing, sensitive topics (drugs, suicide, sh mentions)

au nav. here

pretty, popular, rich. those are all words you had grown used to hearing as you grew up. some from your fathers coworkers, your mothers friends, or maybe just random people at school.

you hated it. you hated being treated differently just because of the way the cards were dealt. of course, you were thankful you were fortunate, but it still got on your nerves.

you had your close friends, and of course acquaintances, and the people who thought they were your friend, and the people who hated you for no reason. you were never alone, even though it often felt like it.

you couldn't speak up to say that you were struggling. it felt like attention seeking.

what could the pretty, popular girl possibly be struggling with? not having the right colour mercedes? her weekly allowance going down by five dollars?

you hated it. you hated being restricted to your thoughts just because of the life your parents forced you to have.

sure, you had your ways of coping. taking pills until you couldn't think straight, almost drowning yourself in the bathtub every night—you stopped that one recently. that was too scary. though, the scars that littered the tops of your thighs were evidence that you hadn't stopped hating yourself completely.

your mom was constantly freaking out over the house not looking clean enough, you and your brothers not looking good enough, her teeth not straight enough. but every time you were alone, you found yourself asking,

'why does it even matter?'

your dad was rarely home, dealing with meetings, other work events, or out drinking with his coworkers.

your room felt dull, though it was full of memories from pictures and other media. you hated complaining, not wanting to feel whiny or weak. but at the same time, you wished someone, anyone would pull you back up to the surface, to save you from drowning.

billie's afterword: does this feel rushed? kinda. so what?

⋮ ⌗ bils sweethearts💌 - @randomgirlwithanobsessiob @fakelaceyy

line dividers - @/hyuneskkami

ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ & ᴘʀᴇᴘ ɢɪʀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

matt's situation ֶָ֢⊹𐙚

—how bad is matt's life?

—warnings - barely proofread ,cursing, mentions of drugs, alcohol and abuse (verbal and physical).

—ᝰ.ᐟ.ᐟdisclaimer- contains sensitive topics + nick and chris don't exist in this au :)

growing up on a sketchy side of town wasn't for the weak. constantly hearing distant yelling, mistaking gunshots for fireworks or vice vera. he often heard car alarms, either faulty or an actual robbery.

though, matt had learned how to tune it out. well, he learned how to distract himself with other things. for example, the constant smell of cigarettes that lingered on his clothes due to his mothers smoking. or the fact that his grades kept dropping and he couldn't do anything about it. or the way his mother was practically bipolar.

he had plenty of issues to distract himself with, and he was no stranger to the fact.

since middle school—well, he couldn't remember exactly when, but—since his dad left, his life turned to shit. his mother lost her mind, not being able to choose between happy, sad, angry or neutral. it was exhausting, to say the least.

matt didn't have to deal with her often. she worked two jobs just to keep them stable, pay the bills. the few times he did see her, though, it was like he was talking to a whole different person every time.

one day she'd be happy to talk to her son, compliment him and plan all these fun things. the next, well..maybe she was stressed out, and didn't know how to handle it. that's how matt brushed off the hurtful remarks, the yelling, the insults.

every day, however, school felt like it'd never end. matt only had one person he could call a 'friend', all to hell if they ever got close. he was in the sidelines, always. he wasn't important, he wasn't in any sports, or extracurriculars. maybe occasionally he'd get someone asking for homework answers, but even that wasn't a thing that happened often.

he didn't want to call himself depressed. he didn't want to say he had anything he didn't have a diagnosis for. his mother had always considered things like that attention seeking.

he didn't want attention. he wanted help.

billie's afterword - okay boom working on prep girl readers life rn. to the person who asked for a tag, it's not letting me🤦‍♀️

line divider : @/hyuneskkami

ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛ & ᴘʀᴇᴘ ɢɪʀʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

—summary: during prep girl readers school day, she's unable to stop thinking about the interaction she had with matt earlier that morning.

—warnings: barely proofread, use of y/n, swearing, suggestive comments, barely detailed forced make out session

—check out their interaction before you read this one!

"are you sure you're not into him?" your friend asked as you both stepped into the school gates.

you scoffed as you heard her question.

"yes, i'm sure im not into him," you trailed off. "i don't even know him...plus, you know im talking to someone right now." you tried to defend yourself.

"ohh, yeah, that man-whore of a boyfriend you have," she scoffed back.

"he's not my boyfriend." you snapped, "and he's not a man-whore."

"not your boyfriend, yet you ditched us to go hangout with him at lunch..." she trailed off, picking her next words wisely. "and hookup with him in the bathroom," she finally finished.

"shut up!" you exclaimed, pushing her shoulder. you could feel your face heating up. "we—i—we didn't hookup in the bathroom, what is wrong with you?!" you stumbled over your words.

"that's why you're bright red." your friend smirked. "and, how come your clothes and hair were all messed up if you didn't hook up? what happened there, huh, y/n?" she continued pushing.

"shut up, okay!?" you exclaimed once more. "fine, we did. once. now stop talking about him, he's not my boyfriend."

"fine, fine." she shook her head amusedly.

coincidentally, the boy you and your friend had been talking about had started to walk over. you groaned quietly as you noticed his face.

your friends smirk widened. "go get 'em, tiger," she teased before she walked off.

you rolled your eyes before you were rudely interrupted by the boy.

"hey, y/n," he winked sarcastically, "what's that all about?" he asked, tilting his head as if he were a confused puppy.

"d-don't worry about it.." you mumbled back in reply.

"got it..." he nodded. "come on, i'll walk you to class. maybe take a quick pitstop to the bathrooms to really say i missed you,"

you sighed, rolling your eyes as you heard his words. of course, you didn't want to 'make a pitstop to the bathroom', since your mind was elsewhere, but what say did you have then?

"right, okay," you muttered anyway.

"oh, come on, stop being a buzzkill." he scoffed.

"i'm not being a buzzkill!" you argued.

"sure you aren't," he said as he dragged you into the empty bathroom. his lips found your neck, placing a few kisses there. "gotta lighten up a little," he mumbled against your neck.

you sighed, placing your hands on his shoulders. you knew you didn't want this, but you weren't going to just push him away immediately.

his rough kisses trailed up your neck, reaching your jaw. you could feel him leave a few light hickeys, but that was before you spoke up.

"stop, i don't want marks.." you said quietly.

"fine," he scoffed quietly, pulling away from your neck. his lips soon found yours, and he obviously couldn't tell you weren't into it.

your hands on his shoulders pushed him lightly. "get off of me," you said quietly, your voice barely audible with both of the sounds your breathing.

as he continued kissing you, you pushed him harder. "get off of me!" you finally exclaimed.

that got him to snap out of it. he pulled away, his brows furrowing.

"what's your problem, y/n?"

"my problem is that you're not listening to me!" you exclaimed, your hands shoving him either further.

you slipped out of his grasp, leaving the bathroom the same way you came in.

"y/n, wait!" he practically shouted. "what's wrong? talk to me, come on!" he followed right behind you.

"i don't want this!" you shouted back. "i'm done! stay away from me, okay?!" you said before you rushed to your first class.

you couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as you sat down in your seat. though, that relief was short lived when your mind went back to matt.

who was he? why did he look so tired?

'why am i focusing on him when i know he's from the poor side of town?' your mind soon asked.

you mentally berated yourself for the thought. money didn't matter. not with a guy like him, definitely not.

you then asked yourself why you acted like that towards someone who helped your mood a fuck-ton. it was unnecessary. he didn't do anything wrong.

did he?

no, he did. you told yourself. he forced himself onto me.

or maybe that's what you were telling yourself because you now cared about a random boy more than your boyfriend.

billie's afterword - okay i started this on the seventh but uh once again #procrastinating

line divider- @/hyuneskkami