#okay so this is kinda awkwardly written but oh well i am happy with it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satendou · 4 years ago

Text

⟼ monster

⍣ all time low series | next | 1/4

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: tendo/reader

⇢ au: atl!au, college!au

⇢ summary: you like horror movies, tendou likes horror movies, what could go wrong?

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, mentions of bullying, insecurities, piercings, cursing

⇢ word count: 13.2k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: i think this is the biggest fic i’ve ever written and it’s one of my favorites, if not my absolute favorite i’ve written so far. it was kinda hard to write it in a way that stayed true to my vision for it but also didn’t make it childish, so i hope i succeeded in that regard. as always, thank you to @keijiskitten for editing this!

“Oh, come on, ‘Kaashi,” you said, setting your hand on your hip. You were standing around in the middle of the classroom with him and a few others, waiting for your professor to show up who was no doubt getting a coffee from the overflowing Starbucks down the street. Class would be half over before he finally arrived. “It’s just a few scary movies.”

“Sorry, _____. I have to study and I just know that trying to watch movies with you and study is gonna be a nightmare,” he said, giving you a sympathetic look. “And give me nightmares.”

You rolled your eyes and looked around to Bokuto, who was scrolling through his phone while he chatted with Yaku about the next practice. That was a hard no. Poor Bo would agree without complaint and wind up with nightmares for a week, clinging to you throughout the night. Catching Akaashi’s eye, you exchanged knowing looks and chuckles.

“Hey, _____,” Semi said from your other side. He was busy filling out a music sheet with notes for his next possible song, and the way he said your name indicated he was more focused on that than your quandary.

Still, you turned to look at him over your shoulder, quirking your eyebrow at him. When he didn’t immediately continue, you prompted him. “What’s up?”

“Oh, right,” he said, looking up from the paper. He gave you a small smile and tapped the tip of his pencil on the desk in a smooth rhythm, leaving small marks all over the surface. “You should see if Tendo wants to join you. He’s really into horror movies too.”

“Um, who?”

Semi’s eyes widened in surprise and he pointed over his shoulder. You could hear Akaashi snicker from your other side. The chair on Semi’s other side tipped back on its back legs, and a man with close-cut red hair peeked around his back, waving cheekily at you.

“Hi, name’s Tendo Satori. I’ve only been hanging around you for about two weeks now,” he said and, though he sounded lighthearted and jovial about it, you could see the way his eyes remained narrowed, scrutinizing you. And he didn’t look impressed.

You flushed bright red, realizing you did know him but had never committed his name to memory. Mostly because he hadn’t ever really said anything to you or seemed interested in you at all.

“I-- well, I’m sorry,” you offered awkwardly. But you meant it, at least. You felt a bit bad now that he was in your face. Trying to lighten the mood, you joked, “I’m _____ _____ and my brain space is committed to horror movies and studying. No space for names I’m afraid.”

Semi rolled his eyes and Akaashi heaved a long-suffering sigh, covering his eyes with his hand, but Tendo laughed at your stupid joke. His eyes eased up, his smile relaxing, and he now looked genuinely interested.

“A horror movie marathon, huh? I’m interested. Why don’t you tell me more?”

Tendo didn’t actually expect it to go his way. As with most other people, he was sure you were just faking your enthusiasm and would flake out once you were free of him.

And yet when lunch rolled around and your group of friends were standing in the breezeway, shivering as you tried to pick out some place to go and eat off campus, you fell into step beside him.

“I really am sorry for not knowing who you were,” you offered, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and slipping a pair of gloves on. “Could we, maybe--”

He cut you off, grinning. “Forgiven and forgotten, _____.”

Hesitantly, you smiled back. He was strange, to be sure. Even though you hadn’t really had a true conversation with him yet, you got the feeling he was different, eccentric and unpredictable maybe. The way he harassed the shit out of Semi and some of the others was hysterical, though. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made you feel that way, but it wasn’t bad. You were even a little curious.

“Okay cool. So if, by chance, we were to do this movie marathon, how would you feel about cannibals?” you asked, tapping your chin thoughtfully. It was a theme you had been thinking about for a while, but none of your friends were into horror movies much, let alone a dozen or so movies centered around such a gory theme.

Tendo clicked his tongue and you heard a strange clink. “Hypothetically, right?”

“Right,” you said, your eyes zeroed in on his mouth, waiting for him to speak again.

He hummed, his lips curling in thought and his eyes narrowing as he stared off in the distance. Second in height only to Bokuto, he towered over everyone even though the two of you walked together at the back of the group. Speaking of Bokuto, you could hear him over the chatter of the other students around you, talking about the diner just a block away from the school and guessed that that was where you were going.

Then he shrugged. “That sounds rad. What’re you thinking? Hypothetically.”

“Well, obviously gotta go with The Hills Have Eyes. I mean, it’s a classic. And then of course Wrong Turn because there’s so many of those. And, uh…that’s all I have, but that’s literally like 8 movies and if we get past those I don’t know what we’ll do,” you said, weaving through the throngs of people on the sidewalk. You had forgotten you had been trying to see what was in his mouth just a few minutes ago as you avoided toes. You could see the diner sign up ahead, reading “Newly Opened” and a list of menu items, but it was otherwise obscured from your view.

A gasp from Tendo startled you and you whipped around to look at him, only to find him staring at you in disbelief.

He had to fight the laugh in his chest from coming up at the wide-eyed, freaked out look on your face as he said, “I cannot believe you’ve forgotten the most classic of classic cannibal movies, _____. How could you forget The Texas Chainsaw Massacre movies?”

Relief mingled with amusement on your face when you realized what he was getting at, and you covered your mouth as you laughed. Putting on your best ashamed expression, you closed your eyes. “I can’t believe I forgot those. I’m such a fake fan.”

“Kicked out of the club for sure,” he said, holding the door open for you. The bustle of the diner drowned out anything more Tendo said as you followed the others towards a large table in the back corner. After that, you were seated between Semi and Akaashi and the conversation was halted.

For the time being.

You didn’t bring up the marathon again, though you snagged Tendo’s number the day after you went to the diner. The conversation started out about movies and morphed into other topics like majors, highschools, how he knew Eita and how you had met Bokuto and Akaashi, amongst others. It left Tendo in a bit of confusion. The two of you kept up a steady stream of communication throughout the day, even sneaking in texts during classes that could net you extra work or pop quizzes. And yet never once was the marathon mentioned.

Part of him was bummed because he had kind of been looking forward to the movies, but the larger part of him was unsurprised. Something like that was way too intimate, and for someone like you to want to do something like that with a-- someone like him was too much to hope for. He was just happy that you weren’t avoiding him like most others did; he wasn’t going to ask for more.

Except he kind of did want more, and he didn’t want to feel that. The disappointment was already tangible on his tongue and he swallowed it down every time he saw you in the hall, chatting or laughing with someone else. It would ease slightly when you would turn to look in his direction, flashing a smile and waving as you passed by. In class, you started sitting beside him, Bokuto and Akaashi often following behind, and he found his small group of friends growing because of you. Bokuto was loud and brash and treated him like they were best friends, and Akaashi’s quiet demeanor reminded him a lot of Ushijima. Except he was maybe a little more expressive.

You even started walking home with him, parting ways when you had to go in different directions with a soft smile and a shine in your eyes that he tried not to read too much into. He enjoyed those days, when no one else was around and he just talked. You even knew some of the manga he read, and he lost himself rambling about Jump. When he brought it up once, about how he talked too much, you shook your head frantically.

“No, no, I don’t mind! It reminds me of Bokuto, to be honest. He can talk about anything and keep a conversation going so easily. I’m kinda jealous,” you said, giving him that satisfied smile again.

He tried to clamp down on the feelings, to keep a tight rein on the emotions that kept trying to pull his eyes in your direction anytime he heard your voice or drew his thoughts to you late at night.

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, frustrated at the fact that he was thinking of you a-fuckin’-gain. Didn’t he have enough to worry about without wondering what you thought of him? He already knew. You weren’t interested. It was fine.

His phone dinged, the screen lighting up to reveal your name and a text.

You: ‘watcha up to?’ Tendo: ‘nm. studying and suffering. you?’ Y: ‘“studying” sksks what’re you doing tomorrow night by chance?’

Tendo’s heart stuttered in his chest and he groaned, barely resisting the urge to fling his phone out the frost covered window in front of him. For the love of god, could the universe stop fucking with him? Clicking his tongue, he considered telling you he was busy. It would be easiest, and save him the disappointment that was sure to accompany whatever you had planned.

But his fingers were traitorous and typed out exactly what he didn’t want to say. Or so he told himself.

T: ‘nothin. what’re you thinkin?’ Y: ‘well...i’m thinkin about cannibals’

Tendou snorted at that and watched the three little dots appear again.

Y: ‘and u’

He choked and slammed his phone down on the desk, wincing and immediately picking it back up to check the damage. No, no way, he wouldn’t look at it like that. It wasn’t like that. You were just inviting him for the movie marathon in a totally platonic way.

Another message came in.

Y: ‘and me’

You were actually trying to kill him.

He could think of nothing the next day but how much he was looking forward to that night. Once he had finally gotten his shit together enough to text you back, the kinks had been worked out. It was almost a no brainer that he would be spending the night. A movie marathon with twelve movies meant an all-nighter, if the two of you could pull it off. He would go home after classes, while away the few hours until around six o’clock, and then head to the address you had given him.

Unfortunately, he didn’t see much of you that day. You shared no classes, and you had a class when he took lunch, so he ate with Semi and Bokuto that day. Instead you snuck texts to him when you could, mostly talking about how excited you were for that night. It didn’t help, somehow both fanning and soothing his inner turmoil.

“Why do you look like you’re gonna throw up?” Semi asked at last. Tendo was staring at his half-eaten chicken sandwich like it had mortally offended him, and he was curious.

Tendo jumped, having forgotten the other two were even with him, and shook his head. “Uh, nothin’.”

But Bokuto snickered and leaned in to whisper to Semi, who was already suspicious of his short, clipped answer. Whether he actually wanted to whisper or not, Tendo wasn’t sure, but Bo sure as shit didn’t manage it. “Him and _____ are gonna watch movies tonight.”

Of course you had told Bokuto. And probably Akaashi too. He wondered if they had changed their minds and decided to join you when they found out. It put a rather annoying feeling in his chest, like someone was squeezing his heart.

The other two were still talking in a loud whisper, watching Tendo’s expression shift and flicker through a myriad of emotions. Bokuto was lost, but Semi could recognize them after so many years of knowing the moody red-head, and wanted to laugh. He was so good at hiding his negative emotions, but when it came to sadness or happiness, he was like an open book. And he was being pretty obvious right then.

“Wow, that’s pretty big, Tendo,” he said, watching his friend closely. Tendo flinched, shrinking into his hoodie, and Semi nodded to himself. “Don’t let yourself get so worked up. She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want to.”

He knew where Tendo’s insecurities were coming from. A childhood fraught with bullies and fake friends and people pretending they wanted him around only to treat him like a freak. Even through highschool it was that way, with a particularly nasty incident involving a girl pretending to want to date him that ended with Tendo refusing to come to school for almost a week. After that, he kept to himself and the volleyball club, refusing to even acknowledge that anyone else might actually want to get to know him seriously.

It had gotten a bit easier when he left Shiratorizawa and those memories and most of those people behind. Growing up with them was what had made it hardest, so surrounding himself with fresh people who didn’t have any preconceived notions and rumors about him had allowed him to open up a little. Even Ushijima, across the ocean in California, noticed a marked difference in Tendo’s demeanor.

Semi just hoped you didn’t do anything to send him spiralling back into his insecurities.

“Yeah, I guess.”

It was easy for Semi to say that, but he had no idea what it was like, constantly worrying if people were being serious or if they were just waiting to pull the rug out from under him. Even now, he was fighting with himself to just get through the day, waiting constantly for you to change your mind and cancel the plans. Every time his phone lit up with your name, he expected it.

And yet, even after his classes ended and he arrived home, you didn’t. Just commenting that you would be MIA for a while while you cleaned the apartment and went to the store. And when you came back a few hours later, while he was binging Buzzfeed Unsolved videos, his heart leapt into his throat, but you were only telling him what you had gotten for him and to pick up anything else he might want on the way over.

The time couldn’t pass by fast enough while he busied himself packing as slowly as he could. He was already wearing sweatpants but brought a pair of basketball shorts just in case. A clean t-shirt and the other essential items he would need for the night went into a backpack, and when that was done he decided it was a good time to leave.

Unable to help himself, he sent you a text before he left, interrupting whatever you were already typing, the three little bubbles disappearing for a moment while you read his text.

T: ‘you sure you’re alright with this? i don’t have to come over’ Y: ‘?’ Y: ‘do u not want to!’ Y: ‘?*’ Y: ‘we can do this another time if you want’

He was typing before he could really think about the possibility that that might be the best option, his heart thumping harder than he liked in his chest, and he willed himself to take a deep breath. It was just two friends hanging out, watching horror movies together. Nothing more.

T: ‘no i do. was just making sure you were still ok w it.’ T: ‘leaving now to get snacks. your choices s u c k’ Y: ofc hurry up and get over here Y: ‘tf rude’

Locking the door behind him, he slung his bag onto his shoulder and sighed, hoping the night didn’t end as badly as his nerves were telling him it would.

Your doorbell rang an hour later, while you were in the middle of setting up your room for the binge. You were hoping he wouldn’t mind, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. It was hard to miss the nervousness and the way he seemed to shy away from you sometimes, especially when you did certain things like reach out to pull something off his hoodie or read something over his shoulder. But you wanted this to be as normal as possible, to prove to him you were genuine.

You liked Tendo. A lot.

He was funny and sweet and just as eccentric as you had expected. His jokes were off-color but not offensive, just sarcastic and witty and you giggled every time. The way his face lit up when he heard you sent your heart into a frenzy, and the way it fell and he seemed to shrink into himself a moment later hurt. It didn't feel like a rejection of you but instead a rejection of himself and you wondered if there was any way to help him understand that you didn’t want anything from him but for him to be himself.

Upon opening the door, you found it was only the pizza delivery man, and you smiled with disappointment, until you spotted a shaved red-head coming up behind him.

Tendo gulped when he spotted you in your open doorway, wearing woolen leggings and a t-shirt, exchanging a box of pizza for cash and smiling brightly at him over the man’s shoulder. Waving, he waited until the stranger was out of the way before he approached you.

“Hey,” he greeted, peering down at you before scanning the empty living room of your apartment over your head.

You were unsurprised to see the wariness in his eyes, bleeding into the smile he was forcing on his face. It was your first time seeing a look so fake on him and for the first time you wondered if this was really a good idea. But it was only movies. And you liked Tendo. It would be fine.

So you smiled and ushered him in with one hand, the box perched precariously on your other, and watched him shrink into himself like he always did when he came within touching distance of you until he had passed into the living room. Then he just stood there, peering around with that same suspicious look, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down at the corners.

“So, what do you think?” you asked, pretending you hadn’t seen it as you moved into the kitchen.

“It’s nice,” he answered, letting his bag hit the floor with a thump. The rest of the apartment was silent save for the heater going, and little by little he felt himself relaxing. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for little ol’ me, y’know.”

You giggled at the way he pointed at himself, wearing a cheesy grin as he walked into the kitchen. “Maybe not, but it’s been ages since I’ve been able to do anything like this. It’s as much for me as it is for you.” You punctuated your statement by poking him lightly in the chest, and he feigned pain.

“You wound me. And here I thought you were treating me special,” he moaned, leaning back against the counter and placing his hand over his forehead. He grinned a little hearing you giggle again, and then the pizza box hit his arm.

“I am treating you special, you goof,” you said, opening it up and letting the smell of cheese fill the kitchen. “With pizza. But I think we’d better take it into the bedroom, since that’s where we’ll be watching the movies. Just in case we fall asleep, you know,” you tacked on at the end, suddenly realizing how that might sound. Not that it meant anything, but again, you feared making him uncomfortable.

Absorbed in your thoughts, you missed the faint dusting of pink on his cheeks, clashing marvelously with his vibrant hair. You carried the box down to your bedroom with Tendo on your heels, eager to see your room. It was about what he expected from you-- a messy bed, a cluttered desk, clothes half in your laundry basket and half on the floor surrounding it. The TV sitting on your dresser was already set up with The Hills Have Eyes menu playing, volume muted. You set the box on the bed before smoothing the covers and crawling on.

Tendo hovered in the middle of your room, casting his eyes around nervously, looking for a chair or something to sit on. He definitely did not want to assume, but you patted the bed beside you, giving him a quizzical look.

“I’m not gonna bite, Tendo. Promise,” you said, and though you made it sound like a joke he could hear a line of seriousness at the core. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, he walked slowly towards you, giving you every opportunity to change your mind, but you just looked impatient until he climbed on beside you. “Alright, now let’s get this started!”

Two movies in and the two of you had gotten pretty comfortable. Both of you had stretched out on the bed, but you had decided to lean up against the headboard with your pillows to support you while Tendo had opted to lay on his stomach with his head resting on his arms by your feet.

“Would you stop?” he laughed, pushing your foot away where it had been tapping incessantly at his shoulder. You were just doing it to annoy him, and you giggled at the irritated amusement in his voice.

The pizza box sat empty on the floor by the bed, but you found yourself craving something else to eat. When you hummed, Tendo looked away from the screen, rolling onto his side and propping his chin in his hand to watch you nibble at your lip. It was cute, he couldn’t lie, and the anxiety he had repressed by getting distracted by the movie came back slowly.

“What’s up?”

“I’m thinkin’ about...those chips,” you answered, and made to get up. You had to crawl over his long legs and almost fell off the bed as you gracelessly made your move, knee slipping off the small space between his leg and the edge of the mattress. Sticking your tongue out as he laughed at you, you pranced towards the door.

“Bring my bags too, would you?” he called, pausing the movie since you had forgotten. It had just started, and you were lucky that he was nice enough to do it, especially when he heard your voice carry back down the hallway.

“Kiss my ass, Tendo.”

He laughed at that, loud enough that you could hear it from the kitchen and over the crinkling of the bags as you rifled through them. In the end, you shrugged and carried them all back down to your room, along with a few drinks. Maybe you wouldn’t have to get up again for a little while.

You shivered when you stepped back into the room. It wasn’t much warmer than the rest of the house, and now your arms and toes were cold. The heater was already set as high as it would go and hardly touched the chill, and you cursed the cheap piece of crap.

“What, you cold?” he asked, pulling out a bag of the chips he had brought with him. The tab on a can of soda popped and he cursed as it fizzed over onto your blanket. “Shit, sorry.”

“No worries. Yeah, kinda. But the heater is already on full blast. Ugh,” you said, sitting beside him on the bed again. He was still wearing his hoodie, and up close he was warm, making you realize just how cold you were. You were just gonna have to crawl under your blankets because you would never survive the cold like that. “Wait…”

There was a tent on the screen where the movie had paused, and Tendo looked back and forth from it to you with curiosity. There was a calculating look on your face and he wasn’t sure he liked it. “Uh, what?”

There was no way he would agree to it. Way too intimate, right? But it really seemed like it’d be right up his alley, and it would be fun to build, and it would get you warm. It was the perfect idea really.

“Tendo, how do you feel about making...a pillow fort?”

The heater continued to buzz in the corner, overlaid by the slight static from the TV, while Tendo processed your question. His mouth had fallen open, brows furrowed while he stared at you in what could only be surprise, and you laughed nervously.

“Wha-- Seriously?”

“Um, you know what, nevermind. I guess it was a stupid idea. It just seemed like it might be fun and--”

He cut your babbling off with an excited wave of his arms, leaning forward into your space and in the light from the TV you could see a childlike happiness glowing in his eyes. “I’ve never made one but it sounds like fun. You know how to do it?”

Stunned by the turn of events, you nodded. “Well, sort of. Mine have always fallen down after a while though,” you admitted, standing up from the bed again. “We need chairs and books and all the blankets and pillows we can find. And the couch cushions. Probably.”

In no time flat you had everything gathered, with Tendou hovering around waiting for you to direct him. It was a pain to get everything set up, and you ended up using the bed since you didn’t have enough chairs. Moving the chairs all over the place until there was enough room inside and you could put the books down to seal the ‘walls’ was tedious, but it was worth it when Tendo crawled in to set up the cushions to seal the space beneath the bed. After padding the floor with several blankets to lay on, you stuffed the pillows from your bed in after Tendo. When you didn’t immediately crawl in after him, he poked his head out to see what you were doing.

“Well, we didn’t think this through at all, so now we gotta watch the movies on my laptop,” you said as you ejected the DVD from your player. The jingle of your computer booting up played and backlit your face in the glow, and you prayed it wasn’t going to go right into an update. It took a few minutes to start up, so you passed it to him while you plugged the power cord in and ran it into the fort.

You could hear the clicking of the mousepad and by the time you flipped off the light and crawled in beside Tendo, the movie menu was playing. You also realized just how cramped it really was with Tendo’s lanky form inside. There was just enough space for both of you, but you were going to have to either sit up with it in your lap or you were going to have to set it to the side of you and lay on your sides.

He was tense, staring determinedly at the movie playing and trying to avoid moving too much. Or so you guessed, anyway. Anytime you so much as shifted he would jerk away before relaxing, and you were a split second away from nixing the idea. A part of you was starting to wonder if it wasn’t you that was the problem, but if it was, why had he bothered to agree?

“You’re really warm, Tendo,” you said, trying to break the ice. It was an awkward and clumsy attempt, but maybe you could help him settle down if you showed him you weren’t uncomfortable first?

But that just made him pull further away, leaning against the couch cushions. “Oh, sorry.”

It was already warm and comfortable in your little fort, a light blanket thrown over your knees and warming your toes. And with him beside you, you were actually a little more than comfortable. “No,” you said, waving your hands frantically, “no, like, it’s nice. I’m finally warm.”

It was hard to tell in the washed out light of the laptop, but Tendo’s face turned a very bright shade of pink. He tugged the neck of his hoodie up over his nose and fixed his eyes firmly on the flickering violence, annoyed that he was overwhelmed by something so simple. Why did you have to be so damn cute?

But it did the trick, even if he didn’t know that was your intention. He finally relaxed and stopped flinching every time you shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Sitting cross legged only worked for so long and Tendo noticed you moving around after a while, when your knee knocked his for the third or fourth time.

“You alright? You’re about to bring the whole fort down,” he commented around a mouthful of chips.

“Ah, well, my back is starting to hurt sitting up, I guess. I wanna lay down,” you said, sounding whinier than you meant to, following it up with a short stretch. It alleviated the pain for a moment, until you hunched over again.

He swallowed his chips and returned his eyes to the TV screen, thinking. On one hand, he wasn’t exactly comfortable. On the other, he had no idea what you were thinking. Did you want to abandon the fort?

But you didn’t say anything, fiddling with the blanket for a few moments as you tried to work up your courage. You damn sure didn’t want to tear down your fort-- it had taken you way too long to put the stupid thing up-- and if you said the idea of cuddling up with Tendo wasn’t appealing, you would surely go to hell for lying. The underlying problem was him. What would he say if you brought up the obvious solution?

You were taking too long to answer, so Tendo prompted you, pausing the movie. “Do you want to just get back on the bed again?”

“No,” you said, and then flinched. You had answered way too quickly and that somehow made him nervous and reassured at the same time. “This is really nice I just…I-know-that-you’re-kind-of-uncomfortable-and-I-don’t-want-to-make-you-more-uncomfortable.”

Tendou stared at you, unblinking as he tried to decipher your breathlessly rushed words. After a moment he laughed, still confused, but he could see the anxiety on your face. “I-- what? All I heard was uncomfortable, I think. But you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

Your heart thumped painfully in your chest as that weight left your shoulders. He was so intuitive it was almost scary. Even still, you had to make sure. “Oh, really? You always seem like...weird around me, I guess. I was starting to think I was pushing too hard, I guess?”

“Sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head. His elbow brushed the sheet above you and he quickly dropped it. “I’m used to people being uncomfortable around me. Guess it just turned into a habit to avoid people I don’t know. So that I don’t freak them out.”

Not entirely true, given that he enjoyed messing with people, but it was true in your* case. It took you a moment to answer, and he started to worry that he had said too much.

“You don’t...make me uncomfortable, Tendo. You never did. You’re a weirdo but not...in a bad way,” you said, and glanced at him to gauge his reaction, worried he would take it in a negative light.

But he was smiling, eyes fixed on the paused movie and you bit your lip. He was way too attractive and you couldn’t fathom anyone who thought otherwise. Clearly they were just cowards.

“Well that’s a relief. It would make things pre-tty awkward right now if I did,” he said and bumped your shoulder. It felt like a whole planet was lifted off his shoulders with this revelation and he heaved a huge sigh. “So, if we don’t want to abandon the fort but our backs are about to crumble, what do we do?”

“Uh.” You blanched, having forgotten about that little hiccup. Your idea was embarrassing to think about let alone explain and if you hadn’t made him uncomfortable yet this was sure to.

“Uh,” he mocked, and twisted around like a snake so his face was in front of you, blocking the light from the screen. “Spit it out before we collapse.”

“Just-- um--” you stuttered, and he quickly realized whatever your idea was, it had you flustered. He was just about to start teasing when you picked up the laptop and set it to the side of you. Rolling over onto your side, you tucked your hand underneath your pillow and relaxed, feeling the pain immediately alleviate. “Now you lay down. If you want.”

Your heart was racing in your chest, waiting for him to do something. It was a long, long minute before he finally said anything, and it wasn’t what you expected. Not that you had any idea of what to expect.

“Uh, are you sure? I mean, we could just--” What was he thinking? This was exactly what he wanted and wasn’t it Semi who had said she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want it? Did he really have to overthink everything? You were in a literal pillow fort watching scary movies with him, offering to let him cuddle up with you, and he still thought you weren’t sure.

“Well, unless you aren’t,” you said, and was that disappointment in your voice? No way.

“No no, no. I’m gonna take my hoodie off first, though. It’s way too warm in here now,” he said, backtracking quickly. Then again, maybe it was just him that was too hot. It was an actual dream come true, and he pinched himself quickly just to make sure he wasn’t asleep.

You rolled over onto your back to watch him struggle, his arms brushing the ceiling and walls of your warm little haven as he fought the hoodie. Your eyes widened as it finally came free, seeing the colorful swirls of ink covering his arms. “Holy shit.”

“Wha--?” he said, and turned to find you staring open mouthed at his tattoos. “Oh, right, I guess you haven’t seen these before, huh?”

“Nope,” you said, sitting up and squinting to see the undefined shapes in the faint light. It was almost cute the way he held his arm out to you hesitantly, like a child offering you a drawing to examine and praise. Taking it, you traced the lines covering his smooth, warm skin, trying to figure out what they were. But the shapes were undefinable in the faint light. You could make out splashes of blue and purple, red and pink, separated by black lines or faded together to make something. Part of you wanted to ask, but there was something mysterious about not knowing. “I can’t even tell what they are but god, Tendou, I know they’re gorgeous.”

He shivered at your featherlight touches, the feel of your fingers skimming delicately over his skin, and your words caused fire to erupt in his stomach and chest. His tattoos were something he was extremely proud of, one of the few things he had that made him feel confident, and hearing you compliment them made him feel so fucking good. Chucking his jacket out into the room, he returned to your side and the two of you got comfortable.

Pressing play on the movie for the 3rd time, the two of you fell silent. With your head below his chin, it was the perfect position for him to see the screen over you. You could feel the warmth rolling off of him, only an inch of space between his chest and your back, and both of you were well aware of it.

It was nearly impossible to focus on the movie, trying to reign in the urge to just slide back a little bit and mold yourself to him. Nibbling at your lip, you rolled just a little under the pretense of stretching and bumped into him. Just your arm into his, and he didn’t move away.

“You good? Need more space? I can crawl under the bed if you want,” he said, smirking at you. He thought he knew what you were playing at, but your next words confirmed it. It was the oldest trick in the book and, even though no one had ever used it on him, he had seen it at work with Semi and Shirabu too many times.

“Just stretching. I’m still a bit cold though,” you said, facing the TV again.

Suppressing a snicker, knowing damn well that wasn’t what you were after, he offered, “I can get you another blanket, if you need it.”

The silhouette of your shoulders fell, and you couldn’t hide the sigh that accompanied it. “It’s alright, Tendo. It’s not that bad.”

You really should have seen that coming, you guessed. The swell of hope and the crash of disappointment was painful in your chest, and you tried to focus on the movie again, ignoring the tempting warmth at your back. If he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t interested. It was cool.

Which was why you jumped when a weight settled over your side, a snicker filtering behind you as he molded himself to your back. It was slow, hesitant, and you would guess he was trying to make sure you were alright with it. Warmth seeped through your t-shirt and you sighed happily, shimmying back into him out of instinct, and this time you could feel his quiet laughter in his chest.

His arms were so long that he had to fold it in front of you, hand coming to rest just underneath your chin, and when you relaxed so did he. With his chin resting atop your head now, he asked, “Better? This is what you wanted, right?”

“Shut up,” you whined, hiding your face in your hand. It was embarrassing enough without him having to tease you about it. But you supposed it wouldn’t be Tendo if he didn’t make fun of you for everything. It was so easy after that to focus on the movie, now that you had gotten what you wanted. The snacks lay forgotten near your feet, not wanting to move and mess up the delicate balance that was now between the two of you.

It was tenuous and any small movement from either of you could send it toppling in either direction, and you weren’t even sure what it depended on. You knew for sure which way you would like to see it go, but it was just as comfortable the way it was.

Silence fell again until the movie ended, which was the only reason you moved. You could probably have fallen asleep like that, but you weren’t ready yet, wanting to bask in whatever you had with Tendo for a while longer.

When you sat up to change the next movie, Tendo rolled over onto his back, watching you fiddle around with it. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck and he shifted uncomfortably. Seemed you felt the same because you turned to look at him, an apology written on your face.

“Sorry, do you mind if I go change into shorts. It’s actually too warm for these now,” you said, setting the DVD case back on the pile. You felt like you were suffocating in your thick winter leggings now, but if he wasn’t okay with that then you would suffer a little longer. At least until you melted.

“Oh thank god you said something. I was about to die in these sweatpants, I swear,” he answered, fanning his face with his hand. You were pretty sure he was just exaggerating that though. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’, and crawled towards the escape flap, wincing at the sound of crunching and crinkling under your knees all of a sudden. “Oops.”

“Oh those had better not have been mine,” he whined, flashing the light of his phone towards the bag. He groaned, seeing his bag of doritos crushed. He could hear you snicker outside the sheet as you walked away and growled, “Watch it. Yours are still in here, _____.”

You opened a drawer as he finally came out as well and began rifling through his bag, pulling out the pair of shorts he’d packed. When you turned around with a pair of soft shorts in your hands, you found him standing awkwardly in the middle of your room again and laughed. “I’ll go change in the bathroom. I gotta use it anyway. I’ll be right back.”

Your footsteps receded down the hall and he raced to get changed before you came back. His sweats landed on his backpack and he shrugged at himself. What did it matter, so long as they weren’t on your floor?

The sound of the sink reached his ears just as he was climbing back into the fort, frowning at his crushed chips even as he shoved a handful into his mouth. He was so gonna make you pay for a new bag, especially because you had laughed. The door creaked open and the flap shifted, and he almost choked on his chips as he realized just how short your shorts were. Were your legs always that long? And smooth? And pretty? Shit.

“How are your chip fragments?” you joked as you made yourself comfortable beside him again. Your hair fanned out behind you and you gathered it up off the base of your neck, twisting it around so that it spread out above you instead. How the fuck was the back of your neck sexy*?

He was so screwed.

“Uh,” he replied. Smooth, Satori. Shaking his head, he tried to gather his thoughts and focus them literally anywhere else. It worked. Sort of. “Pointy. You owe me a new bag.”

You scoffed, smiling at the car full of vacationing teenagers on the laptop. “There’s like four other bags in here. Quit whining.”

But he wasn’t giving it up, throwing his bag into the corner and hopefully out of the way of your carelessness. Settling behind you like he had before, he once again left space between you, afraid now of how his body might react if he didn’t. “No, all of them suck.”

You definitely noticed the gap and wondered if he was just waiting for you to take the initiative, so you did. Before he could blink, you were once again molded to his chest, head tucked under his chin and knees folded around his. He tensed, fingers curling into a fist while he willed himself to chill.

His arm came down around you again, but you could feel how stiff he was. When you made to move forward again, to give him space, his arm locked, even pulling you back again and you grinned. With his arm now lit up properly by the light of the laptop, you realized you could see the tattoos more clearly, and began to trace the stars and fish on his arm.

“Aren’t these the spirit fish from Avatar?” you asked, skimming over the white and black koi. It was a watercolor piece, lacking the heavy lines like the ones on his other arm, and you felt him nod against the top of your head. “They’re gorgeous. Who’s your artist?”

“A friend of mine in Miyagi did those,” he answered, watching you continue to trail up his arms. Goosebumps were raising the fine hairs all over his body, your touches so gentle and intimate, your focus rapt. Higher up near his elbow was what appeared to be two jolly rogers, but they weren’t the normal ones. “Those are from a pirate manga I read in Jump,” he said before you could ask, and you smoothed your hand over them before sliding it back up near his hand.

His heart skipped a beat when your fingers curled into his palm, hesitating before you slipped them between his. He was sure you could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, unaware that you couldn’t because yours was racing fast enough that you were lightheaded. Folding his fingers down over your hand locked them together, but you didn’t try to pull away. If anything, you tried to cuddle up closer to him, dragging your hands so that they were pressed to your chest. It was the most intimate thing he had experienced in recent memory and if his heart didn’t slow down it was going to explode.

The movie wasn’t holding his interest and a new question cropped up in his mind, one he had wondered more than once before tonight and he couldn’t figure out why he thought of it now, but he latched onto it because otherwise he really thought he was going to combust. Besides, it would ease some of his insecurity if he got an answer.

“What took you so long to set this up, anyway? I kind of thought you had changed your mind for a while,” he said, staring at the screen. He was sort of taking it in, an anchor point so he didn’t get lost in his thoughts.

Your chest rumbled against his hand when you hummed, and your answer was so mundane and rational that he almost laughed. “Well a part of it was wanting to get to know you a bit before we did this. Didn’t want to invite a total stranger to spend the night, after all. And then it was just a matter of waiting for my roommates to freakin’ leave.”

“Oh, are your roommates actually gone*?” he asked in surprise. He had thought they were just out for the night and would be home-- probably not soon, given the time, but still. “Like, for the weekend?”

You hummed again in agreement, twirling the ends of your hair absently around your fingers. You were locked onto the movie, absorbed as Leatherface chased one of the characters he didn’t care about through the yard. He fell quiet, thinking you wanted to watch uninterrupted, but then you asked, “That’s alright, right? They would have just wanted to join in otherwise and they can’t stand horror movies either, so they would’ve just talked through it.”

Exactly like he was doing, he realized, and his face grew hot. Hopefully he hadn’t already annoyed you. He nodded, responding in a much quieter voice. “It’s fine. Was just surprised, I guess.”

For a while, neither of you said anything and Tendo managed to focus on the movie, feeling you jump and twitch every once in a while at scares you weren’t expecting. Unfortunately, those movements were brushing against areas that he really didn’t need them too and your shorts did nothing to diminish the curve of your ass against him or the slowly growing hard on he was getting. It didn’t help that every time he shifted even a little you would just follow him, as if he wasn’t pinned by your hand holding his.

But shit, if he didn’t move soon he was going to be screwed. The bathroom-- that would get him out of there before he embarrassed the fuck out of himself.

It was too late, though. You flinched and ground your ass back into him and he groaned before he could help it. You froze, he froze, he just really wanted to die.

“I-- Sorry. I’m really sorry,” he said, tugging at his hand to try and escape. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but the best option was probably to leave and transfer to a school in a whole different country. He could already hear your words now, an echo of so many times before, the sting of disappointment a familiar feeling around his heart.

“I’m sorry, Tendo. I just don’t see you that way.”

It was because he was a freak with a weird name and creepy eyes and-- fuck. It was high school all over again, being rejected by someone he genuinely thought liked him only to find out they were using him to get to Ushijima or pretending to as a fucking joke, only this time Ushijima wasn’t around and he had really gotten himself into it by agreeing to any of this.

But you were refusing to let his hand go, holding so tight he thought his fingers might break, saying his name until he came back down from his panicked high.

“Tendo, Tendo, calm down, please,” you were begging. You had rolled onto your back, unable to sit up because you were using both your hands to keep him from jumping up and taking the whole fort down. You could see it on his face when he finally heard you, wide vermillion eyes locking with yours while his heart continued to race.

He remained propped up on his elbow, ready to run at the first opportunity, and you almost felt bad for antagonizing him as much as you had. If you had known your teasing was going to get him this riled up, you would have tried a different tactic-- or not tried it at all. Maybe you had pushed too far too soon, and the skittish look in his pretty eyes worried you that you had ruined it.

“It’s alright, Tendo,” you said, trying to keep your voice quiet and soothing. It felt an awful lot like you were dealing with a wary animal-- like a coyote or a fox. When the insistent tension in his arm faded is when you relaxed your death grip on his fingers.

The sound of the movie was too loud in the unnatural silence between you, and you rolled over to turn it down. When it was only a background buzz, you turned back to him. He was still staring at you without blinking, his eyes devoid of the panic from earlier but now they were eerily blank.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, deadpan. He flinched when you took his hand again, forehead scrunching in confusion. “I don’t understand. There’s no way you-- What are you doing?”

It was your turn to be confused, pursing your lips at him. He sounded so lost-- and wary again-- like a child. For the first time, you wondered what his childhood had actually been like. He talked an awful lot about Ushiwaka and Semi, and the volleyball club in general, but you heard nothing outside of that. It made you suspicious now.

“What am I doing?” you parroted, finally sitting up. Your joined hands fell into your lap and you stared down at them, petting the back of his hand with your free one. “Do you not want me to?”

His words were stuck in his throat, trapped by the lump there, and he swallowed thickly. His mouth felt like cotton, and he shook his head, croaking out, “It isn’t that. I just don’t understand why.”

“Why what?” you asked, gentle amusement in your voice. There was no teasing, no malicious undertones that he could hear, like you were waiting to spring the final part of the joke on him. And he was listening for it. After years of dealing with it, he had learned to recognize it in people’s words and on their faces. The way their lips would curl and their eyes would narrow just before cruelty would spew from their mouths, he knew the tells and you--

Had none.

There was nothing but open curiosity and nervousness-- and hope. A lot of hope swirled in your eyes and he swallowed again. He was just going to disappoint you. If not tonight then tomorrow, if not tomorrow then next week. It was going to happen--

“Why do you like me? How do you like me? I’m-- weird. And you’re--” He gestured frantically up and down at all of you. You weren’t anything he was-- a freak. With freaky eyes and a freaky name and a freaky personality.

“I-- um,” you said, and you couldn’t help but smile. There was clearly a lot of baggage with him, and his questions made that obvious. It was likely too much to unpack tonight, especially when you were still only just getting to know each other. Reassurance was what he needed, and that was something you could offer on the spot. “You’re funny...and sweet and...very good looking. Your eyes are so pretty. Um, there’s also the fact that you’re the only person who would watch these movies with me, which earns you a lot of points, in my opinion,” you said, tapping your lips as you stared up at the ceiling.

Your face was on fire as you listed things off the top of your head, your throat tight with anxiety as you wondered what he would say in response. They were all surface level things for now, but you knew underneath the armor that there was a lot more to Tendo, and you hoped you had a chance to discover it.

He groaned low in his throat, not from disgust but from a deep seated need to believe you meant those things. His forehead met your shoulder, his fingers squeezing yours. He didn’t fight it when you eased back down, following after you without a word, leaving his face hidden in your neck. He was still trying to gather his thoughts and calm his overworked heart. It would be so easy to reject you and be on his way, to return home and beat himself up for letting himself get too close and too comfortable with you when he knew nothing would come of it.

Except something had come of it and he wasn’t sure what to do now. Semi and Ushijima always told him he was too closed off and that someone was going to come around who actually liked him and his ‘weird ass’ and that he was going to lose that chance because of some stupid high school assholes. Was he though? He wanted to believe you, wanted to trust you, and slowly he relaxed, his stress leaving him in a long, tired exhale.

“You mean it?” he whispered against your neck, and you could feel his lashes tickle your skin when he blinked. His arm was heavy where his hand rested on your stomach, fingers intertwined with yours, and you squeezed his hand as tight as you could.

“I do. I like you and really want a chance to get to know you better,” you whispered back, and it suddenly felt like no one existed but the two of you, protected from everything in the world outside by a few sheets and each other's warmth. There would be things to discuss and hiccups to overcome, but you could worry about those tomorrow. In that moment, all you wanted was to prove to Tendo you wanted him.

Maybe it was your words, whispered softly into the dark, or your hand gripping his for dear life, or the way you let him cling to you like a lifeline, or maybe it was a combination, but when he pulled back from his hiding place and found you staring at him, he slotted his lips against yours without thinking. Your lips parted almost immediately, free hand sliding out from between your bodies to tangle in the close cropped hair at the nape of his neck and you used it to pull yourself closer.

When your tongue poked out to glide across the seam of his lips, he let you in on a breath, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. His eyes were squeezed shut tight as your tongue met his, praying that what was happening wasn’t a dream, and he wasn’t expecting it when you gasped and pulled away all of a sudden.

His eyes popped open and he stared down at you with panic. “What? Did I do something wrong?”

“I-- forgot you have a tongue ring,” you said, and the laughed. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

He blinked like an owl, eyes wide as he processed your words. It wasn’t something that he had ever expected to hear in his life, let alone from the girl he was half-making out with in a freakin’ pillow fort. He suddenly wondered if his life had turned into a Shounen Jump manga.

“Well, so are you,” he said, and leaned in for another kiss.

It was kind of hot to see him confident and you felt heat pool in your stomach, starting to bleed further down as his tongue slipped into your mouth again. He tasted like the root beer he had been drinking all night, and you couldn’t resist toying with the piercing, swirling your tongue around it and listening to him moan against your mouth.

Your shirt had ridden up your stomach as you moved around, trying to get closer to him, and neither of you realized it until Tendo’s hand smoothed over your skin. He froze mid-kiss, waiting for your reaction, and was unsurprised when your hand grabbed his.

What he didn’t expect was for you to guide it upwards, letting go when you hit your ribs to cup his cheek. Pulling back just enough that he could speak against your lips, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Frankly, Tendo,” you said, and kissed him again before you continued, “I haven’t wanted anyone this bad in forever. Even if we wake up tomorrow and change our minds, I am fucking sure right now.”

He groaned, letting his hand hike your shirt up a little higher until his hand cupped under your breast. He wasn’t sure when you had taken your bra off, or maybe you hadn’t been wearing one the whole time, but there was nothing impeding his skin from caressing yours. Your breast was so soft in his hand, topped by a pretty pink nipple that he couldn’t resist pinching. You mewled underneath him, pulling your shirt up to uncover your other breast and he moved to that one, doing the same and feeling your nipple harden at his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he rasped, gazing down the length of your body. Your thighs were clenched, and his hand migrated lower, fingertips skimming over your skin.

The heat that was pooling earlier erupted when they met the waistband of your shorts, but he paused, looking unsure again.

“Tendo, I’ll show you how much I want this,” you whispered and grabbed his hand. He was still hesitant, looking at your face as you slid his hand into your panties, and his eyes widened.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned, his fingers gliding over your soaked lips, spreading your slick all over them. His fingers quickly found your clit, circling it and you squeezed his hand between your thighs, hips jerking. “All because of me? I’m flattered.”

Teasing at your soaked opening, he waited for you to balk but you only twitched, panting against his lips before he sunk one finger in, your walls parting easily. You moaned and he swallowed it in a kiss, his tongue filling your mouth again. It wasn’t long before he was fitting a second finger, crooking them up and grazing your sweet spot, his thumb taking over massaging your clit as he pumped them inside you. Your arousal was already high enough that you could feel your orgasm coming on, and you pulled away to announce it.

“T-Tendo, gonna--” You gasped when he forced them in deeper, a mischievous smirk on his face as he prodded your cervix. “How-- fuck, your fingers are so long,” you whined, toes curling.

“Think you can take one more?” he asked, already fitting the tip of a third finger in. But it was only when you nodded, tears pricking the corners of your eyes that he slipped it in. Your teeth dug into your lip before they parted in a soundless cry.

The coil snapped on the first thrust and he groaned, drinking in your face as he tipped you over the edge. No one had ever cum so prettily for him before and he wanted to see it again.

But only if you wanted it. His cock throbbed painfully in his shorts when he pulled his fingers from your twitching hole, feeling you shudder against him. Examining his glistening fingers in the screen light, he slid one experimentally into his mouth and moaned. “You taste so good, princess.”

You gasped at the pet name, a warmth unrelated to the one between your legs blooming in your chest. He said it was such reverence that you flushed, hoping he’d say it again at some point. Never had anyone called you that before, at least in that context.

When he laid back down beside you, his erection brushed against your leg and he stifled a groan. He was wearing boxers but the friction against his cock was still a pleasurable sensation. Not as much as your hand might be--

Speaking of hands, he nearly jumped out of his skin when you cupped him, squeezing and kneading up the length of him confined in his clothes. A shaky breath ripped out of him, the result of him barely containing a moan, and his long fingers wrapped around your wrist to stop you.

“That’s alright, _____. You don’t have to--” But you weren’t listening and the pressure felt too good. His head fell back, eyes fluttering closed, content to let you literally massage his dick until you started tugging at his shorts. He stopped you more insistently then, pulling your hand away. “Wait a second. Let me get ‘em off since you’re so eager, princess.”

He pulled his shirt over his head first, because it was getting way too hot in there anyway, and then kicked his shorts and boxers off into the dark corner. His cock bobbed against his stomach as he rolled onto his side again, leaking precum already.

Your hand was soft against his stomach, roaming over the hard planes of his abs and down further, until it wrapped lightly around his head.

And froze.

“What the-- Tendo, what are those?” you asked in a high pitched, startled tone. Before he could answer, you let go and rolled onto your back, exposing him to the light and you thought for sure you had died and gone to heaven.

It wasn’t just his arms that were covered in ink. His shoulders, chest, and sides were all covered in it as well, swirls and splashes of color interrupted by splotches of black or white or skin. You could hardly make out what the images were in the flickering, inconsistent light, but you recognized flowers and circles, and on his pec you were pretty sure there was a scene of a lake bathed in moonlight. And as your eyes followed the path of colors down, you landed on the thing that had startled you in the first place.

“Those are--” you breathed, taking his cock into your hand again. There was a ball at the tip, covered in precum, and you knew if you traced down, you would find another just below the crown. Further down on his shaft were five horizontal barbells in a row, and you recognized it as a Jacob’s Ladder. “Fuck me.”

“Gladly,” Tendo quipped and pounced. He settled between your legs and tugged your shorts down over your hips, and you had to hold your legs up to let him pull them the rest of the way off. He was too tall to sit straight up without brushing his head against the ceiling, but he braced back on his arms when you grabbed his shaft again. He groaned when you fondled the ball below his crown, shuddering at the intense pleasure. It was one of the major reasons he’d gotten it- to enhance the sensations. But the feel of your fingers gliding over his tip, gathering the precum and nudging the ball was something else entirely. “Holy shit, that feels amazing.”

His voice sent shivers through you, deep and raspy and way too needy. But you were unsure of what would hurt him, so you kept your touches light, feeling his thighs tense under yours, his fingers squeezing your calves as he let you explore. Before long though, he was pulling your hand away, pinning it down at your side. “Can’t keep that up, princess. I need more, if you’re alright with it,” he said, letting his cock settle against your cunt.

The piercings were warm and pronounced against your folds, and you shuddered when the ball under his head grazed your clit. The thought of them inside you, rubbing all along your walls as he fucked you was too much and you could feel yourself growing wetter, your pussy drooling for it.

“Yes, Tendo, please. I want it, I want to feel them inside me,” you begged, rocking your hips. The stimulation was mind blowing and your walls clenched, empty and needy for him to fill you up. And he would, his cock was huge-- he still had room for more piercings below the ones he had. You had no doubt you would be stretching to take him and you keened in the back of your throat.

“I want you to call me Satori, princess. And I need you to let me know if it’s uncomfortable,” he said, pressing the tip of his cock into your sopping hole. “Sometimes they make it hurt, but you’re so fucking wet I don’t think it will. You really like these, huh?”

You were really just answering his question as you said yes, but a stream of them fell out of your mouth as he pushed the rest of his cock inside you, encouraging him to continue. The stretch was so good, your walls splitting easily for him, and you could feel every ball just like you had imagined grazing against your walls. The ball at his slit rested snugly against your cervix, and you didn’t even realize you were screaming as you came, hips jerking in his hands as he let you ride it out.

He was staring at you with what could only be awe, his mouth slack and eyes wide with surprise. “Holy fuck, princess, did you just cum?”

Your breaths were coming in pants as your mind spun, trying to come down from the unexpected high. It came on so suddenly you had no time to prepare, and tears slid down your cheeks. “F-Feels so good,” you whispered, fingers digging into the blanket beneath you. “Satori, oh my god.”

“Are you alright? We can stop--” he said, but you shook your head frantically, locking your ankles around his back, and he laughed under his breath. You sure were something else. He knew for a fact no one had ever come just from him sliding into them and a swell of pride filled his chest. “No? Alright, whatever you want, princess. Can I move?”

This time you nodded and he was slow as he pulled back, making sure you were okay. You were so tight around him from your orgasm, your walls fluttering with overstimulation, but your back arched when he stuffed himself back in, a breathy moan slipping out of you. Hiking your legs higher up on his hips, he bent over you, gathering your hands and pinning them above your head, lacing his fingers with yours. His lips met yours as he thrust into you slowly, grinding deep and stifling a moan. Once again you were playing with his tongue ring, flicking it as you suckled on his tongue. The fort-- and probably the room-- was filled with the wet slap of his hips on yours every time he drove his cock into you, drowning out the low buzz of the forgotten movie still playing. He was being careful, waiting for you to stop being so sensitive, and he knew you were ready when you arched into his chest and pulled away.

“So good, Satori,” you murmured against his lips, hips rising to meet his. Your eyes were glazed and fucked out, tears still flowing and you could already feel the start of another orgasm, but he was moving too slow. The drag and pull of his piercings had almost all of your attention, the ball at his tip constantly tapping your cervix, making your toes curl with every thrust. “You’re so big, and those-- fuck-- piercings feel so good inside me. I can feel them all everywhere.”

He snickered darkly at that and kissed your cheek. “You wanna feel even better, kitten?” he whispered into your ear, nipping the shell. He could feel you nod against his cheek, nails digging into his hands where he kept them pinned above your head, and then he was letting them go and pulling out of you. You whined, staring up at him in dismay, but he already had your thighs in his hands, prodding you to roll over. “Trust me, pretty girl. On your stomach, just like that.”

It was a bit difficult to get comfortable, but he grabbed a pillow and jammed it beneath your hips before settling with his legs outside of yours. And when you shook your ass, begging him to hurry up, he couldn’t deny you, not when he wanted to be back inside your tight heat so badly.

“Holyshitholyshitholyshit,” you whined, high-pitched and breathless as he finally filled you again. His thighs trembled as he forced himself not to just stuff himself into you, you were so tight. And the way you were crying and shuddering beneath him wasn’t helping, especially when you gasped his given name like a prayer. “*Satori, oh my god.”

If you thought those piercings felt good before, you were in heaven now. Everyone of them dragged slowly over the front wall of your cunt, grinding into your sweet spot and you had to bite the pillow to keep from outright screaming. And he was so, so, so big inside you, but with your legs trapped between his there was nothing you could do but take him. Against your will, your legs kicked, hitting him in the back as you wailed into the pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks in an endless flood.

He snarled into your ear as he planted his elbows beside your head, plastering himself to your back. “You are so fucking tight, princess. How do those piercings feel now?”

“So good so good so good,” you babbled, circling your hips back on his dick to get any friction you could. The orgasm that had been building came back ten fold just from him hilting inside of you and you knew that if he fucked you like this you would be cumming in seconds. “‘Tori, please move, please please please.”

Your needy begging made his cock twitch and you whimpered as he slowly pulled out of you and pushed back in, intentionally slow to let you feel everything. The pleasure was ebbing and flowing, building and falling because he wasn’t moving fast enough, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to go faster, not when you could feel him so clearly. Every time he bottomed out, he made sure to grind down into you, nudging your cervix with the tip of his cock so he could feel you clench suddenly around him. It never failed to make him moan, your slick walls gripping him so tightly as he dragged himself back out. He wanted to make your pussy his new home and barring that he was going to fuck the shape of his cock into you.

“Tell me what you need to make you cum, princess,” he whispered into your ear. He knew what he needed, but he was still learning what would make you feel good.

Releasing the pillow from your teeth, the first thing you did was moan out his name again as he buried himself inside you again. You were so close to cumming, your clit throbbing with need and if he even brushed it you were going to be gushing all over him. You gasped as he thrust a little harder than before.

“If you don’t answer me I’ll just keep going like this, kitten. I can go for hours, if you want,” he whispered, warm against your ear. That made you twitch underneath him, and he chuckled. “You like the sound of that? We’ll try it another time. Right now, I need you to tell me where you want me to cum and how I can make you cum, okay?”

His words were dark and sweet and coaxing, and you were sure you had never whined so much in your whole life. “Touch me, please, Satori. I wanna cum all over your cock and pretty piercings while you cum in me, oh fuck.”

Bracing himself on his elbow, he forced his hand beneath your stomach, aided by you lifting your hips, and you whimpered when he finally, finally brushed your clit. It was all it took and you had to bite the pillow again as you creamed all over his cock, whiting out and screaming into it as you shuddered and jerked. He eased you through it, leaving his cock buried inside you while he fondled your clit, listening to you whimper and moan. It was a good thing you had hidden your face because you would surely have woken the whole complex up otherwise.

He groaned into your ear as you massaged his cock, so tight that you launched him into his own orgasm, cumming inside you as you had asked. He remained still inside of you even after you had relaxed, leaving small kisses all over your hair before he leaned down to rest his head on the pillow. He had fucked you so slowly that he hadn’t broken a sweat, and yet he was still out of breath and panting. His head swam for several more minutes, until you shifted beneath him. But you didn’t move like you wanted him to get off.

Instead, you turned to look at him, a lazy, blissed out grin on your face and said, “Holy shit, that was so amazing. I’ve never cum so many times.”

“So were you. I’ve never made someone cum so many times,” he admitted, and replayed the way you came just because he had filled you. That was something he was unlikely to ever forget. He brushed some hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you. It was slow and gentle, belying how tired the two of you now were, and he could see you were ready to fall asleep. “Gonna pull out of you now, princess. Need you to stay nice and relaxed, okay?”

You nodded, your eyes closing and winced as he slid from your ruined hole. A stream of cum followed after and he took a moment to appreciate it, allowing a smirk to steal across his face. There was no doubt you were his now, at least for a little while, and he committed it all to memory before gently gripping your shoulders. “We should really get cleaned up, then we can go to sleep.”

You grumbled cutely but let him help you up, the both of you stumbling blindly to the bathroom. Sleepiness was a thick fog, and you got cleaned up as quickly as possible before returning to the room. The two of you stood in the doorway, looking at the mess of nonsense covering the bed, and then you looked at Tendou.

“Let’s just sleep in there,” you suggested, taking him by the hand. He let you lead him over, watching the way your ass swayed as you crawled into the fort for hopefully the final time that night. In the few minutes it had taken him to get in after you, you had already pulled a blanket over your legs and were setting up the next movie to play. Not that you would be watching it, but he understood it was the principle of the thing. This was a movie marathon and it just wouldn’t do to fall asleep without being in the middle of one.

Once he’d gotten comfortable behind you, you rolled over and splayed out across his chest, startling him. He had expected to curl himself around your back while you went to sleep, but now you were tracing what lines you could see on his chest in the thin light. His hand rested on your waist, the other tucked behind his head, and he closed his eyes, comfortable with your warmth and weight in his arms.

“Satori,” you murmured, your hand falling flat right over the picture of the lake. “I really do like you.”

He laughed at that, and you could feel it rumble in your ear, deep in his chest. He was clearly as tired as you were, but you needed to say it. There was something in your half asleep brain that would not stop telling you to say it, and you were in no position to fight it.

“I figured as much, princess. Three orgasms are hard to fake, especially around a dick as big as mine,” he answered, and you blanched for a moment before erupting into laughter. He watched you through narrow eyes, fondness bubbling in his chest, until you settled back down against him. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that?”

“So’re you,” you murmured. The nagging had stopped now that you had said what you needed too, and you were falling asleep quickly. “Don’t be gone when I wake up tomorrow, okay?”

“It already is tomorrow, and I’ll be here. There’s nowhere else I wanna be anyway,” he answered, letting his eyes close as well. With your comfortable weight on his chest and your even breathing mixing with the buzzing of the movie in the background in his ears, he drifted to sleep in no time, for once not worrying about what tomorrow would bring.

⇥ masterlist

⇥ taglist: @visaintes, @kunimwuah

#tendo x reader #tendou x reader #tendo satori x reader #satori tendo x reader #tendou satori x reader #satori tendou x reader #haikyuu x reader #.monster

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babygirl-diaz · 3 years ago

Text

Samtember 23: Happy Birthday

2193 Words | Rated G | For @samwilsonfest

Sam felt like he was missing something when he woke up this morning. But he shrugged it off, thinking that if it was important, it would come to him eventually. So he went on his usual run, came back home to shower, make himself coffee before heading out to the base to train Joaquin. All the while, he kept getting the sense that he was forgetting something important.

As he flew up in the air with Joaquin behind him, he heard the younger man's voice in his ear...

"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Sam. Happy birthday to you," he sang. "Sam, get to the ground, I want to show you something."

"Show me what?" Sam asked.

"Can't tell you, man. It's a surprise."

Sam rolled his eyes behind his goggles and dove towards the ground. When he got to his feet, he looked around and found a couple of guys from the air force standing around, looking up at the sky. Curious, Sam looked up too, and his eyes widened. Joaquin had written "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAM," in the sky.

"Happy birthday, Sam."

"Happy birthday, Cap."

The air force guys wished him.

When Joaquin got back to the ground, he gave Sam a broad smile and pulled him into a hug, much to Sam's surprise. "Happy birthday, Cap!"

"Thanks, man," Sam awkwardly pat him on the back.

"Wanna get lunch? My treat," said Joaquin.

Sam contemplated the offer. He didn't have to do anything for the rest of the day and he was far from home, so it would be nice not to spend his birthday alone.

"Okay."

They ended up at a bar, although it was only 1 PM. After a cheeseburger, a couple of beers, and a great conversation with Joaquin, Sam was a happy camper. Once they finished lunch, Joaquin headed to the bathroom, giving Sam time to finally look at his phone.

"Shit," he hissed when he realized he had 20 missed calls from Sarah as well as 5 messages asking him to call her back.

Figuring that Sarah must want to wish him on his birthday, he called her back.

"Sam! Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you all morning!"

"Hello to you too, sis," Sam chuckled. "Sorry, I was a little busy--"

"Sam, I need you to come home."

Sam sat up straight, the buzz of the beer immediately wearing off when he heard the worry in his sister's voice. "What's wrong?"

"Can't tell you that over the phone. Could you please just come back today?"

"I- I can't drive. I've been drinking."

"It's only 2 PM there! Can't you catch a flight? I'll pick you up from New Orleans."

"Okay," Sam replied. "Yeah, okay, I'll be there. Whatever this is, can't it wait till tomorrow?"

"No, it's really urgent, Sam. I'm kinda in a whole lotta trouble."

"Shit, Sarah. What did you do?" Sam rubbed his forehead.

"Just get here!" Sarah said before hanging up.

"Everything okay?"

Sam looked up to find Joaquin giving him a concerned look.

"It's my sister. She's in some kinda trouble. She needs me home right away."

"Damn," said Joaquin. "What you gonna do now?"

"Head home." Sam sighed as he looked up flights on Google.

"You driving?" Joaquin asked.

"Been drinking, Joaquin. Can't drive," Sam replied, although he felt much sober now.

"I could drive you! A road trip will be nice!"

"You've been drinking too, buddy," Sam reminded him. Joaquin looked visibly disappointed, but he nodded. Sam booked the flight and got up from his seat. "Thanks for lunch, man. This was great. Let's catch up when I get back."

With that, he gave Joaquin a quick hug before heading back to his apartment to pack.

***

On the plane, Sam tried to relax but he couldn’t.

“You alright there?” Sam’s neighbor asked.

Sam tried not to groan. So the person beside him was a talker. “Yeah, I’m good,” Sam replied and finally looked over at the person. He had to do a double-take because the guy looked so much like Steve. But that wasn’t all. Sam had actually seen him somewhere before.

“Wait… Don’t I know you?” Both the guy and Sam asked at the same time. The guy laughed and shook his head.

“I’m Toby,” he introduced himself.

“You’re the guy that plays Steve Rogers on the Broadway show…” Sam trailed off. Sam felt a pang in his heart as he continued to watch the guy.

“Yeah and you’re the real Captain America,” the guy -Toby- said, giving him a smile. “Sorry, this must be really weird,” he continued.

“You have no idea.” Sam laughed humorlessly and shook his head.

“Can I ask you something?” Toby asked.

“No, he was a terrible singer,” Sam replied.

Toby looked confused for a second before he burst out laughing. “You a mind reader too, huh? Is that your superpower?”

“I wish,” Sam scoffed. “No, but really, what was your question?”

“Is he on the moon?” A smirk spread across Toby’s lips.

“Yeah, he’s totally on the moon. Just chilling up there. I actually fly up there every uh-- Monday and Thursday and we hang out.” Sam rolled his eyes.

That made Toby laugh even more. “Man, you’re hilarious,” as his laughter died down, a serious look spread across his face, “Can I make this even weirder?” He asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t reply.

“Happy birthday,” said Toby.

“How did you--”

“I follow you. Quite extensively,” Toby replied, visibly cringing. “I am kind of a huge fanboy.”

Sam blinked at him and tried to find the right words. He was flattered… but also weirded out.

“And now you look like you’re looking for an escape route.” Toby awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “And that wasn’t even the weird part.”

“There’s more?” Sam asked, surprised.

“Yeah, I was going to ask if you would like to go out with me sometime?”

“Oh…” Sam mumbled. “Look, I’m flattered but…”

“But it’s weird. Dating your potentially dead best friend’s look alike?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Sam laughed awkwardly. “I wish the circumstances were different cause you’re a very good-looking guy. Besides, I live in D.C. and you live in New York… it wouldn’t work.” Speaking of New York, Sam looked down at his phone and realized he had no calls or messages from Bucky. He felt another pang in his heart. Did Bucky forget it was Sam’s birthday? Sam could forgive Sarah for forgetting since she was stressed out, but Bucky had no excuse.

“Hello?” Toby brought Sam out of his thoughts and Sam looked over at him to find the guy giving him a curious look. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. And sorry again.”

“Oh, don’t sweat it. Can I have your phone?” Toby asked.

Sam looked at him suspiciously, but then he unlocked his phone and gave it to the actor.

“That’s my number. If you ever wanna watch the show, just hit me up and I’ll leave you the tickets. Or if you ever just wanna hang out, lemme know.” The guy gave him a charming smile that resembled Steve’s before handing over his phone.

They landed soon and Toby wished Sam a happy birthday once again before they parted ways.

Sam’s phone rang as he made his way to the exit and he quickly took it out, only to find it was Sharon. He tried not to sound disappointed as he answered the phone, “Hey Sharon.”

“Happy birthday, Sam,” she said, making Sam smile.

“Thanks,” Sam replied.

“Where are you? I was hoping to take you out to dinner tonight. Figured you wouldn’t want to be on your own on your birthday.”

“I’m in Louisiana,” Sam replied. “Just landed here.”

“Oh wow. That wasn’t in your plan until yesterday.”

“Plans changed,” Sam replied, shrugging, although she couldn’t see him.

“Well, I owe you dinner then,” said Sharon. “Catch up with me when you get back?”

“Will do.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up by the time Sam got to the exit. Sam then called up Sarah. “Where are you?” He asked.

“I’m almost there,” Sarah replied.

Sarah was there 5 minutes later and when Sam opened the passenger door to get in, he heard part of the conversation she was having on the phone. “I’m on my way,” she said to someone. “I swear Bu-- Bonnie, if you mess this up--”

Sam frowned at that. He was so sure Sarah was about to say Bucky.

“What, you too old to give your sister a hug now?” Sarah asked after she hung up.

Sam rolled his eyes at her dramatics and reached over to hug her. “How you doing?” He asked.

“I could be better,” Sarah replied.

Sam pulled apart and gave her a sympathetic look. “You wanna tell me what’s going on now?” He asked as she pulled out of the loading zone.

“When we get home,” Sarah replied. “Can we talk about something else for now?”

“Okay,” Sam sighed and let it go. For now.

They talked about Sam’s Cap job. Sarah seemed proud of him. She even said so multiple times, which made Sam smile throughout their ride to Delacroix.

“So who’s Bonnie and why were you threatening her?” Sam asked as they pulled up in the driveway.

“Oh, she’s just one of the moms in PTA. We have a fundraiser coming up but it’s hard to leave her in charge of things.” Sarah replied as she typed away on her phone.

“Then why do you?” Sam asked as he got out of the car and grabbed his backpack.

“I ask myself the same question,” Sarah mumbled under her breath, but Sam still heard it.

The house was eerily quiet when Sam and Sarah got inside. “Where are the boys?” Sam asked. But then he heard noises in the backyard and immediately became alert. “Is there someone back there?” Sam asked.

“Why don’t you go check it out?” Sarah suggested.

Her nonchalance took Sam aback but he said nothing as he made his way towards the backdoor.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SAM!”

“Shit!” Sam almost fell back when a group of about 30 people greeted him in the backyard. “What is happening?” Sam asked, dumbfounded.

“Your birthday, that’s what, Uncle Sam!” AJ laughed as he and Cass came over and hugged him. “Happy birthday, Uncle Sam,” both kids wished him at the same time.

Sam felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see Sarah smiling broadly at him. “Happy birthday, Sam,” she wished him but couldn’t give him a hug as she was holding his birthday cake. So Sam gave her a side hug instead.

“Is Bucky here too?” He asked when he noticed the Oreo cake Sarah was holding.

“Yeah, he’s in the back there, trying but failing to grill,” she laughed. “Go get him while I get the cake set up.”

Sam nodded and made his way through the crowd, greeting and talking to pretty much everyone.

“So this is why I didn’t get any calls or messages from you,” Sam said when he finally got to Bucky.

Bucky turned around and smirked at him. “Had I known you were waiting for my call, Wilson--”

“I wasn’t!” Sam answered a little quicker than necessary.

“Right…” Bucky trailed off. “Well, get over here so I can wish you!”

“Alright, bossy,” Sam shook his head before walking over to Bucky and giving him a tight hug.

“Happy birthday, Sam,” Bucky said, hugging him back.

They pulled apart but stayed close together, Sam’s eyes briefly trailing down to Bucky’s lips.

“You gonna kiss me?” Bucky asked.

Sam immediately looked up at him. “What? No!”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it if you did,” Bucky replied.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Sam laughed and moved away from him. “So you and Sarah plan this?”

“The boys came up with the idea. Sarah called me up last week and asked if I was in. Of course, I was.”

“You came all the way from New York, just to prepare for my surprise birthday party?” Sam asked, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Don’t look too happy. I did it for Sarah and the boys.”

“Right…” Sam trailed off, rolling his eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Nothing does. You’re kinda in my thoughts all the time.”

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times but no words came out.

“I’m as the kids say ‘a simp for you’” Bucky snickered at his own terrible joke.

Sam put his hand behind Bucky’s head and pulled him in to kiss him. Bucky seemed surprised at first but then he kissed him back.

When they pulled apart, Sam smiled at Bucky. “Now come on. Time for my terrible Oreo cake.”

“Hey! It’s the best cake out there!” Bucky protested. “And this time I made it myself.” He added, much to Sam’s surprise.

“I didn’t have a death wish on my birthday,” Sam joked.

“Haha hilarious,” Bucky said with a roll of his eyes.

“I’m a grade-A comedian!” Sam winked at him.

#Samtember 2021 #Samtember #Submission #Sam Wilson #Captain America #Joaquin Torres #Sarah Wilson #Bucky Barnes #sambucky

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arwamachine · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there, Arwa! Hope you’re having a wonderful day 🌻

I’d like to ask you questions 3 & 4 for Swallow the Night. I’m pretty new to the Johnlock fandom, but this story had such an impact on me, it made me feel so much for the characters; easily one of my favorites! It was such an emotional journey that took me everywhere from me crying copiously (especially when I got to the TAB chapter) to me jumping around (quite literally) when I got to the end.

Also, question 20 because I’m already a big fan of so many authors and I never know how to phrase my comments or how to show my support and love for your work. (Boy, are y’all so talented and I’m perfectly happy leaving the boys in your hands because yo understand the characters better that Moftiss can, imo.) So, is it okay to contact the author directly or is it better to just leave feedback on ao3?

Cheers! 🌸

Oh goodness thank you so much!! I am so thrilled that you enjoyed that fic so much!!

3. Do you have a favorite scene you’ve written from [Fanfic Name] story/chapter?

AAAAAH this is so haaaaard! This fic was so fun to write, and I feel like every scene is my favorite! 😭 I'll try to narrow it down to two.. I really like ch. 6 (the TAB hallucination chapter); writing more Victorian-ish speech was a fun challenge, and I feel like that chapter effectively conveys emotion. I also really like ch 13 (John's life flashing before his eyes, kinda); this was a risk, to do a weird flashback-filled chapter RIGHT in the middle of the climax of the fic, and I wasn't sure how folks would react. Luckily, folks were willing to go along with me!

Honorable mention to ch 9, where Sherlock helps John remember ;)

4. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [Fanfic Name]?

Funnily enough (because you asked about comments as well), there was one flashback in chapter 13 that I ended up re-writing because of reactions to the fic as it was posting! In the flashback, John and Mary are laying in bed being awkwardly not in love, and John asks Mary if she was planning to shoot Sherlock at Leinster Gardens. I cut it because Mary came off as very cold and bitchy, and based on the comments I was getting, readers did not need ANY more convincing that John ought to leave her. In its place, I wrote John and Mary driving home from the tarmac and tried my best to soften her up, show that she is a woman who understands that her marriage is failing and there is little she can do to save it.

20. What feedback makes you the happiest to hear?

I have no problem answering this again, especially in the context of your question! I 100% mean it when any comment/feedback makes me happy, and I thiiiiink I speak for a lot of writers as well when I say that we are just as happy to receive an all-caps text-wall of gibberish as we are a lengthy comment (as we are a simple "loved it!"). I love it all: random emojis, squees, extra kudos, favorite quotes/paragraphs, emotional reactions, things the fic/chapter made folks think about, etc. I even love comments that simply consist of a disembodied scream (honestly, I LOVE screams. I love them. They feed me.).

(omg, and I love comments that mention tiny details too. For instance, in Storm, when Sherlock bought John rhubarb jam because he knew John preferred and a few folks mentioned that in the comments...that made me SO HAPPY! In long chapters where a lot of things happen, it's hard to know if the little things hit.)

I think I just love comments... And I know I'm not alone in that! ;)

For the best way to leave feedback, this probably varies from author to author. I don't mind folks reaching out to me on Tumblr (obviously!), but some authors aren't as active on here. Comments on AO3 are always a good bet!

Thank you thank you thank you so much for the ask!!

#arwa answers asks #arwa cannot talk enough about how much she loves comments #she loves them #yum yum yum #benedict cumberbatch

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 5 years ago

Text

Social Media AU - Richie Tozier comes out during a show

I decided that this AU works better with a written headcanon to go with it, and so I’ve included it underneath the cut. It’s a little rough because it’s been a LONG time since I sat down and properly wrote something, but I tried!

Enjoy!

Holy shit.

He couldn’t believe he’d done that.

Jesus fucking Christ.

His manager was talking shit in his ear, prowling after him like fuck knows what, talking about “there’ll be backlash for this” and “not part of the plan”, and even “you’ve ruined your whole fucking career”. The usual stuff, really. Richie couldn’t bring himself to give a shit though, not right now. His heart was pounding ridiculously loud in his chest, blood rushing through him and making him feel dizzy – adrenaline mostly, but also some anxiety too.

Somehow he found himself in his backstage dressing room, manager still nagging him and furiously demanding answers. Pull it together, Tozier, pull it together.

“What in God’s name were you thinking?!” Brad hissed, slamming his hand down on the dressing table; the bottle of water next to the mirror topped slightly from the force of it. “This is a PR nightmare!”

“I don’t give a shit,” Richie said simply, giving a shrug. “What can I say, man? Gotta be true to myself.”

A vein seemed to throb in his manager’s forehead. “You just announced that you’re gay in front of hundreds of people, Richie, most of whom are within the demographic that are the least accepting of homosexuality! You think you’re the first gay person to be in this position? Because you’re fucking not, okay, there’s a reason PR is a thing! Your image is going to be ruined within just a few short hours of all of this!”

“So you want me to lie about it?” Richie snapped. “I’m done lying, okay? I’m done with the dumb girlfriend jokes, I’m done with the misogynistic shit that I’m having to recite, I’m fucking done! I shouldn’t be ashamed about this, it’s 2017 for fuck sake!”

“Alright, sure, it’s a more accepting time, but your fan base...in case it escaped your notice, you have a certain demographic, and it’s not ‘woke’ gay people. The people who came to your show tonight wanted to see the Richie Tozier they know and love, they wanted those jokes and that humor - not your life story and an impromptu coming out!”

“Well, tough shit to them - like I said, if I’m doing these shows, I’ll do it with my own jokes, not hiding who I am anymore.”

“Richie, it’s not that simple-”

There was a knock on the still-open door; a stagehand gawked at them, a little nervously, before clearing her throat. “Um… I’m sorry to interrupt, I… Well… These guests have VIP passes, and they wanted to see Rich- I mean, Mr Tozier right away.”

Behind her, Richie could see the rest of the Losers Club waiting awkwardly, clearly trying not to look at him or his manager. He cleared his throat and gave what he hoped was an at least somewhat polite nod. “Yeah, they’re friends of mine. Thank you. Brad,” He turned to his manager and gave him a meaningful look. “Some privacy please?”

Brad straightened his blazer but nodded too. “Of course. I have...things to try and fix. We’ll discuss this later, Richie.”

He waited until both the stagehand and his manager were out of earshot before gesturing for his friends to come into the dressing room; all of them looked nervous, clearly trying to pretend that they hadn’t overheard the argument, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind - he was just so glad to see them all right now.

“So…” He said, closing the door behind them and trying to look like he was holding it together. “What- What did you think?”

“You were great, Richie,” Bill said sincerely - and that seemed to make the others more comfortable too, judging by how they all started to smile and rush to embrace him.

“You did a wonderful job, Richie,” Beverly told him, giving him a squeeze and beaming at him. “You had us all laughing the entire show.”

Ben was grinning widely. “Far funnier than any of your old material, that’s for sure.”

“You were actually funny,” Stan said, though he was smiling fondly. “Never thought I’d say that, Trashmouth, but it’s true - if only you were that funny when we were kids.”

“Ha, fuck you too, Stan Urine,” Richie joked, but he was unable to stop himself from exhaling in relief. “I’m glad you all enjoyed the show - was kinda worried it wouldn’t get the same laughs as my old stuff.”

“Your old stuff was fake,” Mike brushed off, giving him a kind smile. “We could see it was really you up there, being yourself.”

Richie felt a little dazed by all the attention; he was briefly aware of Bill and Mike both patting him on the back, of Stan and Patty sharing a small laugh as they recounted something he’d said during the show, Audra congratulating him and saying how happy she was to finally meet all of her husband’s friends, Ben grinning widely, Beverly holding his arm and stating that she was so proud-

Eddie.

Fuck.

“Has anyone seen Eddie?” He blurted out, unable to stop himself. Everyone else fell into silence. “Oh shit. Fucking shit-”

“He just went out for some air,” Beverly said quickly, though she looked uncertain. “I think it’s just...a lot for him.”

“I gotta go find him,” Richie muttered, immediately heading for the door. “Fucking fuck...”

Ben’s arm stopped him before he could touch the handle. “Rich, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“No, I need to apologize to him, I need to explain-”

“Richie,” Bill said quietly. “You just said you’ve been in love with him since we were kids, in front of hundreds of people. Everyone will know by tomorrow, even if they weren’t at tonight’s show. It’s a lot for him to take in.”

Something anxious and vile reared up in Richie’s chest, making him feel like it was difficult to breathe. “I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked this up, oh fuck...I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Richie-”

“It’s okay, Richie, don’t panic-”

“Shit, what’s he gonna think?! Fuck, I’ve ruined our whole friendship, what the fuck is wrong with me?!”

“You haven’t fucked anything up, Richie.”

“Rich, please just breathe, okay?”

He was only somewhat aware of Beverly’s hand in his arm, gently pulling him over to the nearby chair and sitting him down. “Richie, honey, have some water and just focus on breathing, okay?”

Knowing he had no choice in the matter, he took a gulp from the water bottle she passed him, focusing on her voice and doing his best to push his fears away. Tonight was supposed to have been the opposite of this - he was supposed to be brave, to stand tall, to not be ashamed of who he was. Instead he was terrified, filled with regret and uncertainty.

A part of him was briefly aware of someone (Bill, he figured) saying they were going to find Eddie before stepping out of the room. A minute or so later, he noticed the others starting to filter out of his dressing room, muttering that they were going to give him some space to breathe and not overcrowd him - they’d wait for him outside. He could only hope that security had managed to get any fans waiting out back to go away - normally he didn’t mind signing autographs or saying hello to people, but after tonight’s show...no. He couldn’t.

You’ve really fucked this up, Tozier.

---

Beverly walked with him as they left, her presence welcome and calming; she didn’t speak, and he was grateful for that - he just knew that she understood, that she was on his side no matter what was to come. Then again, he was sure all the Losers would be there for him no matter what - they were like a family, he sometimes thought, a family of misfits and nobodies that found each other, found a group where they could be themselves.

Fuck, he loved his friends so much.

“You want me to drive?” Beverly asked finally when they reached the car park, looking around; the others were nearby, crowded together and talking amongst themselves. “Or do you have a limo these days, Mr Comedian?”

“Hilarious,” He said dryly. “No, but I have a driver sometimes. I can call him and tell him to head home for the night though.”

They had nearly reached the others before Richie realized that all of his friends were there.

Eddie was there.

His throat closed up. No, no, he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t-

“Eds,” Beverly said softly, giving him a kind smile.

Eddie gave a small nod, hands in his pockets and suddenly looking awkward. “Yeah… Erm… Hi, Richie.”

Everyone was silent. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife as they all debated what to do, none of them clearly sure of what to say in this situation. Richie tried to meet Eddie’s eye, only to find the other man staring at the floor resolutely; anxiety and worry gnawed at Richie’s insides at the sight.

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime of awkwardness, Mike cleared his throat and looked around at everyone. “How about we go grab a drink?” He prompted. “You know, to celebrate.”

“Sounds like a good idea, Mikey,” Bill sighed with relief, quickly glancing at Richie and Eddie.

“We’re all booked in the same hotel, right?” Beverly decided quickly, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “How about we go for a drink at the bar? That way none of us need to worry about driving or trying to find our way home.”

The others murmured in agreement, though it was clear that things were still awkward. As they started to make their way out of the car park, Stan and Bill navigating and leading the way, Richie noticed Beverly’s hand leave his arm; before he could question her, however, he found himself face-to-face with Eddie - immediately his throat felt dry, voice mysteriously gone for once in his life.

“Richie.” Eddie’s expression was hard to read; he didn’t seem angry but he didn’t seem happy or pleased either, just...carefully neutral. “Look, we need to… We need to talk.”

“Yeah,” Richie managed. “I guess so.”

Eddie hesitated for a second or two before turning to call to the others over his shoulder. “We’ll meet you guys there.”

None of the other Losers commented on this; instead, Bill merely nodded and gestured in the direction that they were heading. “Sure. Take your time.”

As soon as their friends were far away enough not to overhear, Eddie looked at Richie pointedly. “Is there somewhere private we can go or…?”

“Err… Dressing rooms might still be open?”

“And we won’t be overheard?”

“No. I have a private dressing room, dude.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at this but gestured back towards the theatre. “Alright, fine. Lead the way, Trashmouth.”

Weirdly enough, the nickname made him feel more comfortable - it was almost like nothing had changed, like he didn’t just admit in front of hundreds of people that he was in love with this man, like he didn’t admit it in front of said man. For a moment, Richie allowed himself to think that everything would be fine; they’d talk it out, maybe be able to laugh it off, and it would be good. Not great, to be honest, but better than this hiding and lying.

---

Thankfully security had allowed him to go back to his dressing room, under the guise that he had “forgotten” something, and they didn’t ask about Eddie accompanying him - awkward questions would have made it much more humiliating for all parties involved, he thought. Richie wasted no time in opening the dressing room door to let Eddie in before closing and locking it for good measure, just to be sure that they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“Here, urgh… You take the chair, I can sit on the table,” He offered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie brushed off, crossing his arms and suddenly avoiding his eye. “I’m kinda too nervous to sit.”

“Oh. Thank fuck, me too.”

He noticed Eddie’s lips quirk upwards, as if he was trying not to let himself smile - that was definitely a good sign. He waited for the other man to speak first, partly to be fair but also because, frankly, he had no idea what to say.

“So… Congrats on coming out?” Eddie finally offered - and then they both burst into laughter. “Fuck, that sounds so dumb.”

“Yeah, but it’s kinda cute,” Richie chuckled before he could stop himself - and then he froze up again. “I mean… I don’t mean…”

Eddie seemed to realize what he meant and his smile faded. “Right. That.”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Richie said quickly. “I should have told you in private or something, not on a fucking stage in a stand-up routine. I mean, I was going to imply that I’m gay as fuck, that was planned, but I wasn’t going to just put it out there like that, it just happened. And shit, I wasn’t even intending on saying all that about you, but I saw you sitting in the front row and… Jesus, Eddie, I just saw you laughing and I-”

“Richie,” Eddie interrupted, and the other man fell silent. “Look, man, this is all… Okay. Alright.” He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before speaking again. “What you said during the show about me…about how you feel...you meant it.”

Richie swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah, I meant it.”

“Since we were kids?” Eddie continued, waiting for the other man to nod. “Okay… Richie, I swear to God, if this is some practical fucking joke or whatever - something for you to get laughs or make fun of me or whatever dumb shit goes through your head - then I will punch you in the face right fucking now.”

“What? No, no this isn’t a fucking joke!” Richie retorted, almost offended by this accusation. “You think I would say all that shit on-stage in front of hundreds of fucking people just for a joke?! Fuck off.”

“Okay, okay, I know, I’m sorry, I just… It’s a lot to take in,” Eddie muttered. When his friend didn’t say anything, he cast a look at him, seeming to study his face, before sighing. “Rich, I’m not about to turn around and start screaming slurs at you just because you had a crush on me.”

“I didn’t-”

“I can see it on your face, dumbass. Richie,” He leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re my friend - one of my best friends, actually. Nothing you say could make me hate you...well, not anymore than I do already.”

Richie gave a small, pained laugh, though the relief was evident on his face. “Right. Yeah. Thanks, Eds.”

For a long moment that seemed to stretch on for a lifetime, neither of them said anything else; Eddie’s hand remained on Richie’s shoulder, the taller man just looking at him gratefully. There was still a nagging feeling within him, something eating up at his insides and wondering if Eddie was just hiding any anger or disgust, maybe he just didn’t want to ruin a good night; they still hadn’t really addressed the whole “hey, I’m in love with my best friend Eddie” thing either, that could be awkward-

“Me too.”

Richie blinked. “What?”

Eddie’s hand fell away, and he merely just shrugged as he looked away from Richie. “Me too. I’m...I’m gay.”

“Oh. Oh. Eddie…”

“During the divorce proceedings with Myra, I...I started to think,” He continued, almost to himself. “Actually, it was before that, before I even left Derry. I would hate myself, you know, for every time I looked at a cute guy too long, every time I thought they were handsome in their best clothes or whatever. I’d push it away because I’d think it was not okay, that I was being disgusting or dirty or…”

Richie was stunned by this, suddenly at a loss for words. “Dirty? Come on, dude, you’re like the cleanest asshole I know - there’s not a microbe of dirt or whatever the fuck on you.”

“Hilarious. Really.” But Eddie wasn’t smiling. “Look, ever since the day we...we defeated IT, I’ve thought about it. I have. I thought about you helping me out before that fucking nightmare of a house collapsed, thought about you dragging my ass to hospital and demanding I get immediate attention, about how brave you were that day. After that I decided that I wanted to be brave too - you made me want to be brave and stand up for myself.” He paused. “That sounds cheesey as fuck, I know, but it’s true. And tonight, when you were telling your own jokes, stuff you’d written and worked hard on, I realized it again - that I want to be brave. I don’t want to be scared to admit it.”

“Really?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. But there’s something else, Rich...the only person I told before now is Bev, and that’s because she guessed, you know? She could tell, but I also knew she’d listen and not judge.” He took a deep breath. “When I was in the hospital, every time I woke up, you were there - you refused to leave me. The others would be there too, usually taking turns, but you didn’t do that - you were always there. And before that, when we were stuck in that fucking thing’s lair, I saw you…” His voice failed for a moment, and he hurriedly looked away. “Fuck, Richie, you were under the deadlights and I...I thought I was going to lose you. I couldn’t bear it, Rich - I just couldn’t. I had to do something, I had to save you even if it meant putting myself in danger.”

“Well…” Richie wasn’t sure what to say - this wasn’t how he imagined this conversation going at all. “It worked. I’m not dead.”

“No, I know. But do you get what I’m trying to say, Richie?” Eddie asked anxiously. “Why I’m telling you all this?”

“I dunno, man,” Richie said dazedly, trying not to get his hopes up - he couldn’t, he couldn’t let himself think one thing and be brought down when it was not true, not if he could help it. “This whole night has been a clusterfuck for me, and I’m not entirely convinced I’m not high and hallucinating right now.”

It wasn’t true - he hadn’t been high in nearly five years, and he’d given up excessive drinking after reuniting with the Losers. He knew Eddie knew that already, but it was the first excuse he found himself latching onto.

“Jesus Christ, Richie.” The smaller man rolled his eyes but remained otherwise serious. “I’m trying to say that I’ve...I’ve liked you since we were kids too. Loved you, actually. God knows why since you’re an idiot who annoys the shit out of me, but damn it, I love you, Richie Tozier.”

“…Fuck.”

“I was never going to tell you,” Eddie admitted, folding his arms and looking rather uncomfortable. “Even though I decided I was going to try to be brave, that I wasn’t going to keep up with a sham of a marriage, I thought that you weren’t…you know. And I thought that even if you were, then I’d be the last one you’d want to be with.” Strangely, he gave a smile. “Fucking dumb, right?”

Richie nodded. “Very fucking dumb. Jesus, Eddie, do you not see the way I’ve been looking at you? Fuck, there’s been days you’ve given me boners in public just because I was thinking about you.”

“Urgh, too much information, asshole,” Eddie huffed – but the affection behind it was obvious, his facial expression softening. “So…where does this leave us, Richie? What happens next?”

“Next?” Richie considered this. “Well, being honest, I’d love to take you out and do this shit properly, but…”

“But?”

He hesitated, giving the other man a surprisingly serious look. “But that’s your choice – if you wanna stay friends, I respect that.”

To his surprise, Eddie huffed before stepping forwards; before Richie could say anything else, he was being kissed firmly on the mouth, hands cupping his face and pulling him close. He wasted no time in closing his eyes and kissing him back, his heart soaring as his entire body came alive.

For the first time all night, the panic and anxiety that had set him on edge flowed away completely: all he felt was exhilaration and relief – and love, love for this man in his arms. Suddenly it didn’t matter about what anyone else thought – whether ‘fans’ would send him hate online, how this could impact his entire career, his manager hounding him with how much he’d regret this – because none of it was important, not as important as this, as finally being able to hold the person he loved, who he’d always loved, and being able to be open with himself as well as those closest to him.

Yeah, Richie thought to himself blissfully, he didn’t regret his decision in the slightest.

#the written part is so bad but lol whatevs i guess #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #social media au #it #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #stan uris #stanley uris #ben hanscom #my writing

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queenof-literature · 4 years ago

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A Sick Wild Child - Chapter 10

Chapter 10 - Cold

Aaaand we're back! Sorry for the long wait, college is wack.

Uhh big angst warning for this chapter. I can't really tell if this is angstier than the rest of the chapters? But the warning is there.

As I said earlier, I am going to be rewriting this fic as I add to it. Nothing major will change, but I kinda cringe a little when I read back on it because I feel like my style has developed more as I've written.

Ao3 Link:

I hope y'all enjoy!

The rustling of the leaves above were the loudest sound Warriors heard outside camp. Between the soft snores of his companions, the distant flowing stream, and the cackling of the fire, perhaps he should have let himself relax, if only a little. Being as rigid as a board would do no one any good if monsters came, yet Warriors could not force himself to relax. Strained eyes jumped between the other Links, the world outside their overhang, and the only other two not resting.

Whatever allowed Wild to be semi-coherent hours ago had faded as night went on, stuttering chest still rising and falling roughly.

Twilight hadn’t left Wild’s side, still holding tightly to the boy’s clammy hand. Warriors let out a sigh, trying to force some tension from his shoulders as he stood, slowly making his way over.

“You need to get some sleep.” Warriors settled next to him, still keeping a sharp ear out for potential monsters. He had made the mistake of letting down his guard, and he wouldn’t do it again.

“I’ll sleep after your watch.” Twilight was lying, and they both knew it.

“You make fun of Time for taking on too much, but you’re the same damn way.” Warriors huffed.

“Pot, meet kettle.” Twilight snarked and Warriors rolled his eyes at yet another dumb country metaphor. “Besides, be careful what you say, Old Man is probably listening.”

“It’d be hard not to with how loud you two are.” A voice said from Time’s bedroll.

“Sorry, Time.” Warriors and Twilight spoke in unison, chuckling lightly when they heard a tired sigh and grumbling.

“Any signs of Wild waking up again?” Warriors nodded towards Wild’s restless form, keeping his voice far lower.

“Nah. I wouldn’t be so worried if he was getting some actual sleep.” As if sensing his name Wild shifted once again, letting out unidentifiable croaks and murmurs. Twilight stroked his thumb across the back of Wild’s pale hand in an attempt to soothe him once more.

“Yeah…” Warriors spoke awkwardly. “The worst will be over soon, then he’ll be able to start healing. Hylia knows Legend and Hyrule are going to shove a rainbow of potions down his gullet when he can handle it.” Warriors joked, feeling success at the small chuckle he received from the other young man.

“I know he’ll be okay, but…” Twilight trailed off, looking down once more at his protege

“Yeah, it’s hard to see him like this.” Warriors nodded.

“Well yeah but I’m worried for what comes after.” Twilight’s eyes still hadn’t met his.

“What do you mean?”

“When he comes to, how much of these nightmares is he going to remember? Some are fake, but his brain is already… addled.” Twilight said for lack of a better word.

“You’re worried about the memories.” Warriors understood now.

“Yeah. He doesn’t remember anything besides a few memories, I’m worried the real ones will mix with the fake ones and just confuse him more.” Warriors hadn’t even thought of that.

“He’ll be okay once he’s aware enough to talk them through, that’s always seemed to help him in the past.” Warriors reassured, clamping a head on his companion’s shoulder. “I know there’s a lot in the air right now, but we need to focus on the now. We’ll deal with the future when we get there.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks War.” Twilight smiled at his companion, finallying meeting his eyes. Both settled in against the wall, taking comfort in the other’s presence.

Cold, scared, confused. Fear struck his heart when he felt the familiar emotions, among others he couldn’t name. His lungs spasmed, and he felt himself cough roughly. Drowning… was he drowning? He didn’t feel wet, water meant drowning… right? Something warm and gentle slid across his hand and he shivered. What was touching him? Was it bad?

No… cold was bad, warm was good, or so he thinks. Yes that seems right. And what was touching him was warm so he could trust it. Yeah, that logic made sense.

Something was wrong though, he shouldn’t be feeling this way. This wasn’t normal. He tried to open his eyes. Wait, when did those get there? He had a body, and bodies had names. Did he have a name? Whatever was blocking his eyes refused to budge, or perhaps it wasn’t even trying. He felt his ears flicker when a noise drew close to him, and the warmth caressing his hand paused. No, don’t stop! He cried out, or he thought he did.

The warmth moved from his hand, allowing the cold to flood back, and he tried to cry out, he wanted to be warm he didn’t want to be cold. He relaxed once more when the warmth moved under his eye, under his eye… his cheek. The hand pushed into the skin of his cheek softly, and he tried to focus on what he heard above him, but he couldn’t push down his panic. What was his name? Everyone had a name, what was his name?

The warmth, which he now recognized as a hand, pushed his cheek with more intent, the noises growing louder. But he couldn’t focus on that, he could only focus on the empty space where his name, his very identity should be. What was his name? Everything would be okay if he could just remember his damn name-

“Wild?” A voice echoed above him, snapping him back from his spiral. Wild… that didn’t sound quite right, but it certainly didn’t sound wrong, and he clinged to it. Wild, Wild, Wild. That was him!

“Wild?” Another voice asked, and Wild was sure it was a different one. The hand patted his cheek, and Wild felt his nose scrunch. He didn’t like that.

“Wild? Are you awake? Can you open your eyes?” Wild’s ears perked at the tone, an odd mix of hope and concern. Now out of his spiral, Wild tried once more to open his eyes. Shutting them tightly once more when light assaulted his vision. He felt his head being turned, vertigo crashing into him, only relaxing when his nose brushed against something slightly course but soft.

“Try again.” The voice coaxed. Wild was skeptical, but did as he was told. With great strength, Wild peeled open his eyes. Even after his eyelids revealed the world around him he couldn’t see right away, it took a while for his vision to clear, yet the voice never grew impatient. He felt heat to his back, and it felt like a fire. Maybe that’s what was so bright. After the fuzziness finally faded, Wild could see he was facing a chest, but it looked odd. There was something missing around the shoulders...

“There he is.” The other voice proclaimed quietly.

“How are you feeling, Cub?” Wild felt the chest he was facing vibrate as the person spoke. Cub… cub.

“Tw’ligh?” Wild slurred, wincing at the dryness of his throat.

“Yeah, Cub.” Wild looked up at the face above him, who looked positively elated for some reason. Wild finally realized why the man looked so off, the usual pelt wrapped around his shoulders was gone. Wild glanced around, eyes slow and fluttering. After looking down he finally realized it was covering him instead.

Wild tried to blink away the fog. That wasn’t right, this was Twilight’s pelt. Oh no, did Wild steal it? That wasn’t very nice…

“Wild?” The other voice washed over him once more, and Wild realized it had probably been a while since he had responded.

“War?” Wild recognized the bright blue scarf, and the eyes that matched. The fog was slowly receding from his mind, but annoyingly stuck around the edges.

“That’s me.” Warriors confirmed with a fond smirk. “How are ya feeling?”

Wild didn’t know how to answer that. Everything hurt, his muscles felt heavy and useless, his head pounded, his throat was on fire… worst of all…

“Cold.” Wild rasped, trying to bury his face into the chest beside him, enjoying the rumble he felt and the sound of a fond chuckle.

“Sorry, Wild. Your fever hasn’t broken yet, we can’t let you get too hot.” Twilight really did sound sorry, but that doesn’t sound right. Fever means hot.

“Cold.” Wild stressed again, his small movement sending a spike of pain around his ribs. “Hurts.” Wild whimpered at the aches and pain that surrounded his body, especially his ribs.

“I know, Cub. It’ll get better soon.” Twilight promised.

“How?” How did he know that? Wild didn’t understand. Goddesses, it felt like he was dying-

Wild froze at that thought. No, no Twilight would tell him. Twilight wouldn’t be so happy, he wouldn’t. The conversation continued as Wild’s world was crashing down on him.

“Your fever hasn’t broken, but it is getting cooler.” An optimistic voice continued, not noticing his panic. Why were they so calm? Wild was dying, he was dying! He felt his breaths get more labored, only sending further panic shooting through him. No, he needed to breathe, breathing meant life and Wild was alive he wasn’t dead he was alive-

“-we’ll fix it, Wild, I promise.” Wild tuned in once more and his heart lurched. Fix it? No, no , no, nononono.

“N-no!” Wild cried out, trying to sit up.

“Woah!” Warriors bolted forward to keep Wild from agitating his illness further. They just got water in his system, they didn't want him to throw it back up now.

“Tw-i. Don’t. P-please don’t.” Wild pleaded.

“Don’t what? Cub we’re not going to do anything.” Twilight’s voice tried to be calm, but the underlying panic only sent Wild further into his spiral. Twilight knew and he was hiding it! The shrine… not the shrine.

“Na- the shrine. P-please. Anythin’ but the shrine. Just let me go.” Wild begged, coughing roughly at the end. Twilight felt his chest grow cold and his stomach drop. ‘Let me go’, ‘No more shrine’, Twilight felt lightheaded. He knew what it meant. Let me die.

“No, no Cub, you’re not hurt. Not badly, you’ll recover.” Twilight tried to reassure but Wild was too far gone.

“Hey, hey.” Wild felt a different pair of hands on his cheeks, calloused from constant swordsmanship, but impossibly gentle. “Calm down.” Warriors soothed, brushing aside Wild’s bangs. No! He didn’t understand. He couldn’t do it, not again. He couldn’t wake up with nothing but a name he didn’t recognize, cold, hungry, scared, alone.

“No shrine, nothing like that. We’re staying right here.” Warriors comforted. Wild shook his head, ignoring the nausea it brought. They didn’t understand, he would forget again. He would forget again. Zelda, the Champions, Riju, Teba, Yunobo, Sidon, the Links. All of them.

“Wild.” Twilight’s voice was soft, but stern, demanding Wild’s attention. “Wild look at me.” A hand took his chin, and he was met with dark blue eyes swirling with intense emotions, half of which Wild couldn’t name. “We’re staying right here. We’re nowhere near the shrine. You’re just sick, you’ll get better, on your own.” Twilight specified, rambling in the hopes that Wild would finally understand. Twilight felt his chest loosen when Wild calmed down slightly.

Twilight wouldn’t lie about that, Wild could trust him.

“No shrine?” Wild confirmed.

“No shrine.” Twilight put on his most reassuring smile, covering his turmoil at Wild’s earlier words.

“Never. Promise.” Wild demanded in the most stern tone he could muster, and judging by Twilight’s shaky smirk he didn’t do a very good job.

“I promise, Cub.”

“Yeah, Hylia knows we wouldn’t even know how to work it- ouch! What it’s true.” Wild tried to laugh at the indignant noise, but all that came out was a coughing fit. He still didn’t understand what was going on, but there was no rush or panic or shouting. It wasn’t like the first time. There were no lasers, or carnage, or desperate screaming.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Twilight deemed after Wild’s fit had passed. “You need more rest.” Wild shook his head. He wanted to stay here, away from the things he sees when he closes his eyes. It was nice here, the fog was finally parting and if he went to sleep it would surround him again.

“Yes, Wild.” Wild heard Warriors laugh at Twi’s exasperated tone.

“No.” Wild commanded, well aware of how much he sounded like a petulant child.

“Wild, we’ll be right here. You need sleep. Real sleep.” Wild shook his head again.

“I’d be careful. Mama bear is ready to knock you out.” Warriors teased, yelping when Twilight used his free arm to smack his shoulder.

“Wild, I swear to Hylia, you are going to sleep.” Twilight threatened. Wild huffed. Fine. Wild lifted a shaky and weak hand from under the pelt, pausing to rest the limb above the covers. Slowly he lifted his left hand, barely reaching his target. He swatted uselessly at Twilight’s chest, trying to find a grip. Finally he managed to snag onto the older’s tunic, just above his heart.

“What are you doing?” Twilight chuckled, all ire forgotten at the Cub’s clumsy actions. This would be the hard part. Wild prepped himself, before putting all his strength into his left arm and pulling himself up as far as possible. Even the simple motion of pulling himself up was like climbing a mountain, all his stamina depleted by the time he put his plan into action as his ribs jolted and burned. His world twisted and swirled as dizziness washed over him, his head feeling light and his eyes watering.

“Wild!” Twilight yelped in surprise, hopefully not waking the camp. Automatically his arms flew around Wild to catch the boy now cradled to his chest. “What the hell are you doing?” Twilight asked again, far more bafflement and scolding in his tone. Wild stubbornly shoved his head into the crook of Twilight’s neck, breathing hard. Nausea surrounded him and his aching muscles cramped and twitched. Twilight winced as Wild coughed directly into his throat. Good things this wasn’t contagious.

“You can’t do that! You can’t push your body like that!” Twilight scolded, his words contradicted his actions as he rubbed soothing circles into Wild’s back.

“I mean, you could have asked.” Warriors agreed, smirking at the scene before him now that Wild seemed to be recovering from his little stunt.

“Stay.” Wild demanded, gripping Twilight’s shirt as the other was cradled to his own chest uselessly. His body had no more energy left to spare and he relied completely on Twilight to keep him from falling.

“I’m right here.” Twilight’s exasperated tone morphed more into confusion. Twilight wasn’t getting it. He was warm. Wild was so cold, and he wanted to be warm. Even if that meant soaking up heat from Twilight like a lizard did on a sunny rock.

“Warm.” Wild’s lips twisted into a crooked smile, not aware enough to try and make both the scarred and unscarred sides of his face match. Warriors didn’t even hide his fond grin at the cheesy sight before him, and Twilight’s shocked face was certainly a bonus.

“Wild your fever.” Twilight chided nervously, attempting to gently get Wild away from his body heat. Even being in his lap was pushing it, Hyrule told him to be careful before he went to bed.

“Warm.” Wild huffed, annoyed at Twilight moving too much. Twilight glared at the muffled laugh he heard from Warriors. ‘Help me!’ Twilight mouthed, glaring at him as the other just shrugged and smirked. Jackass. Twilight supposed it would be okay for a little bit, but… just until Wild fell asleep. Besides, Twilight couldn’t bring himself to push Wild off with the dopey and lopsided the grin the younger had. Instead Twilight tucked the covers and pelt around him, knowing he made the right choice when Wild sighed happily and burrowed further. It was the most content he had seen Wild in days, and if Hyrule found out Twilight had disobeyed his instructions and kicked his ass, it’d be worth it.

“We can watch his fever. Let him have this.” Warriors confirmed the voice in his head, and Twilight relaxed at the fact someone else agreed, allowing himself to lean against the wall to better support Wild’s weight.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna move him.” Wild made a noise that Twilight could only interpret as agreement, and tried not to laugh and disturb the boy curled into him.

“He can understand what we’re saying… that has to be progress, right?” Warriors questioned.

“Yeah, but at this point his fever breaking is the best we can hope for.” Twilight responded as he felt Wild succumb to sleep once more. Twilight didn’t want to admit how worried he was that his fever would never break. He knew that Wild would get better, really he did. But Hylia what Wild had said… what would Twilight do if he had the option. If Wild was dying in his arms and he had a choice. If he had a choice between Wild living with no memories, waking up with them all gone, probably long dead, alone and scared. Or letting Wild, his cub, die. Both options almost sent Twilight over the edge of despair just picturing it.

“Stop.” Warriors scolded, eyes peering into him. Twilight snapped out of his thoughts and glanced back in surprise. “I know what you’re dwelling on. Stop it. It won’t help anything.” Warriors’ tone was harsh, but his eyes were compassionate.

“I know but-”

“No buts. It won’t come to that.”

“You don’t know that.” Twilight’s voice cracked ever so slightly. Warriors sighed, of course he didn’t. Of course Twilight wasn’t the only one who thought at night about where this quest could lead.

“None of us do. But focusing on what-ifs, especially insanely specific ones, doesn’t help it just makes us all suffer. All of us, Twilight.” Warriors stressed, relieved at Twilight’s eyes widening, knowing he had gotten through. The words were harsh, but Twilight never listened when it was just his health on the line. He needed to know that watching him go through that hurt, just as it hurt them when one of the other Links were in a pit of anger and hurt.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Twilight squeezed Wild, needing to feel his heartbeat against his own. He focused on the breaths he felt against his neck. They were shallow and rough but they were there.

“Don’t be, I get it.” Warriors assured. “But let's face it if we think about everything that could happen on this crazy fucking quest we’ll be here for weeks.”

“Yeah…” Twilight shifted, ensuring Wild didn’t have too much pressure on his ribs.

“I’ll watch his fever, you need to rest.” Warriors commanded softly.

“You know that’s not happening.” Twilight glared.

“I didn’t ask you to sleep, I asked you to rest. You need it.” Warriors raised a challenging eyebrow, turning concerned when Twilight just nodded.

“Yeah… okay. Just make sure he doesn’t get too hot.” Twilight leaned his head against the rock, shushing Wild when he mumbled and huffed as his pillow moved. Warriors reached over and placed his hand on the cub’s forehead.

“It’s fine for now.” Warriors smiled, happy the raging fever had dulled, even a little.

Both Warriors and Twilight quieted, and Twilight allowed himself to simply breathe as Warriors kept a sharp eye on the world around them.

~~~

Wild is on a mission and no one shall stop him.

Thank you all for reading! I'll update the summary when I rewrite a chapter so you all know.

And thank you all again so much for the support. I love every comment, and I’m so glad so many people enjoy this story!

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #A Sick Wild Child #wild-centric #wild #twilight #Warriors #Time and Hyrule are only mentioned #same with the other links #sorry lads #sickfic #angst #queenof-literature story #QoL Story

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riverthunder · 4 years ago

Text

The Stars in Our Skies

For @thespacecryptid for the @ironstrangehaven Gift Exchange ❤️

Link to AO3 Post: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625829

Notes:

Alrighty, so first I need to apologize to my giftee, TheSpaceCryptid. I tried to finish your gift early, and I want to say I had it done sometime between the 15th and the 20th? And after a lazy Christmas Day I went into my Google Drive to post this and it was just... gone. I have no idea what happened. So I had to redo the whole thing from scratch. In some ways I like this version a lot more, though- and in others I think the original was a little better? But overall I'm pleased with this.

You had a lot of ideas I absolutely adore- like Asexual Stephen (insert my heart eyes here), and stargazing dates, and these two being professors. Just. Mwah. Beautiful.

Also, I'm tagging this as Teen due to some discussions of sex- nothing graphic, though, obviously- since I headcanon ace Stephen as a sex-repulsed asexual like myself.

I hope you like the fic and your bonus artwork to make up for how late this ended up being! Apologies again!!

The Stars in Our Skies

Tony stared just a little bit as the new astronomy teacher strolled into the break room and began fixing himself a cup of oolong tea. He had a beautiful face, with sharp cheekbones and a well-defined jaw, as well as piercing, beautiful eyes. Tony also had a funny feeling that he’d met the astronomy teacher many times before, but he couldn’t put a finger on where.

He knew Professor Strange had been a surgeon back in the day, and he was sure he’d seen him at some of the galas he’d attended in his youth. But it felt like he’d seen Strange more recently than that.

He was very obviously distracted during his class, and he gave up on whatever physics explanation he’d been trying to give the poor engineering class he was clearly confusing, and told them to just go ahead and work on homework, giving them a bonus extra two days on his latest paper as well to top it off while he sat back down at his desk to think.

At the end of the period, two of his best students came to sit next to him.

“Everything okay, Professor Stark?” Peter asked while Harley gave him a knowing smile.

“Fine, boys, just a little off my rhythm is all,” Tony said, trying to look unconcerned.

“You sure?” Harley asked innocently. “Sure it’s not something else? A certain someone, maybe? Like… I dunno… the hot new astronomy professor?”

Tony had been taking a drink of coffee and choked on it at Harley’s words, which was decidedly not good, since the coffee was still piping hot thanks to his specially designed insulated mug. “I- you- what?” Tony spluttered.

“What?” Harley asked innocently. “He’s kinda like you, Professor. A silver fox. He’s smokin’.”

“Harley!” Peter said indignantly. “You can’t say that about a professor!”

Harley shrugged. “Too bad, it’s true, Pete. ‘Sides, Professor Stark should come to terms with the idea.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at Harley’s tone. “Oh really?” He asked. “Why?”

Harley shrugged innocently. “Because I wrote Professor Strange a note in your handwriting and hid it in his desk drawer asking him to go on a date with you tonight at 8:00.”

Tony stood up so quickly his coffee mug almost spilled all over the papers he’d collected from his first period, but before he could shout at Harley at the top of his lungs, a certain handsome professor was standing in his doorway.

“Oh,” Stephen said, looking from Tony to their students. “I’m sorry, are you busy? I could come back another time.”

He was holding a piece of paper that had obviously been folded a few times in one of his trembling hands.

“No, we were just leaving,” Harley said sweetly.

Peter felt himself blushing for some reason as he passed Professor Stark a quick note of his own. “Um, I just wanted to know if you’d please check my work on these chemistry notes,” he said.

Tony glanced down at them. A new web-fluid design. He nodded to Peter. “Yes. Yes. I’ll look them over and e-mail you with any necessary changes.”

“Thanks!”

Without another word, Peter seized Harley’s upper arm and dashed out of the room, while Harley laughed and tried to protest, clearly thrilled with watching Tony flounder in the presence of his crush. You could hardly blame him. Seeing Tony Stark, Iron Man, who was a professor for fun, flounder, was a rare and almost unheard of sight.

“Hello, Professor Stark,” Strange said politely, and Tony felt his face heating up. “Um- hi- I-”

“I am very sorry,” Stephen said, setting the note in his hand down on Tony’s desk. Tony caught a glimpse of the handwriting- fucking identical to his own. That damn Keener brat. When Tony got his hands on him-

“But I am afraid I must decline your invitation.”

Oh.

Tony hadn’t even known he was asking Stephen on a date a few minutes ago, but somehow Stephen’s words still stung.

“Oh,” he said out loud. “Uh… busy?”

“No,” Stephen replied.

Yeah, that definitely hurt.

“Oh.” Tony glanced at the note and quickly plucked it off the desk. “Okay. That’s fine, I understand. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with this.”

“You didn’t,” Stephen told him. “It was actually very flattering. But I don’t think you would like to be in a relationship with me, so I am afraid I must decline.”

Wait, what?

“Uh… sorry, you lost me,” Tony said awkwardly.

Stephen chuckled. “I identify as asexual,” he explained. “Specifically, a sex-repulsed asexual. And from what I know of your past...er, love life, I think it’s better if I decline the invitation altogether. I don’t want to upset you because you want to have sex and I don’t.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “So it is an ace ring!” He said, pointing at the black ring on Stephen’s middle finger on his right hand. “Rhodey called me crazy and said it was a swinger’s ring!”

Stephen blinked in surprise and glanced down at his ring. “Er- yes, it is,” he agreed.

“Cool! Okay.” Tony shot him a smirk. “In that case- are you an ace of spades?”

Stephen looked shocked. “You- you know about the card suits?”

“Sure do,” Tony said proudly.

Stephen narrowed his eyes. “Okay then- who uses the ace of diamonds?”

“Demisexuals and demiromantic asexuals,” Tony said. “Ace of clubs is for graysexual and grayromantic, ace of spades is for aromantic asexuals, and ace of hearts is for romantic asexuals.”

He grinned, and Stephen had to crack a smile. “Very impressive.”

“So, what’s your suit, Doc?” Tony asked, grinning at him, and Stephen had to resist the urge to let that smile widen.

“Ace of hearts. I’m a romantic asexual.”

Tony grinned. “I can work with that.”

Stephen allowed his face to fall into a small frown. “Tony, I-”

“Look, Doc, I don’t need sex to be happy,” Tony said. “I’ve had loads in my day, yeah, but I’m a big boy and frankly, I think it’s about time I had a relationship that wasn’t so focused on it. If you’re good with a romantic relationship, I can be happy with one, too.”

Stephen chuckled despite himself. “Persistent, aren’t you?”

“Very,” Tony said, a bit smugly.

Stephen chuckled. “Very well.” He wrote something on a small scrap of paper and offered it to Tony, taking back the note Harley had written. “You can pick me up there, at 8:00.”

“I’ll be there,” Tony said, snatching the fake letter back. “And I’ll give you something actually written by me then.”

~(*)~

Tony pulled up to the house on Bleecker Street. Huh… looked kinda like a museum, to be honest.

The elegant Professor Strange was already walking to meet the car. “Right on time,” he teased, climbing in. He looked like he was putting on a brave face as he entered, and Tony took note of the way Stephen’s hand reached for the cabinet handle on the inside of the door.

Tony bit his lip. “I just like to be on time to things,” he said casually, placing his right hand on the console if Stephen wanted to hold it too, or instead.

Stephen nodded. “Well, I appreciate it. So, what’s the plan for our date?”

“I think you told Professor Verity that you like ramen from Samurai Noodle, right?”

Stephen smiled. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Great! Then we’re getting take-out,” Tony told him, grinning to himself. “And I have a great idea of where we can eat it.”

“Oh? And where is that, exactly?”

“It’s a secret,” Tony said, smirking. “Are you ready to go?”

Stephen nodded, looking amused as he took Tony’s free hand on the console. “That I am. Let’s go, Professor Stark.”

Tony snorted as he started the car. “Alright.”

He tried to sound cool, but he knew that he had started blushing.

~(*)~

“So what exactly are we doing in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night?” Stephen asked as Tony laid a large blanket out in one of the large fields near the Avengers Compound.

“Why?” Tony asked, smirking at him. “Don’t you trust me?”

Stephen chuckled. “Is that your way of saying you’re secretly an ax murderer about to eviscerate me in the middle of this field, free of any witnesses?”

“Ouch,” Tony complained. “You’re really good at wounding someone’s ego, you know that, Strange?”

“So what’s the real reason we’re out here, then?” Stephen asked, amused.

“Lay down,” Tony ordered, pointing to the blanket. “And look up.”

Stephen did so, and gasped in surprise. “The stars….” He breathed, sounding mesmerized.

“That’s right,” Tony said, smiling at him. “Not to easy to see them in the city. But I figured you’re the Astronomy Professor… maybe you’d like to see them more clearly? Maybe teach me something I don’t know?”

“Lay down,” Stephen ordered quietly. “There… Orion the Hunter. Can you see his belt? The three stars, just here.”

“Oh… right,” Tony said. “Isn’t he that dude everyone says Artemis loved?”

“A common misconception these days,” Stephen murmured. “In many of the myths, Artemis was actually the one to kill him, on purpose, for harassing her friends, the Pleiades, or she would encourage someone else to kill him for her, such as Apollo. He’d summon a giant scorpion to kill Orion, which many believe is Scorpio, as the two constellations aren’t around at the same time. When Scorpio rises, Orion vanishes.”

“Cool,” Tony said softly, staring up at the night sky with Stephen. “What else can you see?”

“Sirius, the Dog Star, Orion’s hunting dog,” Stephen said, pointing to the bright star. You can see the constellation Taurus there. Gemini there. Monoceros is there, very faint. You see? Look closely.”

“Beautiful,” Tony murmured, resting his head on Stephen’s chest as he gazed up at the sky.

Stephen smiled to himself and wrapped an arm around him. “Hmm. Not as beautiful as you,” he murmured in a thoughtful voice, making Tony blush.

~(*)~

“Was that an okay date?” Tony wondered as he drove Stephen back to Bleecker Street.

Stephen smiled at him. “You don’t know?”

“Not really,” Tony admitted. “And I kinda wanna… you know. Do this again.”

Stephen chuckled as they reached the museum door. Wait… how come even the building looked sort of familiar? And the street…?

“Well, in that case… it was a perfect date, Professor Stark.” Stephen leaned over, kissing his lips gently. “And I expect to go on another one with you very soon.”

“Sure,” Tony said, a little breathlessly, his eyes wide as he stared at Stephen. “Whatever you want….”

“Perfect.” Stephen smiled at him, and suddenly something long, red, and fluttering was at his throat, gently tugging him out of the car. “Alright, Levi, alright. I’m coming,” Stephen murmured, reaching out to stroke the red fabric.

Tony stared at it. A sentient cloak….

Wait- was he-?

Stephen was already disappearing inside the door when Tony found his voice, so he couldn’t ask him directly. He sat in the dark of his car, dumbfounded, and feeling his heart pounding. Was that the kiss, his sudden epiphany, or both?

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Boss?” Chirped the cool Irish accent.

“Am… am I dating the Sorcerer Supreme?”

Extra Notes:

To clarify the "Stephen is the Sorcerer Supreme but Tony doesn't recognize him but is sure he's met him before" thing- I headcanon that Stephen's magic acts as a sort of "barrier" to his identity- and just protects his identity for him. I got the idea from Cute High Earth Defense Club actually- where the villains and heroes can't really recognize each other as specific students when they meet due to "radio interference" almost- but in my Stephen headcanon, it's more that the magic puts a sort of veil over Stephen, so Tony is sure he's met him before, but he can't put his finger on where until he recognizes Cloakie and goes "oh shit, Stephen's the Sorcerer Supreme I've been battling monsters with???"

#Ironstrange #IronStrange fic #IronStrange Art #chara’s fics #chara’s art #gift art #gift fic #tony stark #anthony edward stark #stephen strange #stephen vincent strange

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parkertech · 4 years ago

Text

Tattoos & Tears - CHAPTER 3

a/n: on everybody's 18th birthday, they get a tattoo of their soulmate written on their wrist. for you, it's your best friend who you thought you got over. who even has a girlfriend of his own.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of drinking

———————————————————————

Blinking a few times, you frantically wiped your wrist up and down, back and forth, any direction that was possible. But it wouldn’t come off. The name wasn’t coming off. The name wasn’t coming off!

When you realized your fate was sealed and there was nothing you could do about it your hands flew up to the side of your heads as the tears started leaking out.

What the fuck were you gonna do?

What the fuck were you gonna tell MJ?

What were you gonna tell Peter?

Betty was just as silent as you, her mouth agape and staring at you in absolute shock. She snapped out of it when she heard you sniffle and saw how quickly your eyes and cheeks were turning red.

“Y-Y/N don’t cry-“ The beginning of her sentence only made you sob, before you were sliding down the bathroom door. You covered your eyes with your palms and you continued sobbing. Betty slowly sat down next to you and gently grasped your shoulders. She pulled you to her, your head laying on her chest. Your tears were seeping through her white turtleneck, but she couldn’t give a care in the world.

“W-What the fuck am I g-gonna do?!” Your voice cracking and how scared you sounded made Betty’s heart crack even more. The fear on her face didn’t make anything better. She usually knew what to do when you’re sad, but right now? She didn’t know what to do herself, other than help you pour all your emotions out. And that’s exactly what she did.

Neither of you knew how long, but you let out broken sobs and cried your entire soul out. Betty stroked your hair while whispering reassurances. Eventually, you brought back your breathing to normal, and moved away from Betty. Taking one last shaky breath, you leaned your head back while closing your eyes. Betty looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something.

“Betty...I’m in so much shit...” you laughed it off a little at the end, only because it was kind of your coping method. But she could see right through your act, and took your hand in a firm grip.

“Y/N...look at me...” you shake your head while a tear peaks through your closed eye and rolls down your cheek. Betty grips your hand tighter and yanks it a little. “Look at me, Y/N!” It’s more of a demand, and you finally open your eyes and turn your head to her. She could see how scared you were by just looking at her, and it made her face fall a little. You never were the weak one of the group, and seeing you like this? It just made the situation all the more serious.

“Y/N, I know it seems like this is really bad-“

“Because it is really bad!” Your sudden outburst made her flinch, and you stood up to pace around the room. Your breath was getting quicker, and everything seem to slow down more and more. Both of you knew what was happening, but knew addressing it was going to make it worse.

“Yeah, it is, but that doesn’t mean you can’t figure this out...” Betty said cautiously. You laughed sarcastically before turning to her.

“Figure it out? Figure it out?” Your voice got more and more angrier towards the end. “There is no, ‘figuring this out’, Betty! He’s supposedly my soulmate yet he’s dating one of my best fucking friends!”

“I know, I know! But think about it...you don’t even like Peter! Maybe it’s a mistake, maybe...” her voice was drowning out the more and more she negotiated. That familiar ringing came back to your head as you covered your ears and shut your eyes. Behind the ringing, sounded like something bending against its will.

“Are you even listening to me?! This doesn’t have to be a big deal!” Snap.

“IT IS A BIG DEAL BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!” Betty’s eyes went wide and she shut up immediately. At this point, you didn’t care what she said. You were too overwhelmed to feel anything other than embarrassment, humiliation, and guilt.

“I had a crush on him during Europe, and I saw him...kiss MJ on the London Bridge...” you admitted through sobs. “I-I didn’t want to get in the way of his happiness...so I just went M.I.A for a week and let it happen. I-I thought I got over it, b-but now it feels like the trip all over again, but so, so much more worse. And I know he doesn’t want me, because he’s with MJ and I know he loves her, and I just-“

A knock at the door makes both of you stop, and turn to it.

“Hey, Y/N you in here?” MJ’s voice.

“Brad told us you might be here.” Peter’s voice.

At the sound of his voice, you let out a quiet breath and covered your mouth, holding back a sob. Betty took a deep breath while taking a glance at you, before unlocking the bathroom door and opening it a tiny bit. Only to keep you out of sight and her in view. She faked a smile while observing MJ and Peter’s slightly concerned expressions.

“Hey guys! Y/N got a little drunk, and is kinda throwing up a lot...” Peter grimaced and made a disgusted face while MJ furrowed her eyebrows. She didn’t hear you throwing up...and why wasn’t Betty opening the door all the way?

“Oh...does she need help?” MJ peeked her foot through the door, trying to open it a little more. She knew that if Betty didn’t cooperate, something was up. Her suspicion was confirmed when she tried to close the door more.

“N-No! She’s like, really embarrassed and doesn’t want anyone else to see her like this...and you were kinda busy we heard, so yeah, I’m just here...helping her...” Peter was completely clueless and believing Betty, but MJ was still puzzled. Betty knew she was by the way she tilted her head.

Dammit, why did she have to be so smart and observant?

“Well, we’re gonna go, if that’s okay.” Peter speaks up. You sigh a little in relief. If you saw his face, let alone him with MJ, you were gonna break down all over again.

“Yeah, yeah! Goodnight guys!” Betty speaks a little too quickly and slams the door shut as MJ was about to speak. It’s her turn to let out the breath she was holding, before she walks over to you and hugs you tightly. You hug her back just as tight.

“We’re gonna work this out, I promise...” you don’t have any energy to argue, so you nod and bury your head into her neck. You wanted to believe her, but the possibilities didn’t really seem in your favor.

After Betty knew MJ and Peter left for sure, she got help from Flash to turn off the party. If it weren’t for Flash saying he’d move it to his house, people would still be there. You and Betty were laying down together in your bed. You were able to stop crying completely, but your thoughts were still going haywire. You were playing fake scenarios in your head where somehow Peter and MJ found out, and you could picture the absolute disgust on their faces, and the way they would leave you in a heart beat. It just made the ache in your heart grow more and more.

Betty announced that she was going to the bathroom, hesitant to leave you alone. But you reassured her you could be left alone for 5 minutes. As you were playing with the string of your sweatshirt, you heard a tapping at your window. It interrupted the silence, making you jump and turn to the window. Peter was there, with a bag in his hand and a concerned face that made him cuter than he already was.

Mustering up all your strength, you slowly stride over to the window, slowly opening it. Peter caught your red eyes, even though you were trying to hide it with a smile.

“Y/N, have you been crying?” Your face falls as you feel the tears come to your eyes. All you wanted to do was nod your head and throw yourself into his arms. But you couldn’t, cause he would ask what happened. And you didn’t have a good lie. You’re able to keep your tears down, thank god, and you shake you head.

“Relax, it’s from puking my brains out.” You added a little laugh to make your sarcastic humor seem more believable. Peter looked at you hesitantly before nodding.

“Well, speaking of that, I got you your favorites, and medicine for your morning hangover...” he handed you the plastic bag in his hands, and you took it, looking inside. There was your favorite candy, soda, some ibuprofen, along with a tiny Spider-Man plushie holding a heart he swiped from Delmar’s. You smiled at the little care package he made. It showed how kind and sweet he was, which was one of the main reasons you liked him so much. But you were always reminded that he was MJ’s by your subconscious.

“Thank you, Pete. This is really sweet...” You look back up at him, and realize how close your faces were. You sucked in a breath at the same time as Peter. You got lost into how brown his eyes were. Where they always that gorgeous in the moonlight? Peter cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” He mumbled. Peter could feel his heart rate speeding up, but pushed that thought down. After a few beats of silence, he spoke up again. “You know I care about you, a lot?” You nodded, but he kept speaking. “I’m serious. I know I’ve been busy with MJ-“

“That’s cause she’s your girlfriend. It’s okay, Pete-“

“No, lemme finish. That doesn’t give me a right to completely abandon you. You’re important to me too. You’re like my sister.” Ouch. Peter continues talking, but your brain is stuck on that one sentence.

‘You’re like my sister’

The words crushed your heart, and you knew if you kept standing there talking to Peter, your secret was going to be revealed sooner than you liked.

“Thank you, Peter, for the little care package. I’m kind of sleepy, and MJ’s probably waiting for you, so I’ll just see you tomorrow.” Your words sound a little harsh, and Peter is taken aback a bit. What did he do wrong? Why is she mad at me?

“Oh...yeah, you must be tired after all that...” you nod awkwardly. You could see the slight hurt in his face, and couldn’t fight the slight guilt you had. Of course, you had to fuck things up even more. You go to close your window, before Peter speaks out one last time.

“Who’s your soulmate?” You freeze at his sentence, and turn to him. He waits for your answer, while you come up with an excuse.

“It’s...Brad Davis!” Peter’s face falls, and it suddenly felt like he got crushed by a building. Brad? How the fuck could it be that asshole?

“B-Brad Davis...?” Peter stutters. He feels his hearing fade and his stomach sinking when you nod. “You mean the fuckboy of the school, Brad Davis?” Peter says it with such hate and venom, you’re shocked at it.

“Yeah...? Why?” Peters jaw clenched as he gripped the window ceil tightly, and tilted his head away from you.

“I don’t think you should go for him.” You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him slightly disgusted. What was he leading to?

“Why not? I don’t really have a choice since he’s my soulmate.” Peter clenched his eyes shut while his brain is filled with you and Brad kissing, you and Brad going on dates, you and Brad getting married, you and Brad being soulmates. The word seemed to disgust him, and his heart was filled with jealousy instead of his usual compassion.

“Brad, of all people though? Y/N, you know he’s a fucking asshole!”

“Whoa, Peter! Calm down, why are you acting like my parents?” Peter knew he was being a little out of line, but he couldn’t fight the sudden ache to beat Brad’s face in at the possibility of him being your one and only. He knew his intentions. He was the type to fuck and leave. It wasn’t a slim chance he’d change for you.

“Y/N, I don’t trust him. I don’t care what the tattoo says, stay away from him.” Who the hell does he think he is to be commenting about your love life? Especially with a girlfriend of his own? Instead of the misery you were in before, you were now annoyed and mad.

“Peter, like I said, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Peter could tell by how harsh your voice was that he went too far.

“No, wait, Y/N!-“ you closed the window and shut your curtains, leaving Peter guilty. “Shit...” me mutters. Without even thinking about it, he smacks the wall next to him angrily before going down your fire escape.

Why did he say anything? He should’ve just let you and Brad be happy! But he can’t be. Peter knows how Brad is, and the the thought of him doing that to you? Breaking your heart, manipulating you, all for a quick fuck? Yeah, he was not gonna sit by and let that happen. The thought of you being mad at him just made him more disappointed in himself.

But why was he being so protective? It’s your love life. He can’t control it, let alone all the men on planet fucking earth. It wasn’t impossible for someone to cheat on you. Cheating was common, nowadays. He would be there for you during your heart break, definitely, but still feel guilty. Even if he had nothing to do with it.

His thoughts were full of you during his walk home, and they were interrupted when he saw MJ sitting on his bed with her arms crossed. He walked her home, so he was slightly alarmed to see her there.

“Babe, what are you doing here? I thought you were sleeping at your place?” She raised an eyebrow at him, maintaining eye contact.

“I wanted to sleep over here tonight. But you were gone. Doing what exactly, Peter?” Peter furrowed his eyebrows at how suggestive she was being, but saved that comment for when it was needed.

“I was just at Y/N’s...why?”

“And why were you at her place?” Wait...was MJ jealous? And why was she being jealous?

“I was just giving her stuff to help her with her hangover tomorrow. Is that such a crime?” Peter said a little snippy. MJ was being a little too protective. This is probably how you felt when he commented about Brad...wait, not important right now!

“No...but somethings wrong with her.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows in even more confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Betty was acting weird when we came to check on her. So was Y/N.” Peter rolled his eyes at her before sitting down next to her.

“Babe, maybe you’re overreacting. Think about it, Y/N turned 18 literally an hour ago. She’d celebrate with drinks like every other teenager, maybe too much, which leads to puking. Maybe Betty was just sticking to her word.” MJ processed Peter’s words, and realized he was right. Neither of them were there to fully deny what Betty explained to them. And Peter wouldn’t cheat on her. He was to sweet for that.

MJ groaned and hid her face in her hands. “Jesus...I’m so stupid. I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me...” she apologized meekly.

“No, it’s okay. You don’t think I’d do anything to hurt you, right?” She shook her head. “Then there’s nothing to worry about, okay?” She nods and closes her eyes, and Peter reassures her by planting a kiss on the top of her head. “We should go to bed, it’s late.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” MJ changes into one of Peter’s science pun t-shirts, and Peter changes into a pair of sweatpants with no shirt on. MJ turns off his bedside lamp, and squeezes onto his twin size bed. Peter wraps an arm around MJ from behind, and gives her one last goodnight kiss.

MJ was knocked out the second she was in Peter’s arms, but Peter on the other hand was stuck thinking about you. He found himself thinking about you a lot. He kept replaying earlier’s moments over and over. He kept replaying the confused yet hurt expression on your face, and he cringed internally. He prayed to god that he didn’t fuck anything up between you two. If anything, he would apologize for it at school, and everything would be okay.

Or so he hoped.

———————————————————————

a/n: okay, just wanna say that the amount of support and love i’ve gotten from this series so far has really made me feel so 🥰. i did not expect tattoos & tears to actually pop off like—y’all are INSANE. i just wanted to say tysm and ily all 🥺

Taglist 🏷 (requests are open!)

@marvel4geeks @ladykxxx08 @chloecreatesfictions @joyleenl @witchything

#peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #spider-man #spider-man far from home #spider-man homecoming #tom holland #spider man homecoming imagine #spider man far from home imagine #spider man x reader #spider man x you #ffh #peter parker x you

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bts-reveries · 5 years ago

Text

waste it on me | part 28 FINALE

#jinjinmiyeon wedding

moodboard by @tan-dulset

“Is he here? I didn’t see him when we walked in, I wasn’t looking,” you whispered to Miya as the ceremony was starting.

“If you weren’t looking, what makes you think I was?” She replies, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’m sure he’s sitting there Yn, don’t worry about it. My sister’s getting married!” You laugh slightly, turning to the couple who always treated you as their younger sibling. You were sure that Jungkook was there watching too, the thought of him being right behind you was making your heart beat a little faster.

The ceremony, of course, was very beautiful. You and Miya on the other hand, was not looking as beautiful with the tear stains on your cheeks. After the two were announced as husband and wife, sealing it with a kiss, you and Miya couldn’t help but cry more happy tears as your favorite couple finally made it official. As the two walked back up the aisle, waving and smiling at the guests, the maid of honor, and co-best men, and you, the bridesmaid, followed behind. Miya walked up with Taehyung and you walked up with Namjoon. Your eyes scanned around as you two passed the guests, looking for a certain someone. Everyone was smiling, clapping, and phones were in the air to capture this moment. You weren’t mad at it, but it kept you from seeing the one person you were looking for.

As you were passing by the last row, you glanced at four happy faces with the cutest smiles. A gummy smile, a heart smile, a smile where the eyes were shaped as crescent moons, and lastly, your favorite bunny smile. You couldn’t help but smile even bigger as you saw your friends for the first time in a while. Especially the guy you’ve been waiting for. Namjoon waves at them as you two pass by.

“See, he did come,” Namjoon says, smiling down at you. Although he had a tough exterior, Namjoon’s pretty sweet inside. Maybe the whole wedding thing is making him the softy he truly is.

“He did.”

***

After the entrance of the newly married couple and the best men, maid of honor, and the bridesmaid, the four of you, minus Miyeon and Jin, ran towards the four boys.

“TAEHYUNG-AH,” Jimin yelled as he met Taehyung half way. The two caused several people’s heads to turn, looking for the cause of the loudness.

“Hobi~” Miya says, giving Hobi a big hug. He hugs her back tightly.

“Ah Miya, I think your boyfriend stole my best friend,” Hobi says, frowning at the two boys.

“No, I think your best friend stole my boyfriend,” she glares. “He’s been facetiming Jimin nonstop since you guys left.”

“Namjoonsssssiiii,” Yoongi says with a smile, walking towards the taller man.

“Yoongi hyung,” he says back, sheepishly smiling as he already knew what he was going to say.

“Did you find it?” Yoongi asked with a knowing smile.

“Ah… I did not,” he says, hanging his head low. Yoongi laughs.

“Actually…” He reaches into his pocket, holding out the external hard drive that he and Namjoon shared.

“Hyung you had it all this time???” Namjoon says in shock.

“I guess, but I could’ve sworn you took it. Jungkook found it in his room, turns out all the other boys used it so,” Yoongi laughs, “this hard drive is probably full of songs written by our angsty teenage self and Jimin’s, Hobi’s, and Jungkook’s… I don’t know. I’m kinda scared to see what’s inside honestly.”

“Well since Jin hyung’s moving out, we can turn his room into a studio. Turn our old songs into something you know?”

“You really are happy that Jin hyung’s leaving,” Taehyung pouts as Jimin clings onto his side.

Meanwhile, you squeeze through everybody to get to Jungkook. Who’s just calmly sitting at the table.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” You smile as you finally stand in front of him. Jungkook looks at you as he drinks from his glass. Nodding. You pout at him, knowing that he can’t resist that. So of course, Jungkook wasn’t able to hold his smile back any longer, he put his glass down gently before standing up and sweeping you off your feet, spinning around.

“Aigoo~ I missed you,” He said, setting you back down.

“I missed you too,” you say, tippy toeing to give him a kiss.

“Yah~ It’s my wedding, stop taking all my attention,” Miyeon says, the two of you turn to her and giggle.

“Sorry unnie, hehe,” you say.

“I’m kidding, I’m happy for you two,” she says. Jungkook walks over to her and Jin.

“I’m happier for you two,” he says, giving Miyeon a hug, and then Jin.

“Thanks JK, we’re glad you’re back. How long are you staying?” Jin asks. Jungkook turns around to see if you were listening, thankfully, you were distracted by Hobi.

“I’ll be here for a while. I got an apartment,” he says. Jin and Miyeon’s eyes widen.

“But! Don’t say anything, I want to surprise Yn.”

“Lips are sealed,” Miyeon says.

“Hyung,” Taehyung calls. “Shall we start the surprise performance?”

“Surprise performance?” Miyeon says.

“Let’s go?” Jin says to Miyeon, pulling her to the center.

“Wait-- us?” Miyeon says in confusion. Meanwhile, Taehyung runs up to the stage, speaking into the microphone.

“Good evening everyone! So you all know my brother-- well that’s kind of stupid for me to say since it’s his wedding,” Taehyung says sheepishly as he makes a mistake right when he speaks, making everyone laugh. “But my older older brother Jin has a surprise performance that he wanted to start off with tonight. My sister, now I can officially call you my sister,” Taehyung says, smiling towards Miyeon, who smiles happily back at him. “Although, that’s kind of weird because I’m dating your sister, so that’s like dating my sister’s sister which makes Miya my sister--”

“Okay let’s go,” Namjoon interrupts, grabbing Taehyung’s arm and pulling him off the stage. Taehyung reaches over for the mic and quickly yells out.

“Let’s give it up for Jin hyung!”

Everyone claps as Jin makes it on stage, fixing the mic to the position he needed it to be on. Taehyung makes his way back to the group’s table, sitting down in between Jimin and Miya.

“Why would you say that,” she says, slapping his arm gently.

“It was just a random thought!” He says. You laugh at the two.

“I wonder what Jin’s going to serenade Miyeon with,” you whisper to Jungkook.

“He didn’t tell you guys? I thought it was just a surprise for noona.”

You shrug, “I think only the Kim brothers know.”

Jin starts off by clearing his throat, and nodding towards the DJ to start playing the instrumentals. The beginning began to play.

“Not sure if you know this

But when we first met

I got so nervous I couldn't speak

In that very moment

I found the one and

My life had found its missing piece~” Jin sang, staring into Miyeon’s eyes.

“Oh my gosh he’s singing beautiful in white,” Miya says as tears began to slip down her cheeks once again. Taehyung laughs, pulling his sleeves over his hand to wipe them away.

“How many times are you going to cry today,” he says, placing a kiss on the place where the tears were once on.

“I don’t know I’m just overly emotional today,” she says, fanning her face.

“So as long as I live I love you

Will have and hold you

You look so beautiful in white

And from now 'til my very last breath

This day I'll cherish

You look so beautiful in white

Tonight~”

“The song is so perfect for them,” you say, holding tightly to Jungkook’s hand. “This might be too early to say… but do you think we’ll have a relationship like them? Even with the distance?”

Jungkook looks over at you and smiles.

“Yeah, we did pretty well so far didn’t we?” Jungkook says. You nod.

“I wish we had more time together though,” you say, smiling as Jin began to walk towards Miyeon.

“What we have is timeless

My love is endless

And with this ring I

Say to the world

You're my every reason

You're all that I believe in

With all my heart I mean every word~”

***

“Throw it towards me!” Miya yells at her sister. Miyeon was just about to throw her bouquet. She had her back turned towards the crowd of single ladies. You didn’t want to go up, but Miya pulled you with her. You glance over at Jungkook and he laughs as you awkwardly stand between the crowd of girls who are desperately trying to get the bouquet.

“Ready?” Miyeon asks, prepping to throw the flowers. Jungkook looks over at you and gives you two thumbs up as if actually wanting you to catch it. You laugh at him, totally not realizing that the bouquet was already thrown until it hit you in the head and a bunch of Miyeon and Miya’s cousins tried to take it before you did.

Your eyes widen and you back up a bit, the guests begin to laugh and clap as Miyeon’s cousin raises the bouquet in her hand. You look over at the boys who were laughing and pointing at you and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as well.

“Dang, I was really trying to be the next one to get married,” Miya says, laughing, as you two walk back to the table.

“You suck babe,” Taehyung says as Miya sat down beside him.

“Shut up, bet you won’t even catch the garter when Jin throws it,” she replies.

“Well now that I know you didn’t catch the bouquet, I won’t be trying to catch the garter at all. You really want me to be paired up with your cousin?”

“No,” Miya pouts.

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, since Yn didn’t try to catch it, I’ll just stand there and wait for it to hit me in the head,” Jungkook teases.

“You distracted me!”

“I am pretty eye catching, aren’t I?” Jungkook winks. You scoff, turning away from him.

“I don’t know who this man is anymore,” you joke.

***

“So what now?” Jimin asks, stuffing his mouth with the wedding cake. It was just you ten left at the reception. Everything was cleaned out but the one table you all are sitting at.

“I don’t know it’s my first time getting married,” Jin says.

“We usually leave right after they cut the cake and stuff when we go to weddings with family,” Namjoon says, pushing his plate away as he finished his slice.

“I think we’re all supposed to go home now so Jin hyung and noona can… you know.. spend their first night together,” Hobi says, raising his eyebrows.

“I think I just threw up a little,” Miya says, placing a napkin over her mouth.

“Me too,” you say in a scratchy voice.

“I don’t care, I want a nephew,” Taehyung says, putting his fork down and giving a stern face to the married couple.

“Slow down,” Miyeon says with a nervous laugh, “one thing at a time, pleaSE.”

“A niece?” Taehyung gives her his best puppy eyes and pout in a way to bribe her. She shakes her head no, whispering a “not yet.”

“Hobi is right though,” Yoongi says, beginning to clean up a bit. Hobi looks at Jin with a smile as he raises his brows once again. “Jin hyung’s been waiting for over ten years, let’s not make him wait any longer.”

“Y-yAh..” Jin says with slight embarrassment, his ears turning a dark shade of red.

“If you’re not ready for a kid yet, be safe,” Jimin says with seriousness, patting Jin’s shoulder as he stands up from his seat. Jin swallows as he suddenly feels uncomfortable that every one of his friends are going to know what’s going down tonight.

“Aww, I kinda didn’t want this night to end,” you frowned as you got up slowly.

“Why not?” Jungkook asks.

“We’re having so much fun, I don’t want to go back to normal-- plus I’m going to miss Jin and Miyeon,” you say sadly. “Ugh you all are leaving and it’s making me SAD.”

“Oh yeah, that’s true,” Miya says. “It’ll be just us four.”

“We’ll only be gone for like 2 weeks,” Miyeon says.

“We won’t be leaving for LA until Friday so we have plenty of time,” Hobi smiles.

“Really??” You say, your mood rising slightly.

“Yeah, but after that we’re going to have to say goodbye to them. It’s gonna suck,” Jungkook says with a sad smile.

“We’ll move in with you again soon Kook, I don’t think you’ll survive living alone,” Jimin says.

“Yeah I’m going to miss living with you three, I don’t think I’ll be able to live alone either,” Jungkook says with a small laugh.

“Yeah, if I move here too then maybe we can actually do something with the songs we wrote,” Yoongi says, smiling over at Namjoon.

“I like that,” he replies.

“Ooooo and if I move here too, then we can be together!!” Jimin says happily to Taehyung.

“We can hang out everyday!!” Taehyung replies with the same amount of enthusiasm.

“Hey don't forget about me,” Miya pouts.

“Ahh.. I don’t think I’ll be able to move here soon though. LA is where my vibe is, you know?? plus, I work there,” Hobi says, laughing halfheartedly.

“Ooh.. I can’t leave Hobi hyung alone then,” Jimin says.

“Dang, why do we have to live on separate sides of the world??” Taehyung says, frowning.

Meanwhile, you were trying to process everything.

“Hold on,” you finally spoke up. “Rewind, please. I’m… confused? Is everyone staying? Is everyone leaving? Is some staying, some going, I-- I don’t understand..”

“I got an apartment,” Jungkook says to you. “Here, in Seoul.”

You look at him with wide eyes.

“That’s why I wasn’t able to visit often,” he says with a small laugh. “And that’s why I had to work all the time. I was just saving up for the place.”

“So.. you’re.. staying? Here? With me?”

Jungkook smiles at you, nodding his head. “No more long distance. I spent too much time away from you in the first place, I’m making up for lost times. I won’t be leaving you ever again. No more goodbyes. I’ll be here. I’ll be here always.”

“Aigoo~ she’s crying again,” Taehyung teases as more tears run down your face.

“Leave me alone,” you mumble, wiping under your eyes with your finger.

"No more goodbyes, just see you laters. So,” Jungkook says, leaning over to wipe your face. “No more tears. I’m going to be by your side always. I’m not leaving Yn. I’m staying here,” he smiles, gently holding your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I love you too much to let you go again.”

☞ ☞ ☞ ☞ ☞ ☞ ☞

waste it on me

☞part 28: #jinjinmiyeon wedding☜

→ pairings: jeon jungkook x reader

→ a/n: super quick disclaimer, i have never gotten married nor have i ever attended a korean wedding so this is not written as a korean wedding, just weddings i went to here in america and based off of what i see on movies???

also, this is the finale! i’m so sorry if you hate it, i will also make an epilogue to see how the couple is doing and yeah! i know it’s been a roller coaster of emotions going on on this au and a lot of y’all were frustrated in the beginning because of jungkook, but it’s all good now~ ......right?

anyways, i hope you all liked this au, i know it’s not the best, but if you stick around my account, you might just be able to watch me get better? who knows!

→ taglist:

@kookiemonstersugatea @lylanie12 @crazyferalvigilantedragonwriter @serious-addiction @zamasus-sugarbaby @cosmicdaylight @strwberry-jam @ratking101 @chiminilove @ask-blogger-miss-prussia @lyssjeon @moonlightrose19 @blueberrykenn @jungmanor @forkpops @nochujjk97 @bldvnbln @hplsmoon @kirbykook @girl-with-luvvv @vantaexx @ephyra1230 @girlwiththeglittereyeliner @akirathao @catspancake @kawaii-desv @strapsforyoonie @dammit-jjk @to-onystark @butterflylion @apollukee @xionysus @ilyluuna @uglyratlmao @iridescentplethora @monosomes @tomowasu @taekookcaneatme @mayumioutloud @rjsmochii @super-btstrash-posts @hellotherehoneybee @betysotelo18 @moon6rop @kxk-soul @honeycutelove @cchristinnaa @io-is-lame @shadowstark @goldenchemistry @incredibleella @sope-and-shine

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

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im-not-fine · 3 years ago

Text

So i havent written in over a year so i am ✨rusty✨. I wrote this in like two hours but its kinda cute so like here. Trying to get back in the swing of writing and posting.

Pairing: Willex

Warnings: None

Summary: Luke thanking Willie for being a great boyfriend to Alex.

°●°●°●°●°●°●°

The last thing that Luke expected to see when he popped into the garage was Alex and Willie slow dancing together to a song he had never heard before. Alex was wearing what he had to be one of Willie's hoodies. Willie was wearing Alex's signature pink hoodie that he had gotten Alex for his birthday 2 years before they died.

"Oh, hey man," Willie greated Luke with a huge smile.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt. I was kind of hoping the place was empty so I could write something. Go back to dancing. I'll see you guys later." Luke turned to leave when he felt a hand grab his wrist.

Alex gave him a warm smile, "Go ahead and write. We aren't going to bother you." Alex assured him.

"You sure? I really can just come back later," Luke said trying to make sure that it was actually fine. He didn't know Willie that well and didn't know how he felt about Luke.

"We're sure, man," Willie said with a grin.

Alex moved away and back to willie. Luke walked over and grabbed his notebook off the piano and moved to the couch.

He watched Alex teaching Willie the box step. The two quietly laughing to themselves when Willie steps on Alex's foot or stumbles a little.

Luke smiled at the pair, he hasn't seen Alex this happy in what feels like forever.

Luke used the two as inspiration as he wrote lyrics down feeling the magic coursing through him. He was caught off guard when he saw Willie pack up to leave. He gave Alex a quick kiss and moved towards the door.

"Willie, wait!" Luke rushed out hoping off the couch. They both turned curious. "I want to talk to you before you go, if that's okay with Alex." Luke awkwardly stood their glancing to both of them.

Alex nodded, relaxing the other men. Luke gave willie a soft smile and lead him out. "what's up?" Willie asked once they were out of earshot of Alex.

"I just. . . I need to thank you." Luke wrapped his arms around himself not sure what to do.

"For what?" Willie wondered, cocking his head to the side.

"For helping Alex. I haven't seen him like this since the '90's and it means so much to me." Willie seemed surprised by luke. "Alex is my best friend and I need you to know I will forever appreciate that you've been helping him with his Anxiety and teaching him about the world." Luke had to hold back his tears but he wasn't doing a good job at it.

"Luke, I-"

"Please let me finish," Luke begged and Willie nodded. "Alex has struggled his entire life with who he is, his family, and having to lock himself away so people can't see who he really is. So he can stay safe. He had just started opening up again when we died and had come out to his parents a month before. I want you to know that watching the two of you. . . it made me realize just how important you are to him. That means the world to Reggie, Julie, and I. We owe you so much. If you ever need anything just let us know, okay?"

Willie had tears welling up in his eyes when he lunged for Luke and tackled him into a hug. "Thank you." Willie said and pulled back wiping his face. "I know it may seem too fast, which is why i haven't told him, but I love him. That is why I was so willing to put my own life at risk if it meant saving his."

Luke smiled, "I'm so glad you're free from Caleb. Anyway, I guess you should head out. I just wanted you to know that." Luke wiped his cheeks before continuing, "Maybe one day we can all hang out and get to know more about each other. I have a feeling you will be around for a while."

Willie grinned raising his arms to bump wrists and he waved goodbye before skating down the street. He looked back seeing Alex had joined Luke at the bottom of the driveway and he waved before he decided to go to the beach.

Luke watched Willie poof away and he turned to Alex, "You two are so cute," he teased.

"Shut up. We're no better than you and Reggie," Alex said bumping shoulders. "What were you two talking about?"

"Why?" Luke asked with a grin, "Jealous?" He asked, wrapping his arms around Alex and bringing him in close.

"No, it just seemed like the two of you were crying," Alex pointed out.

"Maybe a little. I was just thanking him for making you happy." He said. Alex smiled at him before pulling him into a crushing hug. He tucked his head into Luke's neck.

"I love you, 'Lex." Luke said holding him tighter.

"I love you, Luke."

They heard the familiar pop and then groan as Reggie runs at them full force and tackles them into a hug.

"Group hug?" He asked, not giving them much of a choice.

"Always."

Luke kissed his cheek and then buried himself in the hug. That's where Julie finds them when she got home from school.

#julie and the phantoms #willex #alex mercer #willie jatp #luke patterson #reggie peters #julie molina #im back and this sucks so apologies

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andcontemplation · 4 years ago

Text

Old Friends, New Lives

Joyce Byers saw a ghost. Right there in the produce section of the supermarket.

Across the display of crated oranges, hovering over the bulk bins, Jim Hopper had caught her eye. She stopped in her tracks and gasped. It was clear by the shock written all over her face that she wasn’t expecting to see him.

“What are you doing here?”

The words tumbled out of her before she bit down on her bottom lip so hard, there was no way she didn’t taste blood, and her eyes went wide. She blinked once, twice, and gave her head a little shake. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing -- was it really him?

“Getting groceries for my mom,” Hopper gave a half shrug. “What does it look like?”

He waved the list at her as if to convince her that yes -- he was indeed real, and it wasn’t really a big deal. Not like she hadn’t seen him in just a smidge over two years.

843 days to be precise… not like either of them was keeping count.

A smirk tugged the corners of his mouth at the sight of her floundering above the mixed nuts, but he fought it. She was still so cute when she was flustered, and to be honest, he was enjoying making her squirm—just a bit.

Joyce just shook her head impatiently.

“No, I meant, what are you doing here? At home. We weren’t expecting you…”

Hopper glanced at his list and grabbed a box of oranges for his basket.

“I’m on R n’ R. Uncle Sam let me come home for a few weeks before my next tour.”

Joyce continued to shake her head, moving from impatience into disbelief. Or maybe hurt? Anger. Sadness.

She blinked back what looked like tears and nearly choked on her next words.

“And you didn’t think to call? Or write?”

“Well, I was going to…” Hopper shrugged again, wondering how much longer he could keep up this charade of not-giving-a-fuck. Then he reminded himself that he kinda had a reason to be distant and cold with her.

“So why didn’t you?” she asked.

Joyce shifted her weight, and even though he couldn’t see it, he knew she had her hands on her hips behind the display. He couldn’t meet her gaze, so he glanced around the store, at the walnuts on sale, at a young family passing by pushing their baby in a shopping cart. Looking anywhere but at her.

“Didn’t think it was right to hit up someone else old lady at Christmastime,” he muttered after a second.

Joyce sighed deeply, and it drew his attention back to her.

She was staring at him, in earnest or exasperation, he couldn’t tell. Her eyes drifted over him as if taking in his image just in case it was the last time she might see him again. It didn’t feel like much had changed since they’d seen each other last. Sure, his messy, dirty blonde mop was now cropped high and tight, and the old button-down flannel he’d got from his closet didn’t quite fit him like it used to just a few years ago back in high school. He’d bulked up from his time in the army and lost some of that boyish charm and innocence somewhere along the way to the jungles of Vietnam, and maybe she could see that too.

She was staring into his soul now. As much as he might’ve been hurt, she was hurt too, maybe even worse. If that was even possible.

“We’re still friends, Hop,” she said, finally.

“Are we?”

Joyce nodded, her cheeks flushed. She looked down for a long moment, and when she raised her head again, he swore she looked just a little bit guilty.

“Yeah,” she said. “We are.”

Then she stepped around the bulk bin, out from behind the crates of Christmas oranges and into the open where he could see now why she might feel guilty. Just a bit.

Hopper knew about the wedding. He didn’t know about this...

Joyce pushed her cart to the side and walked closer to him, fully aware it was his turn to stare now. Her left hand fell to her belly self-consciously, and Hopper didn’t know what hurt worse: the flash of a modest gold ring on her finger under the harsh fluorescent lights or the graceful swell of the child growing inside her.

She was glowing with her rosy cheeks, dark hair pulled up high in a bouncy ponytail, and a blue corduroy jumper dress that flattered in her condition. Motherhood looked surprisingly good on her, and Hopper struggled with the emotions bubbling up inside; that it wasn’t him who put her in the family way instead.

“Christ, look at you,” was all he managed to get out, his hardened exterior slowly starting to melt away.

Joyce heaved a sigh and leaned against the bins.

“Yeah.”

Hopper’s heart sank at the verbal confirmation that what he was seeing was the god awful truth. He cleared his throat and tried to talk over the lump forming there.

“I heard from Mom that you and Lonnie…”

He couldn’t finish. He didn’t want to think about the fact her new last name was now Byers.

“Yeah,” Joyce said again, looking sorry. “I wanted to tell you. I just… didn’t know how.”

Hopper just shook his head.

“How-- I mean… When are you… due?”

“Any day now.”

Hopper rocked back on his heels, searching for something more to say than abject stammering. The emotions were getting the best of him.

“He treating you good?”

“Yeah,” Joyce breathed, a happy grin creeping up on her lips. “Never thought I’d say that. But Lon’s been really sweet on me since he found out he’s gonna be a dad. It was even his idea to get hitched,” she said, trailing off, “I wanted to wait…”

Anger and jealousy won, and Hopper’s lip curled, despite himself.

“Didn’t wait very long, huh?”

He only sort of regretted saying it the second Joyce’s grin vanished.

“Well, good for Lonnie,” Hopper continued, trying his best not to sound too sarcastic. “Never pegged him for the marrying kind.”

The color disappeared from her cheeks then, too. Joyce set her jaw and glared.

“At least he stays true to his commitments. Unlike some people.”

Hopper rolled his eyes.

“Yes. Clearly, Lonnie knows where his priorities lie. Like sending his pregnant wife out to get groceries for Christmas dinner right when she’s about ready to pop.”

Joyce gripped her shopping cart and pulled it towards her in defiance.

“Well… a wife’s responsibility is running the house, you know.”

“Not when you’re as big as a house.”

Hopper realized what he said as it left his mouth, and he had never felt more regret in his twenty short years on Planet Earth.

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever happened to women’s lib?” Hopper tried to backpedal. “I thought you were all for getting women out of the house…”

“I am nine months pregnant, Jim Hopper--”

“I just meant you shouldn’t be on your feet right--”

But Joyce refused to hear him.

“I cannot believe you! That is the rudest--”

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

He cut her off, raising his voice, causing the nearby shoppers to stop and gawk at the trouble brewing next to a case of apples and oranges.

“You know what?” Her hand went up, and she leaned forward over her cart handle. “I’m going to stop you right there before I take out your knee caps using this shopping cart as my battering ram.”

Her eyebrows shot up as if she was telling him to try her. For a moment, he was actually scared of the five-foot-three mother-to-be -- she was absolutely Horrifying with a capital H when she was hormonal and angry. No Viet-Cong could send chills down his spine the way she just did.

Then, as if a switch was flipped, Joyce straightened up, looked at her wristwatch, and pressed her lips together, slowly pushing her cart away.

“It was really nice running into you, Jim, but you’ll have to excuse me. I suddenly have more important things to do… like pick out a ham.”

“Great!”

Hopper grabbed an apple and slammed it into his basket. He grabbed another and squeezed it, bruising the fruit as he watched her walk away.

“Excellent. Thanks for the catch-up. Let’s do this again sometime!” He called out after her, eliciting a few more concerned glances from passers-by.

She stopped at the next aisle, looked over her shoulder, and gave him an exaggerated eye roll and a dismissive wave.

“Have a nice life, Hop,” she muttered over her shoulder, just under her breath. Just loud enough so only he could hear her.

“Same to you, sweetheart,” he snarled, even though he was pretty sure only the bananas heard him that time.

A few moments later, Hopper was awkwardly standing in front of the bountiful display of yams and potatoes, his shopping basket at his feet, hoping Joyce would be done with the cereal soon -- where he needed to go next -- when he heard her cuss. Expecting it to be directed at him, he turned, ready to start the argument up again but instead, his blood ran cold.

Joyce was holding herself up against the Cheerios, clutching the shelf with white knuckles. Her face was twisted in pain.

Hopper left the basket at his feet and crossed the produce section to get to her as fast as possible.

“You okay?” he asked as he approached, worried.

“Yeah, fine.” Joyce waved him off through a grimace. She rubbed her belly and tried to convince the both of them. “It’s just a little cramp. I’ve had them all morning.”

“Joyce,” Hopper said, reaching for her as the cramp worsened.

“I’m fine!” She shouted, pulling her arm out of his grasp. The motion made her fall back into her cart, and Hopper caught her just in time before it rolled away on her.

“No,” he told her firmly. “You’re not!”

Joyce grimaced and whined and bore down through the pain.

“I- I think I’m…” she stammered before it happened.

Hopper stepped back just as her water hit the floor tiles with a sickening splash. Joyce looked up at him, stunned.

Oh shit.

“Okay,” he said, taking charge. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“The groceries…” Joyce said in a daze, reaching for her cart as Hopper was escorting out towards the store’s front.

Just like in combat, Private Hopper never skipped a beat under pressure. All sorts of pressure. Like navigating a minefield or getting his ex-girlfriend to the hospital to deliver his arch-enemy’s baby.

“Forget the groceries,” Hopper told her before he started asking the tough questions. “Where’s Lonnie?”

“I… I don’t know,” Joyce admitted as she waddled down the aisle, Hopper helping to hold her upright from behind. She let go of his hand she didn’t realize she was holding as the wave of pain started to subside.

“He’s not at home?” Hopper asked her. Why was he even surprised?

“He said he was going to visit a friend last night, but he didn’t come home.”

“Of course he didn’t,” Hopper snorted.

As they turned the corner towards the front doors, they passed an unavoidable crowd -- the checkout lines were full of onlookers.

“Hey buddy, clean up on aisle three,” Hopper said to the nearest bag boy.

Everyone at the checkout lanes stopped what they were doing and stared. Some, who knew the pair, whispered between them; others smirked but averted their gaze. The bag boy, who was all of fourteen, turned white as a sheet when he realized what was going on, but the kid quickly nodded, opening the door for them out into the parking lot.

“Out of the way!” Hopper shouted to a group of smoking, loitering teens, and they scattered at the foreboding sight of the pregnant lady going into labor.

“Where’s your car?” Hopper asked Joyce.

She stopped to catch her breath.

“There.”

She pointed at her mom’s beat-up old Ford Galaxie in the expectant-mothers stall and handed him the keys from her purse.

He opened the passenger door for her and all but pushed her in. If she hesitated any more, it might’ve looked like a kidnapping to any other bystanders.

“Do you need anything from home?” he asked as he climbed into the driver’s side. “Or do you want to go straight to the hospital? Joyce?”

She had a distant look on her face, and all the color drained from it in a split second. She was going into shock.

“Joyce!” Hopper barked like he was trying to get a new Private’s attention. “Answer me!”

“I’m fine! I’m fine.” She snapped out of it and moaned. Clutching her stomach, she closed her eyes. “Just take me to hospital. Please hurry.”

He did as he was told, and it didn’t take them long to get there. The Galaxie practically floated down Main street towards Hawkins Memorial on what was left of the suspension. Hopper drove the big pink boat like it was a Ferrari, weaving in and out of the wintery mid-day traffic, and silently practiced what he’d say if they got pulled over. But by the grace of god, they never did.

He got her to the Emergency Room in record time, leaving the car parked and running at the entrance. An orderly helped him bring Joyce to intake, and Hopper helped her answer questions through another wicked contraction. Then, as he got her comfortable in one of the waiting room chairs, with the assurance that it wouldn’t be long now, Hopper got the feeling like maybe he had done all he could, or should...

He would park her car, call a cab to take him back to the supermarket, finish up his mother’s shopping, and go home. His job here was done. Yet he couldn’t help himself when he asked aloud:

“Do you want me to stay?”

Joyce’s eyes were red, rimmed with tears as she tried not to cry while she contemplated his question. It felt like forever before she shook her head.

“No…”

Hopper nodded slowly but took the answer quickly, half expecting it. He squeezed her arm and stood up to go.

“Wait,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Can you find Lonnie? Please?” she asked. “Call Norm Brown. 0465. Or maybe Tony’s? He’s at 3112. Or was it 3113? Shit. I can’t remember…” Joyce wracked her brain for the phone numbers to give him, looking panicked, sucking in shallower and shallower breaths. She was starting to hyperventilate.

“Hey, breathe…” Hopper said, crouching in front of her, getting her to slow down. “Just breathe. I’ll find him for you, okay? I promise. What about your mom? Want me to call her too?”

Joyce focused on her breath, speaking between long inhales and exhales.

“She’s not here. Taking care of aunt Darlene. It’s just Lonnie. And me right now.”

When her breathing evened out, he caught her eye, giving her one last reassurance.

“I’ll find him. Don’t worry your pretty little head… Mom.”

Joyce laughed at the absurdity of the new name on her.

“This is actually happening, isn’t it?” A couple tears ran down her face, and Hopper caught them with his thumb before they got too far down her cheeks.

“Yup.”

“I’m not just dreaming this?” she sputtered, followed by another short giggle.

Hopper forced a smile, even though he knew it was tinged with sadness.

“Nope.”

It looked like Joyce was about to say something more when a matronly grey-haired nurse with a wheelchair interrupted, killing the moment.

“Missus Byers? We can take you in now. Does Dad want to come in too?

Hopper stood up and let go of her hand, practically recoiling.

“Oh, no. No. No… I’m not…”

The older nurse frowned.

“Oh.”

Joyce smiled awkwardly.

“He’s just an old friend.”

“A close friend of the family,” Hopper added.

The nurse raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, whatever you kids wanna call it,” she said, then turned to Joyce. “Are you ready?”

Joyce closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Yes,” she said to the nurse. As Hopper helped her into the wheelchair, she reached for him one last time.

“Find him for me, Hop?”

“I will. Hey,” Hopper locked eyes with her and then leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Thanks.” She whispered back, squeezed his hand, her fingers lacing with his for a brief moment in time.

Hopper swiftly kissed the top of her head as he stood up to go. Then, he watched her get wheeled off beyond the swinging double doors and into the next stage of her life while he stayed firmly planted in their old one.

When Hopper had parked her car and left her keys with hospital reception, he found a payphone and called the numbers Joyce had given him. One was no answer. The others said they’d pass along the message to Byers, which was good enough for now.

Then Hopper called a cab to go back to the supermarket, but he could barely focus. He grabbed the essentials from what he remembered from his mom’s list, lost somewhere along the way to the hospital, and then went home in a daze himself.

He wondered how it was they got to this point -- former best friends, lovers, now perfect strangers in each other’s lives, except for those few moments in between when it was only them and whatever trouble they’d found themselves in. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend the merry-go-round of misunderstandings and his-and-her mistakes in life that brought them here. Any sane person would say it was time to let go, move on.

Was a friendship even salvageable after all they’d been through? She seemed to think so, briefly before he ruined it with his bad attitude.

Later that evening, Hopper tried to get comfortable and get some sleep, something he was sorely lacking since jetting halfway around the world only a few days prior -- he was still on Saigon time. But he could only toss and turn, thinking about Joyce. Worried that Lonnie might still be MIA, and she’d be all alone, he got up, grabbed the bouquet of lilies he’d brought home for his mom from the airport out of the crystal vase off the dining room table, tied it up with some ribbon he found under the Christmas tree and drove back to the hospital.

He wasn’t entirely sure what his plan was when he got there. He just had the urge to see Joyce again, one more time, and tell her it’d be okay.

But when he walked through the front entrance to the Maternity ward, Lonnie was there in the waiting room just beyond the intake desk, smoking a cigar with a few buddies, looking like they’d just finished up a shift at the bar. The sight of the other man was enough to stop Hopper dead in his tracks. The last few times they had interacted ended in fisticuffs, and Hopper knew better than to engage, especially tonight. Lonnie might’ve been an asshole, but it was still his first kid. He had a right to be happy and celebrate, without anyone shitting on his parade or stirring up trouble.

Hopper doubled back to the pretty red-headed nurse at the front desk and handed her the flowers, interrupting the paperwork she was shuffling through.

“Give these to Baby Byers. Tell the family congratulations for me.”

The young nurse nodded and smiled sweetly at Hopper as he turned to go.

“Oh, but there’s no card,” she said after him. “Who should I say they’re from?”

Hopper shrugged.

“Just an old friend.”

#For Anon #Jopper #Oneshot #joyce byers #jim hopper #fanfiction #drabble #?

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anxious-logic · 4 years ago

Text

Getting to Know You

@tsshipmonth2020 (I hope it’s okay that I tag you even though September is over!!)

Day 23 - At a certain age you switch bodies with your soulmate for 24 hours.

Ship: Romantic Analogicality (platonic Prinxiety hijacked it)

Warnings: Don’t think there are any.

Word count: 1919 (better than 2020 amirite)

Summary: When Virgil woke up on the day of his eighteenth birthday, he wasn’t sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t to find another person in bed with him.

(He’s very glad to realize that it’s just a dog.)

When Virgil woke up on the day of his eighteenth birthday, he (they? No, he right now) wasn’t sure what to expect.

He’d written out a detailed schedule of what his day was like – no meetups with friends, a very small birthday celebration with immediate family (that his possible soulmate could opt out of, if they wanted). If he didn’t switch with a soulmate, he’d probably text some of his friends and spend some time with them, but he didn’t want to overwhelm his soulmate by having too many social events in a body and possibly town that they weren’t familiar with.

So when he woke up on his birthday, the first thing he registered was that he wasn’t alone in bed.

He stiffened – who was in bed with him? Why? Did he switch with his soulmate? Would Virgil have to have a very uncomfortable conversation with the person next to him?

Suddenly, he felt something cold and wet bump his face. He opened his eyes to come very close to a dog’s nose. He relaxed as the weight in his bed shifted as the large brown dog excitedly licked his face, putting its front paws on top of his chest.

“Hi,” he said, an unfamiliar smile spreading across his face. “What’s your name, huh? How are you?” He was a little startled by the voice coming out of his mouth, forgetting that he wasn’t in his normal body.

He was startled by an alarm going off on his phone. It was some peppy music – something pop, maybe? Virgil wasn’t really sure. He picked up the phone to turn off the alarm, interested in learning more about his soulmate. He felt vaguely guilty about going through another person’s things without their permission, but it was a commonly known thing that once you turned eighteen you had to be ready to switch at any time; you had to accept that someone else would see into your life and essentially be you for a day. It was probably okay that he was looking at his soulmate’s lock screen.

His soulmate’s lock screen was a picture of kittens and puppies piled on top of each other, sleeping. Virgil couldn’t help the tiny smile that spread across his face when he saw the picture. It was cute – a little bit cliché, maybe, but cute.

He was startled out of his thoughts by someone knocking on the door. “Pat?” a voice asked as Virgil sat up ramrod straight, startled. “You okay? Normally you’ve fed Rosie by now.”

Virgil opened his mouth to respond and paused. He wasn’t sure exactly how much this person knew about Patton, or how close they were; maybe they were a total stranger or something.

Then Virgil thought about what the other person had said. If Pat and this other person were complete strangers, the other person probably wouldn’t be commenting on Pat’s daily routine.

“Uh- this isn’t Pat,” Virgil called, hoping the sound would be heard through the door.

“What?”

There was a pause, then a high-pitched squeal.

“Oh my god, you’re his soulmate!!”

Virgil got up and self-consciously opened the door, the phone in his hand. “Yeah. Um- do you know the passcode to his phone? I want to text myself and get to know him.”

The other person was wearing a white t-shirt and red pajama shorts. They were beaming, rocking back and forth on their toes. “Give it here,” they demanded, grabbing the phone out of Virgil’s hand. They quickly tapped the screen, unlocking the phone and opening the messaging app. “Here you go,” they said, handing the phone back. Virgil took it, absently putting a hand on the door to close it. “My name’s Roman,” they said, interrupting Virgil in the middle of thinking about what his first text to his soulmate would be. “He/him pronouns. I’m Patton’s brother, and roommate.”

“Virgil, he right now, I guess his soulmate,” Virgil murmured back distractedly, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I see that your attention is divided at the moment. I can take care of Rosie for now, and we can talk more later.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said, looking up as he closed the door slightly. “Thanks.” It wasn’t that he didn’t like Roman; he was just very energetic and too happy for how early in the morning it was.

Virgil toyed with the phone case as he debated what to send. It was a light blue rubbery material, with little ears and paws to make it look like an owl. It matched the rest of Patton’s room – in varying shades of blue, with lots of light, fluffy pillows on the floor around the bed. There were lots of pictures around the room, and a few happy quotes taped to the walls.

He looked down to the app, tapping his phone number into the “New Message” box.

Hi Patton, this is Virgil, your soulmate.

He sent it off, then put the phone down, being careful that the screen didn’t turn off. Was that okay? What if it came off too strong? What if his soulmate hated him and didn’t want a soulmate at all and was angry that he had to be in another person’s body for a day and now Virgil was saying that he needed a soulmate and-

His panicked thoughts were cut off by the phone buzzing as a new message came in.

This is interesting, as I am not Patton and this is not my phone number. I am, however, messaging with another person named Patton, who is currently in my body.

Virgil’s breath caught as he read the message. If he was in Patton’s body… and Patton was in another person’s body… and this other person was in his body…

It must be a three-way soulbond. That was the only explanation.

Okay.

We must be in a three-way bond. Can you put us all in a group chat so we can all get to know each other maybe? No pressure or anything but I think it might be nice?

Hopefully that wasn’t too overbearing or demanding. He absentmindedly bit his thumb, noting on some level that Patton was wearing nail polish. He tried his hardest not to mess up the lilac color while still getting out some of his nervousness.

Of course. One moment.

Virgil took a deep breath, relaxing back into the wall as he pulled his legs up onto the bed with him. He waited for the group text to come through.

Patton, this is a group chat with Virgil, who is currently in your body.

The phone next to him dinged as the person in Virgil’s body sent a message to the chat.

Hi Virgil!! This is Patton, I use he/him pronouns!!

Virgil smiled slightly. I use he or they. He right now but that might change.

There was a brief pause, then another message came through.

My name is Logan. I am currently exploring different pronouns, but he/him is sufficient for the moment.

Virgil bit his lip, fingers quickly tapping at the keyboard. Let me know if you ever want to talk or want help with that, I’ve been there and it’s not too fun.

Thank you. I appreciate the offer.

Virgil smiled slightly as he read the next text – from Patton, this time. I’ve never been through that but I’m so proud of both of you for being yourselves and opening up!! <3

There was a short pause, then the phone vibrated again. I hope that’s okay that I sent a heart, I send them platonically to my friends all the time, but I know it’s a little different since we’re soulmates, so I can totally stop if you want!!

You’re fine, Virgil sent. It almost overlapped with Logan sending a message of affirmation as well.

<3 <3 Yay!!! <3 <3 <3 Patton sent. It made Virgil smile – Patton seemed so happy, so upbeat, a contrast to Virgil, whose emo aesthetic didn’t mesh too well with happiness, and Logan, who he didn’t know much about yet but seemed relatively no-nonsense and formal.

He was startled out of his thoughts by Roman knocking on the door. “Virgil? How are you doing?”

Virgil looked up to meet Roman’s eyes and noted the wickedly sharp eyeliner on his face. “Good. Turns out it’s a three-way bond, so another person’s in my body and Patton’s in theirs.”

Roman nodded slowly. “That sounds fun to navigate.” He hesitated. “I… actually haven’t had a soulmate switch yet. I’m almost twenty-five, so… I’m not sure if I will have a switch? Ever?”

Virgil shifted slightly awkwardly. “I’m… sorry? To hear that?” He offered. He wasn’t sure what the proper response should be in this situation – someone who was basically a stranger was telling him something intensely personal.

Roman gave him a small smile. “I’m just saying, I might not understand it, but I know Patton’s been looking forward to this since he turned eighteen. It’s been a bit since then, but he… I don’t know. He’s excited.”

Virgil ducked his head. “I… thanks. I guess. Yeah.”

Roman clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Tell you what. How about you get dressed, then we can go out and spend the day getting you caught up on Patton.”

Virgil nodded slowly. “I- I do want to keep texting them though?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t make you stop doing that.”

“Okay.”

There was a brief silence, then Virgil spoke up.

“Do you know where he keeps his things? I don’t want to see any stuff he wouldn’t want me to see- I guess?”

Roman made a silent “oh” face. “Of course,” he said. He entered the room, pulling open some of the drawers from the dresser. “Underwear in here, pants here, shirts here, socks next to the underwear, sweaters up here, and any accessories down here. If you feel like makeup or doing anything with your hair, let me know and I’ll show you where that is.” He paused for a moment. “If I may ask… what is your usual aesthetic in your own body?”

Virgil gave him a little smirk. “Emo,” he said.

Roman’s eyes went wide with amusement. “Oh, that is hilarious,” he said, laughing a little bit. “Patton is the softest, fluffiest person you will ever meet, I cannot believe he’s bonded to an emo of all things.”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I kinda guessed by the room.”

“Anyway,” Roman continued, “What I was saying is that you are welcome to… get as close as you can to your… typical aesthetic, I suppose. It may be difficult, I’m not sure if Patton even owns any colors darker than red, but… it’s worth a try.”

Virgil stopped his hand from reaching out to squeeze Roman’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

“I’ll leave you alone now,” Roman said.

“Thank you,” Virgil repeated, giving into his instinct to touch Patton’s brother as he grabbed his hand to pull him back. “For everything. I… really appreciate it.”

Roman grinned, squeezing his hand before releasing it. “Of course. It’s what Patton would want. And, of course, my naturally chivalrous nature also dictated that I should-“

“Oh hush,” Virgil laughed, pushing him out of the room. As he gently closed the door to Patton’s bedroom, he couldn’t help but keep smiling, a relatively new experience for him.

Roman seemed incredibly nice and supportive, especially for someone who appeared to be struggling with his soulmate status.

And his actual soulmates?

Well, they were already his whole world.

#ts virgil #ts logan #analogicality #ts fanfic #soulmate september #ts patton #ts roman #i can write sometimes

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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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