#i am violently muttering bubbles into my keyboard right now

[trashbaget]

i’ve just opened google drive, and good god, bestie, i hate what you’ve done with the place

[asteriismos]

Hold Me Tight or Don’t -- Bill Denbrough

Warning(s) : athletic! bill, SMUT, angst, sexual tension, enemies to lovers, slight choking if you squint

Authors Note : It’s my first time writing in a v long time so hopefully all the dust is brushed off my keyboard lol. Requests are open! I do smut, fluff, angst, imagines, short blurbs, head canons, etc. I also write for every character. Also, the reader and bill are seventeen here in their senior year of high school ok ok so don’t COME FOR ME

Songs to Listen to : Hold Me Tight or Don’t -- Fall Out Boy, Bitch -- Allie X, Often -- The Weeknd

If there is one thing that you knew for certain, it’s that you absolutely loathed Bill Denbrough.

It wasn’t just a small ‘that guy is a jerk’ or ‘I wouldn’t hang out with him outside of school’ kind of thing. No, it was a ‘I would literally pay to see his car burn, no scratch that, I would pay to burn his car’ kind of thing. To you there wasn’t a redeemable quality about him at all, your life would be just fine if he didn’t even exist.

The frustrating thing was that Bill’s mother and your mother were best friends, they have been since they were in high school. Meaning that when they found out they were pregnant at the same time, they vowed to make their babies almost like siblings. Bill and you have been hanging out since you were three days old. At first it was fine, you two seemed to get along just fine for a boy and a girl.

That was until both of you were entering first grade. The two of you were walking to the front door of the Elementary School and he pushed you out of the way, yelling at you that you were ‘in his way’ and that you were ‘a stupid girl.’ It was totally uncalled for, your six year old self cried for days on end because of your seemingly best friends rude behavior. You vowed that you would hate him, that he was the stupid one. But you didn’t want to disappoint your mother, neither did he. So you two secretly began hating each other, only playing nice when your families were around.

That started in first grade, and it was now your senior year of high school where nothing has really changed. Both of you did your own separate things in school. You were part of the student body and was a cheerleader, while he played football, lacrosse, and his personal favorite, baseball. You two still played nice around your families, always giving fake smiles towards each other whenever your mothers wanted to have dinner together. What made it even worse was that now both of your fathers were best friends too, meaning in the summer there were barbecues and ‘family baseball games.’ You always chose to sit out, considering sports were definitely not your thing. Bill called you an array of names like ‘buzzkill’ and ‘sour puss’ for never joining in, not that you cared anyways. You would spit out nicknames right back at him.

It seemed like nothing was going to ever bring you two together.

It was the middle of spring, your senior year. You had been busy sending in college applications for a whole two weeks now, while also juggling your cheer practices and your performances during lacrosse games. The same lacrosse games that Bill always seemed to win for the team. You felt your teeth clench every time someone would mention how perfect Bill was to her. There was nothing worse than an enemy that was constantly trying to one up you, though you had the upper hand in academics at the moment, considering you had a solid A in AP Biology and Bill was sitting with a B+. The terrible thing was that your parents didn't even seem to see that you were better than him, they always continued to praise Bill.

That’s what was happening right now at the dinner table. It was a Friday evening right after the lacrosse game. Bill was still wearing his jersey and you were still sporting your cheerleading uniform. You could've gone up to your room and changed, considering all of you were dining at your house this week, but you were too hungry to even change. Doing kicks and flips were good calorie burners, you had to admit.

“You completely swept that game, Bill,” your mother swooned, passing over the bowl of pasta to your rival. You tried not to physically gag. “You have a really good shot at getting a scholarship to California with the way that you play.”

Of course, your parents could talk to Bill about college, but when you brought it up they would just tell you that they would talk to you about it another day.

“Thank you, Mrs. (Y/L/N),” Bill replied, turning his gaze towards you. He could sense that you wanted to vomit with all the mushy gushy comments towards him, and let me tell you, he was eating it up. He loved to see you annoyed, he enjoyed it more than he probably should. “And must I say, this dinner is great. One of my favorites.”

You snorted so violently that you began to cough on the salad you were eating. Everyone at the table reverted their attention to you, now trying to get oxygen back into your lungs after your coughing fit.

“Is something wrong there, (Y/N)?” Bill asked, pretending to be worried for your well being. He raised an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. Instead of spitting some sort of insult at his face, you composed yourself and stood up, quickly mumbling that you needed to be excused so you could go start your homework. Your mother looked a little confused, but nodded her head and said that that was fine with her.

Once you were upstairs in your room, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You were definitely not a six year old girl anymore. Your slightly chubby baby fat legs had been replaced with long, muscular ones from all of the conditioning in cheer. Your face had gotten slimmer and you replaced your glasses with contacts in the seventh grade. You had to admit, you got hot.

You were just about to raise up your top when the door opened, Bill walking inside your room like he owned the place. Sure, he had been to your house and in your room many times over the years, but that didn’t mean that he could just waltz in here. You had been changing, and you knew that if he had seen anything, he would’ve given you shit about it until the day you died.

“Jesus, do you know how to knock, or does your jock brain not know decent manners?” You spat towards him, turning around to get the embarrassed blush off your face. You heard him close the door and walk farther into your room. “I was just about to change.” You turned around to face him.

Bill scoffed, his eyes rolling as he looked towards you. “Oh please, it’s not like you would’ve minded. Any girl would love to have me walk in on them changing. And I know for a fact that you’re not excluded from the mix, (Y/N),” he replied snarkily.

You couldn’t believe the things that came out of his mouth half the time. The fucking prick.

“In case you haven't noticed, Bill, I’m not pretending to hate you because I secretly like you. I actually, genuinely hate your guts,” you stated.

“You’re such a prude.”

“I am not!”

“Yes you are. Name one party that you’ve gone to this year. That’s right, you can’t-” you opened your mind to try and intrude but he didn't let you, saying,”- and you can’t give me that ‘I haven’t been invited’ bullshit. I know for a fact that you have. Hell, you’re part of the cheerleader squad. I even know that Beverly has tried to get you to at least three parties this month.”

So what? You thought to yourself. Why did Bill even care. It’s not like if you were there he would talk to you anyways. He was just trying to get under your skin.

“What’s your point, Denbrough? Keeping tabs on me now? I’m flattered,” you didn’t even meet his gaze, instead you just walked to sit down at your desk, beginning to take your textbooks out of your overfilling backpack. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re not friends. You’ve made that really clear over the years.”

He grabbed the seat you were sitting on and spun it to face him. His face was dangerously close to yours, you could feel the hot air he breathed out on your face. You licked your lips out of habit, and you could've sworn for a moment that his eyes glanced down at them, until they were back to meeting your own. You wanted to kick him away from you, but the way that he was looking at you was enough to keep you still in your seat.

“My point is,” Bill whispered. “That Richie is throwing a party tomorrow night and to prove that you’re not a prude, go to it. Simple.”

You wanted to tell him no, that you were not in the right mood to go to a party, especially when you had college stuff to do. You had a feeling that Bill wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so for some stupid reason, you muttered a quiet ‘fine.’

Bill grinned, nodding his head.

His mother called for him so that they could leave, and suddenly he was out of your room and outside of your house. You still sat there, a dumbfounded look on your face. And all you could think about was how hot your skin felt against your suddenly tight cheer uniform.

-- The Next Day --

“Come on, (Y/N). Please just get out of the car,” Beverly begged, opening the passengers door of her car where you were seated, her hands pulling you out of her car. You two were outside Richie’s house, late by a good half hour because you threw a fit about what you were even supposed to wear to this party. At this point Bill probably assumed that you weren't going to show up, there were most likely voicemails on your phones answering machine calling you a prude about fifty million times.

This was going to be a big ‘fuck you’ in his face.

Finally, with the help of Stan and Eddie, Beverly got you out of her car and walking to the entrance of the crazy party. You were dressed in a black tank top with checkered shorts and belt, your hair up in a high ponytail so it wouldn’t get in your way when you danced. Once you entered the house you looked around for Bill, butterflies entering your stomach for no apparent reason. You punched yourself in the stomach slightly, wondering why the hell your body was reacting the way it was.

You walked into the kitchen with Bev and saw Bill with Richie, doing what seemed to be shots. Bill finished his line and saw you, a grin the size of Jupiter appearing on his face.

“You two are unbelievable sometimes,” Bev said to Bill and Richie once they walked towards you and her. Richie was obviously fucked up, not just on alcohol but definitely weed as well. You could practically sense the great hangover that awaited him in the morning.

“Oh come on, Bev. You know for a fact that you’re going to be just as bad as Richie in an hour or so,” Bill stated in a matter of fact tone. The music was booming so loud that it was hard to even understand him. You looked at his lips to try and make out the next words he was speaking, but that action caught his attention, he quickly looked towards you with the same smirk he had on in your room just last night. “You should take some pointers from her, (Y/N), she knows how to party, unlike you.”

You were about to swing, you truly were. You were so fed up by his snarky remarks towards you and this was the greatest opportunity to jump him. There were no parents, no teachers, no one even remotely able to pull you off of him once you were there. However, Beverly could sense the tension and quickly spun you away, screaming over the music, “Cool, thanks Bill! We’re going to go dance now.”

She whispered in your ear, “You’re going to get yourself in so much trouble someday when I’m not here. Now, come on. Try to enjoy yourself.”

The next twenty minutes were dedicated to Bev and you dancing. At some point Stan and Mike joined in and suddenly all of you two were laughing and giggling at the stupid dance moves you were all making up. You had to admit, you were having a good time. Finally you could feel yourself let go of all of that rage you had all day and hang out with your closest friends. You forgot that Bill was even there.

That was, until you and Stan started jokingly grinding on each other and you felt a pull on your arm. The force was so strong that you were pulled into the arms of whoever had taken you away from your friends.

“What the fuck, get off of me, creep!” You yelled, turning around to see who the person you were about to sock in the eye was. And much to your annoyance, it was Bill. “Can’t you just leave me alone for one day? First you invite me to this fucking party, and now you won’t even let me party.” He was becoming more of a significant annoyance by the second.

“Come with me, (Y/N).”

“No, what the fuck?”

“I need to talk to you, come on,” he grabbed your hand and pulled your out of the crowd and into the first empty room that he could find. It was Richies parents room, clean and very big. It was surprising that no one had come in here yet to mess it all up.

Bill shut the door behind both of you and looked down at you, you who was now fuming with anger.

“Now that you have me trapped in here, Bill. What the fuck do you want with me?” You yelled, the odds of someone hearing was slim, considering the loud ass music in the background and the sounds of teenagers yelling over it.

“You. You and Stanley? Really (Y/N)?” He asked. “You two can't be together.”

You laughed, genuinely laughed at how stupid he sounded. “Stan and I were just messing around. Since when are you allowed to tell me who I can and can’t dance with? You’re not my fucking babysitter. You’re not my boyfriend.”

Bill got closer and closer to you, his gaze never leaving your own. He laughed, “You know, you’re so aggravating. You never can go one second without insulting me.”

“Says you! You’re not much better. Don’t act like you’re on some high horse, like you’re the victim.” He was so fucking unbelievable.

And suddenly, without any warning, Bill was pressing his lips against your own. You were so shocked that you jumped away, your eyes widening at the sudden contact. What the fuck was happening? Why was Bill kissing you?

And why did you kind of really like it?

You grabbed his face and kissed him again, your body clashing right into his. The reverb of the bass in the song playing outside seemed to set the hot and heavy mood that suddenly came into the room. Bill’s hands didn't hesitate to come to the small of your back, his body engulfing you. He was taller than you and no doubt stronger, so when he started walking towards the bed, leading you as you walked backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Both of you fell onto the bed, him falling onto you, the hotness of your contact almost burning your fingertips. He stopped kissing your lips and instead began to kiss down your jawline, down to the nape of your neck but stopping at the beginnings of your tank top. Bill looked up at you suggestively and you had to stop yourself from groaning, of course he was going to fucking tease you, of course.

“You can take it off, you know,” You said finally, lifting the hem of your tank top to help him get started. He laughed, saying, “Damn, pushy much?”

He was such a dick, even in this position that both of you were in. But instead of feeling hate towards his snarky remark, you felt lust. Cockiness never looked better on the Denbrough boy.

He pulled up your tank top to reveal your breasts, and his mouth and hands got to work right away. He licked and sucked, then repeated the process until you were a sputtering mess, your cheeks flaring up at the thought of someone you’ve known since childhood seeing you in such a vulnerable position.

“You know, (Y/N), you actually aren't that bad in this position,” Bill mumbled across your skin, going lower down your stomach and looking up at you to see your reaction. You didn't want to moan, because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of the fact that he was pleasuring you. But you couldn't help yourself, you were a moaning mess. Your hands helped his own with your belt buckle and the zipper of your jeans. You quickly pulled them off and threw them god knows where, watching him pull down your black panties. He came up from in between your legs and kissed you again, one finger suddenly entering inside you. You moaned into his mouth, spewing out a few curse words here and there when he entered another finger, and then another one.

He made marks on your collarbone, on your neck, everywhere that he could mark you he did. His fingers never stopping the constant in and out motion. Bill, the person you absolutely hated, was making you come undone like it was nothing.

You had closed your eyes, your hands going into his hair and pulling when he did something that you liked. But the motion stopped, his fingers came out and never re entered. You wined a little bit, until feeling hot breath against your heat.

“Oh,” you said out loud. He chuckled before diving in, his tongue licking against your clit. The immense wave of pleasure you felt was over you made you almost scream out. He continued this while one hand came up to play with your breasts while the other one entered you again with two fingers. With the amount of pressure he was putting in his motions, you knew you weren't going to last very long. He must’ve known this too, because when your moans got higher and more frequent, he said in a deep voice, “come undone for me, baby.”

And you did. You were a moaning mess, and his tongue was quick to lick up all of you before coming up, looking at the toll that he has done to you so far. You opened up your eyes to meet his own and gave him a confused look. Was he going to continue? Or leave you there to deal with the mess he made of you by yourself?

“You’re still fully clothed, this is no fair,” you muttered, pulling at his blue shirt. Bill only laughed, pulling off his shirt to reveal his abs. You really didn't want to admit it, but Bill was ripped. All those sports seemed to be paying off . . .

“Are you going to stare all day or do you want me to fuck you?” Bill asked, his tone darker and darker than it usually was. You nodded, watching him take off the rest of his clothing. Both of you sat there looking at each other before you began to laugh for no real reason.

“Is this funny or something?” Bill asked, an eyebrow popping up.

“No, it’s just that you and I have known each other since birth, and now we’re about to fuck,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. He himself laughed a small bit before laying his body on top of your own, slamming into you with no hesitation. All your previous thoughts washed away in an instant and you were in a world of ecstasy.

Bill was rather large, larger than you had ever had before. So it took you a moment to adjust to him and finally feel the pleasure of having him inside of you. Your hands went to his shoulders and surprisingly his went to your neck, pinning you down so that you couldn't move. It caught you off guard at first, but you realized that it was super hot to have his muscular hands around your small, delicate neck. You moaned out loudly as you got closer and closer to your high.

“You like that, don’t you?” Bill asked in a cocky tone. “My hands on your neck, controlling you. Who knew you were so kinky?”

You hated to admit that you liked what he was saying.

The quick pace he was going at drew you closer and closer, until you were seeing stars and coming undone under Bill for the second time. He was quick to follow, orgasming and then laying down on top of you. The room smelled of sex, hot and sweaty sex.

You and Bill had hot sex. The thought didn’t even feel real.

Your bodies were almost glued to each other from the sweat, until Bill peeled off you and stood up, looking for his clothing that had been strewn around the room. You were quick to follow, finding your shirt, belt, and shorts. Your underwear had landed on top of the mirror, and as you went to go grab them, you looked at yourself in the mirror. There were marks everywhere on your body. They were on your neck, jawline, collarbone, breasts, and stomach. There were probably more in between your legs as well. Grabbing the underwear, you finally got dressed and tried to make yourself look semi presentable, despite the obvious hickies you couldn't hide with your previous choice in attire for the evening. You stood behind Bill as he went to open the door, however he stopped and turned to look at you, his lips nearing your ear, saying,

“You know (Y/N), you may be a bitch. But you’re sweet, where it counts.”

And with that he was off into the crowd, you lost him within seconds with all the people.

That dick, you thought to yourself, I can’t believe he just left.

You would get him back for that, you just didn't quite know how just yet.

[clairecrive]

Let’s stay home| Quarantine AU

A/N: I know it’s been ages since I’ve updated this story, sorry guys. I don’t even know what this is but someone asked for Bronson so here it is. I’ve decided that I’m going to finish up and edit what I already have for this story, 4 or 5 chapters, and then end it. So, yeah. Anyways, hope you enjoy this!

Tag list: @evelynshelby​, @mollybegger-blog​, @br0ck-eddie​, @of-love-and-of-the-sea​, @deaflikehawkeye​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @fandom--0verdose​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @sopxhiea​, @fuseburner​

Chapter 6 - “Bronson”

Emma was laying in her precious bathtub for some very much needed me time. Since lockdown started, she had found herself needed some kind of relief from dealing with this whole situation. Living together with the guys wasn’t proving to be too bad. She was actually happy that he had invited them over, if she had had to face this whole quarantine on her own she would have probably gone insane. Not that living with four men didn’t put her on edge but it was bearable. As long as she could carve out some time for herself, she would be fine. Sighing contently, she basked in being in the water while the comforting smell of lavender filled her nostrils. but of course, her peaceful moment was short-lived.

“Oi, have you drown in there or something?” Alfie’s voice and vigorous knock startled her and disrupted the moment.

 “This is my self-care bath, Alfie. What do you want?” But she won’t give it up easily if she could help it. 

“Yer what?”

“Stop shouting and get in Alfie. You’ll annoy the neighbours.” Keeping her eyes closed she tried her best to not get the vibe lost.

“Aren’t you naked?”

“I’m covered in bubbles, don’t worry. Not that you haven’t seen it already.” And as a matter of fact, she was covered in bubbles, her long hair covered her breasts and she gathered her knees close to her chest to prevent an embarrassing situation; but the truth was that Emma had always been comfortable with Alfie. Yes, even being half-naked in front of him when nothing sexual was happening didn't bother her. And since they had done this before, when Alfie sat on the toilet next to the tub, she didn’t feel embarrassed at all. He plopped down, groaning for his bad back and looked at her face.

“So what’s all this then?” His gruff tone made her smile lightly and even if she had her eyes closed she could imagine him gesturing at her questioningly.

“I told you, this is my self-care bath.” She repeated finally opening her eyes, finding him exactly as she foresaw.

“Didn’t know there were different kinds of baths.” He mumbled scratching his chin.

“This includes shaving and scrubs and other stuff that of course you wouldn’t know about.”

“Seems like you’re dolling up,” he pointed out looking at his feet but Emma could sense that there was something else he wanted to say so she waited, “is it ‘cause that guy is coming over?” and here it was. By now, Emma knew Alfie too well to not know when something was up. And yeah, the man was naturally grumpy but his behaviour these last few days was too much even for him. And knowing him, she should have known that he was going to eavesdrop her conversation with Bane.

“Did nobody tell you that it’s impolite to listen on to other people’s conversation?” She avoided his question and decided that it was better to make fun of him. His unruly beard could only cover so much of his face and luckily for her, it didn’t cover the redness of his cheeks.

“You were talking in the middle of the fucking sitting room, everyone heard you.” he scoffed.

“Well, that doesn’t explain why you’re so bothered by it though.” She promptly pointed out putting him on the spot.

“Who said I’m bothered?” He scoffed again but Emma could see right through him.

“You’ve been acting like a jealous boyfriend Alfie.” she pointed out even though she knew he’d never admit it.

“I ain’t.” He childishly muttered while crossing his arms on his chest.

“Sure you are. Now be a good boy and tell me why, will you?” She asked him patronizingly while adjusting her position in the tub so that she could better look at him.

“C’mon Alfie, you know that you can talk to me.” she insisted when he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just- I didn’t understand I was going to be stuck in a house with a bunch of your exes.” He complained

“None of you is my ex,” since Alfie gave her a look that called her on her bullshit so she continued, “Eddie is my best friend. He has an on-and-off relationship at the moment but there’s never been anything between us.”

“What about Tommy?”

“We’ve had sex but we were never together. Just like you and me.” Alfie flinched but Emma didn’t notice.

“So, yer supposed to spend a weekend of sex with him too?” He spat and Emma knew that he hadn’t liked her answer but couldn’t really understand why.

“We have never labelled our relationship as exclusive or official, Alfie.” Emma reckoned as a matter of factly.

“That’s not what I said, innit?”

“Well, then why I get the feeling that knowing about my sex life sets you off?”

“And Bane?”

“He’s one of my best buds too. Never seen him naked, unfortunately,” she mumbled the last part but Alfie did hear anyway and threw an ugly glare at her.

“Why are you so interested in my sex life anyway?” she asked raising an eyebrow

“I’m not. You can do whatever you want,” he said not taking into consideration how she could read him so easily. Dismissing her and their conversation, Alfie got up and went to get out of the bathroom.

“Wait, Alfie, what time is it?” her voice stopped him

“Almost 4, why?” He said checking the time on his watch.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m late,” momentarily forgetting about the man’s presence, Emma pulled the drain of the bath and started to get up.

“What? Have somewhere to be?” Was Alfie’s attempt at being funny.

“I have an interview in half an hour. Guess who I’m interviewing?” Ignoring his cheeky tone, Emma kept drying herself. She didn’t have time to spare.

“Some beauty blogger?” Again, another jab.

“Charlie Bronson, Alfie. I’m so excited,” but Emma was too hyped about this opportunity she had been given.

“Why are you excited to speak with England’s most violent prisoner?”

“Exactly for that very reason. I mean, I know nothing of psychology but he ought to make an interesting subject, don’t you think?” Now wrapped in a warm towel, she was ready to leave the bathroom.

“Be careful, Em,” Alfie called out behind her.

“You can assist if you want to,” She offered, knowing that he could sit in the interview and she could get away with it.

“Oh, I also have an appointment but thanks.” Not thinking anything about it, she simply waved at him and rushed to her room to get ready. The interview was in ten minutes.

So far, it was going good. Sure there had been some problem with her wifi, then with his but it was all part of the job, wasn’t it? Despite his menacing look and intimidating physique, Charlie Bronson was very talkative and friendly. Or maybe he just liked talking about himself and being under the spotlight.

“So, with this current situation, everyday life has changed for everyone. Has life in prison changed too?” Was your final question, the one you were most excited to ask.

“Well, visitors can’t come anymore and also police officers can’t touch us, the cunts.” Flying over his colourful language, Emma reflected on his answer. It was a side effect that she hadn’t thought about but it made sense.

“It sounds like this virus has made life in prison easier, or am I going too far in saying that?” 

“Yeah well, for me, it has and also for those people who have nowhere to go. It also helps us with police brutality.”

“Does it?”

“Of course. They’re the only ones that go out, aren’t they? So if one of us results positive to Covid then it means that it’s their fault, isn’t it?” Bronson points out with a raise of his eyebrow.

“That makes sense. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“No one really thinks about us.” The statement could have been filled with resentment but from his tone, it came out nothing more than a fact. However, Emma still felt a little guilty about it.

“Well, actually, there has been an uproar in Italy for this very reason. Families of inmates asked for their relatives to be released because they were not safe in prison. Do you agree?” Remembering an article she saw a couple of days ago, she thought it worth mentioning.

“Sounds like a desperate tentative to get them out. We’re as safe here as anywhere, if not safer.”

“So if you could, you wouldn’t want to leave prison?” Disbelief evident in her voice. Wouldn’t any inmate go back home given the chance?

“Why would I? Where would I even go?” But Bronson presented a fair point. Most of the lives of those who ended up in prison had always difficult stories behind them and in most cases, they don’t have a safety net to fall into.

“Well, I don’t know. Isn’t any place better than a cell?” Still, Emma thought, however difficult it may be to start again, wouldn’t it be ten times better than being in a cell?

“I’ve never understood people's disregard for prison. There’s nothing out there for me anyway.” Apparently, Bronson wasn’t of the same idea.

“If you’re fine and safe I guess it doesn’t matter where you are.” Not really convinced, Emma trying to meet him halfway.

“As lovely as it is to talk to you, my time is up. Gotta go.” Time had flown apparently because the hour the interview was supposed to last had already come to an end. It had been a conversation far more interesting than Emma had anticipated. Who would have thought. One should never judge a book by its cover, indeed.

“Thank you for speaking with me, Charlie. Stay safe,” saying her goodbyes she closed the zoom call. Staring at her desktop, she processed the whole conversation in her mind, the piece she had to write about it already forming in her mind. In order to avoid forgetting the words or losing inspiration, she immediately got to it. Typing away on her keyboard, words had never come to her as easily, she bashed in this sensation remembering why she loved her job so much.

[ardett]

What’s Promised

Description: Matt finds his way as time ticks down to his acceptance to the Garrison. 

OR a series of vignettes full of promises made and promises kept.

Author’s Note: Written for the @vldmattzine! 

I'm decently pleased with this fic and I was honored to be a part of this zine! The finished product was really beautiful and if you didn't get to grab a copy, please enjoy this!

As always, feel free to check it out on Ao3!

5.

Matt is five when Katie is born.

He’s small, his handprints miniature compared to his dad’s, and the kitchen counter still towers above him, but Katie is even smaller. And chubbier. He pokes her cheek a couple of times in the cradle before his mother gently reprimands him. She says he looked like this when he was born too, soft and round. He doesn’t know if he believes her.

“Ka-tie… Katie.” He tries her name out loud. She doesn’t look like a Katie. She just looks… pudgy. “Pi- Pudgy,” he pouts. His mother ruffles his hair and he squeaks, ducking away.

“Come on, Matthew, let Katie get some sleep.” She guides him towards the door.

“When are we going to be able to play together?” Matt glances back at the cradle where a contented gurgle sounds. He thought for sure he would at least get a playmate out of this, but she’s too tiny to do anything fun. She can’t even talk yet. All he’s heard so far is blubbery giggles and the occasional whine.

His mother laughs. “Not for a while, baby. Don’t hold your breath.”

The first time Matt holds Katie, he’s struck by how warm she is. She radiates her own bubble of heat. Their mother reminds him to support the head and he does as she nuzzles against him. Her tiny, pudgy fingers grasp at his clothes. There’s so much life in her, even as small as she is. Her eyes are big and blinking, her breaths a bit weezy, and ever so gently against his chest, he feels her heartbeat.

He smiles and thinks that even though he wanted a brother, a baby sister might be even better.

4.

Matt can recite his four times tables forwards and backwards.

He’s working on his times tables up to ten forwards and backwards now but he doesn’t have anyone to practice with. He tries to practice with a classmate during recess but the other boy just looks at him strangely. He says they’ve only learned up to three.

Matt asks his teacher about it later, while everyone is grabbing their coats from their cubbies.

“I want to make sure you’re being challenged, Matthew,” she says. “You should be learning new things in school. If you already know it, there’s no need to keep quizzing you on it.”

“But…” His brow scrunches. “But other people aren’t taking the same quiz I am?”

“There are a few kids in other classes taking the same quizzes as you. But it’s true, most of your peers aren’t.”

“But their quiz is easier. That’s not fair!” He pouts and wrinkles up his nose.

“It’s not easier for them. Multiplication is as hard for them as division is for you. Does that make sense, Matthew?”

“No,” he frowns.

“Hmm, tell you what.” His teacher jots something down on a piece of paper. “I’ll call your family later, okay? They’ll be able to explain it to you a little better than I can.”

“What?” Matt’s hands grips the edge of the desk. “But I didn’t do anything wrong! Why do you have to call my parents?”

The bell rings a second time and his teacher gets up from her desk to bring them out to their buses. “You’re not in trouble,” she says as she shoos him towards his coat. “I’m just going to discuss some things with your parents to make sure we’re all on the same page. Okay?”

Matt nods, even though he doesn’t really get it, and works on his division tables on the bus ride home to distract himself.

They do talk about it when Matt gets home.

“So your teacher called today, Matt,” his dad says, glancing up from where he cuts another piece of chicken.

Matt almost bursts into frustrated tears right there. Instead, he only stabs at his food and mutters, “I didn’t do anything.”

“Hey, buddy. We know you didn’t do anything.” His dad leans down to meet Matt’s downcast eyes and sticks out his tongue once they make eye contact. Matt laughs despite himself. “That’s not what this is about. So you wanted to know why you’ve been taking different tests than the other kids in your class, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Your brain just works a little bit differently than your classmates. Some things, like maybe math, come easier to you than other people.”

“Now,” his mom interjects. “That doesn’t mean anyone is less than you are. Everyone’s good at different things. Some kids might be really good at sports. Some kids are good at art. Being smart certainly isn’t anything to be ashamed of but remember that being kind is the most important thing you can be.”

“I know, mom,” Matt grumbles.

At the end of the year, the school asks Matt and his family if they want to accelerate him but, in all her kindergarten prowess, Katie protests, “No! I’m going to catch up! It’s not fair if Matt gets even more ahead.”

Matt agrees and Katie gives him a huge smile.

3.

Matt hasn’t slept in three days.

His computer is mocking him, cursor just blinking and blinking until the screen dims and he moves his mouse to wake it again. He’s only typed three new words. He has to write at least another paragraph tonight.

Why do you want to attend the Galaxy Garrison? the application reads.

He holds back a groan and leans back in his chair, rubbing at his burning eyes. He almost wants to write, my dad works here, you have to accept me, but he can’t be that obnoxious and pretentious. He really does want to attend the Garrison but putting it down in words is like prying out his ribs one by one. Awful.

Finally, he turns to his still unfinished math homework. At least that should come easy to him.

It doesn’t. He can’t even do math correctly. How could he ever think he had a chance at the Garrison? Even if he gets in, they’ll crush him.

The lead of his pencil snaps.

Matt growls through his teeth and clicks the top for more lead for almost a minute before realizing the mechanical pencil must have run out of graphite. He roots through his bag (too aggressively) and throws the case of extra lead on his desk. He rips off the cap (too violently) and sticks of lead scatter across the table’s surface and spill onto the floor.

This time, he actually does scream. He slams his head into the desk. There are footsteps in the hall and the creak of his door opening. He doesn’t look up.

“Matt? Are you doing alright, honey?” He screws his eyes shut as he feels his face heating up. “Matthew?”

���I’m fine,” he chokes out, and there is it, the first tear. When it becomes clear his mom isn’t going to leave, he lifts his head. He swipes at his eyes and mutters again, “I’m fine. You don’t have to stay.”

His mom walks closer. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been working on this for weeks now.”

“And it’s still not done, mom! I need to…” A frustrated snarl escapes him as more tears drip down his face. “I just need to finish this.”

He doesn’t resist as his mom leans down to hug him. It makes the tears come even faster until his throat starts to burn and ache. “Dad’s going to think I’m so stupid,” he whispers into her shirt.

“Neither of us thinks you’re stupid.” She kisses the top of his head.

“But what if I don’t get in?”

“Then you don’t get in. You’ll go somewhere else and you’ll have a wonderful life and you’ll do great things. And we’ll still be proud of you.”

Matt smiles, still a small and fragile thing, and pulls away. He rubs at his cheeks with his sleeve. “I just… I want to go there so bad,” he confesses.

“I know, baby. But for tonight, why don’t you try and get some sleep? You can try again tomorrow, okay?” She taps on his desk.

“Okay,” Matt agrees.

The funny thing is he can’t fall asleep. He’s trying. He’s been trying for two hours. And all he’s really been doing is laying down on his bed, staring at those stupid, completely inaccurate glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling, and thinking about how much he wants to fly among them.

For years and years, he’s heard his dad recount his adventures. Missions to the moon and watching the world from so far above and glimpsing solar flares lick panes of reinforced glass. He wants desperately to be a part of something greater, something bigger than the world itself, and he knows he has to leave the bounds of this planet to do it.

As his eyes drift closed, the glowing stars wink at him. Maybe they’re making a promise.

2.

The two of them have spent their lives together. The Holt siblings: the menaces, the geniuses, the inseparable.

Matt never minded when Katie hung out with him and his friends. She’s as witty and funny as the best of them. It never felt like the babysitting it started out as. Once Katie gets older though, his friends start to question it.

Isn’t she old enough to stay home alone? Does your little sister have to sleep over too? It’s not that we don’t like her, man, she’s great, but doesn’t she have her own friends?

The last comment makes Matt pause. Of course she has friends. He can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t want to be friends with Katie. But… she never has any friends over. She never talks about her friends. He’s never even seen her with other kids from her school.

Matt bites his lip. That can’t be right. There’s got to be something he’s missing.

His friends invite him over to watch a movie a few days later and when Katie asks if she can come to, Matt inquires as casually as he can, “Maybe you want to go over to one of your friends’ houses. You never seem to hang out with them.”

Only silence answers him. Matt glances up to see Katie’s fingers paused over her keyboard. She swallows and goes back to typing. “Nah, they’re all busy,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“Yep.” Katie doesn’t look up.

“I mean… I’m just asking because I feel like I never see you hanging out with anyone in your grade, you know?”

Katie slams her laptop closed and Matt jumps. “Look, if you don’t want me there, just tell me!”

“W- What?” Matt stammers but Katie is already storming from the room. “Katie! Katie, come on!”

Matt curses under his breath with a groan, running his hands down his face. He really messed up this time, didn’t he? (Did he? He doesn’t even know what set her off.)

He flinches as he hears Katie’s door bang shut and the house rattles along with it. He finally gets to his feet and makes his way to Katie’s room. He knocks first but there’s no answer.

“Katie?” Matt sighs into the silence and leans his head against the door. “Katie, I didn’t mean it like that. I want you there. I really do. I love hanging out with you. You’re, like, the smartest person I know. I just want to make sure you have friends, which I know sounds so stupid, but… You have other friends, right? Other than me and my friends?” Matt waits, before asking again, “Katie?”

“I have friends, Matt! Just go away already!” She sounds a bit more watery than Matt had hoped but he doesn’t know what else to do. So he leaves it.

Matt privately wonders how to fix this while he lays awake in his bed until his door creaks open. He sits up, eyes widening at the sight of Katie. She’s rubbing at her eyes and at first he thinks it’s because of sleepiness but as she comes closer, it’s clear she’s crying.

“Matt?” she whispers. She crawls onto his bed as he sits there, frozen and useless. “I lied.”

A shock of cold spears through his heart. All he can seem to muster is a, “Hm?” but she barrels on.

“I- I don’t have any friends. They all h-hate me and they think I’m such a nerd and the only time they ever want to talk with me is when we have group projects-”

“Katie.”

“-and it’s just cause they want me to do all the work and then when I don’t do it they say that’s why they hate me and now you don’t even want to be around me so it must just be me-”

“Katie!” Matt grabs her shoulders and Katie jolts. “I want to be around you. I love spending time with you.” She looks away. “No, I mean it. No one else gets quantum frequencies like you do, right?” She laughs a little at that and Matt smiles before it turns again to a frown. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Katie curls into herself. “Because you have friends. And it’s just… It’s more complicated than that. I’ve spent my whole life trying to catch up to you, accelerated classes, skipping grades, and it makes all the other kids hate me even more. And I didn’t even catch up! You’re going to leave and then I’m really going to be alone!”

“Well, we don’t know-” Matt tries.

“Come on, you’re getting in. And I want you to. I know it’s your dream. I don’t want you to have to worry about your stupid younger sister.”

“Don’t say that. You’re a lot of things but you’re definitely not stupid.”

“Thanks,” Katie scoffs. “I don’t know. It’s just… hard.”

“It gets easier. When kids are your age, they’re insecure, you know? You make them nervous. I actually used to eat lunch with my guidance counselor instead of in the cafeteria.”

“Really?” Katie sniffles and Matt feels like a failure of an older brother.

“Yeah, really. I didn’t meet my friends until middle school.”

“So I have to wait.”

“I guess. But you’ll be okay.” Matt pulls her in for a hug and she lays on his chest for a few seconds before wrapping her arms around him and returning the embrace. Matt doesn’t know what else to say but as he gently strokes her hair and hugs her a little tighter, he hopes this is enough.

“Alright. Thanks, Matt.” Katie untangles herself and gets up, wiping away the last of her tears. She pauses right before she exits the room. “I just want you to know… I’m going to be okay. If you get in and have to leave. I mean, it’s going to suck for a little bit but I can handle it. And then I’m going to meet you at the Garrison.”

Matt doesn’t need a pinkie promise to believe her.

1.

In the mail, Matt receives one acceptance letter. (And at home, Matt has to say one goodbye.)

Matt doesn’t even read the rest of the letter from the Garrison. He’s starts crying, crying, as he reads the header that says, Congratulations! His mother snatches the paper from him as he buries his head in his hands but it’s tears of relief coursing down his face.

“Oh my god,” he whispers into his palms. His mom honest-to-god squeals and hugs him, knocking him out of his shock. “Mom,” he grumbles but a smile creeps onto his face as it hits him.

He made it in. He’s going to the Galaxy Garrison.

“I knew you could do it.” His mom brushes a hand against his cheek before pulling away. She claps her hands, grabbing her phone from the counter. “We have to tell your dad! He’s going to be so proud.”

He is. He promises to them that even though he won’t be able to make it to Matt’s graduation, he’ll be the first one to greet him when he arrives at the Garrison. “It’ll be good to have another Holt around,” he says.

Katie takes it much better than Matt thought she would. It’s been another bad day at school, he can tell, but as he shares the news, he sees the fire light in her eyes. This only motivates her further.

Summer comes and goes faster than Matt can ever remember. His things are slowly packed into boxes, clothes and photos and books and tangled headphones. Saying goodbye to his home is much more sweet than bitter. He can feel the stars nearly at his fingertips, so close, and he’s ready to reach out and grab his future.

Katie and his mom drive him down to the Garrison. Hugs are exchanged as his dad greets them at the gate. Boxes are moved and furniture is shuffled about. He looks out the window of his new room, the realization that this is his life now hitting him hard.

He breathes deeply and smiles.

Katie lingers after their mom goes to start the car, the goodbye sticking in both of their throats. Her toes draw circles in the dirt and she holds her hands behind her back, gaze fixed on the ground.

“I’m going to miss you,” she finally mumbles.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Pidge.”

She huffs a laugh, muttering, “Don’t call me that.” The smile fades a bit. “Seriously though, I am going to miss you. Don’t forget to email or call or something.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Okay.” Katie finally meets his eyes. “This is only goodbye for now. Not for long. Because I’m going to catch up.” She jabs at his chest to emphasize her point. “Just wait.”

Matt grins and nods. He pulls her in for one last tight hug before she goes to follow their mom.

As they drive away from the Garrison, Matt sees Katie mouth, See you soon.

To the wind, he whispers, “I know.”