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crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years ago

Text

Holographic Sand is a Kickass Band Name

pairing: peter maximoff/OC(graciella decuerpo) (high school AU/not canon)

summary: peter learns that a fuckton can change in the course of a week

warnings: none? bad language and peter is simp but thats it

notes **please read**: Heyyyyy how are you doing? good? that’s great. so ik this fic is a peter/oc fic, but honesty i only use her name a few times and a few defining features but like. thats it. so you can totally just imagine urself in her position. also this fic is 5,550 words exactly. that’s the most ive ever written and I am SUPER fucking proud. I think i might become one of those blogs where i write super huge monster fics that im proud of instead of just writing to fill requests.if u dont want that then just lmk and i will not do that. i dont know. maybe. also this fic is peter centric because uh it is. anyways enjoy <3

taglist: @creator-appreciator, @simonsbluee

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Monday

Peter sat across the room, his arms crossed neatly on top of his knees as he rested his chin on his forearm. He wasn’t paying attention to the lesson being taught in front of him, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again. Peter’s mind was a chaotic minefield of music and cheesy one-liners and random facts that he seems to just know. But this time, he wasn’t envisioning himself beating up a police officer or playing with Pink Floyd. This time, he was picturing a perfect world where nothing ever happened yet nothing was ever boring. Peter had built a utopia in his mind-- a kingdom created to his exact preferences. A blissful tower of joy and happiness and energy and satisfaction. A paradise where he stood on top of the world with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra class, standing right next to him.

Now, Peter was well aware that the pretty girl from algebra class had no idea who Peter was. The pair had never exchanged more than a few words, but somewhere within those few words, Peter managed to decide that she was his soulmate. He’d created an image of her in his head that would make God weep tears of envy, the perfect personality for the perfect person. Peter willfully ignored the fact that he was setting himself up for heartbreak as he imagined how nice it would feel to have her fingers intertwined with his.

All of Peter’s friends thought he was ridiculous, ‘you can’t love someone you don’t know,’ they’d say. Peter would only scoff and shake away their words. He absolutely can love someone he doesn’t know, it’s getting the other person to reciprocate those feelings that’s nearly impossible. However, that doesn’t stop him from fantasizing at night. That doesn’t stop him from imagining the various ways he’d confess his love to the pretty girl who doesn’t love him. Or maybe she does. Peter doesn’t know, he could never know; unless, of course, he worked up the courage to talk to her.

Scott constantly teased Peter about his one-sided infatuation, but Peter paid no mind to him. He was 100% content with his perpetual pining for someone who probably didn’t know his name. He was totally okay with the unending ache in his chest that would appear any time she walked by or met his gaze. Peter was alright with his ceaseless yearning and the eternal feeling of disappointment that overtook him every time he snapped out of one of his fantasies. He was a-okay with all of that.

So, there he was, spacing out during biology class as Professor Hargreeves struggles to teach the silver teen about photosynthesis. The Professor looked at Peter with desperate eyes, soon deciding that having his usually energetic student be quiet and still was the silver lining of the situation-- no pun intended. Professor Hargreeves droned on as Peter glanced at the clock, counting down the minutes until 7th period. Counting the seconds until he got to see the pretty girl in algebra class once again.

Tuesday

6th period was always the worst part of Peter’s day-- the dreaded english class. There were many contributing factors to Peter’s hatred for this class; the professor was a bore, the material itself was uninteresting, and Peter could never seem to sit still or retain any of the words he read in english class. Worst of all, english class seemed to go on forever, leaving Peter to impatiently wait for the bell to ring and release him to 7th period. At the end of the period every day, he was practically vibrating in his seat.

“Can anyone tell me what Juliet’s suicide is supposed to symbolize?” the Professor asked expectantly. Peter couldn’t care less about the symbolism of some chick’s suicide-- he’d much rather be studying the features of his algebra class infatuation.

She sat next to him yesterday. There were at least 5 other open seats and she sat next to him. Yes, Peter read too much into it and yes, Peter spent the entire class period trying to make himself seem naturally cool, but he didn’t care. Peter would act like the most desperate, pathetic, lovestruck loser in the world if it meant that she would like him. They didn’t talk, they didn’t exchange a single word, nevertheless, Peter was in a state of euphoria for the entire class period.

Sometimes Peter feels like a stalker. He watches her whenever he can-- he doesn’t follow her around or anything, but if she’s around, he’ll stare at her. He has her features memorized, the curve of her nose, the dark brown irises surrounding her pupils, the way that she always seems to have chipped black nail polish on. He sees the small things. He sees the way she bites her nails when he gets bored and he sees the way her leg never seems to stop bouncing. She hums the basslines to songs as opposed to the melody.

English class came to an abrupt end as the bell cut off the Professor’s teachings as well as Peter’s distant daydreaming. Peter was out of his seat within seconds, his notes and books quickly being swept up in his arms as he walked out of the room. The hallways are crowded and chaotic and busy, each individual student attempting to get to their locker then to their class on time. Peter watches as kids swing their lockers open, fatigue and weariness apparent on their faces as they disappear into their classrooms. Peter reaches his locker hastily, the few small posters of classic rocks bands adorning the inside of his locker door. A playful giddiness overcame his body as he made his way to algebra class, a small smile left on his face.

Graciella shows up across the hallway, her bright red hair catching his eye in a sea of brown and blonde and blue. His stomach flutters as they get closer and closer to each other, finally meeting outside of the classroom. Her eyes rise to meet Peter’s, and instead of pulling away, Peter keeps looking. She smiles at him before disappearing inside the classroom, and Peter felt his knees get weak. With a deep breath and a triumphant smile, he walked into the classroom.

Wednesday

Lunchtime; possibly one of the most enjoyable parts of Peter’s school day. Peter is free to kick back and stuff his face full of whatever junk the school board deems nutritious enough for highschoolers. Usually, he ate lunch under the bleachers with his friends, but in some sick twist of fate most of them were absent. So, Peter was left to eat alone in his usual spot.

The quiet was comfortable, refreshing. The gentle summer breeze would blow every few minutes and Peter would listen to the rustle of the leaves. There’s a certain tranquility to being alone; Peter can lay back and relax and just… think. No stress, no panicking, no--

“Hey, uh, Peter, right?” Peter’s eyes snap up so fast he’s afraid they would detach from his head and fall out. His breath faltered and his hands began to shake a bit-- why was he so freaked out? She was just a girl; sure, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and yeah, he was madly in love with her, but that’s besides the point.

“Uh-- uh, yeah, P-Peter. That’s, uh, that’s me,” He chuckled awkwardly, desperately trying to stay cool. Peter was an awkward person, but he’d rather die than fuck up his chances with Grace.

“You dropped this on your way out of class yesterday, I, uhm, didn’t get to return it to you until now,” She holds out a small key chain with three small keys hanging off of it-- Peter’s house keys, along with the key to his mother’s car. He quickly takes the key chain from the red-haired girl in front of him.

“Holy shit, uh, thanks! I couldn’t get into my house yesterday so I guess you saved me from another broken window,” Peter held up his hand and showcased the scattered pattern of small cuts on his palm. Grace laughed lightly before gently running her fingers over the cuts on Peter’s palm.

“Oh fuck, dude, these look pretty bad. Maybe keep a spare key hidden under your welcome mat or something,” Peter doesn’t fully process Grace’s words; he’s too preoccupied with trying not to collapse at the feeling of her fingertips on his palm.

“Hey, you okay? You look… pale,” Grace pressed the back of her hand on Peter’s forehead in an attempt to check for illness, but that just made Peter’s skin erupt in goosebumps.

“I, um, I’m fine. I’m just st-stressed about the algebra t-test on Friday, I th-think,” To be fair, Peter was stressed about the algebra test. Peter may or may not have spent the entire class staring at Grace instead of, you know, learning the material.

“Oh! Well, if you want, I can help you study. I’m also kinda worried about it, and I study better with other people,” Peter silently thanked god for what was happening to him.

“That would be fuckin’ fantastic,” Grace smiled a smile that made Peter shiver.

“Cool! Uh, I’ll give you my phone number and we’ll meet up tomorrow. One day isn’t much time to study, but it’s better than nothing.” She pulls a pen out of her backpack and rips a small piece of paper out of one of her notebooks. Peter watches as she scribbles down her phone number and hands the paper to him.

“Thanks. For everything, the keys, the studying-- everything.” Grace smiled.

“It’s no problem, Peter, really. I’ll call you later,” And just like that, she walked away. Peter was left alone under the bleachers, a wide smile plastered on his face as he read the piece of paper in his hands over and over and over again.

Thursday

30 minutes. 30 minutes until Grace Reaper DeCuerpo, the prettiest, nicest, funniest girl Peter had ever met would show up on his doorstep. She would be inside his house for god knows how long. She would sit next to Peter-- either on the coffee table in the basement or on the floor of his bedroom. Needless to say, Peter was freaking the fuck out.

The plan was simple: Grace shows up, they study, they get comfortable, and she goes home. Yet, in those four simple steps, so much could go wrong. Wanda could interrupt, his mother could lose her temper, Lorena could start crying-- worst of all, Peter could embarrass himself and drive her away.

Peter was in the middle of reorganizing his record collection for a third time when he heard a knock at the door. His blood went cold and an electric excitement ran through his veins. Peter checked his hair in the mirror one last time before running to the door. He stood silently, staring at the chrome handle hesitantly. This was his one chance. His only chance to make his perfect kingdom real-- Peter really, really, really didn't want to fuck it up. With a deep breath, he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, Peter!" Her voice was smooth and melodic and it made Peter's heart light up. He’s about to respond with something smooth and witty when a squeaky voice chirps behind him.

“Hi!! Are you the pretty girl Peter talks about?” Peter can physically feel his face turn bright red as he turns to see his six-year-old sister, Lorena, standing behind him. She’s wearing a purple princess dress that has a syrup stain on the sleeve. Grace laughs before stepping through the doorway.

“Lorena!” Peter groans in annoyance, a pleading look on his face. The young girl just giggles before scurrying away, her dress flowing behind her.

“‘The pretty girl Peter talks about’, huh?” Grace grins at Peter cheekily. Peter runs his hand through his hair before motioning to the staircase.

“God, Lorna is quite the kid. Well, uh, we can work in my room,” He sighs. “And Grace? Uh, m-maybe don’t let Lorena change your opinion of me,” She just smirks before walking past Peter.

“Too late,” She called before disappearing down the stairs. Peter could hear the faintest trace of a smile in her voice. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly followed after her.

She was wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt and holding a backpack with various pins on it-- her left ear was pierced in three places and her right in five. The earrings she was wearing were black, or maybe grey; her bright red hair blocked Peter’s view of them. She was wearing rings, some odd words engraved in the metal. Peter couldn’t read them from where he was standing. She was wearing a skirt with fishnets, her hand buried in the pockets that seem to have been sewn in herself. She has callouses on both her hands, but Peter knew that already. Her appearance would put Aphrodite to shame-- suddenly, Peter was much less confident in himself than he was before. He ran his hand through his hair again before reaching the basement.

He held his breath as Grace looked around his room, her gaze lingering on the plethora of stolen signs and band posters covering the walls. She placed her backpack on the floor and walked over to Peter’s record collection, her fingers carefully flitting through the different albums. She seemed… impressed. It was then that Peter realized it had been silent for much too long.

“Y’know I can, uh, p-play some music if you want me to. You can just pick a record and, uh, I’ll... play it,” Peter winced at his words, cursing himself for being so awkward in front of the girl he’d been pining after since the beginning of the year. He felt like everything had spiraled out of control, and he watched idly as it happened. Then, Grace shot him a smile and pulled out a record.

“You have a good taste in music, Silver,” No one had ever called Peter ‘silver’ before. He liked it a bit more than he should. “Although, that’s not really a surprise. I had a feeling you were cool.”

“You think I’m cool?” Peter asked, shocked. He wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.

“Oh, totally. I see you in the hallways sometimes and you always seem so… carefree. Genuine. I don’t know, I guess it’s just… you, ya know? You’re naturally cool.” Every syllable that rolled off her tongue shot euphoria through Peter’s veins. Grace DeCuerpo, the girl Peter Maximoff had dreamed of for almost a full year, was telling him that she thought he was cool. Naturally cool.

“I know a lot of people who would disagree with you on that one,” Peter joked. There was truth behind his humor, but of course, he didn’t want to get into his insecurities now. “They think I’m a total loser, which isn’t totally wrong I guess.”

“Well those people are stupid,” She stated matter-of-factly with a smile. “Speaking of stupid, we should probably get to work.” Peter nodded before sitting beside her on the floor.

For three hours they poured over their algebra books. They quizzed each other and checked each other’s work; Peter’s proficiency in simplifying radicals aiding them both. Every now and then their hands would brush against each other, or the conversation would stray away from school and into their personal lives. Peter learned that Grace had two brothers, one of which passed away when she was younger. Peter talked about Lorena and Wanda and his miraculous abilities in the same way that she talked about her hometown and her own abilities. The conversation was smooth and natural-- Peter didn’t feel like he was being too annoying or too chatty and there was seldom an awkward pause. The pair were content in their time together, not a single moment went by where one wished the other would leave.

Eventually, Grace had to go home. Peter wished that she could stay forever, but of course, that would be considered kidnapping. He walked her to the door, although Peter didn’t feel like he was walking. He felt like he was floating.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Silver,” Grace said softly as she turned to face Peter. She looked him in the eye and he could feel his stomach flutter.

“Yeah, I guess so,” She opened the door, but before she left, she froze. She turned to look at Peter once again.

“Peter?” she said. “You’re not a loser.”

Friday

Peter could tell the second he walked through the front door of his high school that something had changed. The energy that radiated in the halls shifted from a dull buzz of boredom to a rush of anticipation. The students in the hallway looked the same as always; tired and anxious and wishing for the day to go by quickly. However, Peter wasn’t wishing for the end of the day, and he certainly wasn’t tired. He was determined and energized and absolutely terrified, because that morning Peter Maximoff made the most important decision a seventeen-year-old could. He decided that he was going to ask Grace out on a date.

Peter made the choice to keep this from his friends-- it’s not that he didn’t trust them, it’s just that Peter knew he would be teased for his infatuation. It’s happened before and it will happen again. He walked down the hallways with a brave face on, his eyes forward and his heart racing. Truthfully, the silver teenager was terrified of… well, everything. The looming image of a harsh rejection forced itself into his mind; the idea that she would laugh in his face made his heart break a tiny bit, even though it wasn’t real. Peter simply shook those images away and walked on.

The day flew by much faster than Peter was comfortable with, and for the first time ever, he was dreading algebra class. He was terrified that he would walk through the door and have everything be exactly the same-- he feared that Grace would go back to not knowing who he was, just like before. Peter was alright with never being her boyfriend, but he didn’t want to be a stranger. He didn’t think he could take being a stranger anymore.

So, there he stood, staring at the door to his algebra classroom from across the hall. He felt confident and prepared himself for the task at hand. In four long strides, he entered the classroom. Grace was sitting next to an empty desk, her eyes stuck on the small notebook full of doodles on her desk. Peter watched as her eyes raised to meet his, a wide smile forming on her face as she motioned him over.

“Hey, silver! I saved a seat for ya,” she called, and Peter felt his knees get weak. He then decided that he would wait until after class to ask her out.

“You did?”

“Of course,” She grinned. “I like you, dude, you’re my friend,” Peter’s heart fluttered as he sat down beside her. Grace shot an odd look his way before reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, you look stressed. Don’t sweat it, silver, you’ll do fine. We studied for, like, 3 hours yesterday. You’re gonna ace it,”

To be frank, Peter had forgotten all about the test. The real reason he looked so stressed was because he happened to be sitting next to the love of his life, and the love of his life happened to be touching his arm.

“O-oh! Uh, yeah, thanks. I was just nervous because of… the test,” The bell rang and class began, the professor strictly laying down the rules that were to be followed while the test was in session. Peter could feel the lingering touch of her hand on his skin. It made his head feel fuzzy.

Peter soon came to learn that sitting next to Grace during a test was a huge mistake. He couldn’t focus on anything other than her-- it didn’t help that she kept shooting him glances from where she sat. The numbers and letters on the paper in front of him seemed to rearrange before his eyes, instead spelling out various taunts. He feels a little pathetic for how easily Grace can unravel him, but hey, he’s a teenager.

The silver-haired boy’s eyes were struggling to decipher the words on his page when a small folded square landed on his desk. It came from Grace’s direction, and a small smirk had formed on her lips as she solved equations. Hesitantly, he unfolded the paper and read the neatly written message.

Hey silver :)

Peter smiled softly. He quickly pulled a pad of post-it notes out of his backpack and scribbled down a quick reply.

I have no idea what I’m doing. I think Professor Stedman decided to write our tests in hieroglyphics this time.

He flicked the note onto her desk and quickly turned his face downward. Class would be over soon, and Peter knew he couldn’t turn in a blank test. He uses his enhanced speed to do his assessment in seconds. Sure, he was almost certain he’d barely reach a passing grade, but hey, he had bigger matters to focus on. By the time he finished, another note landed on his desk.

That bad, huh? Looks like we better study longer next time.

Peter’s heart swelled a bit. He really thought the study sessions were a one-time thing. He’s overjoyed to know he’ll get to see Grace semi-regularly, even if he never manages to ask her out.

I think I’d rather hang out with you without the looming threat of schoolwork.

That’s the closest Peter could get to asking her out. He put deep thought into every word, he examined the phrasing and checked the spelling of every word. His english teacher would be proud.

That can be arranged ;)

Peter had no idea that four words could make him feel so much. He had no idea that 17 letters could make him want to scream in the middle of a silent testing period. His hand was shaking and his careful planning was abandoned as he scribbled back a reply.

Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?

Patiently, he waited. He waited for Grace to finish writing her response and he waited for her to toss the note back over. He didn’t wait for more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours. He was panicking, and he was sure she could tell. She was probably joking, right? She was probably writing an awkward clarification-- she was probably explaining that she would actually rather die than be around him for non-academic reasons. He braced himself as the yellow post-it landed on the center of his desk.

My aunt owns a drive-in a few miles from here and she gave me keys to the projector room and the gate. She managed to snag a copy of The Exorcist-- I thought you’d like to join me during my midnight escapade tomorrow night.

Peter’s heart stopped. For a moment, he thought his eyes were fooling him. Maybe this was all some sick joke. Maybe he was being set up. Maybe he’ll get in her car tomorrow and she’ll drive him into the woods and murder him. To be completely honest, Peter wouldn’t mind if she murdered him. Peter wrote his reply.

Really? You want me there? I might be a drag. You could probably find at least 20 other people who would probably be more interesting than me.

Grace frowned at his response, and suddenly Peter decided he never wanted to see her frown again. She wrote confidently, her words solid and sure.

You? A drag? Impossible. I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be with anyone other than you, Maximoff.

This note was his undoing. He couldn’t help himself, he read it over and over and over again-- he almost forgot to respond. He wanted to hold onto it forever, he wanted it to be framed and hung on his wall. Hell, he wanted it tattooed on his arm. Peter had never been so happy while taking a test, that’s for sure. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say; he went from heartfelt responses to witty retorts. Finally, he decided to be totally and completely honest.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Saturday

There was seldom a time in his life where Peter Maximoff felt wholly content. Even in the most peaceful moments, there was always something bothering him, there was always something to pull him back to reality. However, sitting in the back of Grace’s dad’s convertible with the seats down and the roof pulled back, his head resting on her shoulder as they watched a cheesy horror movie, Peter was as close to nirvana as he’d ever been.

Life had always been so hard for Peter. He’s always had to fight for his seat at the table, to claw his way into a state of mind that wasn’t a hellhole. It seemed as if the world was plotted against him; he was ostracized from society and taught that he, along with his closest family and friends, were monsters. He never met his father and his mother spent so long fighting her own battles that she forgot to love her kids. Peter had to steal to stay fed, and he had to do his best to raise his little sisters to be good people. But right there, right then? That wasn’t hard. Peter didn’t have to be anyone or do anything-- he just had to exist next to someone who wanted him. That was the easiest thing Peter had ever done.

Peter wasn’t exactly sure how he got there. Of course, he knew that they had driven to the drive-in, but he wasn’t sure how he was the person next to Grace. They had spoken for one day, maybe two, and somehow he landed himself in the most perfect spot in the entire universe. Less than a week ago, she didn’t even know his name. Or, maybe she did. Maybe she was just like Peter-- maybe she had spent the past year pining for him, and finally she worked up the nerve to just talk to him. Maybe. Peter isn’t complaining either way.

“Can I ask you a kind of cheesy question?” Peter is startled by the sound of his own voice. Grace sits up and glances at him.

“Shoot,”

“Do you-- well, uh, don’t read too much into this, but, do you believe in love at first sight?” God, he sounded awkward.

“Nope,” She said bluntly. Peter wasn’t expecting that answer, but he wasn’t exactly disappointed by it. “I mean, it’s kind of a stupid idea, ya know? Like, isn’t there a million poems and sonnets and books written about how love is this weird complicated monster of a feeling? I don’t think you can really love someone just by looking at them. You can love the idea of a person, sure, or maybe the look of a person, but you can’t love that person. Because a person is so much more than ‘first sight’,” she sighs. “I don’t know, maybe I’m being a killjoy. It just seems dumb to me-- dumb and, I don’t know, exclusive,”

Peter stops to think for a moment. He steps out of his lovesick chaotic hellbrain and looks at his feelings from an outside perspective. He thinks back to the kingdom he created in his brain-- a kingdom built on a foundation of sand. Or, less than sand. Holographic sand, because the sand he built his kingdom on wasn’t real. He made a mental note that ‘Holographic Sand’ is a kickass band name, then resumed his impromptu soul-searching. She was right-- he could see that now. Scott was right, too. You really can’t love someone you don’t know, because if you don’t know them, you fill in the gaps. You fill in the gaps with what you think fits, and then the other person stops being them and starts being parts of you. Peter suddenly felt weird.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” Grace interjects after a while. Peter hadn’t realized he’d been silent for so long.

“You didn’t say anything wrong. On the contrary, you, uh, you made things a little bit more… right, in my brain. You somehow managed to take a little chunk of chaos and tame it, which is scarily impressive,” he joked. “Remind me to ask you your opinion on the meaning of life and the root of true happiness,” They’re joined in a chorus of laughter and Peter realizes that his little brain kingdom didn’t hold a candle to the red convertible he was sitting in. She slings an arm around his shoulders.

“Y’know, I might not know the meaning of life, but I am pretty close to true happiness right now,” She says, softer than before. “Maybe the root of true happiness is you, Maximoff,” She chuckles. Peter smiles. He doesn’t want the ruin the moment-- god, he is desperately trying to keep himself from fucking it up, but he feels obligated to tell her about his year of pining.

“Hey, uh, can I tell you something kinda pathetic?” He cringes at the way his voice trembled on the last word.

“Go ahead, Peter,” She used his name this time. Peter thinks she knows he’s about to say something mildly serious.

“I’ve liked you since, like, the beginning of the year. You seemed so… cool. So nice. I saw you in the hallways and my stomach would get all twisted up and my head would hurt a little bit. It was like I was allergic to you, but I enjoyed it. That sounds weird. I’m sorry,” He stopped for a moment, attempting to take the buzzing mass of words in his brain and string them into a sentence. “I was too afraid to talk to you, so I, uh, asked around. I got other people’s opinions of you and then built a little version of you in my brain. I realize now that, uhm, the little brain version of you is like, way way worse than actual you,”

When you talked to me the first time, you threw me off. I wasn’t really nervous about the test-- I mean, yeah I was nervous but that’s not why I looked so pale. I just wasn’t expecting for you to talk to me, like, willingly. So I lied because I was embarrassed. And I lied again in class yesterday. Because I was embarrassed,” He stopped talking. Peter felt like he was digging himself into a hole-- he felt like he killed the sweet sugary mood.

“Why are you telling me this?” Grace asked. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded a little confused, and she sounded like she was trying to help Peter decipher his brain.

“I don’t know, I guess I just feel bad. I feel bad for, uh, for not being honest I guess. I feel bad for being a coward,” Yep, definitely killed the mood.

“Peter, you shouldn’t feel bad for being afraid, you know,” She assures. “I would’ve done the exact same thing in your position. Hell, I did do the exact same thing in your position,” That caught Peter’s attention.

“What?”

“You didn’t drop your keys in algebra. You dropped them somewhere in bio and my friend found them. She was gonna take them to the office, but I wanted an excuse to talk to you, so I said I’d return them,” Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was being pranked, he had to be. “Being awkward and weird is like a requirement in high school. Don’t sweat it, Maximoff, really. We’re all the same in that way, I think,”

Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was feeling too much at that moment, he was letting the bad drown out the good. He didn’t want to remember the day in a sad light.

“I like you. A lot. Even if you are awkward and weird,” He smiles softly. Slowly, ever so slowly, he intertwined his fingers with those of the girl beside him. It was a simple display of affection, but it made Peter feel like he was floating.

“I like you too, dork,” Peter smiled widely before placing his head back on Grace’s shoulder. Peter wasn’t paying attention to the movie, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again-- but this time, he wasn’t standing on a false kingdom with a false version of the girl he liked. No, this time, he was thinking about the very real girl beside him. He was thinking about the perfect world they had created in the small car they were in; a perfect world where he felt so much emotion and so, so safe. They had built a utopia in the back seat- a blissful tower of awkwardness and comfort and clumsy confessions. A paradise where he sat in the back seat of a Ford Galaxie with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra class, sitting right next to him.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x reader #sorta a little bit #graciella reaper decuerpo #xmen #xmen fanfiction #xmen imagine #high school AU

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sojourntime-aux · 4 years ago

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Day 5 (August 6th): Facing Their Fears – What are your OC’s fears and failures? How do they deal with them? Have they been able to overcome them? Will they ever be able to?

Day 5 is a bit of a contrast from my day 4 stuff! Also I may have played fast and loose with the prompt for today, but I hope y'all enjoy these! @khoc-week

> Warning for implied death, or atleast characters MIA.

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Unravel

Tabitha wasn't supposed to be here, she knew that. She especially wasn't supposed to have discovered this.

'No.. no no no.. that can't be..' Tabitha stared at the place in her notebook where pages once had been. Now she was sure she had written something there. Entry upon entry, missing. 'Just like my memory.'

Tears welled up in Tabitha's eyes, although she wasn't quite sure why. All she knew was that her heart tugged at these flashes of memory she was having. The pictures of this someone else she seemed to know, to have spent time with, to have written about, to have.. Tabitha could barely remember her.

What else did they take from her memories? From everyone's memories? Who else did they take?

Betrayal

Tagen leaned on Kathrynn, the low light of her flat helping to calm his nerves. This was the most relaxed he felt in weeks.

The three of them had started their search for their missing friend only two weeks ago, after she hadn't been seen for their end of the day routine for a week. Tagen had spent days on end searching world after world, and asking everyone one he saw if they had seen her, until Tabby and Kathrynn made him stop and rest. Tagen still looked every day for their missing friend, having not given up hope she would come back.

"Do you believe she's alright?" Tagen mumbled, trying to be hopeful. Kathrynn stopped in the middle of running her fingers through his hair, almost frozen.

"W-what?" Tagen opened his eyes and lifted his head, pulling away from Kathrynn a bit. He could tell there was something wrong with her, just wasn't sure what.

"Tabitha. Do you think she's okay?"

"Um... Yeah sure, if that's what you believe..." Kathrynn glanced down, unable to look Tagen in the eye. Tagen narrowed his eyes, giving Kathrynn a distrustful look.

"Do you know something?" With those words he could see he hit a nerve. He was on his feet now, glaring at her, staring her down with anger burning in him.

"What do you know Kathrynn."

She had followed him onto his feet. She only glanced up at Tagen for moment, but long enough for him to see the overwhelming guilt written on her face.

"I-i'm sorry.." Kathrynn tried to reach out for him, but Tagen backed away. The two of them had become a lot closer over the past couple weeks, closer than they had ever been. That was gone now. Tagen drew his keyblade, wincing at the heat in his hand. He then pointed it directly at Kathrynn.

"Where. is. Tabitha."

Darkness

It could only be a matter of time, right? The more she thought about it, the more Kathrynn felt the claws of uncertainty within her.

'Could I already have that within me?' Perhaps Tagen's ramblings should have been put a stop. They were what probably got Tabitha. And Tagen... He gave in probably long before she could have known. 'But I should have. I should have seen it. It was right in front of me, wasn't it?'

Tagen's words still echoed within Kathrynns mind, some of them haunting her to her core, some just making her sick. She kept telling herself she had to be strong, she still had Tabby to protect. She couldn't give into all this like they had.

'But didn't I already?'

Loss

"Hey Tabby, you okay? You seemed a little bit lost in your head today." Tabby looked over at Tagen, who was currently helping him put away dishes before they headed up to the rooftops.

"Yes. I guess I've just got something on my mind is all. Its nothing big." Tabby said, and he put the last dish back in its place.

"Spill. Y'know you can always talk to me." Tagen turned around and leaned back against the sink, making a bit of a point that he wasn't going anywhere until Tabby talked.

"Okay... Well you ever get this feeling that your mostly just a face in the background? And not much else?" Tabby glanced over at his friend, who was giving him a look.

"Is that how you feel?"

"Sometimes.. I don't know, I guess." Tabby confessed. "I just wonder if I've made a big enough impression on the world, to be worth remembering."

Tabby carried out two bowls to the table outside his house. Kathrynn still wasn't talking much, but atleast she was eating. Setting down what he was carrying, Tabby gently pushed a bowl of hot stew in front of his friend.

"Here. It's nice and hot."

"..thank you." The was usually the only response he got now.

Tabby look at the other spots at the table, that had once almost always been filled. There used to be so much chatter around their little picnic table, now it was just...silence. Kathrynn didn't even want to go up to rooftops anymore. Tabby didn't know what was wrong, he could only assume it was heartbreak for their two missing friends.

Slowly their little group had fallen apart, and Tabby couldn't help but wonder about which one of them would be next to go missing, and if he did, he would just fade into obscurity...

-ERROR-

Remember

The girl glanced back over at Tabitha, catching her staring.

"Need something, sugar?" She asked playfully. Tabitha only blushed, shaking her head and mumbling out a small 'No.' Kathrynn and the other chuckled.

Suddenly the girl moved, making Tabitha look up again, only to gasp slightly. She was holding the heart shaped glasses out, giving them over to Tabitha. She knew Tabitha had never seen her without them, but that wasn't the purpose behind this action.

"Here sugar, take 'em. They're a little lucky in the finding things department, so maybe they'll help you find some answers." She could tell Tabitha was still a little flustered, which made the other girl smirk. She took the opportunity to slip the glasses onto Tabitha's face gently herself.

"There. Now," She stood up and stretched, running her hand through Tabitha's fuzz. "Ive gotta turn in early, big line up for tomorrow. But I'll meet you guys here again soon, 'k?" She said, looking back over rooftops, to trying and hide her own blush now.

"Bye, see you soon." Kathrynn waved. Kathrynn had clearly picked up on what the gesture ment, or atleast the part that was important. "And Tabitha says thanks."

"Oh I know." The other girl replied, before turning and making her way off the roof. Once she was on the ground, she glance back up at the roof top where her friends still were.

'Please. Tabitha. I'm doing something dangerous, and possibly stupid tomorrow. But it's for you. You have to remember me if anything happens.'

#khocweek2020 #khux oc #sojourns keykids #khux #yall ive done so much writing this week #i love these keykids #also im putting a warning on it just in case yall #💕

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broken-clover · 4 years ago

Text

AU-gust Day 6- Hospital

I’m here early! Mostly because I had a lot of this written earlier, so if that didn’t make it obvious enough I really liked this prompt. While it’s a hospital prompt is isn’t especially intense or gory, after yesterday I tried to make this one pretty lighthearted. Honestly I feel like the only really uncomfortable part of this is how much effort I put in trying to make a Pokemon expy. Hehe.

Sorry-not-sorry for more Sin and Bedman, it’s a bit more ‘romantic’ then last time but still pretty much platonic friendship. Enjoy!

Though it felt weird to say, Sin knew his least favorite thing about his father was his charity. Helping out people in need was a good thing, obviously, but a ridiculous amount of his childhood memories involved being dragged along to food banks, hospitals, and shelters so his dad could give corny, well-wishing speeches and lend a hand to those less fortunate, forcing him to help out alongside the other volunteers. Sin had used to wonder if it was because something about having a cute little kid around raised everyone’s morale, or whatever.

Well, considering he was now a grown-ass teenager at the age of sixteen, and Ky was still dragging him along, maybe he’d been off the mark.

At least he’d been allowed to take a break after an hour of schlepping donation boxes up to the children’s wing. Of all the places his dad went to for charity work, hospitals were by far his least favorite. The colorless, sterile atmosphere was just unnerving to be around. As soon as he could, he made a dash for the nearest sign pointing him toward the courtyard.

Sin swiped his guest ID through the maglock, which released with a cheery beep. The white walls and stench of antiseptic gave way to an array of soft colors and the smell of flowers. He took a deep whiff of the aroma and sighed with relief. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his handheld, fully charged for when he got a break and could take a minute to loaf off and relax.

Which game had he left in it this time? He popped out the cartridge and smiled. That was right. Pocket Beasts: Light version. His current favorite. He just needed a comfy place to hunker down and play.

A few stone benches were placed in between bushes and flowerbeds, all unoccupied. The place looked really empty, but it made sense. Everyone who wasn’t already busy was probably at Ky’s speech. At least it meant he’d be able to get some peace and quiet and privacy.

He spotted a pretty lavender flower poking out of the bushes and approached. The ‘flower’ moved, making him realize he’d seen wrong. Sin groaned inwardly at the sight of another person, perched on the short stone wall surrounding the flowerbeds. They didn’t glance up, if they’d even noticed him at all, appearing too absorbed in their own handheld device to care about much else.

“H-hey.” He raised a hand at them, and offered a twitchy half-smile. There were so many ways he knew this could go wrong. Sometimes people screamed at him until he fled, or immediately launched into the most boring small-talk possible. Sin just wanted to play his game, he really had no interest in causing any trouble. “Can I sit down?”

Sin braced himself for a response, but he didn’t get one. “Hey?” He tried again, waving harder. Maybe they were deaf? “Is it ok if I sit out here?”

Eyes glanced up at him, but only for a half-second before they returned to the screen. Well, it wasn’t a ‘no,’ so the best he could assume was they just didn’t care.

Hesitantly, he found a place to sit. If the hospital gown and IV hadn’t already given it away, it was pretty clear that he was a patient, not a visitor. He was scrawny and spindly to the point where it was almost disturbing, his skin was pale and sickly, and the messy bedhead was only slightly offset by the awkward purple hair dye. Why was he out here in the first place, instead of at Ky’s speech?

He knew staring was rude, but he just couldn’t stop himself. Every time he tried, there was another odd little detail that caught his attention. A peculiar little hairclip in the shape of a pink arrow. A purple charm bracelet half-hidden by his standard-issue hospital band. Glittery star stickers on the sides of his handheld, and- hey, he recognized that game!

His expression brightened. “Oh, you play Pocket Beasts too? That’s my favorite! Who’s your starter?”

The only response he got was a couple of button clicks. Sin found himself sinking back into an uncomfortable silence. Well, he supposed it was better than being yelled at. He switched his game on.

Dad said he wasn’t supposed to use the internet at the hospital because it would mess with all the fancy machines, so online matches were out of the question. Well, there was always the battle tower. Maybe he could item grind to kill time. He still needed to finish his Soup Encyclopedia and some of the rare cooking items could only be found there.

Any discomfort he had was wiped away with the familiar music and intro screen of the game. How could he worry when there were battles to be won? All he had to worry about was making the most of his free time.

His avatar flickered into existence, still in the last town he’d visited. As soon as he moved towards the nearest building, though, a little indicator popped up on the bottom of the screen. Puzzled, Sin took his stylus and tapped on the icon.

Trainer BEDMAN would like to battle!

>Accept Decline

‘Bedman?’ He looked up at the little avatar that had appeared, then glanced off to the boy at his side. The messy lavender dye-job was surprisingly close, as was the magenta arrow pinning his bangs out of his eyes. Was it just some weird coincidence? If he wanted to play, he could have just asked…

Despite his confusion, Sin clicked ‘Accept.’ PvP battles were more fun than doing the same grind he had done over and over again. Even if he did lose, it was in a totally unique way.

The usual introductory animations played out as their avatars posed and tossed their first beasts into battle. Sin had to snicker at the disparity between their choices. He always liked sending his biggest and toughest beasts out in the beginning, and pretty much anything looked tiny beside it.

But smaller meant faster, so he wasn’t all that surprised to see the other one attack first. He braced himself for a tough starting move...only to be confused at the sight of a sand cloud being thrown at him.

Enemy Used SAND TOSS!

Accuracy Lowered!

Sand toss? What a waste of a turn! Sin grinned as it switched to his turn. Karate chop, a pretty powerful start, it always hit, and he had the type advantage, what a great way to start a match- !

Attack Missed!

“What!? How did that miss!?”

“Karate chop has a standard accuracy of 100%.” A low, quiet voice spoke up next to him, making Sin practically jump back in shock. “But I lowered your accuracy with sand toss, so now there’s a 15% chance it won’t hit.”

“...Huh.” He looked back at his screen. “Never see people use sand toss out of, like, NPC fights.”

“Most players treat accuracy-modifiers as a waste of time, but if you have a Pocket Beast with a high enough defense, then the turns spent not attacking are made up for when the opponent can barely hit you later.” The strange boy had such a casual tone to his voice, as though they’d been conversing for hours already.

It was a bit jarring, but Sin tried to roll with it. “I guess that does make sense. Sorta like when a beast has the ‘Decoy’ ability and the first attack never hits?”

“Kind of. But a lot of players know which beasts can have Decoy, so they know ahead of time to focus on stat-altering moves or poisoning instead of wasting a turn when they know attacking won’t do anything. Take your turn.”

It took him a moment to process the last bit, but he noticed the battle menu had popped up again. He picked another attack. “Why’d you want to battle me? Did you just pick at random?”

“You were the only opponent available.” Another sand toss. “It’s hard to find people to play with on local, and I’m not allowed to use global matchmaking in my room because it needs an internet connection.”

Sin waited for his two-turn charge move to activate, but before it could be his turn, a swift attack managed to knock his beast out cold. “Damn it! I thought I had that…”

He spotted a triumphant little smirk out of the corner of his eye. “Pocket Beasts is all about tactics. You have to take everything into account. It’s easy to just care about how much damage a move can do, but you’re doomed from the start if you don’t have the right stats, or the best moveset to compliment them.”

He couldn’t help but grin along with him. “Wow, you’re really good at strategy!

‘Bedman’ managed a small, awkward smile. “Well, um, not like I have much else to do…”

“Really?” Sin tilted his head. “I guess it’s good you’ve got something fun to do while you’re here, all this hospital stuff skeeves me out. When do they let you go back home? I dunno how long you’ve been here, but I think I’d go nuts after a couple of days.”

“I’m not sure. I’ve been here a while, already.” A lucky hit from Sin’s beast managed to knock his first one out. “Since...last January, if I remember correctly.”

Last January? Jeez, forget a few days, he was sure he’d be past insanity after a whole year!

Sin donned a look of pity. “That sucks. What’s wrong with you?” The words came out before he could think or realize that it wasn’t an especially nice thing to say. “Uh, shit, sorry-”

“Mmm. It’s okay. At least you don’t mince your words. I have a neurological disorder that affects how my brain processes information. It’s a bit hard to describe. Let’s say a human brain is like a computer, it processes the inputs that are fed into it. Powerful, modern computers can process a lot of information all at once, but if a computer is old, or wasn’t built properly, trying to process too much information can make it overheat and crash.”

“Oh. So how do you keep it from ‘overheating?’”

“Sleep, mostly. I’m only awake for a few hours every day. When I’m awake, and I don’t have tests to do, I like to play games. My sister and I play multiplayer sometimes, but usually I have to play by myself. She has the same problem I do, so a lot of the time one of us is asleep during the times the other’s awake.”

Was it weird to get all this personal information from someone he’d just met? Sin wasn’t sure. But he did like talking to this guy. “Well, want to swap Friend Codes? If we’re registered as friends then local multiplayer should work, then you don’t have to use an internet connection!”

“Where do you live?”

“Central Illyria!” Sin beamed. “Like, half an hour at most. It should still work from there.”

The other boy gave him an odd look. “I’m sure there’s plenty of hospitals closer to you, then. Why did you come out all the way here?”

That got him to roll his eyes, making an exaggerated gagging noise. “My dad. He always drags me along on his charity stuff, carrying boxes and shit. He only let me take a break because he’s making some dumb speech up in the-”

And the regret came just as fast as he saw his companion’s expression shift. He hated the visits, obviously, but he knew it was important to a lot of people. And if someone had been stuck in a hospital for that long, maybe they’d be happy to have someone new come by. He must have come off as such a dick-

Before he could stew on it more, he heard a little laugh. “Yeah. I hate those, too.” Bedman was smiling at him. “You’re Kiske’s kid? That’s got to be awful.”

“Heh. Yeah, it really is.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Never gave you my name, did I? I’m Samson, but everyone just calls me ‘Sin.’”

“I was curious about your name, that does make a bit more logical sense.” His companion nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Sin.”

“Same! What about you? Can’t imagine your name’s really ‘Bedman,’ is it?”

“More of a screen name, really. My name is-”

“Mattie! Dr. Baldy says you’ve gotta have your IV changed!”

They both jumped at the sudden noise, accompanied by the slam of a door. A girl with shaggy blonde hair and familiar features limped into the courtyard, setting her sights on them as soon as she was visible.

“There you are! I just knew you’d be out here.”

“Well, there’s not many other places I could be…” He said. “When did you wake up?”

“‘bout half an hour ago.” She replied. “Just in time for mom and dad to send me out to look for you.”

The girl’s expression changed when she noticed Sin. “Oh! Mattie, who’s this?”

“Sin, this is my twin sister, Delilah.” ‘Mattie’ pointed to her. “Delilah, this is my...new friend.”

“New friend?” Delilah reached out and shook Sin’s hard with a remarkable amount of strength. “Did my baby bro talk your ear off about his favorite game again?”

“You’re only older by nine minutes, Delilah!”

“He’s really good at Pocket Beasts.” Replied Sin. “It was fun playing with him!”

At that, he realized neither of them had selected anything in a while. He looked down at his screen

TIME UP

DRAW

“Aww, maaaaan…”

“Do we have enough time for another match?” Mattie asked.

“Dr. Baldy looked really serious. We probably can’t make him wait that long.” Delilah shook her head.

Sin tried to bring the mood back up. “Well, we were still gonna swap Friend Codes, right? Then we can play whenever! Either of you have something to write with?”

Delilah pulled a thick black sharpie from her sock. “I have a marker! But no paper…”

“Oh! Hold on a sec.” Sin rolled his jacket sleeve up and held out his arm. Just write it on the back!”

The two of them looked hesitant. “Is that safe?”

“It’s totally fine! It’s a little hard to wash off, but that means it won’t smear before I get home!”

Mattie took the marker and began scribbling on his forearm. “You’re really quite strange, Sin.”

“Thanks!” As soon as the wet feeling on his arm went away, he twisted around to see two series of digits.“What’s this other number?”

“Our phone number. If, um, you ever feel like calling.” Despite his attempts to hide it, Sin could see the faint blush to the other boy’s cheeks. “Do you think you could do one more thing very quickly?”

He couldn’t think of what it could have possibly been. “Yeah?”

“Can you draw something on me? I’ve never done it before. I want to see what it’s like.”

He grinned. “Hell yeah! I’ll try and draw something cool real quick!”

Delilah winced. “You know mom and dad are going to kill you, right?”

“Just say it was my idea!” Sin beamed. Mattie flinched the first time he pressed the marker to his skin, but he managed to still draw a straight line. He couldn’t think of anything in particular to draw, so he settled for a series of sharp, criss-crossing black lines circling his forearm. “How’s that?”

“...woah.” Simple as it was, Mattie looked utterly awestruck. “It’s…

“C’mon, Mattie, we’ve gotta go!” Tired of waiting, Delilah all but dragged him off the wall.

“See ya!” Sin waved as they departed. “You’d better bring your A-game next time we battle, I don’t lose easy!” He folded up his game and tucked it into his back pocket. That was probably his cue to leave, too.

As he hopped off the wall, he could make out a faint voice trailing away to the other side of the courtyard.

“Huh? What’s the deal with you, Mattie? You never look that happy!”

Sin smiled as he turned to leave. Ky was probably waiting for him.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been excited for the next visit.

#AU-gust #writing #guilty gear #Sin Kiske #Bedman

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novacxlum · 5 years ago

Text

the wedding planner

in which you’re a wedding planner working on the biggest party of your career with more than a few bumps along the way

a/n: facts about this piece:

1: this isnt much like anything ive ever written and doesn’t rly sound like me AT ALL

2: its really quite long, like nearly 25 pages in word

3: this is very much based on the jennifer lopez movie bc its SO good

You squint under the bright sunlight as you rush down the bustling city streets; it’s an unusually warm day in southwest London and you can’t help but curse yourself for not checking the weather. If your arms weren’t so full, you’d shrug off your cardigan, but between your phone and purse and binder, you can’t find a spare hand.

“Listen, Izzy, tell Joelle to stop freaking out. We’ll just tour venues tomorrow, instead. Call her and make sure she’s okay, tell her I’ll call them all.”

“Do you still have the list or do you want me to send it to you again?” Your assistant and best friend’s voice echoes tinnily through the phone and you purse your lips. You can barely focus on the question, the heat beginning to become unbearable. Your shoulder is becoming sore from bumping into everyone on the crowded sidewalk.

“Um, I may have it, but can you send me an extra copy just in case?” You fit your phone between your ear and shoulder and you begin to rifle through your binder.

“Yeah, for sure. She also wants to add Heavenly Hollow onto that list. I’ve got their number right here, can I read it off to you?”

You look up from your binder to gauge the distance to your crosswalk and pull a pen from your hair, find a blank page, and say, “Yeah, but hurry.”

You listen to her speak quickly and jot down the number as fast as your fingers will move. Just as you begin to walk across the crosswalk, you stick your pen back behind your ear. “Okay, call me when you get home.”

“Will do,” you grin, saying your goodbyes and listening to her hang up.

You struggle to get your phone out from its secure place. Someone’s shoulder hits yours particularly hard and you grunt as it falls from your arms. You gasp as papers fly around you and you hastily sheathe your phone in your pocket and crouch down, fumbling with your papers. If this weren’t the most important wedding of your career, you’d have left them, but you know there are papers here that Izzy doesn’t have and you’ll be damned if you’re going to let Joelle Christiansen the same wedding treatment you give everyone else.

“Hey!” The word rings loudly in your ears. You barely hear it, still struggling to get your papers back in their spots. “Hey, ma’am!” This time you look up; not at the man yelling, presumably at you, but at the tourist bus hurtling straight toward you.

“Shit,” you whisper, clutching your binder and standing to your full height. You take a step, and before you can get anywhere, the wind is knocked from you. There are arms wrapped tightly around you, but your back slams into the cement of the sidewalk. You groan, still gripping your binder as the sounds of screeching rubber from the bus ring through the air.

“Jesus, are you okay?” A Welsh accent asks. Your eyes, which you had not realized were still closed, blink open. You let a deep breath out and look at your savior.

And, good god, was he a savior. A beautiful one at that. You clear your throat and close your eyes again, your heart still pounding. “Did I get all my papers?” You ask, and he chuckles ludicrously.

“Yeah, love, I think you did.”

“Thank Christ.” You breathe, dropping your head back. You eyes immediately snap open. “And thank you! Seriously, I owe you my life.”

He laughs softly, and as you stare up at him, you become acutely aware that you’re still trapped beneath a strong contender for the most handsome man you had ever seen. You sit up quickly and he falls to sit beside you. “Are you alright?” He asks again, and you let out a huffy breath, blowing your hair from your face.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” The two of you stand, you gratefully taking his hand when he offers it. “Hey, let me buy you a coffee or something. It’s the least I could do.” You plead, still holding your binder close to your chest.

“I shouldn’t,” he breathes softly, and you give him the smallest of all smiles.

“Please. It doesn’t even have to be a coffee, I just owe you.”

“Coffee would be lovely.” He admits. Your face splits into a grin and you hold out your hand.

“I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

He accepts your handshake and the two of you begin to walk toward the cafe just around the corner. “Taron,” The name is familiar, but you suppose it isn’t an entirely uncommon name. You furrow your brows as you try to remember exactly where you’ve heard the name. “So, what exactly is in the binder? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Oh, it’s just, uh, work stuff.” You chuckle. “It’s a big client.”

“Big enough to risk your life over?” He asks teasingly, sticking his hands in his pockets.

You laugh softly. “You have no idea.” You shrug off your sweater and lay it over your arm.

“Well, hey, I hope it works out for you,” he admits, pulling open the door for you. You thank him, walking into the cafe.

The two of you order, and despite Taron’s insistence, you pay for his drink. As the two of you sit at a table, you begin to wonder how you got so lucky. Sure, you may have nearly died, but there’s a silver lining to every cloud. You laugh at all his jokes, not because you feel that you have to, but because you actually think they’re funny. It had been a long, long time since you had met someone you saw something in, and it felt as though you and Taron were operating on the same wavelength.

With a quick glance at your watch, you gasp softly and begin to grab your things. “Taron, this has been lovely, truly, but I have to go. I’m so sorry.”

“Where are you rushing to?” He asks curiously as you grab your things.

Shrugging your sweater on, you smile. “My best friend, Izzy, and I go to outdoor movies in the park every Friday. She should be getting there by now.”

“Oh, they’re playing An Affair to Remember tonight, right?” He asks, and you cock your head.

“Yeah, actually. Do you go see them?”

“I used to, a few years back. I haven’t gone in ages.” He admits. You grin, stuffing your binder in your oversized purse.

“Well, hey. If you’re looking to reminisce, you are very welcome to join us.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), I’m not going to be able to make it tonight,” Izzy says apologetically.

“Izzy, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it, okay? Next weekend.” You sigh softly, looking to Taron’s confused face.

“I’m sorry, okay? I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I love you. Bye,” you hang up with a soft sigh and look to the man standing beside you. “So, Izzy isn’t going to make it.” You quirk the corner of your mouth up.

“Oh, damn.”

“Hey, if you want to bail, that’s fine.” You assure, and he makes a playfully offended face.

“I could never.” He teases. He offers you a package of M&M’s and you hold out your hand, clutching onto the candies he pours into your hand.

The two of you listen to the music in silence, waiting for the sky to darken enough for the movie to start. As much as you adore the tradition with Izzy, you’re grateful to have what felt suspiciously like a first date. You look over to Taron and already find his gaze on your face, causing you to blush. He inspects you and you raise a brow, a silent challenge. Instead of saying anything, he shakes his head with a smile and scoots the smallest bit closer to you.

Within moments, the movie is beginning.

“That movie is terrible.” Taron criticizes, and you glare at him, nudging his ribs with your elbow.

“It’s not! It’s one of the most romantic movies of all time.” You defend, and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s such a cop-out. The ending would be so much more impactful if they never ended up together.”

The crowd begins to disperse as the moviegoers began to leave, but you and Taron remained seated on the grass. Your thighs pressed together and your hands rest on the ground behind you to hold up your weight, making you blush every time Taron’s arm brushes against your back.

“I think it’s sweet. I like happy endings.” You admit softly, your gaze resting upon the smooth skin of his face.

“There aren’t always happy endings.” He reminds you, making you roll your eyes, looking away from him.

“So cynical,” you tease, making his shoulders shake lightly as he laughs quietly. He turns to look at you, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe so.” He accepts, his eyes still trained on you. You begin to falter beneath his stare, looking into his bright eyes and allowing your own smile to take root.

The silence is nearly stifling, and you feel his hand move near yours, his fingers brushing over your own. You let out a breath, the anticipation burning in the pit of your stomach. He leans toward you, just slightly, and you subconsciously mirror his movements. He’s only inches away when you hear a voice cutting through the cool air.

“Hey! We think it’s gonna start raining, you might want to pack up.” Your head swings around and you catch sight of a security guard.

You nod and hear Taron’s thanks, mate before the two of you stand, looking to one another. The air is awkward now that you’ve been interrupted, so you laugh softly. “I should go. Thank you, for everything today.”

“It was truly my pleasure, (Y/N).” He assures, and you grin. You purse your lips, looking to him before booking a thumb over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you around?”

You see him narrow his eyes, but he nods, a sweet smirk pulling at his mouth. “Yeah, of course.”

You turn and fight the smile at the thought of him, and you want to roll your eyes for already being enamored by him, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It isn’t until you’re nearly home that you begin to berate yourself for not getting his number.

“So what, you just didn’t ask for his number?” Lewis asks, and you glare at your father’s best friend from across the table.

“No, Lewis, I didn’t.”

“Well, did you at least kiss him?” His wife asks. You purse your lips and avert your eyes to your coffee mug.

“I mean, technically--”

“Come on!” You father cries, making you shake your head.

Saturdays were your designated days to spend with your father. Saturday mornings, anyway. It was hard to get Saturdays off with work, spending most weekend afternoons and evenings with brides touring, tasting, and tailoring. It was busy, and most days physically exhausting, but it was worth it. At least, you seemed to think so.

You roll your eyes and take a sip of your coffee, changing the subject immediately. “Anyway, we’re touring venues today, I’m hoping we can finally pick one and start setting vendors in place.”

“You work too hard,” Katherine scolds, and you smile at her.

“I’m not working too hard, I’m just dedicated.” You shake your head, looking to your father.

“Don’t get yourself too worked up over this wedding, (Y/N/N), or you may actually get hit by a bus. Literally or figuratively.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes playfully, laughing softly under your breath.

There’s a soft knock on the front door and you look over, your brows furrowed in curiosity as your father cries, “Come in!”

The door opens just as you begin to lecture your father. “You cannot just let random people into your house, dad. Do you want to be robbed?”

“C’mon, do you really think I’d rob him?” A familiar voice asks, and you blanch.

“(Y/N), you remember Colin.” Lewis reintroduces his son, and you watch him with wide eyes.

“Uh, yeah, of course.”

How could you possibly forget? You had grown up with him; you’d known him as long as you can remember. Lewis and Katherine’s son was, in a way, your first love. For years, you’d pined over the man. In fact, you still felt your heart race at the sight of him. Colin, however, had been several years older than you and as far as you were concerned, far out of your league.

You stand as he approaches you, reciprocating his actions as he wraps you in a tight hug. “God, you look so different! You look great.” He grips your hips and you allow him to push you away as he looks at you from a distance, gripping his elbows. “Really great.”

“You too,” You breathe, looking up at his face. He flashes a grin and you offer a bashful smile, feeling the heat rise up your neck.

“Can you two get a room?” Lewis teases, breaking you from your reverie. You clear your throat and allow your hands to fall, ignoring Colin’s chuckle from behind you as you turn to face your father. You ignore your burning cheeks, giving a convincing smile.

“Y’know, Colin is single.” Katherine admits, a knowing grin on her face and a playful twinkle in her eyes. You make eye contact with your father, who shrugs and stands to get Colin a cup.

“Thanks, mum. Really.” You hear Colin chuckle. He nudges your arm to get your attention. “We should catch up.” He offers.

Your mind immediately goes to Taron, and though you nearly blush again just at the thought of him, you begin to wonder if you’ll ever even see him again.

“Yeah, totally.” You nod, a friendly smile on your face. You can’t tell if you’re accepting because you’re being polite, or if you actually want to go, but you sigh.

He flashes you a blinding smile before walking to the kitchen to meet your father. You sit at the table, glaring at Katherine and Lewis.

“You did that on purpose.” You accuse. Katherine just shakes her head, taking a sip from her mug.

She had been the only person to know of your childhood crush on her son, and though you had sworn to her for years that it was over, she never fully believed you. You hadn’t seen Colin in about six years, and distance had done you well.

Out of sight, out of mind.

But now, Colin was very much back in your sights. As you peer into the doorway of the kitchen and see him laughing with your father, you wonder if it was in everyone’s best interest that you might pursue a relationship with him. After all, he was still extremely handsome. And kind, a generous person since the time you were young children. It was difficult for you to find fault in him, something you had tried and failed at doing whilst trying to get over him years ago.

You sigh, crossing the table to say your goodbyes to your father’s friends. Gripping your cup, you hesitantly venture to the kitchen to rinse your mug and say goodbye to your father and Colin. You peek in the doorway, catching only a second of their hushed conversation before fully stepping in. Colin catches your eye and grins. Your father twists to look at you.

“Hey, love, you leaving?” He asks, reaching out to take your mug. You hand it to him with a grateful smile and nod.

“Yeah, I’ve got to be at a venue in thirty minutes.” You sigh, hugging your father.

“Hey, (Y/N), can I have a word?” Colin asks softly. You look at your father, offering a soft smile.

“Yeah, for sure.”

You watch your father set your mug in the sink and exit the room awkwardly, a small laugh falling from your lips.

Colin watches you carefully, smiling softly as you turn your attention to him. You push yourself to sit on the counter, looking at him with curiosity in your eyes. “What’s up?” You ask, tapping your fingers on your thigh.

“Would you allow me to take you to dinner?”

You try to hide your shock, but you can’t get out many words, so you say, “What?”

He laughs, loud and warm and you can’t help but smile at the sound. “I want to take you out.” He says again. You shake your head to clear your mind and nod.

“That would be lovely, Colin.” You say. You know now you’re accepting because you want to. As much as you hate to admit it, there are still residual feelings for Colin. He grins, nodding.

“Okay, great. I hope you don’t feel that I’m too eager, but how’s tomorrow night?”

This could not have been described as anything but your childhood dream. You can’t help but break into a smile, sitting up a little taller as he approaches you. “Tomorrow night sounds wonderful.”

“You slut!” Izzy gasps, punching your arm.

You can’t help but laugh, pushing her away from you. “It isn’t that big of a deal,” You assure her. “It’s just Colin.”

“But you didn’t tell me about the other guy. What’s his name? What does he do? Did you get his number?” She pressures, walking beside you. Her voice echoes through the eerily quiet church and you want to scold her for yelling, but you can’t find it in you.

“His name was Taron, I don’t know, and no. And we didn’t even kiss, it was barely a date.” You patiently reply, flipping through the pages on your planner.

“That’s kind of a coincidence.” She mumbles, pulling your purse off your shoulder.

Your eyes remain on the papers before you as you move your arm to give her access to your bag. You don’t bother asking what she’s doing as she rifles through your belongings. “Why?” You ask, finally reaching the page you’ve been searching for. The binder was still a mess, no longer the organized, clean collection you were so proud of. Papers were wrinkled and out of sorts, the pages you had lost reprinted just to be shoved in the front pocket.

“Our groom’s name is Taron.”

You gasp and look up at her. “That’s right! I knew it sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember who it was.”

“We’re finally gonna meet him today.” She reveals, and your eyebrows shoot up. She immediately begins to address the silent question in your eyes. “Well, if you weren’t so busy going to movies with handsome strangers and being asked out by literal brain surgeons--”

“Colin isn’t a brain surgeon.” You scoff, looking up at her through your lashes.

“He’s a surgeon of some sorts, who cares? Anyway, I tried to call you last night and tell you, because Joelle told me when I called to talk about the venues.” She finally finds what she’s looking for, a pack of gum spilled at the bottom of your bag.

“Well, that’s good. It’s not often we get this far in the process without meeting the groom.” You sigh, closing the binder. She hands you a stick of gum, popping her own piece into her mouth.

“Well, Jo said he’s been out of town, right? I guess he just got back a few days ago.” She shrugs, handing you your purse back. You pass her your binder to drop into her tote bag, at which she winces. “Jesus H, this thing is in bad shape.” She breathes, earning a playful glare from you.

“Don’t make me feel worse about it.” You groan. You glance at your watch, and as if on cue, the church door slams open, a breathless Joelle rushing through the door.

“Hey, ladies! Sorry, we got out late. Taron is parking the car, he’ll be here in just a second.” She finally reaches you, her breath heavy.

“Hey, Jo. You guys didn’t have to rush for us.” You say, listening to her laugh in your ear as the two of you embrace.

“Oh, it’s fine. He hates to be late, so no matter what I said, we would have been speeding here.” She giggles, turning to hug Izzy. “We can start without Taron. He’ll find us.” She suggests, and Izzy looks at you with a raised brow.

“That should be fine. Let me go get the pastor, he’ll be giving us our tour.”

You turn on your heel, letting out a breath before looking for the office. Joelle Christiansen was A-list; she was, without a shadow of a doubt, the most high-profile client you had ever had. You had been recommended through a friend of a friend, and every single time you interacted with her, you were desperate to keep her happy. On top of that, you were quite fond of her.

You knock on the door, smiling as John swings it open. “(Y/N)?” He asks, a friendly grin painted on his face.

“Hi,” you reach out a hand to shake his. “It’s so great to meet you. Sorry about the mess with scheduling.” You apologize. He waves a hand to dismiss your worries, closing the door of the office behind himself.

“Don’t worry about it, we don’t get too busy here.”

The two of you make your way back to Joelle and Izzy, the voices echoing off the high ceiling. The pastor reaches his hand out to shake theirs, greetings flying around as everyone introduces themselves. You finally allow yourself to take a breath, with the attention off you. With the pastor in charge, you finally feel at ease.

“Well, let’s start the tour,” he claps. Just as he turns around, the door flies open and all four of you turn to look at the intruder.

For a split second, you’re nearly ecstatic, a smile playing on your lips before you realize what exactly is happening. Izzy’s eyes fly to you, and you lean over.

Taron half-jogs toward all of you, your Taron. You turn to Izzy in a panic; she looks back to you, her face twisted into a silent question.

“That’s him.” You say, the beginnings of a panic attack taking root in your gut.

“Obviously that’s him.” She rolls her eyes, discreetly elbowing your side.

“No, the guy from last night. That’s him!”

“Holy shit.” She whispers, catching everyone’s attention.

“I’m sorry?” The pastor asks, his brow furrowed. Taron begins to chuckle but is cut short as soon as he sees you. He blanches as you glare at him and the sound of Izzy apologizing is quiet to you as you think of the infinite amount of things you wanted to say to him. Your anxiety is replaced with anger and you can’t help but keep your cold stare on him.

“Tar, you okay?” Joelle asks. He averts eye contact to look at his fiancee--the word nearly makes you sick--and flashes the most convincing smile you may have ever seen.

“Yeah, love, I’m fine.” He assures, reaching out to shake Izzy’s hand first. “Taron, nice to meet you.”

He’s too busy introducing himself to the pastor to hear Izzy’s, “Is it?”

He reaches for you last. With a small hesitation, he reaches for your hand. “Taron, hi. You must be (Y/N).” There’s a silent plea in his eyes and you resist the urge to scoff.

“Hi,” you greet curtly, shaking his hand for only a second before dropping it as though it’s burnt you. You spin on your heel to face pastor John. “Right, should we start?”

He begins the tour, the four of you following him nearly silently. Taron and Joelle listen intently as you and Izzy follow from a distance. She sends you a bewildered look, and you mirror her expression; how the hell did you end up here? It’s safe to say you’re in the unventured territory. Izzy was equally overwhelmed, looking between you and Taron.

John rattled on as Joelle and Taron followed, paying close attention to the information he was feeding you all. Taron sends a look back at you, a look that obviously meant something. We need to talk, he mouths before quickly turning back around. You and Izzy shared another look and turned your attention back to the tour.

“Taron, this place is beautiful.” Jo gasps. The tour is just barely over, the four of you standing in the middle of the alter.

“Yeah, it’s quite nice.” He mumbles, the deep Welsh accent echoing off the marble walls. “I just think it may be a bit cold.” He offers. She purses her lips.

“Well, should we move on to the next?” You ask, pulling your binder from Izzy’s bag.

“I think I’m going to run to the restroom, okay?” Joelle asks. You smile curtly, watching her retreat. The three of you watch her wander away, the silence stifling until she turns a corner.

“Can I speak to you?” He asks, sending a pleading look to Izzy. “Alone?”

“Hell no. I’m not leaving.” She snaps. He looks at her with a near pitiful face.

“She knows?”

“Izzy, I’m fine. Give us a minute.” You sigh, pushing her lightly away. She glares at the two of you but meanders away to sit on a pew.

“I am so sorry.” He whispers.

“What is happening? Are you stupid?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You’re engaged? How can you act that way with someone when you’re engaged?” You exclaim. He runs a hand over his face, pinching his bottom lip.

“I hadn’t meant to, not at first. But you’re so lovely, and I just kind of got carried away.” He sighs. A hand reaches out for you, but you pull away.

“You are a literal psychopath.” You take a deep breath before squaring your shoulders. “But this wedding is big for me, okay? So we’re going to pretend we just met, and you’re going to be a helpful groom because if you aren’t, I’ll kick your ass.” You threaten.

He looks at you in shock and opens his mouth to reply. Before he can get anything out, Joelle rushes out from the bathroom. “Okay! Are you ready?”

You turn around with a blinding smile. “Yep! Let’s head on out.”

“It’s been five dates,” Izzy reminds you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“And?”

“And it’s coming! He’s going to ask you soon.”

The two of you walk into the bakery, waving at Joelle and Taron. “No, he isn't. It isn’t that romantic, Iz. And they’re barely dates, we’ve just been catching up.” You sigh, looking over at her. She raises a brow, giving you an incredulous look.

“Then why is he coming today?” She asks, rolling her coffee cup between her hands. “That’s boyfriend shit, (Y/N).”

“He’s just dropping off my laptop.” You defend. The two of you stop a few feet from the table, you in hopes to end the conversation before you sat, and Izzy because she wasn’t ready to give this up.

“Which you left at his house! Plus, you’ve kissed. He’s got a leg up on that one guy.” She says pointedly.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m being honest. Two weeks and five dates, you’re kissing him, and leaving things at his house? This is getting serious.”

“Can we finish this later?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. She nods and walks toward the table, sitting down. You follow, greeting the couple and pulling a pen from your purse.

“Good morning, guys.” You greet, opening your binder to a blank page. “Let’s just jump right into it, yeah?”

“Someone’s feeling productive today,” Joelle notes, her laugh ringing through the air. You laugh, too. Not because you think it’s funny and definitely not because it’s true, but because you want to get as much of this done before Colin got here and you don’t want to have this conversation.

“Well…” you trail off, finally looking up to the pair. Joelle has a friendly smile painted on her face and Taron has a curious brow raised, a silent question. Your gaze lingers for only a second before you look down at your page. “What flavors were each of you thinking?” You ask, looking back up to them.

Taron’s disinterested face watches you as Joelle rattles off a list. You write them as fast as you can, nodding as she continues to speak.

“We’re going to have a lot of guests,” she begins. In your head, you cannot help but say ‘562 guests,’ a thought you had been carrying with you for weeks. 562. “So obviously we’re going to need a lot of it, but I want everyone to have something they want.” You zone out, nodding as she speaks despite the fact that you aren’t listening. Her high-pitched voice echoes through the nearly empty bakery.

“Well, we can sample all of these and you can pick three or four, we can do several cakes or a large tier cake; we can talk about that later, though, so don’t worry about it.” You stand to take the list to the man behind the counter when the bell above the door rings. You turn out of instinct and freeze. “Hey, Iz, you wanna take this up?” You ask rhetorically, offering the list and motioning to Colin.

She turns and makes eye contact before breaking into a mischievous grin. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Hey, Colin!” You greet pitchily, walking toward him. He’s nearly an hour early; he had told you he would be here at ten, but it’s barely a pinch past 9:10. “What are you doing here?” You laugh a little, trying to hide your anxiety.

“Why are you freaking out?” He sing-songs, pulling you into his side. He presses a chaste kiss to your temple and you look up at him.

“I just wasn’t expecting you this early, that’s all,” you whisper in response to his teasing, thanking him as he hands you your laptop.

“The department meeting didn’t last nearly as long as I was expecting. Didn’t think it would be a big deal if I came early. Am I interrupting?”

“No! No, of course not. You’re fine.” You assure.

“(Y/N), who’s this?” Joelle asks playfully. You turn to look at her, a bashful smile on your face.

Colin reaches his hand out for a handshake, gripping Joelle’s hand tightly. “I’m Colin, (Y/N)’s boyfriend.”

Your brow furrows in confusion for only a split second. He reaches for Taron, who watches Colin carefully as they shake hands. “Um, Colin, this is Joelle and Taron.” You introduce, ignoring Izzy’s smug look as she returns to the group.

“It’s just lovely to meet you, Colin.” Joelle winks at you. You roll your eyes playfully. “Would you like to stay with us?” She invites.

You begin to wonder what you’ve done to deserve something like this. Things with Taron were still awkward, to say the least, and even just the few moments Colin has been here had been nearly unbearable. There’s an unmistakable tension in the air, but just a single glance at Jo shows you she’s none the wiser.

“I’d hate to intrude.” He says, looking to you.

After a beat, you realize it’s up to you. You jump. “Oh! Um, you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.” You say, watching him break into a grin.

“Stellar.” He exclaims, pulling up a chair. Taron raises a brow at you, but you become distracted by the comprehensive amount of cake being delivered to your table.

Cake tasting is not nearly as uncomfortable as you’d feared; Colin’s inexplicably charismatic personality had made it easy on you. In fact, you’d barely gotten in any words in between the rambunctious conversation. Taron and Collin had even built some rapport, much to your own surprise. It had been a rather lovely morning, in all honesty.

Cake is long finished and conversation seems to be nowhere near over when Colin’s pager begins to beep loudly. Around the table, faces scrunch in confusion as he pulls it out, sending you an apologetic look. “I just got called in. I’ll call you tonight, yeah?” You nod, a small grin on your face as he leans over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “It was so great to meet you all, but I’ve got to go.”

Joelle’s hands clasped over her chest. “Colin, it was wonderful to have you. I hope to see you soon.”

“Likewise,” Taron nods from across the table. He stands parallel to Colin to shake his hand again, a kind smile gracing his face as they say their goodbyes.

You watch him exit the shop, a nearly-wistful sigh leaving you. “(Y/N)!” Jo squeals, catching your attention. “He is so cute, why didn’t you say anything?” She asks. You chuckle softly, shaking your head.

“It’s kind of new.” You excuse, beginning to pack your things.

“I have to go to a meeting but I’ll call you later, and not just about the cake,” she winks. Izzy chortles from beside you, and even you can’t help the laugh that falls from your lips.

She leaves, sharing a chaste kiss with a quiet Taron before rushing out of the shop.

You and Izzy are talking quietly about which flavors you liked best, starring the ones you thought Joelle enjoyed when Taron speaks up. “I think it’s rich that you chastised me for being in a relationship when you’ve got him.” He grumbles.

You give him a tired look. He looks back, his disinterest gone as he watches expectantly for an answer.

Instead, you say, “It seemed like you liked him.”

“Well, I did.” He’s caught off guard, of which your a little proud. “But that’s not really the point, is it?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve known Colin my whole life, and our first date was days after I met you.” Taron looks a bit embarrassed, so you sigh and backtrack. “We don’t have to fight like this, all the time.”

“Yeah, it’s kind of exhausting.” Izzy cuts in, ignoring your glare.

“Can we just call this a truce?” You say softly, crossing around the table to stand next to him. You hold out your arms to invite him in a hug, giving him a playful smile. He diverts eye contact but grins, holding his arms out as well. You let out an exclamation and hug him tightly, ignoring Izzy’s soft ‘yay!’

“Friends?” He proposes, giving you a squeeze before pulling back.

“Friends.”

“I miss you guys!” Joelle’s voice lilted through the phone.

“We miss you too, love,” Taron says sweetly.

She’d been gone for nearly a week and it happened that she had the smallest bit of separation anxiety. Knowing the three of you were planning without her made her neurotic and phone calls were coming in nearly every hour.

“You’ll be back tonight, in no time,” Izzy assures. Joelle hummed through the phone, her discontent obvious. “What have you guys done since we talked last?” She changes the subject. The three of you can’t help but snicker under your breath.

“Honestly, we haven’t even gotten to the tailor yet.” You say, your eyes attached to the road.

“Are you serious?” She screeches. You raise your brows in surprise, the corner of your lips turning up.

“Well, Jo, you called us last not even an hour ago.” Taron reminds her. There’s a beat of silence and she giggles.

“I suppose you’re right.” She admits. ”I’ll stop calling, I guess. (Y/N), call me tonight and we can go over it all.”

You chuckle, parking your car. “Alright, I’ll talk to you then.”

The four of you say your goodbyes before she hangs up. Taron twists to look at you, his face turned down.

“Don’t look so excited,” Izzy suggests. You giggle, nudging him over the console of your car.

“It won’t be that bad. We’ll be done before you know it.” You assure him, though you weren’t so sure of that yourself. Tux fittings never were so bad for you or Izzy. In fact, you found they were the most relaxing appointments of the entire wedding for you. It was a break from the usually overbearing bride, a time for you to sit and relax. The grooms, however, never much liked them.

The three of you enter the building, immediately greeted by an older man behind the counter.

“We have a fitting for Egerton.” You inform him, turning over your shoulder to look at the ornate tuxedos on mannequins around the shop. As you check in, you turn to look at Taron, his less-than-enthused disposition clouding around him. “Taron, be a big boy.” You cajole, following the man as he leads you to a separate room.

“I don’t want to,” He glowers, causing you to glare at him.

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to deal with it.” You grumble.

You and Izzy fall to sit on the couch across from the mirror, watching the man fidget as he stood before you. He taps his foot impatiently as the three of you waited for his tux, inhaling sharply.

“Dude, why are you flipping out?” Izzy asks, catching his attention. He doesn’t answer.

He lets out a deep breath. You can’t help but stare at him, watching the wrinkles between his brows as he paces the room. He peers over at you and you snap your attention across the room. You’re grateful for the soft knock on the door before it opens to reveal a kind-looking man with Taron’s tux in hand. You let out a soft sigh of relief as he introduces himself.

“Taron? I’m Marcus, nice to meet you, mate.”

“Hi Marcus, pleasure.” Taron smiles. He gestures to the two of you on the couch. “Um, this is (Y/N) and Izzy.”

“Which of you is the bride?” He asks, and you chortle without thought, putting a hand to your lips when you realize how odd you must seem.

“Sorry, neither of us. We’re the wedding planners.” You introduce, ignoring Taron’s look of surprise.

“Ah, lovely. Well, Taron, if you’ll just follow me…”

The door closes behind them as they retreat to a changing room. “Holy shit, you’re a mess.” Izzy giggles.

Your head snaps to her, eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Could you be more obvious? You’re all flirty and the glances are getting weird.”

“Izzy, shut up. We’re friends, it isn’t that big of a deal.” You try to convince both Izzy and yourself.

“I mean, the flirting is pretty toned down when we’re with Jo or Colin, but now there are no barriers and it’s so incredibly obvious that the two of you have feelings for one another.”

You pause, trying to process her words before you open your mouth with your rebuttal. No sooner have your lips parted is the door opening to reveal Taron and Marcus. He holds his arms out, looking to the two of you for a reaction.

“Cute!” Izzy exclaims. However, you inhale sharply, fixated on him. Maybe there was more truth to Izzy’s words than you cared to admit. As he stood before you, you felt your heart beat faster.

He crosses the room to stand before the mirror. “(Y/N)? What do you think?” He stares at himself anxiously in the mirror. You stand, watching as he turns to face you. His jacket remains unbuttoned, revealing his white dress shirt.

Your fingers are working seemingly without your permission, slipping the buttons into their designated places before he turned back to face himself in the mirror. You rest a gentle hand on his back, so light he can barely tell it’s there. “I think you look very dashing.” You admit. He breaks into a grin, looking into your eyes through the mirror. “The legs are a hair too long, but that’s a simple fix.”

“Okay, fantastic. I’ll go change then?” He says softly, eyes still locked with yours. His smile is long gone, so the two of you stand silently for a beat before you clear your throat.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

They retreat yet again, leaving you alone with your best friend. You turn to her with a grimace.

“Oh, you are so fucked.”

“Bye, Izzy. We’ll see you in a few days.” Taron says, waving at her from the rolled down window of your car.

“Bye, guys.” She calls from over her shoulder, walking into her building.

You let out a soft sigh, shifting the car into drive and relaxing into your seat as you began the route to Taron’s.

“So, how’s Colin?” He asks, fiddling with his own fingers. You glance over at him before clearing your throat.

“H-he’s good, I guess.” You shrug. You’re unusually nervous around him after the fitting, and he feels it too. He’s much less playful; the atmosphere in the car is nearly stifling.

“You guess?” He asks, twisting to face you in his seat.

“I haven’t really talked to him today.” You admit.

“What’s the deal with him, anyway? Like, this handsome, charming, doctor man? I’d like to know how this came to be.” He says honestly. He’s watching you intently, waiting for you to crack. You fear you might do just that.

You blow a raspberry jokingly, causing him to chuckle. You glance at him again, watching you and waiting for the story, so you shrug. “I’ve known Colin for my whole life. My dad is best friends with his parents. I guess Colin was my what if.”

“Your ‘what if?’” He asks curiously, cocking his head to the side.

“Yeah. You know, that one person you know you’d never be with, but you can’t get over them, so you just think about them all the time and think of all these scenarios even though you know there’s no chance.” You ramble. You look to him for confirmation. He doesn’t say anything but the look on his face is enough to tell you he understands.

“If you never thought you’d be with him and now you are, why are you going days without speaking to him?”

The question catches you off guard and you narrow your eyes. “I guess it’s just not what I thought it would be.” It’s the first time you’ve said it, and you can’t believe it was to Taron, of all people. “I mean, I’ve created this version of him in my head but it isn’t like him at all. That’s not to say he isn’t wonderful, but it’s not what I thought it would be.”

There’s a pregnant pause as you park in front of his building. You look over at him, gazing as he stares out the windshield.

“I don’t know if I can marry Joelle.” He says softly. You gape at him, reaching across to grasp his arm.

“Taron, what are you talking about?”

“I--” He takes a deep breath, groaning at the exhale. “I wouldn’t feel good about marrying a woman when I have feelings for someone else.”

He looks at you pointedly, staring into your wide eyes. You let go of his arm, turning back to face forward in your seat. It’s what your subconscious has dreamt of hearing. You’ve wanted the confirmation, wanted to know he’s jealous of Colin, wanted to know he wanted you. But you can’t accept it; you know it’s wrong, no matter how much it pains you to talk him out of it.

“You have to marry Joelle.”

“Why? Because we already reserved the venue?” He scoffs. “I love Joelle, but I have never felt like this about her.”

You turn toward him once again. “I hope you know I adore you. But I respect Joelle far too much for anything like this to happen. If I have to keep my distance, I will, but you have to go through with this. You and Joelle were meant to be.” The words sound like a lie coming out of your mouth, but he nods anyway.

“If that’s how you feel.” He says quietly. He opens his door and gets out, facing you one last time. “Have a good evening.”

Before you can answer, the door is closed, he’s walking up his steps, and your phone is ringing. You take a deep breath before answering with a fake smile. “Hey, Col. I can’t talk long, I’ve got to call Joelle in a little bit.”

Things were back cold with Taron and you, avoiding contact with one another at any given opportunity. Izzy had to become a human buffer between the two of you, much to her chagrin. With Joelle back in town tonight, you were praying for things to return to normal, or as close as you could get to it. Your phone call with Colin can’t be over soon enough. You’re feeling guilty and more conflicted than ever about your relationship; it’s the same reason you’re dreading the call with Joelle, but you’d rather get it over with than deal with her questions tomorrow.

You’re settling onto the couch with a glass of wine and a blanket when you call, ready to get it over with so you can laze and watch a movie. She picks up immediately, a sniffle audible over the line.

“Jo?”

“Hey, (Y/N),” she says, her voice thin.

“Jo, are you okay?” You ask, sitting up straighter. You hear another sniffle and your face wrinkles in concern. Your mind can’t help but turn to Taron. Had he broken up with her? Was she even home yet?

“Um, I don’t know.” She whispers honestly.

“What’s wrong? Do you want to come over?”

She laughs despite herself, shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. But I’m glad you called.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m on my way home, and I realized I don’t want to go.” She says softly. “I mean, I had to pull over. I literally cannot go back, (Y/N).” She breathes. For the first time, you notice her car running softly in the background.

It’s unlike you to pry, but she said she needed to talk to someone, so you ask, “Why?” What else could you ask?

She takes a deep breath. There’s hesitation, but she starts. “I was dreading being away from Taron this week. Seriously, I was sick over it. And then I was away, and...I don’t know how to explain it. It was so relaxing. Can you believe that? My business trip was relaxing. I love Taron, but being alone was--” She collects herself. “I kept calling because I thought if I spoke to him, I would miss him again, but I didn’t.”

Your heart soars for a moment before you frown. “Jo…”

“I know. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t know if I can do this.” She groans.

You lean back into the couch in silence. What are you meant to say? Break up with him? You couldn’t. Not if you tried. “Jo, are you sure you aren’t just getting cold feet?” You suggest,

“I don’t think so.”

“You two are made for each other.” This is as close as you get to begging, your voice a little softer as you try to reason with her.

She doesn’t say anything for a few moments and momentarily, you wonder if she’s hung up on you. You’re about to check when she says, “Have you noticed the way he watches you?”

You feel like you’ve been kicked in the chest. You had sworn whatever had happened between you and Taron before tonight had been buried and that the two of you were acting normally. “What?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “It’s like he’s watching over you. Like if anything came within ten feet of you, he’d lose it. He’s never looked at me that way.” She says softly.

“Maybe he’s just really passionate about the binder.” You attempt to lighten to air, successful for a moment.

She chuckles. “Maybe I am just getting cold feet.”

You breathe a silent sigh of relief. “Are you going to go home?”

“Yes.” She affirms. “Thank you.”

Instead of accepting her thanks, you say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

She hangs up and you lean back into your couch. A heavy sigh falls from your lips and you dial Izzy’s number.

“Hey, (Y/N/N).”

“Hey, Iz. You busy?”

“I’m already out of the door.”

“Thank god.” You breathe.

“What’s up?” You hear her keys jingle and her front door shut behind her.

“You’ll never believe this.”

Just over a week. It was just over a week until the most important wedding of your life, and you couldn’t have been more relieved.

Today was a rare day off, full of sleeping in and watching television with Colin. Izzy was meeting with Joelle and Taron this morning for some final touches, locking in details before giving them the rest of the week off. Izzy agreed that you needed the week off as well, nearly forcing you to take the following days off.

Lying in bed, you couldn’t have been more grateful to her. The TV is already on and you can hear Colin fumbling around in the kitchen, murmuring to himself. You smile softly, swinging your legs over the side of your bed and stretching with a heavy groan. Colin had been quick to find your spare key and wasn’t shy about using it; when you woke up to breakfast, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

You pad to the kitchen, grinning as you hear him singing under his breath. Briefly, you wonder if Taron sings when he cooks breakfast, or if he ever cooks, but just the thought of him makes you anxious, so you shake him out of your head and enter the kitchen, catching Colin’s attention.

“Ah, you are just in time.” He praises, pulling two plates down from your cupboards.

“Am I?”

“Very much so, dear.” He dishes your plate, handing it to you with a grin. You set it on the table, grabbing glasses and filling them.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He confesses, sitting across from you at the table.

“Oh really?” You ask, beginning to eat. You watch him with a soft smile until you notice how serious he’s become. Your brow furrows and you lean toward him, setting your fork down. “Colin?”

“You know how much I care for you, right?” He asks, reaching to grip your hand softly.

“Of course. What’s going on?”

“I think we should end this,” He admits, catching you off guard.

“I’m--Colin, I don’t--” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. “Did I do something?”

He smiles sadly, shaking his head. “No, of course not.”

“Then where is this coming from?” You ask, slightly disgruntled.

“You don’t love me, (Y/N),” He says softly. He exits his chair to squat in front of you, your fingers still entwined.

“No, I do! Colin, I do.” You try to convince him, getting down to his eye level.

How could this possibly happen? You swore things with Colin were going perfectly. You thought you loved one another. You thought it was getting serious.

“Maybe you do, but you couldn’t love me like you do Taron.”

You’re taken aback by his words. First Joelle, and now Colin? Admittedly, you and Taron had gotten close and you spoke about, maybe in excess, but you were sure it seemed friendly. But as you stare into Colin’s melancholy eyes, you almost feel sick.

“I don’t love him.” You lie, shaking your head heavily.

“You do. And that’s fine; I think we both knew this was too good to be true.” He says softly, dropping your hand to cup your face, his thumb rubbing lightly under your eye.

Behind your eyes, stings and your throat feels dry as a tear falls from your eye to his thumb. “I’m sorry, Colin.”

“It’s okay, (Y/N/N).”

Your eyes close, reveling in his touch. After all, you knew this would be the last time.

“We’re not getting married.”

The words make Izzy choke on her tea, groaning when she feels it shoot up her nose.

“I’m sorry, what?” She inquires, staring across the table at the pair. She feels like a child with separated parents, but they could still pass as a couple when they look at one another with knowing smiles.

“Izzy, you and (Y/N) have been so amazing throughout this process and I genuinely consider you my good friends,” Joelle assures.

“But,” Taron’s voice cuts in and captures Izzy’s attention, “we want different things. This is very mutual, and we still love one another, but getting married is not the right move for us.”

“You guys are still getting paid, so don’t worry--”

“I’m not worried about the payment! I’m worried about you.” Izzy exclaims, looking into Joelle’s concerned eyes. “I mean, you guys seemed so happy. Where did this come from?”

Again, a knowing look is shared between the two across from her. Joelle’s smooth, small hand reaches across the table to grip Izzy’s with a soft smile akin to a mother’s.

“It’s been a long time since I was alone. I forgot how good I am at it, how much I like it. As for Taron…” she trails off, her left eye dropping into a wink. Izzy’s eyes narrow as she looks at the man, who gives her a bashful smile, his hands releasing one another and thrown up as if to say, ‘what can I tell you?’ “I think they’re much more suited for another than he and I ever have been.” She admits.

Izzy’s head is spinning, unable to wrap her mind around the information being thrown at her.

“She told you?” Izzy asks softly. “(Y/N) told you?”

“Told me what?” He inquires, the wrinkles between his brows appearing.

“That she’s in love with you.”

“She’s in love with me?” He gapes. Izzy’s mouth forms an O, a hand coming up to cover it.

“I told you!” Joelle squeals excitedly, punching Taron’s arm.

“She didn’t tell you?” Izzy groans, her hands on her cheeks.

Taron stands, a confident smile tugging at his lips. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me.” He shrugs on his jacket. He looks at Joelle with a nostalgic smile before squeezing Izzy’s shoulder and rushing through the doors.

There’s only a beat of silence before Izzy turns to Joelle and offers, “This must be terribly uncomfortable for you.”

Joelle only shakes her head, a wistful smile on her lips as she stares at the doors.

The knock on your front door is the first thing to get you off your couch. You can barely move. First Colin, then Joelle? This was meant to be a relaxing day off. Instead, you feel as though your world may be collapsing. Despite Jo’s assurances that she couldn’t have been less upset, that she still loves you, you feel sick.

You swing the door open to reveal your best friend. “Did you hear?” She asks in lieu of a greeting.

“I just got off the phone with her.”

“Holy shit!” She exclaims, pushing past you to get into your apartment. “Hey, where’s Colin?”

You wince softly, shrugging. “We broke up.”

Izzy gapes at you. “Why?”

“Because he thinks I’m in love with Taron.” You groan, dropping onto the couch yet again.

“You are.” She reminds you, earning a glare from you. She sits beside you, rubbing your back comfortingly. “You know what will make you feel better?”

“Dying?” You ask facetiously, the eye roll from Izzy glaringly obvious.

“The park is playing About Time tonight.”

Despite yourself, you can’t help but gasp. “Really?”

“You wanna go?”

The park is less than crowded tonight, which means the two of you get a great spot, the thick blanket laid over the grass less than five rows from the front. It’s a much-needed distraction from the hot mess that is your life at the moment.

“Are you going to call Taron?” Izzy asks, the two of you ignoring the previews.

You sigh softly, picking at the grass near your hand. “I don’t know. I’m afraid it’s too soon.” You admit, turning to face her.

“Are you kidding? This dude canceled his wedding for you, I don’t think it’s soon enough.”

You groan, your head falling back. “Don’t remind me. I mean, I guess--”

“(Y/N!)”

The Welsh accent calls through the park, echoing over the heads of the patrons. Izzy’s head snaps toward you, a grin spreading over her face. “I don’t think he thinks it’s too soon.”

You spin around, but can’t see him. The sky is dark, making it difficult to see anything behind you. You’re straining your eyes to find him as he continues to call your name until Izzy slaps your calf. You look down at her, twisting when she gestures toward the screen.

There he stands, smack in the middle of the screen. Taron’s voice is still reverberating around the field and you can’t help but laugh when those around you begin to call your name. “Go over there, dude!” Izzy cries, reaching to push you toward him.

You take a hesitant step, enough movement to catch his attention. He doesn’t say anything, just watching as you speed to get to him. Within seconds, you’re standing before him. The two of you stand in front of one another for only a moment before your arms are thrown around his neck, his wrapped tightly around your waist. “Did Joelle tell you?” He asks, and you can only nod against him. “I don’t even care about Colin, (Y/N). Marry him, for all I care. But I want you to know I love you.”

“Colin and I are done. Because I’m in love with you.”

A face-splitting grin overtakes him and he pulls you closer, leaning down until your lips are connected. You lean into his body, the passion behind the kiss causing you to wobble. His lips work against yours, a hand raising from your waist to your face, caressing your skin gently. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours with a sigh of relief. You grin, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Maybe you aren’t so cynical after all.”

#taron egerton #taron egerton imagine #Taron Egerton imagines #Taron Egerton x reader

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pinesconessecrets · 6 years ago

Text

Ice to Meet You

Merry Christmas @ladynightmare12 ! I hope you enjoy the fic!! <: I had a lot of fun with the soulmate AU, since it’s something I’ve always enjoyed. I combined it with the first meetings AU too. Have a great Christmas! <3

****

Wirt had given up on trying to find his soulmate when he was thirteen. He still remembered the conversation that came after he mentioned it to his mom. She had choked on her tea, wheezing until she’d managed to regain control of herself again. Then began the spiel about, “Oh, sweetie. You’ll meet her at some point in your life, don’t give up now!” and Wirt just sighed. Internally, of course. He didn’t want to upset his mom any further. A good bit of everyone in his grade had found their soulmate, leaving Wirt feeling terribly alone. Sara tried to comfort him, except she ran into her soulmate a few months later; it was some guy named Brian. That was a fun day.

He was a little more than relieved to graduate high school, which meant moving away to a college in a different state. A college in Oregon had caught his eye and he applied, half expecting to get denied. But lo and behold, the college actually accepted him and even had a full ride scholarship too.

Greg was against Wirt moving across the country when he broke the news. Wirt reassured him that he would call every day and keep in touch. He wouldn’t be left out just because Wirt didn’t live in the same house anymore.

Wirt enjoyed the trip to Oregon. His parents rented a small u-Haul for the stuff Wirt could take to put in his dorm. He was lucky enough to score a single person room, complete with his own bathroom. He didn’t think he could have managed if he had to share a dorm and a bathroom, much less having to suffer from public bathrooms.

They made the drive out to be like a mini vacation, taking their time since they left a few days early. Wirt’s nerves almost got the best of him a few times, the realization of him living somewhere that wasn’t with his mom and stepdad. Thankfully Greg managed to quickly distract him before he grew too anxious, eerily able to quickly figure out when his nerves were beginning to act up.

With the help of everyone, it didn’t take long before Wirt’s room was set up. He still had a few things to tweak here and there, like moving his desk closer to the window and hanging up his poems on the walls. He didn’t have much time to be particularly picky about how his room was set up with his parents and brother around.

They stayed in town for a few days, exploring the place with Wirt in tow. It definitely was a college town considering the absurd amount of fast food restaurants around. Like seriously, who needed this many fast food places? At least there were a few cafes for Wirt to hang out in. Cafes were pretty sweet places to chill at and they had a great effect on Wirt when it came to writing poetry. He was excited about that.

Tears were shed by his mom and Greg on the day they had to leave. Greg made Wirt promise to call him every day, and that was a rock fact. Wirt lingered in the parking lot for a bit longer than he intended, staring off into space before letting out a long sigh. He hoped he would be able to survive the semester before Christmas break. His next adventure in life had begun, only to bring challenges he had no way to prepare for.

Wirt got to studying diligently when the semester began. The majority of his classes were the core classes every freshman were required to take, including math. Thank god that he only needed to take two semesters of it due to his major in English. Math was one of his most detested classes; it was the worst. Maybe he was being overly dramatic, but Wirt would rather prefer to listen to someone scrape their nails on a chalkboard repeatedly for hours than be stuck in math class for even an hour. The entire point was above him, and the fact that other kids were majoring in math just blew his mind. They were to be feared.

The semester started out slow but picked up steam as the weeks went on. Midterms came and went, letting Wirt breathe a sigh of relief when his passing grades were posted.

He video called Greg before he went out trick or treating on Halloween, both happy and mortified that Greg decided to go as a garden gnome. Their trip to the Unknown was still very present in their minds years after it happened. At least now it was easier to deal with, and they didn’t have to worry about being sent into a fit of panic when winter rolled around anymore. Wirt admitted that Greg wore the outfit far better than he did, earning a protest of “No, you wore it better!” from Greg. They bickered back and forth until their mom told them to knock it out or else Greg wouldn’t be getting any candy that year. That shut Greg up and he hastily told Wirt goodbye and that he’d show him how much candy he got before going to bed.

Wirt found himself growing progressively more stressed as the end of the semester rolled around. His professors shoved study guides down their student’s throats and made it very clear that passing their finals would make or break their grades. Wirt found himself spending more and more time at his favorite cafe. He would have been surprised that he hadn’t drunk all of their tea if he wasn’t so stressed about passing his finals.

A week before finals, the unthinkable happened.

Wirt was on his way to the Jasmine Brew Cafe, lost in thought about his upcoming math final. It was the one he dreaded the most, and rightfully so. Other students in his class struggled as much as he did. The professor didn’t know how to break down the lesson so other kids could understand what he was trying to teach. Wirt barely managed to understand what the heck he was talking about most the time, and he hoped it would be enough.

Of course, the dork was so lost in thought that he wasn’t watching where he was walking. His foot made contact with frozen ice on the sidewalk, causing him to slip and fall down to the pavement. Wirt miraculously held onto his notebooks, laying on his back, winded from his fall.

Someone with unruly brown hair peered down at him with a look of mild concern. Wirt wished he could turn invisible because he knew that everyone around him saw what just happened.

“Hi there. It’s ice to meet you finally.” The other boy paused, before continuing. “I hope that’s not weird? I’ve seen you around campus before and I noticed you were always alone and I was going to say hi but I always got distracted and oh my god I’m sorry I’m kinda rambling. I tend to do that a lot and my sister always punches me and yep I’m gonna shut up now.”

Wirt’s wrist burned. That was what his stupid soulmate mark said. ‘Hi there, it’s ice to meet you finally.’

He wanted to say something witty back, but all that could come out of his mouth was, “Was that a motherfucking pun?” He rarely cussed, but dangit he was sleep deprived and angry that he was stupid enough to fall and slip on ice.

The other boy blanched, his extended hand frozen in shock. Wirt shuffled to his feet, clutching his notebooks to his chest. An awkward silence enveloped the two, only to be broken by the other boy.

“Do you want to go somewhere warm? Get some coffee or something?”

Wirt broke free of his surprise. “Uh, um, sure. I was heading to the Jasmine Brew Cafe to get some studying done. It’s right up the street here.”

“Cool. I’ve only been there once or twice, so lead the way.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at Wirt expectantly.

“Right.” Wirt turned on his heels and began walking to the cafe, fidgeting with the spiral of a notebook. He knew that he was probably acting slightly like a jerk. Okay, a lot like a jerk. He had spent the majority of his teenage years resenting the idea of soulmates, knowing he’d never find his and that he’d live the rest of his life alone. But look what happened. He ran into his soulmate.

The rush of warm air made Wirt feel grateful for heating, heading to his usual spot by the wall. He sat with his back to the wall, and a large window to his left. Being able to look out into the street helped declutter his mind.

He almost relaxed, until the other boy - his soulmate - slid into the chair across from him. He looked as nervous as Wirt was.

“I’m Dipper, by the way. I don’t think I introduced myself yet.”

“Wirt. It’s um, nice to meet you, I guess,” he mumbled, his awkwardness hitting him like a fricking train. Now that the fact that yep, him finding his soulmate was a thing, was starting to sink in, a feeling of panic also begun to set in too.

“Hey, are you okay? You look like you’re freaking out there a little. I mean, I’m kinda freaking out too, but that’s because I’m super pumped to have finally run into my soulmate.” Dipper looked giddy almost.

Wirt chewed on a nail. “Y-yeah, I’m okay. It’s just… I gave up on finding my soulmate years ago, so I never thought I would actually run into them. I hope you don’t think I’m a jerk or anything because oh my god I feel so bad for being cold to you.”

When Dipper was silent, Wirt looked up to find him holding back a snicker. With the biggest shit eating grin, Dipper replied, “Was that a motherfucking pun?”

“Oh my god.” Wirt groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Do not use my own words against me.”

“Kinda hard to considering they’re right here.” Dipper rolled his sleeve back, revealing the words scrawled across his arm. God, they were even in Wirt’s own handwriting. How crazy was that?

Wirt reached out to touch the words on Dipper’s arm, stopping short once he realized what he was about to do. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know it’s a lot to take in. But I don’t mind if you wanna take a closer look at them.” His voice was quiet.

Figuring that he may as well roll with the punches, Wirt pulled his own sleeve back, exposing Dipper’s godawful pun written on the inside of his forearm. Dipper didn’t hesitate before running his fingers over Wirt’s pale skin, tracing the scratchy letters of his own handwriting. It looked different from his own, his letters rushed and hurried versus the flowing loops of Wirt’s.

Wirt finally caved and traced the words on Dipper’s arm. The two dorks sat in silence, no words needing to be exchanged as they let the importance of the day truly sink in.

The corners of Dipper’s mouth quirked up in a grin after a while. “So, did you wanna get a coffee and chat? And maybe tell me how you’ve bean all these years.”

Wirt had a feeling the puns weren’t ever going to stop.

#Pinescone #Pinescone Secret Santa #Pinescone Secret Santa 2018 #Wirt #Dipper #OTGW #GF #submission

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katherinethedork · 6 years ago

Text

Telle. Pt 4/? (p.p. x reader)

Word Count/ Warnings: Swearing, flufff, battle, Peter being the best, if you squint you may see some angst, ~3k THIS ONES A LONG ONE

Summary: Telle has returned bitches.

A/N: bitCH I’M BACK. Once again I am sosososoososo sorry for taking forever to get these parts out, writers block blah blah blah, you read it in the last A/N. I’m not exactly the most happy with this part, but the next one (I’ve already written it you just have to wait muahahahah) will be a lot better I swear. Also, sorry this ended at an awkward spot also, I ran out of room :/

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, MASTERLIST

****

You woke up with bright white lights hitting your face. As soon as you opened your eyes, it hurt to look up, so you closed your eyes and turned your head to the side. You heard a faint beeping from the side you were turned to, so you slightly opened your eyes, not letting in the harsh light that stung your eyes. Through the blur you saw something that looked like it was watching your heart rate and a multitude of their things. You turned your head to the other side and saw a couple other machines. An IV drip that was also stationed near, was connected into your arm. When you looked down at the rest of your body, you saw a white fleece blanket covering most of it, but the pajamas you had worn a couple nights ago were covering the parts that weren’t under the blanket. You had gotten slightly used to the light so you decided to fully open your eyes. The harsh light invaded your senses, but eventually you took control of it and got rid of the feeling. You decided that you needed to move some sort of muscle, so you choose your arm. You lifted your arm, carrying the IV drip with it. It hurt slightly to move it, like you were sore or something.... holy shit.

The memories of fighting off thugs, getting half shot, being carried to the tower, and kissing Peter all came back to you. Your body is immediately sent into panic mode. You try to make yourself sit up and see the rest of the room, but your muscles ache like you had just fought off thirty men. You powered through the ache anyways and sat up to see a clearly sleep deprived Peter. He was sitting in a chair at the end of your bed and you guessed that he had been zoning out for a long time, so he didn’t notice your movements. You study his face. It was completely slathered with concern and worry. You didn’t know how long you were out, but you could tell it was a long time from the bags under Peter’s eyes. His outfit was the same from the last you saw him, which you assumed wasn’t good. Peter’s hair had been thrown around, most likely from him running his hand through it out of stress. His curls were strewn across his forehead as he looked at the floor. He slowly shuffled his hands as he looked up at you. His face changed from concern and worry to a slightly less concerned face that was more covered by surprise and relief.

“Y-Y/N?” Peter says standing up and slowly walking over to you, as if you could collapse back into sleep if he stepped too loudly.

“Hey Pete.” Your voice cracks out, an unconscious grin forming on your face.

“I-I thought you were gonna get up earlier. When you didn’t get up by midnight I started to worry and I stayed up all night making sure you were okay and-“ Peter says before you cut him off with your groggy morning voice.

“Wait. What time is it?” You ask him.

“Uhm it’s about,” Peter says pulling out his phone and checking the time, he sighs at whatever the time is on his phone,“12:03 p.m.”

“Like the next day?!” You start to panic, your parents must be wondering where you were now, you try and look around for your phone, which was nowhere to be seen. Your parents must be spamming your phone with calls and texts. They might’ve even called the police! You start to shuffle around to maybe get off the bed, but it hurt too much. They must be-

“Yeah. It’s the next day,” Peter clearly saw the panic on your face and he changes his tone to a more reassuring one, “Y/N don’t worry, I went to your house and talked to your parents. I said that your phone died and you are at my house for the night and need some pajamas.” He gestured to your shirt and pants, “I called them a while ago and said that we were also going out with Ned and MJ today, so they wouldn’t see us until maybe eight or nine tonight. You’re fine, they trust us.”

You sign out of relief and collapse onto the bed. You jut sit there for a second while Peter chuckles at you. You calm your mind down and sit back up. “So what are we doing until then?” You ask, hoping for some random activity that will get your mind off of the probably scabbed and stitched injury on your side.

“Oh. Oh wait, I was supposed to call Mr. Stark when you woke up. Sorry. Are you okay to have him come? I won’t call him if you’re not okay with it.” Peter says, you thank him internally for being such a sweetheart and asking if you’re okay with this.

“Yeah. Might as well. Make sure I’m not dying again and such.” You say sitting up and fixing your hair.

“Oh yeah. Not dying. That stuff,” Peter says, putting a hand on the back of his neck, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you call Mr. Stark and say that Y/N is awake, please?” God this boy’s manners. Even to a robot he’s still a sweetheart.

“I have alerted Mr. Stark of Y/N being awake.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responds.

“Thank you.” Peter says looking up at the ceiling, (thanking F.R.I.D.A.Y. you guess?) “Well, Y/N it’s not just about you being alive... we might want you to join our team.”

“Wait WHAT?” You yell, “you want me to-“

Tony Stark entering the room cuts you off. You whip your head around and see him. This is the second most weird thing that has ever happened to you. First place is beating up bad guys. But this takes the second place cake. Mr. Stark walks in wearing a regular t-shirt and jeans, you presume he was working on something, because any other time that you had seen him, it was in a suit.

He looks at Peter first and then looks at you and sighs a bit. Wonderful. Tony Stark is exasperated because of you. You want to say something but you feel like you physically can’t. Your brain is formulating what to say but none of the options are good. This living legend is standing in front of you, and you’re sitting there gawking at him. You close your mouth and turn to Peter looking for some kind of help, but Tony starts talking so you whip your head back over.

“That was quite a stunt you pulled off there kid,” he says as he leans against the door frame, “but it didn’t quite turn out too well now did it.”

You hang your head in shame and then look back up. “I just... you are.... the coolest....” you say, trailing off, still not knowing what words to use for whatever next you were going to say.

“Look. We’ve been watching you for a while, and we’d like to have you train with us. Maybe you can go on some missions with Peter, meet the team, and other things.” Tony says standing back up straight and walking closer to your bed, between the door and Peter, “We’d love to have you, and I’m sure you’d like to actually use your powers for things that weren’t just laundry or something.”

You think about this for a second, dumbfounded. But hold on. You cock your head to the side and think, wait they’ve been watCHING ME?

“Back up, back up, you’ve been watching me?” You say sitting up even straighter and setting a concerned face on, “How long have you been watching me?”

I mean, you were kind of honored to be watched by Tony Stark and Peter because of your powers, but that was beside the point, how long had they known and who’s been watching?

“Um, well it’s been a couple months-“ Tony answers before you cut him off.

“A couple months! I’ve only known I’ve had these powers for three months!” You say, confused and angry, “How did you even find out?” You end in a whisper. You thought you had kept this a secret so well. You never told Peter, who was your best friend since you moved here at the beginning of highschool. He was the closest person to you, and you told him almost everything. Your parents didn’t even know either, and you were with them a good portion of the day most times. You had tried your hardest, but you hadn’t succeeded in this one. You should’ve just told Peter earlier. If you had you might’ve already been on the team right now! Oh well. That’s not what you want to do right now, you just want to figure out how they found out about your powers.

Peter started to speak, “Well, I found out pretty fast because you were acting weird and you started hanging out with me less. And when we did hang out one time, I saw you grab a cup without even touching it. You pulled it toward you with a purple mist around your hands, eyes, and cup. I was just so confused that I didn’t say anything and immediately went to talk to Mr. Stark after I had left. I was sure he had some sort of answer. He told me to keep an eye on you and he’d look out. So it wasn’t that we were constantly watching you,” Peter said, shifting in his seat and rubbing the bags under his eyes, “it was just that I kept eye on you and told Mr. Stark if I saw anything suspicious. I didn’t even know you could teleport!

“We were waiting until tomorrow to actually talk about joining the team or anything, but as soon as the men came into our school and you fought them off, Mr. Stark and I decided while you were asleep to ask you about it when you woke up.” Peter says smiling at you, “So here we are now.”

“And now we’re asking you.” Tony says, “would you like to be on our team.”

Tony says it more like a statement and that confuses you. You hesitate to answer and think about the repercussions. You would come home at night like Peter does. Bruised and bloody. How would you make up those excuses if you were both getting injured. You didn’t even have a suit! At least you could help protect the city and Peter. And you could help the Avengers. The Avengers. Wow. Tony said you’d probably get to meet the team. That would be exciting, you were as much of a fan as Peter was, so it would be interesting to meet them. Tony noticed your hesitation and he clarified the statement for you.

“Kid, it’s not really a choice for you. We need someone on the team like you and I’m sure you want to help others if you’re like Spiderling over here.” As Tony says that last part, Peter looks down at his shoes and you see a blush quickly crawl up his neck onto his face.

“You put your life on the line for your school. I’m sure you hate some of the people there, but you still did your best to protect them. That takes balls, kid.” You laugh at his statement and start to feel less stress, “now I just need a yes or a no. Would you like to be a part of our team.” Tony says staring at you intently, Peter gazing and grinning at you with complete excitement because he knows you well and knows your answer to this question.

The room falls silent as the two wait for an answer from you. “Yes. I would love to.”

****

“So here’s my lab,” Tony says as you step into the threshold of the coolest room you had ever been in. Your eyes darting around from project to project splayed around the room. Your eyes finally land on another person who you had vaguely recognized from a distance. “And that is Doctor Banner. Bruce, Y/N. Y/N, Bruce” Tony gestures between the two of you.

Your eyes light up as soon as soon as you hear the name, you knew he was the Hulk and that was fucking amazing, but this man was a revolutionary scientist that you looked up to, along with Tony. Your two biggest idols were standing in one room with you and Peter. You could scream. You looked at Peter, he was already staring at you, but you just give him a look that says holy shit you know that I love these people.

Dr. Banner waves and mumbles a “Hello” with a smile and you blurt out, “You are like legitimately the coolest scientist ever!” You immediately shame yourself for blurting this out, but in your opinion, he was the coolest scientist ever.

All three of the men in the room laugh while you sit there in your embarrassment, smiling through the slight pain. “Thank you very much. It was nice to meet you.” Dr. Banner says back.

Tony puts his arm around your shoulder and starts talking emphatically, “He is the coolest. He saved your life.”

You gasp and blurt again, “Ohmygodthankyousomuch. You are really the coolest.” Everyone in the room laughs again and Mr. Stark and Peter start to guide you to a different section of the lab where there is a door to a hallway.

When all three of you walk down the hallway, you are met with a glass room with glass doors. Inside you can see a multitude of suits, some scrapped, and some still in the making. There is one gray tube on the side that looks like it can be opened to showcase something.

Tony pushes open one door and holds it open for both you and Peter. You both quietly thank him as you both take in what’s going on around you. The room was organized chaos. It had so much going on but it was all where it should be. Tony leads you over to the gray tube that was sticking out to you before.

“Alright. So, you don’t really have a suit. Anymore I mean. And your suit was made poorly and not suitable for joining our team. When Peter gave me the torn suit that you had used for yesterday’s battle, I tried to recreate something like it. But better, obviously.” You rolled your eyes at his statement (and pun) but you were to filled with excitement and anticipation to care.

“Here is your new suit!” Tony says with a flourish, and the sealed doors of the gray tube open up. Your jaw drops to the floor as you look at your newer and sleeker version of your original suit. It did look better.

Your suit had the same general look about it. White except for the ‘T’ shape that was a thick line across the top of your chest, the bottom of the ‘T’ leading into black shorts that cut off into the rest of your pants that were white. Tony changed the Go Go boots for just attached white all the way down, and attached shoes like the spider suit. Tony even gave you a white hood that connected to the rest of the suit. You were filled with happiness. It looked just how you wanted. You couldn’t wait to try it on.

“I hope you like it kid. I spent all of my free 18 hours that you were asleep to make this using scraps I found around here, so treat it well.” Tony says crossing his arms.

“Yes sir.” You say running through what he just said to you, then you had an idea, “Mr. Stark sir, uh can I take it down?” You ask.

“Of course. Now I’m going to leave, because I have things to do and you both seem okay. Peter,” Tony says turning to the boy, “You know how to get her out of here, get her some food or something.” Tony says and winks at Peter. Peter immediately blushes and mumbles something you can’t hear.

Tony leaves and you turn to Peter with the biggest smile on your face. He looks at you and immediately starts smiling too. Out of nowhere your body decides to attack him with a hug, almost knocking him down in the process. Luckily, he realizes what happening and wraps his arms around your waist, accidentally hitting your stitched up side.

“Ow!” You yelp. Peter immediately jumps back, not wanting to hurt you. Then he realizes what he did.

“Sorry...” He says as you check your bandages to make sure none of them moved. You pull your shirt slightly up, which causes Peter to blush and you to laugh internally because he could do the same thing and you would blush too. You put your shirt back down affirming that they didn’t move. “Can I try that again?” He asks, opening his arms up.

You throw your arms around his neck and he gently puts his arms around your waist. This was one of the best feelings in the world to you. Peter was always somehow warm and you loved it. He also gave the best hugs, you just felt so safe every time you were in his arms. You didn’t know that he felt the same way about you.

You both stood there, together, for what would be considered longer than what should be considered friendly. But you both knew that nothing between you anymore was friendly. You had both admitted that you loved each other. And it wasn’t in a friendly way. You wanted to be his girlfriend. And Peter wanted to be your boyfriend. He wanted to take you out on a date after you woke up. And you were awake... sooo....

You let go of him and step away. “Do you wanna help me take it down?” You point to the suit.

“Sure.” He replies as you run over to the stand and start tearing it off of the thing that was holding it up. You couldn’t reach the top of the hood and so you had to ask Peter, the only other person in the room, to get it down. Which was kind of embarrassing because you were both similar in height, but you knew he had longer arms than you.

“Pettteerrrr,” You sigh, holding the legs of the suit, “Can you get the hood down pretty pleeasssee?”

“Okay, shorty.” He says reaching up and easily grabbing it.

“WE’RE LIKE THE SAME HEIGHT PETER.” You shout, laughing at yourself and him.

He sets down the top part of the costume in your arms. He replies to your claim with a “mmm hmmm”. You just roll your eyes and laugh.

“I wanna try it on turn around Peter.” You say motioning for him to spin around.

He turns around and takes out his phone to scroll absentmindedly through some social media platform. You start stripping yourself of clothes and slide on the skin tight suit (which was much easier to put on than the last one), being careful of your injury.

You realize you are missing your face mask and you whip your head around to look for a mask anywhere. You spot it lying on an already black table, on top of a yellow sticky note. Probably because you couldn’t see it otherwise. When you step closer you realize it isn’t made of cheap plastic anymore. It’s made of sleek metal. When you place it on you see something on the sticky note. Vibranium. Of course! You had to have some sort of vibranium. When you slip the mask on it immediately melds to your face, it was way more flexible and movable than your last mask, and you liked it that way. You look slightly over and see a dark purple earpiece with a sticky note that says put me on! on it.

When you put the earpiece in, you hear a women’s voice pop into your head saying, “Hello Y/N.” You scream when you hear this.

“Holy shit!” You yell as Peter swings around, wide eyed. As soon as he sees you his jaw drops to the floor. He had never seen you in anything like this, other than your original suit, but that was not nearly as well tailored and good looking as this one.

“Wow- I mean what’s wrong?” Peter blurts out, just trying to pick his jaw up.

“Sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to scare you!” The woman’s voice says to you.

“I-it’s Okay?” You say calming down from the surprise of the voice.

“What? What’s going on?” Peter says walking over to you.

“Hold on,” You say to your earpiece, “Peter it’s an earpiece, there’s a voice that scared me.”

“Oh.” He replies, then it clicks in his brain, “Wait can I see?” Peter holds out his hand for the earpiece.

“O-okay?” You say popping it out and handing it to him.

“Hello?” He says after putting it into his ear, “Oh, hi Karen!” Peter pops out the ear piece and hands it back to you.

“Karen? What do you mean Karen?” You question.

“Oh Karen’s my suit lady, and she’s also in your earpiece.” Peter says smiling.

You smile back and say, “Oh. That’s cool.”

“Wait hold on, leave out the earpiece for a sec,” Peter says shuffling around in his pocket as you just hold the earpiece I your hand, “Here,” he says taking out his mask, sliding back your hood, and putting his mask on you.

You prepared yourself for a smell of sweat, but it surprisingly smelled like normal Peter out of a suit. As soon as your face is covered and the eye-holes reach your face, the suit lights up and you hear a “Hello Y/N. Lovely to meet you, Peter has told me a lot about you.” From Karen.

“Oh really, Karen?” You respond to Karen’s statement.

“Oh no, that must not be good!” you hear as Peter rips the mask off of your face.

You laugh and smile at the boy. You hair was probably insane but you didn’t care.

“Hey. So now that you have the suit on, I was wondering if you wanted to go take a swing around the city, maybe show some people who you are.”

“That sounds wonderful!” You we’re so excited, while Peter had taken you on swings through the city before, now you could move yourself around without the possibility of you dying as great. “You don’t happen to have the suit in your other pocket do you?”

“Unfortunately no, we have to go back to the room you woke up in. You’re okay walking around in the suit right? We may run into people, so I just want you to be comfortable.”

What a sweetheart, “Of course! If I do see anyone it’ll make me look more like a badass too!” You practically jump up and down while gathering your pajamas that were laid on the floor from when you originally changed.

When you were done, Peter gazed at you, a smile permanently plastered on his face. He looks down and grabs your hand before pulling you out a set of doors into the hallway. You did run into someone, and it might not have been someone you were ready to meet just quite yet.

Tagsssssss: @one-big-dreamer @seafrost-fangirl @skymoonandstardust @infamous-webhead @peterparkerwho @tomhollandandmarvelsworld @jadepc @popluckbih @fandomygirl @stillmissingnewt @killmemonger @marvel-lous-marvel @t-hollandd @wyyattsoleff @courtneychicken @spider-mendes @yohoyohoafandomlifeforme @qtest-trash @determinedpines @watermelonfruitsalad

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker dating #peter parker reader insert #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #spiderman dating #spiderman x you #spiderman reader insert #spiderman homecoming #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #katherine does a thing #Telle

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inawickedlittletown · 6 years ago

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Walking The Wire (106/?)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

@findmeinthestarss

Masterpost

Chapter One Hundred Five

It turned out that having Michelle know he was Spider-Man and acknowledging that she did was a good thing. Michelle was just all that much better about covering for Peter. Just the other day when they’d gone on a small class trip and Peter had spotted a mugging happening, it was Michelle that had distracted everyone long enough for Peter to get away unnoticed and then again when he rejoined them.

The only thing about Michelle was that unlike Ned, she actually seemed concerned about what Peter got up to. She worried. It was weird especially when she pretended that she didn’t in person and then sent him long rambling texts about how he wasn’t being careful and how close he came to getting injured or hurting others.

It was all on par with how much coverage Spider-Man had started to get from the media which Peter didn’t particularly like. At first it had seemed cool to be mentioned on the news all the time and to have articles about Spider-Man popping up everywhere. His favorite were the YouTube videos since those were usually fun to watch mostly because they weren’t all made by anyone truly professional. But after a while, even those got old. It got annoying. Tony definitely disliked it.

“I just don’t like how interested everyone seems to be in finding out your identity,” his dad said while they were tinkering in the workshop. “It’s none of their business.”

Peter liked listening to him rant. It was kind of hilarious especially when one considered Tony’s own media presence basically his entirely life.

“And it’s not like we’ve announced that you’re an Avenger or anything but some reason they just seem to associate you with us.”

That’s when Steve spoke up. “That’s because they see you out and about with him all the time as Iron Man and Iron Man is an Avenger.”

“That isn’t the point,” Tony said.

“And also, Peter’s the only hero that’s popped up that has a hidden identity. Gives everyone a mystery to want to solve.”

Tony muttered some more and Peter tried not to laugh. He could tell that Steve was amused too.

Since all that stuff with The Vulture, Tony still did tend to show up when Peter needed help. He was better about letting Peter be involved in things especially when they didn’t involve alien tech. They had stopped some weird guy with what seemed to be some sort of power -- Tony said he was probably an inhuman -- just the other day from destroying a big portion of Greenwich Village. The guy hadn’t been doing it on purpose it turned out it. It was just that his powers were so unstable. Peter had been glad to have Tony there because he didn’t a single person could have handled everything that instance entailed. Even Vision had made an appearance for that. In the end they had subdued the guy and Tony had handed him over to a the new Shield.

“But also, it’s not just the identity thing,” Tony kept on, “it’s that there’s varying degrees of coverage. He’s good for the city. He’s a vigilante. He’s an Avenger. He’s not. It’s ridiculous. At least no one seems to have put together that I built your suit. Or at least no one’s written an article about it yet. And can you imagine if anyone found out I had a son? Because then they would definitely start questioning whether you were the one under the mask and then my parenting would come into question.”

It was no surprise to Peter that Ned loved it. He had a whole collection on articles written about him and he would send Peter the more outrageous ones and Peter would pass those on to Steve because Steve loved reading them too. May seemed to agree with Tony on the whole matter. But then, May also tended to try and get Peter to quit being Spider-Man altogether whenever she saw him and it wasn’t something that was ever likely to stop. She liked to bring up questions about school and girlfriends and college and how Spider-Man wouldn’t be an ideal addition to any of those as her way of asking him to stop.

As he stepped out of Midtown one afternoon, Peter was surprised when he spotted Tony complete with a baseball cap, sunglasses, a grin, and a thermal cup that probably contained coffee, leaning against a sleek black car that at least proved to be his least flashy. Still, no matter how hard he was trying, he looked out of place and people were noticing him.

Michelle who had walked out with him spotted Tony with no problem and when Peter glanced at her he could practically see her thinking. Her left eyebrow rose and she stared him down.

“Is Tony Stark actually picking you up right now?”

Peter shook his head. “Nope. It’s all in your imagination. You’re hallucinating.”

Michelle laughed -- cackled more like and Peter grinned back at her as she nudged him and rolled her eyes. Ned appeared then, busy with his backpack as he walked, and only managing to not run into anyone because anyone in his path dodged him.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Your boy here is being picked up by Tony Stark. Fancy that. I bet Flash will be jealous.”

“Which is why I’m going to go before anyone else notices,” Peter said and rushed away. When he looked back Michelle waved and Ned grinned at him and gave him thumbs up.

“Hey,” Peter said when he was close enough.

“Hi, kiddo,” his dad said, “I was in the area so I figured I’d come by and get you. I was also sort of craving this apple crostini this one restaurant has so we’re going to have to make a stop for that. Up for it?”

Peter rolled his eyes but nodded. “Sure.”

They got into the car and when Peter looked out the window he realized that a few people were watching them. Someone must have caught onto Tony being there. Not that it really mattered since everyone knew that Peter had a Stark Internship. Of course, no intern could have ever expected for Tony Stark himself to show up to pick them up from school. He was definitely going to hear about it.

The restaurant Tony took them to was a hole in the wall that no one would have ever noticed and yet it was busy. A well known secret. Nevertheless, they were seated at a discrete table towards the back without much wait which told Peter that Tony had called ahead.

“Why are we really here?” Peter asked.

“I told you -- apple crostini. Also, remind me to order one to go because Steve would kill us if we don’t bring him one back. We used to come here sometimes back in the day.”

“Oh,” Peter said.

His dad never really talked about how he and Steve had come to be and Peter didn’t really have any questions or want to know details, but he loved when Tony slipped in something that hinted at a past memory. It made him realize how normal it all was in some ways. Sometimes, it was still shocking to think about Iron Man and Captain America in a romantic relationship or to consider that they were getting married until he thought about them as Tony and Steve -- his dad and his dad’s fiance.

“Truth is, I wanted to catch up with you,” Tony said. “Things have been a bit crazy lately. Haven’t really spent much time with you on our own. Steve or someone else is usually around.”

Peter hadn’t -- no, he’d noticed, it was just that he hadn’t minded. He’d never expected to have Tony to himself all the time and had felt lucky when he did even if then it had been broken up to a few hours here and there and now he was living in the tower and had access to Tony all the time and it didn’t really matter that there were other people around.

“We can start with, who was the girl?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Who, Michelle? I’ve told you about her. She’s the one that figured out I’m Spider-Man all on her own.”

“MJ. You said someone named MJ did.”

“Michelle Jones. She likes to be called MJ. Anyway, that was her.”

Tony nodded. The waitress approached then and Tony ordered the apple crostinis and remembered to order the one to go as well without Peter needing to remind him.

“So she’s super smart and observant,” Tony said.

“Yup. Definitely knew it was you waiting for me. Actually, I think a few people figured it out.”

Tony shrugged with a grin. “And they can all wonder about what your internship entails once more.”

Tony started asking about how things were going in school next and Peter filled him in even though he was sure he’d mentioned some of it to him in passing over the last few weeks.

The apple crostini turned out to be amazing. He was in the middle of telling Tony about what they’d started working on in physics when it arrived and after one bite of the crunchy and flaky crust with the warm apple filling and the ice cream and Peter was in heaven.

“I told you so,” Tony said.

“This is the best thing ever,” Peter said.

It was nice to have some time on his own with Tony. Tony told him all about how the board members were driving him and Pepper crazy because they didn’t like that Tony’s concern wasn’t all about profit when it came to the prosthetic division even when it came to custom projects.

“It’s like they don’t understand how good the PR is although that obviously isn’t why we’re doing it.”

“But it’s your company,” Peter said.

“Pepper and I own more than half of the shares of the company, sure, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have to deal with the board of directors. It’s the side of business that I don’t particularly like. Pepper is awesome at it. It’s all stuff you’ll have to learn about if you want to take over the company one day--”

“Um, what?” Peter said and almost choked on a piece of apple.

Tony chuckled. “Won’t be for a while and it’s up to you if you want it. It’s not an obligation, you know. You could find your own Pepper Potts and have someone else run it if you prefer. I rather you do what you want than what you think I want you to do so--”

Peter had sort of forgotten about how Tony had broken the news to him what felt like ages ago even though it hadn’t even been a full year yet. He’d forgotten how Tony told him that he would inherit everything as if that had been the right way to let him know that Tony was his father. Since then, Peter hadn’t really thought about it or the reality of what it actually meant which meant that it was overwhelming information to take in.

“I -- that’s--”

“What, did you forget that I’m Tony Stark? You’re my heir, kid, to this whole crazy company and whatever else I’ve accumulated.”

“But what if -- what if you and Steve have kids?” Peter asked.

It wasn’t something he’d considered before that moment, but wasn’t that what people did after they got married? They went and had kids. Peter was aware that Tony and Steve were both men but there were ways around that -- surrogacy or adoption or other weirder things. It was possible. Peter didn’t know if -- well, he didn’t know if he’d be thrilled about it if they did have kids. He felt weird even just thinking about it.

“Not really something we’ve discussed,” Tony said and he seemed to notice that Peter seemed uncomfortable. “And even if we did decide to have kids it wouldn’t be for a long while, Pete.”

“Oh,” Peter said. But they could still have some even if Peter was fully grown when they did--

Tony grabbed his hand. Tony’s hand was warm and familiar and Peter allowed himself to calm down. “Peter, you’re my kid. I -- I love you, kid. Not something that will ever change. I’ll always be here for you no matter what. Even if Steve and I adopt a hundred kids. You’re still always going to be my son and you’re the most important person in my life.”

Peter hadn’t expected Tony to say that. Those three words. Tony had said them before, he was sure, but Peter couldn’t actually remember. He certainly hadn’t expected them in the moment.

“I don’t think even Steve will want to adopt that many kids,” Peter said.

“If he even wants to,” Tony said with a shrug. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t be opposed to another kid -- it’s just I’d be fine with just you.”

“Oh,” Peter said. “But you didn’t get to raise me. Not really. Don’t you want that -- the whole baby thing?” Peter didn’t really understand why people were so keen on babies. He knew they were cute but they also cried and made messes and couldn’t really do anything and he actually -- he couldn’t see Tony or even Steve dealing with a baby well.

“That doesn’t matter. Clearly, it doesn’t. You’re still my kid, Peter, and as has been established you clearly need me a lot too no matter what your age is.”

Peter nodded. “I kind of do,” Peter said and then because he couldn’t say anything else, “I, um, I love you too, dad.”

He thought that Tony’s eyes got a bit misty at that and Peter realized that he’d never actually said it out loud before. But it was true. It had been true for a while. Peter loved Tony. He loved his dad and everything that he was and did for Peter. He was one of the best people he knew and Peter would forever be glad that he knew who his father was and that it was someone as amazing as Tony Stark.

Chapter One Hundred Seven

#peter and tony #peter and tony fic #mcuwriting #mcu fic #iron dad #iron dad and spider son #stony #stony fic #marvel

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today-your-my-little-bitch · 4 years ago

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secret pain

guys this is my first real fic ive ever written. im really proud of it. making new chapters all the time.

Chapter 1

: chapter 1Chapter Text

Lainey had been hunting on her own for 6 years. Bobby had begged her not to go. It wasn't safe alone. Well now Bobby was dead. The news had reached her when she had gone to a hunter's roadhouse. She regretted how she had stormed out on Bobby, the man who had helped her when no one could. She had traveled to Sioux Falls as soon as possible. By the time she had gotten there the funeral had already ended but there was a familiar '67 chevy impala still in the driveway. She walked inside Bobby's rickety old house remembering younger days when she would walk the halls and laugh along with the old man. Her attention was diverted in another direction as she heard someone's heavy footsteps coming from the living room. Lain turned to meet the footsteps, reaching for her gun in the process. But who she was met with was..."Dean Winchester?" "ya, and who the hell are you?" Lain had just realized he had his gun trained right on her heart. How long had it been since she'd seen him? Maybe 8 years? God he had become so beautiful. Uh what? No she was not thinking these thoughts right now. she shook her head and pulled her gun out to rest it at her side. "My name is Lainey McKane. I- I was close to Bobby" "How do you know him?" Dean asked almost testing her. "um...we've hunted together for years. I haven't seen him in 6 years but we were really close." Lain decided not to tell him her backstory just then. Dean seemed to be contemplating letting me pass or shooting me, when Sam came in. "uh hey. Dean who is? And you don't need to point your gun at her!" Sam took the gun right out of Dean's hands. "that's better. Now how are you?" "I'm Lainey. Lain. I was close to Bobby but i haven't seen him in 6 years" "well then welcome. You missed the funeral but you can still pay respects to his memory. And you might even be willing to help us clean up. Hunters make a big mess." Sam had started walking back into the kitchen. "um thanks. Sure I'll help." she tucked her gun back into the waistband of her jeans. Then she walked behind Sam into the kitchen. As she was walking past Dean she felt his eyes following her. As she entered the kitchen she saw that there was indeed a big mess. Why did hunters always so messy? "Can I just wander around a bit? Its been been so long since I've been here." "Sure. And why were you here before? I didn't quite get that part of the story." "Me and Bobby did some hunts together. He saved me on one of them a while back. He let me crash here sometimes." She hadn't been lying about most of that. She just didn't give him any context. Nothing more than necessary. "oh. Well then you know what an amazing man he was." "Ya. Also how drunk he can get on bad days." "That too. But anyways I'll let you get back to your roaming." "thanks." Lain started by going up the old molding stairs. She walked down the hallway to where Bobby's room was. When she looked in there she saw nothing but memories of when she was younger. She walked next to the bed and lifted the mattress to find something she knew had been there for a long time.

Chapter 2

: chapter 2 Summary:

lainey will be going through memories with bobby. so heartwarming.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

What Lain had gotten from under Bobby's bed, was a simple frame holding a photograph. The photo was aged and beautiful. It was of her and Bobby outside the sign to the junkyard. She had been 15 at the time. She had finally started to think of this place as home. It had been a year since he had taken her in, and that was closest to the roughest year of her life. She was still grieving and couldn't accept reality. She had stayed in the room three doors down the hall on the left. She didn't leave her room much. But one day, that day, Bobby came in and told her to get her sorry ass out of bed because we all lose people and we all go through pain. And he promised to get her through it. And he promised to help her have control over who she was and what she could do. So she had gotten up, gotten dressed, and helped Bobby with the cars. That's when he decided to take a picture. They had agreed it was too dangerous for her to be unnecessarily public, so Bobby had hidden this picture under his bed. In the years that passed after that they only grew closer, and one day she had finally been ready to start hunting again. But that all went downhill when she nearly didn't make it home. Bobby had gotten furious and had tried to make her quit hunting, but she couldn't. Hunting was a big part of her life and she wouldn't give it up. And so one day she had packed her black duffel bag with all of her stuff, and left. Might have been one of the worst decisions of her life. She hadn't even looked back at the man who had taken her in, the man who had helped her and saved her. She walked out on a normal life forever. And she drove off and never came back. Until now that is. Being in this house, remembering all those good times was making her emotional. Ugh she hated being emotional. Emotion was a weakness. She learned that a long time ago. She put the picture back under the bed mattress. She took one last look around Bobby's room and went down the hall to her old room. When she opened the door she saw that nothing had changed. Everything was how she remembered it. Plain walls, plain floors, plain bed. The red curtains were still there if not a bit more dusty. He had wiped all remnants of her from this place except for the picture under his bed. Lain decided that she had had enough time to reminisce, and so she went back downstairs. As she was nearing the bottom she could hear Sam and Dean whispering angrily at each other about something. She was willing to bet her life it was her they were whispering about. She stepped off the stairs, folded her arms, and leaned against the wall. "whatcha boys talking 'bout?" They both jumped at her voice, not knowing she was there. "um, we were just talking about uh. Sam, what were we talking about?" Dean said then asked Sam. "Well Lain we were talking about you." Dean looked at Sam like he was out of his mind for saying that. "And what exactly have you been saying about me?" "We were just saying how its strange that you come back now, saying that you knew Bobby for years, but he never mentioned you." Well this was going to be difficult. "Well he wouldn't have. I was younger. A teenager. I stopped being in contact with him around six years ago. I asked him not to talk about me. He probably didn't even remember me anyways though. Its been so long." "Ah, well, if you knew him from so long ago, why did you still come to his funeral? Or tried to anyways." Dean asked her. He was having trouble speaking today for some reason. He kept saying 'uh'. "because I've never forgotten how he helped me. After I left I regretted it, but I chose to keep hunting and he wanted to take that away. So I had to go. Would you forget some of the best years of your life?" "I- I guess not. Sorry. Didn't mean to pry." Lainey took a deep breath and told Dean, "It's fine, you just struck a soft spot." she chuckled a little. Then she pushed off from the wall and stood in front of Dean with her hand outstretched. "What do you say we start over. You know without the gun pointed at my face." "Sounds good." he grabbed her hand and shook it. "Do you boys want help cleaning up the mess now?" "Yes," both boys said energetically A few hours later when they had cleaned everything up and had a few beers, Lainey was headed back outside to her car to find a motel for the night. She didn't feel like driving or leaving any time soon, but she needed to. She was getting her keys out to unlock the door when a piercing pain struck her. She doubled over on the ground. She started coughing and when she pulled her hand away there was blood, lots of blood. And with that the world went dark.

#bage-the-gabe #probablyasatanworshipper #onlybackfordestiel #thwick #starrynightdeancas #thiscastielhasflown #rambleoncas #btshrek #castielrulessupernatural #agentplant #·littleduck46 #supernaturalislife #supernaturalfanluc

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chimcharstar · 5 years ago

Note

I ASK EVERYTHING FROM ANGEL TO WOBBLY

COMING RIGHT UP

♡ cute asks ♡

angel; do you have a nickname?

awe; how old are you?

baby; favorite color?

purple

bloop; spirit animal?

i know what youre trying to do bug

blossom; favorite book/movie/song?

my favourite movie today is always be my maybe. do yourself a favor and watch keanu reeves act his heart out

blush; what was your stuffed animal as a child?

lucky, a little white tiger. i still have her.

breeze; most precious childhood memory?

maybe my mom making me tea or something. ow ow nostalgia

bright; mermaids or fairies?

fairies

bubbles; do you have a best friend?

YEAH

buttercup; showers or baths?

showers

butterfly; dream destination?

maybe ... the countryside, but one i havent been to before?

buttons; are you religious or spiritual?

yes, very. while feeling at war with it all the time cause of the gay angst. but lbr. i prayed for some coffee and i got some. i also pray when some real shit is happening. its just my nature. i have a very strong intuition when im not panicking. TOO BAD MY PARENTS DISHED OUT TONS OF SPIRITUAL ABUSE I CANT REALLY HEAL FROM

calm; favorite scent?

this candle that has vanilla in it. i like the smell of vanilla because it smells sweet and im like. !!!! kindness!!!

candlelight; what did you dream about last night?

i dreamed my siblings were all bickering and blaming each other endlessly and saying cruel things, and i was trying to tell them to stop but my voice was hoarse and no one could hear me. the voice part makes more sense when you consider i lost my voice talking lots at the Job and ive been Way too worried about it and its also a Passing thing

charming; have you ever been in love?

yes... overrated

cozy; eye/hair color?

red hair green eyes

cuddly; what’s your favorite time period?

the afternoon when i can take a walk with some coffee and music or, faceplant on my bed and fall asleep on the spot and then wake up feeling very well napped

cupcake; favorite flower/plant?

i really like bonsais. or ... whatever type of bonsai i keep buying. they grow fast so you can notice their progress, they can survive bad mental health weeks, and you can shape them, they kind of grow with you

cute; what did you get on your last birthday?

i .... forget a lot. i forget these kinds of things. i hope it doesnt mean it didnt matter to me. i remember being really lonely on my last birthday and pretending not to be and then crying to my diary that no one is allowed to read

cutie pie; most precious item you own?

any bonsai, any jacket, thats my soul. or my phone lol

cutsie; what makes you happy?

people saying small nice things

daisies; describe a moment when you felt free.

just the other day when i was starting to play stardew valley again and i had some tea i think...

daydream; how do you want to be remembered?

i want to have been Known as more than just shy and polite

daylight; favorite album of all time?

idk of all time, but say you will by fleetwood mac FUCKS, i will destroy my ears on public transit with that

dear; zodiac sign?

sagittarius

delightful; concerts or museums?

?????? N/A unfortunately

dimples; have you ever written a letter?

yes, i have written all sorts of letters, not snail mail but yknow... that is my jam. i have used it for good and evil

dobby; dream job?

writer of , books or screenplays or something

doll; how do you like to dress?

behold my array of gay jackets. hoods... gay layers... with some flowers. i have some shit with flowers on it. an old man complimented me on a train once. because im amazing

dovey; any paranormal/magical experiences?

my roommates say theres a ghost dude downstairs but ive never seen him. not really actually.

dreams; do you want or have any tattoos?

no, and ive thought about a tattoo but im like... i cant imagine picking a decoration and then being satisfied with it for the rest of my life, and being so... open like that, i change my mind and worry too much...

drizzle; do you believe in aliens?

yes bitch. theres water on mars im sitting here patiently

euphoric; talk about someone you love.

the demigirl reading this

fairy; do you have a pet?

no :(

fluffy; ocean or mountain?

mountain... no ocean.. im feeling ocean

forever; where do you feel time stop?

i havent felt like that in a looong time. maybe this one place with streams, when its raining really heavily and everythings Gushing

froglet; are you a good plant owner?

i have kept... 5 bonsais alive for a while.

garden; how many languages do you know?

one. with some rocky french that makes me ACTUALLY want to learn french, and then frustratingly be on the brink of speaking french

gem; who are your favorite tumblrs?

i cant find the name right now but they make this pixel art and put sentences that are kinda so gentle and pining... i love it

giggles; what is your aesthetic of choice?

homemade coffee in a messy kitchen with some sun coming in, youre kind of sleepy

glittery; do you like anons? why/why not?

yes!!! i wanna talk!!!!!

glow; list the top 5 things you like about yourself

ok... i know how to be Respectful, im a strong person, im good with self-expression, i like my voice... AND IM CUTE

heart; silk or lace?

silk

honey; coffee or tea? how do you take it?

coffee, so much sugar and a bit of scream.

hugsy; do you enjoy people watching or bird watching more? why?

BIRD WATCHING. because watching people can get awkward real fast, and birds dont give a fuck. birds are fat little boys jumpin around. they dont worry about their jobs. i respect that.

hunnybunch; what sounds help you sleep?

Harmonious People Noises. i dont actually listen to sounds going to sleep when maybe i should. because of how i grew up im fine listening to music or people playing instruments falling asleep, even with the light on

jewel; what’s your favorite kind of weather?

that part of autumn where its colourful and not too cold not too hot, and sun everywhere

jiggly; what do you usually like to do on weekends?

i do stuff like take walks and do a few errands and water plants... and just chill and enjoy not having pressing stuff to do.

joy; do you laugh loudly or giggle more?

i am a serious giggler but i recently got a booming laugh, or it sounds like that to me

kinky; do you blush easily?

no. apparently not. but sometimes i feel my face heat up and then im really, really counting on it that that doesnt mean im blushing because its at the worst possible times to blush

kisses; what romantic cliché do you wish for most?

SOULMATE... SOMEONE I DONT HAVE TO SAY GOODBYE TO...

kitty; what’s your favorite time of the day?

i feel like i already answered this but ill pick a different time. evening is nice because im a night owl and i focus better and i can relax and do whatever

ladybug; what’s your favorite artist to listen to when you’re sad?

fleetwood mac and bLAST it on public transit

love; what is your favorite season and why?

autumn, because pretty, haloween

lovey; what is your favorite flavor of macaron and ice cream?

i dont know about macaron but that cookie dough ice cream is some good

magic; what are five flaws you have?

overthinking, clinging to comfort zone, procrastinating, isolating, either i dont stand up for myself or i do it too harshly

moonlight; do you prefer soft pastels, warm neutrals, or cool darks?

they all sound so lovely im feeling warm neutrals rn

munchkin; what do you look for in your significant other?

emotional labour, similar energy level

paddywack; how would you describe a perfect date?

I JUST WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH SOMEONE and there has to be food

pebbles; how do you spend free time by yourself?

doing THIS... all my free time... is basically by myself

precious; what is something valuable that you learned in your life?

you dont have to be useful to be valuable. you deserve love just because you exist, and even if you feel strongly that everything sucks, that could be your comfort zone talking. im having a mental health week

pretty; do you like to cook or bake more?

cook. id bake but then i eat stuff that doesnt make my stomach as happy

prince; how would you describe your handwriting?

oh its GORGEOUS. i have been practising my handwriting in my Diary for Months.

princess; do you play any instruments? if not, are there any you wish you could play?

yes, piano mostly... ive been feeling Urges to play guitar lately that have surprised me

prinky; how do you relieve stress?

doing something restful/mentally restoring like taking a break or talking calming things to myself

pumpkin; what is your favourite kind of fruit/vegetable?

LOVE THAT ZUCCHINI...F RY THAT BITCH WITH GARLIC AND ONION...

rainbow; what was the last line of the last book you read?

i have not read a book

roses; what is the most significant event in your life so far?

realizing im trans

smile; what is one thing that has greatly affected you?

ill think of a nice one, moving away from my parents, theres been so much healing

shine; art or music?

MUSIC

shimmer; do animals tend to like you?

yes

smitten; do you collect anything?

bonsais??

smoochies; how many pillows do you sleep with?

one

snuggle; what is your favourite candy?

chocolate, any,

snuggly; do you have a camera? if so, what kind?

phone camera, ithas all these cool filters and things it can do, it says my plants are food

sparkle; do you wear jewelry?

occasionally. its mostly the black tourmaline bracelet

spooky; sunrise or sunset?

sunset, that is the beautifulest

sprinkles; do you like to listen to music with headphones or no headphones?

with headphones. i just ... maybe this is a growing up thing but i cant imagine Taking Up Space playing my music out loud... then other people can judge my music choice... theyd Know things about me...

starlight; what was your favourite show as a child?

save ums. i have this answer ready to go. that is because after five i stopped having a tv

soft; describe your favourite spot in your house.

my rooooooommmmmmmmmm my BED

soothe; digital or vinyl?

digital? what is this about?

squeezed; who do you miss right now?

my sister. she always says i never hang out but ... she doesnt seem interested in things i actually like... she tries and she cares but...

sugary; what traits do you value most in friends?

loyal, honest

sunshine; do you prefer for things to be practical or aesthetically pleasing?

practical, i just cant focus on aesthetic because then i get way too picky with eeeverything

sweet; do you find it easy to open up?

NO, unless i am on tumblr where there are no Laws. or it depends on how easy the person is to talk to.

sweetie; do you like kids? if so, do you ever want to have any?

yes, yes but NOT RIGHT NOW, i think kids are really Good, theyre simple and honest

thimble; is there somebody you look up to? who are they?

i look up to the Bosses at my work, i mean they seem like they try really hard and do a good job and they have to lead everyone else too i respect that

toot; what is something you find unique about yourself?

the emotional intelligence dial. it is maybe too far. but im realizing that isnt so common.

tootsie; what kind of friend are you?

i hope, at least the kind i would want. probably very energetic, with negative or positive stuff

treasure; what was something that made you smile today?

another person at work called me by my last name. i find this funny because 1) it sounds funny to just shout 2) why are they all so fascinated with it .... yknow its because they wanted it to see if it was ramsay. did they seriously think. bunch of cooking nerds. is this their new power move.

velvet; are you an early bird or a night owl?

niGHT OWL

whiffle; if you could have a magical power, what would it be?

shapeshifting

whimsical; do you prefer doing stuff at home or going out?

home, but i would enjoy going out with the right people i think. which has never happened.

whiskers; do you usually wear makeup?

wiggly; are you a messy or tidy person?

tidy

wispy; do you like the place where you grew up? do you think you will live there when you get older?

yes, and no. my heart is set on being Out in the Nature though. i dont know if i can really really go back to where i grew up. theres so many complicated and painful feelings around it, and im not really welcome. 3

wobbly; have you ever wished upon a star?

yes, i wish on all kinds of stuff all the time

#zee5starbug #chatty tag #HOLY SHIT #88 MORE TO GO LOL #ILU

0 notes

pl4-cidity · 8 years ago

Text

Little Black Dress

Nct smut Yuta x Reader Word count: 2,136 My first ever smut ive written welp. "Come on, we're going to be late!” “Just one minute!” You finish your make up by applying your favourite red lipstick in your hotel bathroom. Tonight was the night of SM Entertainment’s annual dinner celebrating their 22nd anniversary so it was worth making an effort since your boyfriend, Yuta, was bringing you as a guest. You stood back and watched yourself in the mirror. You stood tall in your Louis Vuitton heels and your little black dress that you knew your boyfriend adored. It was tight fitted and complemented your curves so well. You smiled as you ruffled your hair and exited the bathroom to where you found Yuta fixing his tie in the mirror of your hotel room. “You ready, baby?”, he asked as he turned around. His eyes widened with astonishment as he caught sight of you. He gently bit his lip as he savoured the sight of your wonderful, sensual figure. “W-wow” he smirked. You smiled and blushed as he walked towards you and placed his hands on your waist. “I've missed this” he whispered into your ear. “Me too” you responded as you lay your head onto his shoulder. These past few weeks had been difficult by yourself. Yuta's busy schedule due to his promotions meant that you two could barely spend any time together. It felt odd not having your other half by your side everyday, but you knew you couldn't be selfish and prioritise your feelings as you knew this is the life that Yuta wanted to live. You always encouraged him to fulfil his dreams, even if it meant you two sacrificing time together. Thankfully, his promotions had just ended which put a smile on your face because it means that you can finally spend more time doing the stuff that you love most with the person that you love most. He held your hand and led you out towards the hotel dining room where people were already grabbing their seats. You noticed people’s stares and looks due to your choice of sexy clothing, however you continued to smile and greet everyone you walked past. Yuta grew conscious of the men eyeing you up and down so he wrapped his arm around your waist to prove that you were his and his only. You reached your table and greeted Yuta's group members who were already seated. As you greeted Taeyong, he stood and looked at you. “Wow, you look great!” he said. “Thanks” you chuckled. In the corner of your eye you could see Yuta looking in your direction and feel his burning eyes towards Taeyong. You decided to ignore it. You sat between Yuta and Johnny. You were familiar with Johnny since his outgoing personality allowed both of you to grow close and tease each other often. Jaehyun, who was sat next to Johnny, turned to you and said “long time, no see Y/N. it's really good to see you today. You look lovely by the way!” Before you could thank jaehyun, Yuta interrupted and exclaimed “yes, MY girlfriend really does look beautiful” as he put an arm around your chair. You smiled it off and wondered what caused your boyfriend to suddenly be so possessive. Of course, the fact that you two hadn't made love in a while caused his frustrated side to appear. More people found their seats and some were starting to settle down. You joked around with Johnny to pass the time. He was telling you funny stories that happened during their promotions. How their car almost drove off without Donghyuck, and their collective wardrobe disasters. You were laughing until you felt a warm hard on your thigh from your right. You turned to Yuta who wasn't looking at you although he could feel watching him. The room turned quiet and the lights turned down as the CEO stepped on stage for his speech. During the speech, you could feel Yuta's hand squeezing your thigh tighter and tighter. You placed you hand on his as an indication to stop. Once you took your hand off you felt his hand move up your thigh closer and closer to your sensitive area. You grabbed his hand so he could stop but he didn't let go. Your tried to conceal your deep breaths. You were glad the room was dark so no one could see your panicked facial expressions. You leaned towards him and whispered “Yuta, please!”. He finally let go but not before he brushed his fingers past your sensitive spot. You gasped slightly and squeezed your legs together as you felt your wet pool. You then leaned back into your chair to recollect your thoughts. Your breaths slowed down but you still couldn't focus on the speeches. Once the speeches were over, out rolled the food for dinner. You quickly ate your food while the rest of the boys were enjoying their meal and conversing about the after party which was to follow after the dinner. You stood up to go to the bathroom. “Where are you going?” Yuta asked. “To the bathroom,” you replied. “Are you coming to the after party?” Johnny spun around and asked. “Um, yeah! I'll be there” you smiled. You walked off in a hurry. You reached the bathroom and stared in the mirror while you took deep breaths. Yuta was never like this in public. Imagine if we were caught, you thought to yourself. It was so risky but it felt so good. You needed more of him. You wanted his taste so bad it hurt. No, you thought to yourself, you can wait til later, you still have the after party to attend. You reapplied to your lipstick and took one last deep breath before you stepped out. As you opened the door you stopped in your tracks as you saw Yuta right in front of you, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. “You really thought you could escape, huh?” He smirked. “What?” “I know how much you want me Y/N, don't pretend” You stared right at his face. “you're right. I do want you. I want you so bad I can't even think straight, but it wasn't the right time for that Yuta.” He stepped towards you and cupped your face. “Well, we can make time.” You stepped back and felt your back hit the wall. You stared into his big, glinting eyes. “I love you so mu-” Before you could finish he smashed his lips against yours, taking you in as his hands wandered around your body. You closed you eyes and ruffled your hands through his hair, savouring the moment you've been waiting for. He pressed his body against yours and his hands started to climb up your dress until you gained your self control and managed to push him off. You stared at him straight in the eyes, and without saying anything you held his hand and you both ran to your hotel room. As you both hurried,you thought to yourself how long you've waited for this. For you to be in each other's arms, expressing you love to one another, making each other feel whole again. Yuta unlocked the door and you both scurried in. Not even a millisecond after you closed the door behind you, he turned you around and pushed you against the door grinding his body against yours. He began kissing your neck, leaving marks. His aggressive love bites and the feeling of his hard member against your body left you breathless. You felt his hands trail down your body to your sensitive area. He tugged at your panty line and slid inside. His middle finger traced your clitoris and you couldn't help but gasp loudly. You loved the way he teased you. He breathed gently down your neck and slid two fingers inside you. You threw your head back and moaned freely as he pumped them in and out of you. Your body felt weak as he continued to play with your clit. “You like that, huh?” He breathed against your skin. “Y-yeah” your voice cracked as you felt yourself getting close to your climax. “Yes who?” “I-I'm gonna c-come” you weeped. “SAY MY NAME!” “Y-yuta…I want you” He quickly slid his fingers out before you could reach your high. “Babygirl you ain't getting away that easy” he smirked. You groaned as you reached to place your hand on his hard member and started rubbing. He gave out a quiet groan. His groan turned into a loud gasp as you gave it a little squeeze. You unbuckled his belt and pushed him onto the bed. You began taking off your dress until you were left with your sexy lace lingerie that he loved whilst he took off the the rest of his clothing apart from his shirt. You crawled onto the bed, giving him a sinful glare as you stared at his needy eyes. You grasped his hard member, already leaking in precum, and began sliding your hand up and down. You didn't take you eyes off him as his breaths grew deeper and louder. You wanted revenge for his teasing so you bent your head and lightly licked the whole length of his member with the tip of you tongue. “Oh baby” he squirmed. You loved seeing the way you made him vulnerable. Finally, you took him whole into your mouth and bobbed your head up and down, tasting the precum that seeped out earlier. His hands grabbed your hair and he began trusting his member further into your mouth. “How do I taste, babygirl? I bet you missed this cock” he groaned. You couldn't respond since your mouth was filled with him inside, but damn did you miss it so much. He threw his head back and his moans grew louder and you could tell he was close, so you quickly raised your head and took him out. “Two can play at that game” you told him as the remainders of his precum dripped from your mouth. You took off you lingerie and climbed closer towards his body until you were hovering him. You lined his cock against your entrance and slowly took him in, straddling him. It took you a few seconds for your walls to adjust to his size and soon after you were grinding your body against his. He reached and squeezed your breasts, playing with your nipples which made your groan loudly. You continued to ride him until he suddenly surprised you when he switched sides so you were laying on your back. You knew he was always the dominant type so you let him take the lead. He aggressively thrusted in and out of you. The sound of sex filled the room. He leaned down and began to leave marks on your chest. “I’m close” you whimpered. He stared right into your eyes and said “I love you, babygirl”. Suddenly a wave of satisfaction washed over your body and you groaned so loudly as you finally reached your climax. Yuta thrusts became even more quicker, pumping himself in and out. A few moments later, his hips snapped and you felt his warm liquid release inside of you. His hips still pressed against you, prolonging his release. His thrusts became slower and he finally took himself out and collapsed right next to you. Your breaths slowed down as you turned to him and you were both looking into each other eyes. He pushed your hair behind your ear and caressed your face. “I missed you so much.” “I missed you too.” “I felt like a piece of me was missing when I was gone.” “What matters is that we're here together now. I love you, Yuta.” “I love you too, Y/N”. Suddenly his phone rang. He quickly reached for his trousers which was left on the bed. He checked the screen. It was Johnny. “Hey man!...I'm with Y/N…..oh, the party?” You both looked at each other in shock as you both forgot all about it. “Oh yeah, we can't make it. We're going to have an early night, sorry…..yeah, I'll see you tomorrow….bye man.” He hung up and threw his phone to the side. He moved closer to you so you could both hold each other in your arms. You could never grow tired of this feeling. All these weeks without his touch was all worth it. He was the one and only man you loved. No one came close to Nakamoto Yuta, and you felt so lucky that he feels the same way about you too. His touch, his love, his heart was all you wanted. Words couldn't describe how much you loved him and the way he made you feel. As you lay and thought to yourself in silence, you could tell that he was thinking the same thing. You both made the perfect pair that shared this unbreakable bond that you couldn't feel with no other. He belonged to you and you belonged to him.

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nihilismdan · 8 years ago

Text

for those who wait.

word count: 5,009 warnings: light angst, alcohol mentions, general mental health stuff, nothing extreme. summary: When Dan and Phil move to London and try to figure out what their relationship is and what it means to them it comes to many questions and not that many answers. Or the one where Dan gets lost and Phil waits for him. a/n: under the cut.

a/n: i started writing this around 11:00pm at night and finished at about 4:00am. i haven't written anything since december and i felt like i couldn't write anything- i had like a writers block and it was terrible. but i had this tiny little idea and this transpired.

i also attended school in london for a semester and i got lost and ended up on the overground and it was a journey to get back so based on a true story in a way lol.

Here’s the certain things that Phil knows: He loves him. He wants him happy.

And here’s the uncertain things that he doesn’t know: If Dan loves him back. If he wants to be happy.

Then there’s the smaller things that Phil knows: when Phil makes Dan a coffee it needs to have just enough cream and sugar to not taste like coffee, he ends up spilling the coffee on his pajama pants because of the way he leans on the couch. Dan can make a good green and yellow curry, but he needs help with the rice. He knows that Dan has listened to 808’s and Heartbreak at least three times this month because it was “underrated”, and he can forgive the radio stations for continually playing Love Lockdown and Heartless.

It’s sad, because it’s small intimate details about Dan that no one else knows, and no one else will ever know.

ii.

Dan hasn’t actually slept in a couple of days, and he hasn’t kept up with his subscription box or gone on any forums, he just goes on the computer to look like he’s doing something when really he’s staring at word documents, they’re blank and nothing is coming to him. It’s not just an art or a video block- it’s just. A block. He’s had it for a while now but it’s becoming more evident, that fear of… everything is seeping into his daily tasks because he’s scared and he’s lonely and there’s so many things happening and not happening all at once.

It’s morning now and there’s a cup of coffee on the table that Phil leaves because he doesn’t bother knocking on his bedroom anymore to see if Dan wants to come out. Dan takes it and drinks it cold because the noise of the microwave is too loud and he just wants to go back to his room and vegetate for a while, pretend for a couple of hours that he doesn’t exist before he tweets something mildly depressing, halfway funny, try to be something other than just ordinary, not so extraordinary Dan. People will laugh because it’s funny, and some will hate it because it’s true.

Dan still laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world, but it’s over shared links that Phil will send him and he’ll watch it in his room, and he won’t talk about the way that Phil knows that it’ll make him laugh, and he won’t talk about the way that the video is supposed to be fails but he’ll still look at the guys that are comfortable with their shirts off and their bare chest showing. And he certainly won’t talk about the way that his eyes linger a little longer, and he’ll close the tab and find something new to laugh about.

iii.

They have friends in London, surprisingly, no one really believes them, but the audience always liked to pretend it was just Dan and Phil, when Dan always said they’re just Dan. And just Phil. Separate. But they have friends. And they come every once in awhile, they bring beer and they bring wine and someone will bring the cheese even though Phil hates cheese and Dan will look over at Phil and they’ll laugh respectively, because they both know, and it’s the small things like that Phil holds onto, he just doesn’t know if Dan does, too.

(he does. he does. he does.)

They’ve watched a lot of movies, the last one was about alternate universes, and everyone is a little tipsy or drunk and trying to play it off as best as they can that they swear they’re fine. No water, thanks. Dan is on the couch, Phil is sitting on the ground, their friends are spread across their living room that still needs to be decorated a bit, the walls are plain and bare other than a few posters here and there.

“So, alternate universes- yay or nay?” her eyebrows are raised as she looks between the two who are as far as they possibly can be.

“Yay,” Phil says with a small smile on his face, his arms are wrapped around his legs, his chin on his knees.

Dan notices that he’s been in the same position as Phil and he quickly stops hugging himself before grabbing the bottle of beer that he had placed on the floor, he holds it against him like a security blanket and looks at a spot on the ground and shakes his head.

“Nay,” he laughs because his friends laugh, and they say it’s typical because in a way it is.

Dan is cynical and believes in nothing that isn’t proven by cold science.

Everyone knows that- but the idea of alternate universes is exciting. At least, that’s what they all say, and Phil is looking away and not at Dan anymore and Dan felt like he said the wrong thing because in a way he did. He has.

He’s gotten quite the habit of doing that.

“I like to think we’re all out there- happy and shit. Got life worked out.” She says this while her eyes are closed and she’s holding the red wine and Dan laughs a bit, it’s absurd to think about.

“It’s not real.” Dan chuckles, and he swears sometimes that he’s not trying to start something, most of the time he’s not, he doesn’t even know if his tone sounds rude half the time, he thinks that by laughing it’ll diffuse whatever tone he’s giving off but it never really does.

“Maybe not.” she says with a shrug, getting up, a quick sigh, and then grabs her jacket from the table, “but it’s nice to think about.” she smiles slightly as they all get up, the room got a little bit colder, and they best be going anyway. It’s late.

Phil avoids looking at Dan as he walks their guests out. Dan grabs all the cups from the living room and the leftover pizza to put in the fridge. He throws away the cheese she brought, no one will eat it anyway.

By the time Dan finishes the dishes Phil will be in his room attempting to sleep but really just avoiding Dan because he ruined the night for him. He won’t tell him that to his face, but he can feel it, all away across the hall he can feel the disappointment of letting the people he cares about down again.

iv.

London has etched it’s way into Dan’s heart. Manchester would always be special, in ways that Dan can no longer talk about, but it’s London that understands Dan’s heartbreak. He’s on the tube, he had a few meetings and a few shops that he had to go too. It’s nine o’clock and he’s listening to his music on the underground. He’s sat here for a while, watching people come and go on the tube, some are going home, others are going out for the night, there’s foreigners from America, he can tell by the way that they talk, he turns his music up a little louder as he watches the numerous stations pass him by, he’s still getting used to the transportation.

If he’s being honest, he forgot where he was supposed to stop and now he’s overground, and it’s dark and not many people got off at this stop. He follows to go down the stairs and look at the map to see where he should have gotten off. It’s quiet here. It’s eerie, and doesn’t sound like London anymore, but he still loves it, because the neighbourhood looks safe, and he does this thing where he thinks, it’d be a good place to raise a kid, even if raising a kid in London seems ridiculous in itself. The thought makes his heart twinge a little, so he stuffs it away for another day and looks back at his map.

He needs to go on the other side of the platform, he grabs his oyster card from his wallet and taps it against the machine and goes back up the stairs but on the opposite side to head back. The only sounds are the lamps and the few cars passing by. So he sits on the bench and his feet tap against the pavement and he takes a long breath as he makes a phonecall.

After a few, but long beets he hears, “Hello?” and there’s laughter in the background.

Oh. People are over. Oh.

“Dan? Are you okay?” In the background he can hear people say shh and he knows that Phil has probably gotten up from the couch now.

“I didn’t know people were over, sorr- uh, yeah, anyway.” Dan clears his throat now.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks again and then another laugh.

“Probably should entertain the guests,” Dan says with a small laugh that doesn’t mean anything, because there’s not much power or force behind it, no real emotion, and Phil has grown quite accustomed to that kind of laugh. It’s the kind of laugh that you do when you’re trying not to cry.

Dan can hear rustling in the background and then a door close.

“I think they’re alright. They ‘bout downed our wine we saved,” Phil doesn’t use the term ‘we’ or ‘our’ with Dan regularly, but it was special wine that they brought from Manchester, and that may not mean much now, but it meant a lot at the time.

“I’m just in my room now,” he quickly says after, and Dan can imagine Phil moving the strands of hair from his face over slightly.

“Okay.” Dan says, and the tube should be coming soon but this night hasn’t been going that great for him. “Um, I got lost. I’m okay now- I just uh…. Yeah. Got lost.”

“Happens to the best of us, I guess,” Phil’s laugh is gentle.

“Nah.” Dan says, shaking his head even though Phil can’t see, “Just me. I wasn’t paying attention,” It’s not that bad out here though. It’s a little cold, but Dan has his sweater and jacket on, he has enough battery life for his music and he’s not that far away from home.

“Right.” Phil’s voice is light, and he can hear moving around in the bedroom, what Dan doesn’t know is that Phil is laying on his bed and holding onto his pillow. “Did-” Phil starts to speak, and it’s always so hard, because what are they anymore? Can they have conversations like this anymore? “Did you have a good day?” his voice gets extra quiet at the word day, Dan is about to hang up, he thinks.

Dan is shocked with the question. He shouldn’t be. It’s a perfectly normal question to ask a friend. Are they friends? In the sense of the word yes, but there’s more weight to it than that.

“I--” Dan’s jaw slacks, he’s looking at the bag he has set on the ground and he takes a deep breath. It’s been awhile since Dan has had a good day, and today was just…. Another day. He woke up the same, he ate breakfast, and went on the internet, and then he left, and it was a normal day. It wasn’t a good day. Just normal.

“It was okay. It’s just a day.” The tube is pulling up to the platform now. “Tube is here,” grabbing his bag from the ground.

“Okay.” Phil sits up on the bed now, knowing he has only a couple of seconds before Dan hangs up again, but the only thing he can think of saying is this, “Try and not get lost again?” It’s a question, but Dan’s mouth starts to twitch before he realizes the weight of that question even if there wasn��t meant to be any. He breathes through the phone, a confirmation that he got his message, and he hangs up.

Dan’s better at being a host, he’s trying not to say what he feels all the time, and picks and chooses his battles wisely. He drinks more wine than he does to beer because he swears red wine “gets him there faster”. It’s a social lubricant but it helps during times of distress that he feels when there’s a group of strangers in his house that go by friends.

“I love going back home to family,” she says this time, nothing about alternate universes, but the subject this time is about as bad as the last one. Dan can’t help but smile, shaking his head a little as he gets up and pours more wine into his glass.

“We have this tradition of going out and finding a new ornament to put on our tree, I have about- oh, god, maybe twenty-four. Yeah, that’s about right, that’s my age right now,” she chuckles.

He drinks more.

His family doesn’t really do traditions, but as people go around talking about their family traditions he wishes he had some that were worth noting and mentioning. The only tradition his family had was getting a tree and eventually putting ornaments up, and it was normally his mum. She didn’t ask anyone to help her put the ornaments up with her, she just did it to get it over with, and then she would put some lights on it and call it a day.

Apparently, one of their friends parents make a special roast after putting the tree up, it celebrates unity, and Dan doesn’t have much of that in his life. Even though his body is warm he feels so cold. The harsh reality that his family doesn’t do much for anything nibbles away at his insides.

If Dan starts to talk he might slur on his words, but at least he’s acting appropriately; laughing at rather unfunny things, nodding his head in agreement to family things that he’s never had or felt, and tapping his fingers against the couch to make it look like that he’s fine, he’s fine, he’s fine.

He wants to leave them with something to remember, but Dan stays quiet as Phil walks them out of the apartment like he always does, because Phil is a gentleman, because he actually hugs them when they come and hugs them when they leave. He’s a consistent friend to many.

Phil comes back to the living room where Dan drunkenly sits and he starts picking up the messes that they made.

“I- I, uh, almost said, maybe in an alternate universe-” Dan shuts his eyes for a second and then opens them back up and Phil is staring at him intently, “maybe in an alternate universe, her and her parents don’t pick out ornaments together.” he looks up at Phil from the couch but he can barely concentrate on him since his vision is a bit blurry.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Phil smiles sadly at Dan, his fingers go out to touch him but he drops his hand and ends up moving hair out of his own eyes.

Dan and Phil were a series of almosts.

They could have been great. They were great- but they could have been better than great.

“Me too.” Dan gets up and he sways and Phil grabs him by the arm, waiting for Dan to push him off for touching him. Though there’s a little leeway off camera. It still makes Dan uncomfortable. Yet, when Phil grabs Dan’s arm, it doesn’t give Phil’s palm that burning feeling he used to feel when he touched Dan, there’s no real emotion to touching him now, it’s just like a dull feeling, something that’s been touched too many times to even recognize it anymore, and he doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Phil tries his best to lead Dan to his room, and he notices that even the distance of their rooms fits their current situation. Because that was truth wasn’t it? They had always been close but never close enough. They were almost there, only a few inches, spaces, between them.

Dan’s head hurts badly and he shouldn’t have drank that much tonight but he couldn’t help it, or maybe he could have, but he didn’t want to. For once in his life he wanted to feel a little out of control but even when he was drunk he was so hyper aware of everything surrounding him. He still knew that he had to change out of his clothes he was wearing if he really wanted to sleep and be comfortable, but for the sake of tonight he crawls into bed, Phil helping him get under the covers and he pulls them up. This is around the time that Dan would say he’s not a child, because he’s not, but he doesn’t feel like starting something and going to bed hurt and angry.

And as much as Dan didn’t want to admit it, Phil was a part of him, in every sense of the word, in every way, they picked up things from each other that they didn’t know that they picked up from each other, they had the same friends, and had the same taste in foods and tv shows and books. They went to the same places together most of the time, and still ate dinner together sometimes, even if Dan ate on the couch and Phil ate at the table. And there were times that Dan would look at Phil and think of that second of almost, or the way that his eyes twinkle when he’s talking about something that he likes, and maybe this was the alcohol, but he knows its repressing everything that he’s been feeling for so long, and it won’t come pouring out tonight, he has a little self control, but he can at least think about it.

“I drank too much,” Dan moans into his pillow, and Phil is still in the room, sitting at the edge of the bed in complete darkness. Phil rests a hand on his leg, sort of, very lightly, but he can’t feel it because of the covers, or at least he thinks.

They both knew eventually it would happen. They’d be stuck in a moment they couldn’t exactly get out of without one of them leaving, but Phil wasn’t leaving. Dan was right with Phil being a consistent friend. Thick and thin. They’re sitting in Dan’s room, and the only thing that you can hear is the nightlife outside their window, a group of teenagers yelling at each other about places they’re going to try and get into- a siren driving to an emergency. Phil thinks of all the moments that they had gotten drunk together and ended up being tangled limbs in the morning, and Dan would hold him for a couple of hours, counting freckles and moving back hairs from eyes.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

It’s a painful thing to know so much about a person and not really know anything at all. The future was something that never really terrified Phil, other than maybe dying, he wanted to live forever, but maybe not forever anymore if it consists of useless knowledge about the one you love. Who may or may not love you back.

If only they were strangers again- maybe they’d do this thing right.

Dan is trying to get comfortable and Phil gets up from his spot on the bed.

“Maybe Dan in an alternate universe isn’t drunk, or, you know- maybe he is, but, he’s happy. He has family traditions, and he was the one who said it tonight. Except you know, it’d be twenty-two ornaments.” Phil quietly says as he reaches for the door.

He doesn’t know if he’s hearing things, but he swears he hears: maybe.

vi.

Dan is looking at other apartments, somehow their apartment fluctuates from being too small for Dan or too big- depending how his mental health is that day. He knows that getting an apartment won’t fix it. He’s not even sure if he’s able to get an apartment just by himself and be able to make the monthly payment. He’s had a lot of time to think about it, but he trusts the realtor he found, and he’s just looking.

He meets with the realtor at Starbucks, and he gets a Caramel Machiatto, and finishes it by the time they get to the first apartment. It’s actually not that far from where they live now. He throws the cup away, sticks his hands in his pockets because it’s still so bloody cold. She’s making small talk and he keeps on thinking of how much better Phil is about talking to strangers and knowing what to say and what questions to ask.

The realtor talks about previous owners, she talks about how beautiful it is for it’s price, and she talks about the view, and if he were to ever have a pet that it was pet welcomed. She’s talking about things that he doesn’t quite understand yet because he’s twenty-two and he knows that he needs to understand a lot of this stuff but he’s still as lost as ever, so he nods his head and leans in like he understands what it means.

By the end she asks him if he wants to see one more and he tells her he’s had enough for the day- but she’s given him a lot to think about it, which is true. The London weather is terrible this time of year and it’s raining again, he pulls his hood up and walks to the bus stop. Earbuds in and his oyster card ready to swipe he leans against the pole. He can’t imagine himself living anywhere else but at the flat that he shares with Phil, but he can’t stop thinking about that night. Because while Phil thought he wasn’t aware, he knew, it had always been different with Phil. He didn’t want to push him away because he didn’t want him to leave. He knew that he had a lot of underlying problems that he had to deal with. He knew that there were issues that needed to be worked out, but he didn’t know how to try and fix it, he didn’t know if he could. Dan didn’t want to ask for help either, because he figured if it was meant to be- if it was important enough- it would work itself out. Yet, he knew he didn’t really believe in fate, it was something that people told other people to help them feel better. But he didn’t know how to explain Phil.

The sounds of the bus braking tear Dan away from his thoughts, he follows in the orderly line into the bus, swiping his card and he walks up the stairs to the second floor of the bus and sits at the very front, his feet resting on the bar in front of him and he leans back in his seat as much as he can, it doesn’t help that he’s tall, but he tries to get comfortable and he closes his eyes, letting the music take him.

He doesn’t realize that he’s dozed off until he feels someone sitting next to him, his eyes snap open and the bus is full of people now than what it was a couple stops ago. He looks at where they are right now and he’s not even sure where he is. Again. He sighs, getting up and walking down the stairs and the bus starts to move again and he holds onto the rail as tight as he can, in a couple of minutes the bus will stop and he’ll get out and assess where he needs to go.

From what he’s seeing he needs to take the underground which is not too far of a walk from where he got off, he looks for a crowd that seems to be going the same way and follows them. The streets are wet and cars are flying past him and his ankles are soaked at least. Without thinking about it he’s already pressing on Phil’s name in his contacts, because as it turned out- the first person Dan wants to call when he’s lost is Phil.

(he has yet to figure that part out.)

Phil answers a moment later, and Dan sighs annoyed at himself.

“Phil, I’m lost again,” he runs a hand through his hair, trying to stay far back away from the group but be close enough as to not lose sight of them.

“Again?” Phil chuckles softly on the other line and Dan’s can’t help but smile a little bit.

“What were you doing?” Phil is at home right now, editing a video, and they don’t really tell each other when they’re leaving the house, they just go.

Dan takes a deep breath and turns left with the group and can see in the distance the underground sign. “I uh, well, I was looking at apartments,” He regrets looking at apartments once he said it. Because it meant a lot of things. And he was trying so hard to not hurt Phil anymore. He was trying to be a better friend. After all the things that Phil had done for Dan, he’s looking to get away from him because it’s easier for Dan to concentrate, and he thinks of how fucked up that is.

“But um… it was unsuccessful. It didn’t really mean anything.” That’s one of Dan’s favourite phrases lately. Phil’s heard it a lot this year.

Yet, he knows. He knows why he probably went to look at apartments. Phil wasn’t the only one feeling it too. Whatever that feeling was- it hadn’t had a name but it was a presence all on it’s own. Phil doesn’t say anything and Dan is just breathing into the phone and he can hear Phil doing the same. It was for a single moment back when they used to fall asleep on the phone with each other. They didn’t have to say anything to know that the other person was there and that they were listening, even if it was listening to the sound of the other breathing. It was sad in the way that they wanted so badly to just. Live together to actually living together and Dan not crashing at Phil’s and sleeping and taking all the covers, to having his own room, to looking for a new apartment.

“A lot of things you say don’t mean anything, these days,” Phil doesn’t say this with a bitter tone, but Dan can hear the sadness in his voice. It’s the same kind of sadness when Dan suggested they start sleeping in their respective bedrooms, the same sadness when he said they should go on a break indefinitely.

And well- Phil was Phil, and he agreed to it.

Dan sighs again, and he’s trying hard not to cry, he’s balling his free hand into a tiny little fist and taking a deep breath, somehow it gives him a sense of control. He’s biting down on his lower lip so hard it starts to bleed a little.

“I know.” Dan quietly says over the phone, the drizzle of rain starts to become more prominent but Dan knows that the water on his cheeks isn’t from that- it’s from him. He sniffs a little and shakes his head, telling himself to get a grip.

They don’t speak for a long time, well, it felt like a long time but it was only about a minute and Dan was getting close to the tube station.

“Hey, Dan?”

It takes a lot out of him, hearing Phil’s voice, because he had memorized it over the years, when they first started talking, he could predict what he was going to say with the tone of his voice, having heard all of it over hours of skype and talking on the phone when they were out and about; it was the kind of voice that felt like the first few moments of spring, a beautiful pink and purple sunrise to be woken to after days of rain. It sounded like hope and promise.

“Try not to get lost again. I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.”

Dan takes another breath, slowly exhaling, closing his eyes for a second, nodding his head. Phil is the first to hang up this time. And that’s okay.

Phil was waiting for him.

When Dan got on the tube he thought a lot about the concept of alternate universes and why he was so against it in the first place. Maybe because at the time Phil was for it so that meant Dan had to be against it. In truth- Dan liked the idea of alternate universes. He liked the idea of there being different Dan’s in different universes and that maybe he was happy in them, like Phil said. Maybe things worked out for him in the end. Maybe he was someone else. Maybe he ended up with Phil. Maybe he didn’t. Which got him to thinking about Phil and why he was for it- maybe Phil believed all along that they’d end up together. He was waiting for him, after all. Maybe he was waiting for him in the other universes too, not just this one. He’d like to think that the Dan and Phil’s in all the universes made it out okay- and that they got to achieve all the things they wanted to achieve. And were in love in all the ways they were, and are, without all that pain and hurt.

Because at the end of the day everyone wants someone to talk to. Someone to be able to come home to regardless of circumstances in the past, present, and future. Someone to love and be loved by. And for Dan that was Phil, who was waiting for him while he figured himself out.

When the tube came to a halt Dan checked to see if it was his stop and it was.

It was time to go home.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #phan angst #light angst (well what i think is light lol)#i tried my best editing this but im so delirious rn #i did my best pals

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