#was looking for something i could rewrite for a class assignment and stumbled upon this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoonbear · 3 years ago

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eyes for you

Despite his outwardly cold appearance, Watanabe Haruto is perhaps the sweetest boy in all of existence, and as you come to know him you realize your feelings for him may exceed friendship. What you don’t realize is just how romantically he means it when he tells you he only has eyes for you.

PAIRING : watanabe haruto x gn!reader

GENRES : fluff, crack, slight angst according to readers but i swear it’s worth it, high school au, strangers to friends to lovers au

WORD COUNT : 5,342

WARNINGS : profanity, this whole fic is kinda narrative in the beginning with only bits of dialogue until the end

PLAYLIST : be with me - treasure / ミズキリ- yuuri / darari - treasure / i love you (piano ver.) - treasure / daphné - amir / o sole mio - iz*one

TAGLIST : @soobin-chois @beomsun

A/N : hello!! this is a fic i had been writing in 2020 and decided to rewrite + add the ending LMAO but i love ruto sm and whoever’s reading this i rlly hope that this could bring a smile to your face! thank you sm to the loml jaymin simp alice (@hyuckworld @tyonfs @jayflrt @jaytendo @juunnies @jjacob @iinnie @shuaflix @chromekook @addysucks) for making my banner and for motivating + helping me in general! LMFAOO SORRY but ily liceypoo truly

WATANABE HARUTO FASCINATES YOU.

You can’t pinpoint what exactly it is about him that intrigues you so, whether it’s the way in which he shyly dips his head upon entering your Photography classroom, or the way he clasps his hands together in order to make his shaking fingers less apparent. Whatever it is, you know right at that moment that there’s something about his aura that draws you in, even as he stumbles over his words when he introduces himself as the new foreign exchange student from Japan. (You decide that maybe, just maybe, you find him a tiny bit cute.)

Your fascination with him only grows when he’s assigned to be your seat partner, Haruto greeting you with a slightly awkward but polite bow when he approaches you. When he settles in next to you, you can’t help but grin at the way he haphazardly adjusts his long legs under your shared desk, he himself letting out a small laugh at how his height plays against him in situations like these. It’s easy, genuine, and you can immediately tell he’s attempting to lighten the uncomfortable situation that comes from any two people meeting for the first time. You wholeheartedly do the same, managing brief introductions with him before the lesson starts. Still, the man is a bit of an enigma to you. His profile lingers in your mind even after you both part from the class, and your brain is left with a mess of questions, hoping to get to know him better.

Curiosity leads you to begin unconsciously observing him over the next few weeks, catching onto his small tendencies such as his way of scrunching up his lips when he’s concentrating. It’s endearing, his little pouts and the way he looks up at the ceiling when he ponders on an answer, often fiddling with his pencil as well. Although you’d never admit it out loud, you develop a particular fondness for his tendency to play with the back of his ear when he’s nervous, a characteristic of his that’s normally accompanied by flushed cheeks and a cute flash of teeth.

Alongside the little habits of his you pick up on, however, one of the main things you notice by being in his company so often is how extremely quick your classmates are to shun him simply for being so new, so different from them. It’s baffling, to say the least, how they avoid his gaze when he attempts to make eye contact, or how they pretend like they can’t hear him when he asks a question. You often find yourself carried away by the sheer frustration of it all, finding the need to defend Haruto whenever you notice your classmates purposefully ignoring him.

"He’s not invisible, you know,” you tell your classmate when she bumps into Haruto and says nothing. She nods briefly in response, throwing Haruto a mumbled “sorry” before hastily running off.

“Thanks,” Haruto whispers, shooting you a grateful look, but you can sense the lingering dejection behind his eyes—his eyes that eventually, you notice, can only stand to make contact with yours.

As furious as you are by this whole situation, there’s no denying that it also sparks a bit of pity in you, and perhaps that’s especially why you strive to strike up a conversation with him. However, the boy still intimidates you just a little bit. After all, the only comfortable conversations you’ve had with him are about your class, often involving a borrowed pencil or shared answers. You often consider how you can hold a lengthy conversation with him on a topic other than school, but you always come up blank.

When your teacher begins to introduce the first project for your Photography class, in addition to writing its due date on the board, you hear a quiet groan from beside you.

“That is not enough time for a whole portfolio,” Haruto grumbles, and you can tell in the way he leans towards you that he’s talking to you. “My ideas are definitely gonna suck ass.”

“I’m convinced she just wants us to fail at this point,” you respond, to which Haruto laughs quietly. The bell rings almost immediately after, and you impulsively catch Haruto’s arm as he begins to stand up. “Do—do you maybe wanna meet up to work on the project? We could help each other out.” You shrink up slightly at the hastiness of your question, expecting a blunt, or even cold response. What you don’t expect is the warm smile breaking out on Haruto’s face, his eyes sparkling in a way that nearly knocks you off your feet.

“For sure! Should we exchange numbers to work out the details?” You nod, matching him with a smile of your own, but you feel guilt creep into your conscience for being so quick to judge him from his tough appearance.

Your text messages with Haruto start out icebreaker-like, questions asked and answered on both ends in an effort to become more comfortable with each other. When he shows up for the project as promised, things are still slightly awkward, perhaps because you’re not online or in the school environment you both had become familiar with seeing each other in.

“So . . .” you start, trailing off as Haruto responds with a hum of acknowledgment. You can’t help but internally cringe at the pause that follows, deciding not to make eye contact with Haruto out of fear that you’ll become more nervous. Instead, you look around the park you two stand in. The embarrassment kicks in after, and you feel stupid looking around the park as if you don’t know the place like the back of your hand, as if you’re not the one who suggested meeting up here in the first place. Finally, Haruto fills the silence.

“It’s weird meeting like this, isn’t it?”

The breath you were holding comes out in a laugh, and you relax as you turn to face him. “I thought I was the only one thinking that.” Haruto grins at that, and from there you fall into your usual, easy conversation.

“The sky gets really nice around the time, so it’s great for the project. We could also take pictures of each other if it fits one of our themes,” you suggest, and Haruto’s eyes light up.

“In that case, you fit my theme perfectly.”

You allow Haruto to take pictures of you to satisfy his project, posing according to his instructions. He gives you bizarre guidelines for what expressions to make, supplying you with a variety of scenarios to imagine to “get you in the mood,” to which you ask, “Do you have these thoughts often?”

“I take pictures from my imagination,” he replies, shrugging comically, and you giggle.

The two of you are soon throwing in bits of conversation completely unrelated to your class, losing productivity the longer you talk. To say the two of you are beginning to get distracted is an understatement—by now, you’re snapping picture after picture of Haruto as he haphazardly attempts to climb one of the trees. You learn that he’s absolutely not one for balance, but he surprisingly manages to pull himself onto one of the branches after a few stumbles and much more laughter. You’re eventually taking selfies with him from the ground in which you catch him falling off the tree in what might be the most hilarious photo sequence you’ve ever taken. Haruto survives the fall, thankfully, and he can’t help but join in your chuckles.

“We should probably stop now,” you suggest in between gasps of air, Haruto himself still clutching the sides of his stomach.

“You’re right, we definitely won’t be getting anything more done,” he agrees, and you promise each other to meet up again and get more done the next time. (It isn’t until after Haruto leaves that you realize you’d spent nearly four hours with him.)

When the deadline for the portfolio passes and you receive your scores, you can’t help but feel dread settle in your stomach as you wonder whether it means the end of your growing friendship with Haruto. Now that you won’t have the constant excuse of the project, would you never meet outside of school again? However, you find yourself relieved when Haruto approaches you at your lunch table to discuss the project, which you both succeeded at with flying colors. You briefly compare your pictures, laughing as you come across the ones you’d taken of each other and recall the days you’d spent. Haruto never tells you what the theme of his project is and why he needed so many pictures of you for it, but you swear that you catch a glimpse of it scribbled on the cover of his portfolio. (Beautiful.)

You begin texting Haruto more often, and the awkward “did you understand the assignment?” texts turns into late-night musings over the most impulsive thoughts your brains would spit out. As you get to know him better, you find that Haruto’s messages in particular are often accompanied with long lines of emojis when he’s particularly passionate.

”Thoughts on sushi?” Haruto once texts you at 3:00 A.M., and you can’t help but laugh at the timing and spontaneity of it.

y/n: never had it actually

haruto: no fucking way

haruto: you have to try it i’m so serious

y/n: are u gonna make it for me 😚

haruto: think i’ll burn down the kitchen another day...but i’ll search up restaurants

haruto: i miss it so much

haruto: i miss home

Your heart clenches at the last text, and you find yourself almost immediately peeking outside the door of your room to check if anyone is awake. Of course, no one is at this hour, so you tiptoe down to the kitchen to see if you have the ingredients. When you proudly show Haruto your creation the next day at lunch, you push away the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when he lets out a delighted gasp, his eyes tearing up. When he takes a bite of the sushi, his face breaks out in the largest smile you’d seen on him. He’s glowing, and it hits you with a wave of emotions that you chalk up to relief over him liking the food, because the idea of it being anything else is too scary for you to consider. (It occurs to you later that day that for the past month, you had been spending every lunch with him.)

At one lunch break, Haruto mentions a coffee shop he had recently discovered, where he invites you to hang out. The shop soon becomes a regular meeting place, the two of you discussing a wide variety of topics from your wish to pursue photography as a career to his hidden passion for track. You pretend not to notice your heart stuttering in your chest when you see the sparkle in his eyes as he describes the team he was on in Japan, and he tries to ignore his ears turning red on the several occasions in which your fingers touch his.

You begin to rely on each other, supporting each other at various events and offering encouragement as friends do. Haruto is there at every single one of your photography contests, and likewise you accompany him at tryouts after hours of convincing him to display his talent to the school’s track team. Indeed, you’re the first person he calls when he gets in, barely able to contain the squeal in his voice when he breaks the news to you.

The two of become accustomed with calling each other by nicknames, the name Ruto usually slipping from your mouth on impulse. (Eventually, though, you find yourself intentionally using it just to watch the way in which his eyes brighten and his lips turn up.) Haruto himself becomes incredibly fond of teasing you, constantly making fun of the little things you do and possessing a knack for making you laugh at exactly the right moments. And of course, eating sushi together becomes one of your favorite shared activities.

You’re not sure when it is exactly, but your friendship soon takes a more intimate turn. You grow closer to each other in ways you might not have been before, and multiple times you find yourself wondering why it is that Haruto makes your heart flutter differently from that of other friendships.

You notice it the day he leads his team to victory in their first major relay race, when you shriek, “That’s my best friend!” in delight and run all the way down to the track straight into his embrace. “Oh my god, you did it!”

Haruto’s arms wrap around you instantly, and as he spins you in the air you can only hear the sound of his laugh and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. When he finally sets you down, you have to convince yourself that the running is the only reason your heart’s racing, and that it definitely is not because Haruto’s looking at you like you hold the entire galaxy in your eyes, like he would fly to the moon and back if you asked him to.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. “I didn’t do anything.”

Haruto shakes his head, his grip on your waist tightening in the slightest. “You did. I definitely wouldn’t have joined the team if you didn’t drag me to tryouts. So, thank you.” He gives you one of his most dazzling smiles as he leans in to hug you again. You’re left with the feeling of your stomach turning, jumbled in a way you can only compare to the lens of a camera going in and out of focus.

Over time you realize that there’s more than simply the blurry-lens confusion, that there’s also a strong gratitude you feel towards him. You feel it particularly at the times that you call him late at night, usually out of overwhelming feelings of stress or a simple need to talk. Whether he was previously asleep or not, Haruto always picks up, and somehow despite your nearly incoherent rants, he understands you perfectly—he always does. He patiently listens to all of your troubles until you’re out of breath, and by the end of it, he routinely asks you to promise him that you’ll keep calling him whenever you feel this way. He continues to surprise you with his methods of calming you down, sometimes turning on his video camera so his words can more sincerely reach you, and other times singing to you, his low, baritone voice instantly soothing you to sleep. (He tries not to let any awkward stutter show in his voice each time you praise it. Singing embarrasses Haruto, but he does it over and over for you.)

Haruto has a way of communicating his feelings more strongly through his actions than his words, and it touches your heart in a way you’d never experienced. He takes to clinging to you when the two of you walk through the school halls, often gripping your arm so that he doesn’t lose sight of you in the huge mass of students. Other times, he squeezes your hand as a silent form of encouragement, and the simple gesture means more to you than you could ever tell him. On one particular night at your house, he opens up to you regarding his homesickness and you almost immediately embrace him.

“I know it’s hard being away from home, and I’m sure they’re thinking of you a lot too,” you console him, feeling him nestle further into your shoulder in response. He sniffles, trying to make the sound subtle but your heart cracks when you realize he’s crying.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, but you shake your head and tighten your hold.

“Don’t apologize, I’m glad you told me. I’m here for you, okay? I'm sorry I can’t do much, but I’ll make you sushi tomorrow.” You stroke his hair carefully as he cries into your shoulder. In between little hiccups, he recounts whatever he can about Japan to you and what he misses. You avidly listen, holding him in your arms for nearly a full hour.

When Haruto calms down enough to stop shaking, he pulls away from you, enough so he can face you but not enough for you to let go. You can’t help but marvel at how he still looks gorgeous despite the remains of tears streaking his face, and you briefly wonder how someone can be such a pretty crier. However, all thoughts fly out of your head the moment Haruto musters the courage to lock eyes with you. Your breath hitches, caught off-guard by the emotion in his expression that you can only describe as pure, unadulterated sincerity. He says nothing, only leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. Haruto is truly a man of action, and the warmth of the kiss tells you more than words need to. He’s thanking you—for listening to him, for supporting him, for everything, really.

The heart-pounding exhilaration combined with the deep comfort and respect you feel for Haruto only confuses you further, and you spend many nights lying in bed contemplating what it all means. Most importantly, if it is what you think it could be, how in the world are you supposed to tell him?

You figure that it’s best to wait, that he probably can’t use another distraction in his life, especially with his increased popularity among your schoolmates for his remarkably stunning performances on the track team. A part of you feels irritated by it, at how the very same people who initially refused to even look at him grew to claim to be his number one supporter. But Haruto never fails to notice your annoyance, nor does he ever fall short on teasing you for it, poking at you and asking if it makes you jealous.

“Aw, come on, don’t be mad. You know I only have eyes for you,” he would frequently say, nudging your shoulder as he’d flash his signature mischievous grin. Of course, it never fails to make you smile, nor does it fail to spike your heart rate, although the latter is something you choose to address later at night with the rest of the confusing feelings.

Watanabe Haruto fascinates you, and despite you taking care to remember even the most trivial things about him, you somehow never realize just how genuinely he means that last sentence.

The sound of Haruto nearly stumbling on a crack in the road snaps you out of your thoughts. You whip your head towards him instantly, laughing at the sight of his one arm spread out for balance, the other linked with yours as his shoes jaggedly scrape against the pavement. You flush when you become aware of just how close you are to your destination, realizing that you’d been zoning out watching him. You’re well aware that it’s starting to become a problem—by now you’ve figured out that you very clearly harbor a crush on him, but lately you’ve been doubting yourself far too much, wondering whether it even is a good idea to confess and how you would do it if so. For now, you push these repeated questions aside to assist your friend so you don’t fall into another pensive spiral.

“Come on,” you tease, “you can do better than this, Ruto.”

“Hey! I wouldn’t be tripping over the road if you didn’t have me blindfolded in the first place,” Haruto insists with a frown.

“Just a little bit longer, I promise.”

A noise of frustration leaves Haruto’s throat, but you know he’s resigning in how he doesn’t complain any further. You squeeze his arm lightly to reassure him, knowing he’ll be patient for as long as you ask him to be but still not wanting to leave him in anticipation for too long.

“Be honest,” he calls out after a few moments of silence, “you first started talking to me because you felt bad for me, right?”

Your steps falter at the sudden question, your arms drooping in the slightest as you feel a pang in your chest from the hesitance of his tone. Still, you know that he deserves the most honest answer from you.

“I mean, part of me definitely felt that way, but I wouldn’t say it was the only reason. There was curiosity, anger, charm—I don’t know, I just don’t think there was one solid motive.”

“Anger?” Haruto questions, and you laugh a little as you feel his elbow nudge you.

“Not at you, obviously. I meant that I didn’t like everyone else ignoring you for being new when you weren’t so different from them after all. I didn’t want to treat you like that just from a first glance, so I decided to get to know you.” Haruto hums in response, and you resume walking, leading him carefully along the sidewalk.

“Wait, charm? Do you find me attractive?” He teases, lips stretched out into a playful grin. You immediately break into a series of jumbled protests, leaving your friend chuckling. You’re thankful that he can’t see your flustered features, which he normally would have incessantly teased you for.

“The point is,” you splutter, desperately trying to avoid the question, “you were never a pity friend to me.” You’re thankful Haruto doesn’t pry further, only nodding and leaning just a little bit into you. It’s then that you feel his slightly tensed shoulders, noticing the way his breath shakes when he inhales, and you realize that he’s insecure.

“Ruto?”

“Hmm?”

“You know that I never regretted it, right? Talking to you was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

“Me too,” Haruto whispers quietly. You’re taken aback by his words for a moment, as he’s normally not one to verbalize his feelings in such situations. Still, you smile.

“Good, then there’s no reason to be insecure, okay? I like spending time with you, and I like doing things together like this.” You rest your head against his shoulder as you say this, continuing to guide him through the streets. Suddenly, Haruto stops walking, reaching up to tug the blindfold off his eyes. You gasp at the ease of his motion.

“I thought I tied it better than that!”

“Fuck the blindfold. Let me guide you now,” he insists playfully as he steps behind you. “Come on, arms around my neck,” he instructs as he wraps an arm around your waist and tucks the other under your knees. Realizing what he’s about to do, you instantly shake your head, protesting as he begins lifting you up.

“You’ll drop me!” You joke, but Haruto only grins as he fully gathers you in his arms, and you throw your arms around his neck on instinct.

“Just tell me where to go, okay?”

“It’s not supposed to go this way!” You huff. “I should be the one taking you there, not vice versa.”

“Hey, it’ll still be a surprise! I don’t know this area that well anyways, I’ve only been here like twice.”

You sigh, about to protest again, but your train of thought momentarily freezes as you realize Haruto’s approaching the park you wanted to take him to. Haruto appears unaware of the location, however, and you look up at him expectantly. You realize from the shift in his eyes that he’s distracted and a little bit nervous. He stops in the middle of the grass, turning his head to look at you.

“I have to tell you something,” he blurts out, before you can even ask what he’s thinking of. He looks down at you, waiting for your acknowledgement. When you give it, he takes a deep breath. “I’m not going back to Japan this summer.”

Your eyes widen instantly. “How come? Did something go wrong?”

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Haruto shakes his head fervently. “I just—god, I don’t know how to say this.”

“Go on,” you prompt, finding it adorable how his ears begin to turn red as they always do when he’s nervous.

“You, this place—it’s become like my second home.” He says it with a touch of embarrassment but sincerity, gaining confidence with his next words. “I’ll still visit Japan, and I’ll probably still miss it. But whenever I did get homesick you helped me so much with it that I realized I want to stay here longer, that it’s worth it.” By now he’s leaning closer towards your face, eyes directly pinned on yours.

“I’m your second home?” You can’t stop the smile pulling at your lips, laughing with amazement. “I’ll make your stay worth it, I promise. Oh my god, you’re amazing.” Haruto blushes but doesn’t avert his eyes, and he’s close enough to you that out of a sheer burst of happiness you lean up and plant a kiss onto his cheek. His skin is surprisingly warm despite the low temperatures, and the heat spreads to your own face. Haruto is frozen when you look at him, and for a moment he simply gapes at you, his eyes slightly dazed. “Fuck,” you curse. “I shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry Ruto—.”

“Y/N,” Haruto cuts you off, instantly blocking your stream of words. “Shut up for a second.” He secures his grip on your lower back, lifting you higher in his arms so your breaths mingle. You only process what he’s about to do when he leans in enough for your noses to touch, your heart pounding with exhilaration. Your eyes fall shut, and Haruto takes it as a signal to connect his lips with yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, and you tighten your arms around his neck so you can match his lips. Haruto pulls away gently, but his lips still lightly graze your own as he whispers, “I like you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “What?” The word spills from your mouth faster than your brain can keep up, and you can feel your ears burning. “You’re kidding,” you add, although you know that Haruto isn’t one to joke in such situations. You knew there was a chance of him liking you back, but hearing the confirmation of it leaves you completely shocked.

“It’s about time I reciprocated the feeling, no?” He smiles at the way your eyes widen when you process his words. You can’t help but stare at him in stunned silence for a moment before you find your tongue.

“Reciprocated? You know?”

“That you like me? I’m not stupid, you know. It just took me a little longer to realize that I felt the same.” Haruto says the last part gently, turning away in the hopes that you’ll miss the pretty blush spreading over his cheeks, although he’s just a little too late. Haruto straightens so that he’s no longer face-to-face with you, desperately avoiding your gaze.

“No fucking way,” you breathe. WIth a burst of confidence, you use your grip around his neck to pull his face back down to yours. However, with Haruto still carrying you bridal-style, your combined weights causes him to stumble over his feet. You crash to the grass, screeching as you realize Haruto is about to land directly on top of you. Thankfully, he manages to plant his hands on either side of you, catching himself before that can happen.

“My god, you always had shit balance,” is the first thing you can think to say.

“Well maybe let me know the next time you pray on my downfall!” Haruto grumbles.

“You idiot, I was trying to kiss you!”

“Oh.”

You snicker at the innocence in the word, and Haruto laughs sheepishly. However, the expression on his face quickly switches to something more intimate, and as he lowers himself to his elbows you’re suddenly aware of the proximity of his body to yours. It’s like you’ve read each others’ minds, for the moment you hold his face in your hands he’s already diving in to kiss you again. When you separate from Haruto, met with his pure, fond gaze upon you, you feel as though the blurry-lens confusion has finally come into focus.

“You know, Ruto, I never answered your question before. I do find you attractive—I always have, and I don’t just mean your face. I love the way you get nervous, but also how expressive you are when you’re passionate. I love that you’ll always talk to me even if it’s four in the morning, I love eating sushi with you, and I love it so much when you sing. I’m not trying to steal your phrase or anything, but for this past year, I really have only had eyes for you. And it seems like I’ve already made this obvious, but I really really like you, Watanabe Haruto.”

The post-embarrassment from your words is all worth it when you see Haruto break out into a huge smile despite him being a flushed mess. There’s a glimmer in his eyes again, one so beautiful that you think even the sun couldn’t dream of rivaling it.

“I have a suggestion,” he voices, and you smile encouragingly. The affection in his face shifts to a smug grin. “When I win my next relay race, you could say something other than ‘that’s my best friend.’”

You smirk, immediately knowing what he’s getting at. “Like boyfriend?”

Despite him being the one to hint at it, Haruto nearly chokes at the directness of your words. Still, he doesn’t oppose it, a hint of longing in his eyes. “I mean yeah, only—only if it’s okay with you.”

“Hmm,” you feign a thoughtful expression, and Haruto whines at your teasing. You giggle, giving in. “That would have a nice ring to it.”

“You think?” The genuine hope in Haruto’s tone makes you melt, and you nod immediately. Haruto beams at you like you’ve just given him the world, and you quickly place your hands on his shoulders, unsure if you’ll be able to stand anymore of it.

“Come on, walk around the park with me,” you urge, gently nudging him off you. Haruto obediently stands up from the grass, pulling you up with him. Finally, he takes a moment to process his surroundings, his eyes scanning the park with apprehension. The sky has darkened, but the streetlights illuminate the area just enough for him to recognize it as his mouth parts in a little gasp.

“No way, it’s the park we did the portfolio at! How long ago was that, like a year?”

“A year,” you affirm, finding it adorable the way Haruto wistfully observes the park. “It feels like it’s been forever, right?” A mumbled agreement barely leaves Haruto’s lips before he’s grabbing your hand to drag you around the area, his excitement comparable to that of a little child.

And somehow, things feel exactly the same as they always had between the two of you. Haruto still clumsily climbs the tree and he still nearly breaks his leg falling off it. You still laugh and poke fun at him the whole time. (The only difference, really, is that he openly calls you beautiful this time.)

Eventually, the two of you slow down to more lazy steps as you continue along the path surrounding the park. Haruto’s arm is casually circled around your waist, his gaze locked on you as he listens to you ramble. He’s so focused on you that he almost trips over the sidewalk again, to which you wonder whether he’ll look away from you at all.

“The stars are really pretty,” you test, jutting your head towards the space behind Haruto.

“Yeah, they are,” comes Haruto’s response, his eyes completely fixed on yours, and you raise your eyebrows.

“There’s like, barely two stars out right now. You didn’t even look over there,” you point out, the amused smile on your lips giving away that you’re not actually offended.

“Sorry,” Haruto chuckles, his eyes glimmering and tone softening with his next words, “you know I only have eyes for you.”

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thedamageofherdays · 3 years ago

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This week's (16-08-2021 - 22-08-2021) reading log is here. This week's reading log is super duper long and filled with lots of good things (my apologies for the long post, I really could not find a good spot to do a read more). I discovered some new favourites and re-read some old favourites and while I had an intense week personally at least the fics I read were absolutely phenomenal. I do recommend checking out the warnings as some fics are a bit heavier/angstier and you might wanna be prepared. Most of these fics are Stucky but there are a couple of other ships in between.

If you are looking for more fun and/or good things make sure to check out the @marveldisabilitycelebration as well to see all the awesome art, fics, meta, etcetera people created! And while I am mentioning events I am a mod for let me also just quickly mention that sign-ups for the @stuckygiftexchange are still open until the end of the month <3

Favourites are marked with a 🌻 Fics that are only available to AO3 users are marked with a 🔒 and Tumblr fics are marked with a 🍀

🌻 The Bends by dreamsinthewitchouse @dreamsinthewitchouse [Danbeau, side Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Memory is not a house you can just walk back into after finding the key you thought you’d lost. It’s a thing you wade into and out of, rewriting it as it rewrites you.

It’s not without its rewards, either - recovering a memory about Maria and Monica, about her life, feels better than socking a thousand bad guys in the face, better than all the photon blasts in the world.

Then again, realising there’s still memories she can’t access, even after all this time, feels like drowning in space.

Not the one out there - the one inside her.

🌻 Sweet & Salty by musette22 @musette22 [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Idiots in love. That's it. That's the fic.

When life gives you lemons by moonythejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 34k words, Explicit] (11/15 chapters)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

🍀 SamRhodey Tumblr Fic by ipoiledi [SamRhodey, ? words, Teen?]

“Wilson, this is Rhodey; Rhodey, Wilson,” Tony Stark says, and suddenly some six foot tall sexy guy is shoved right in front of Sam, and they both stumble a little, bumping into each other. This is a crowded party. “You guys have things in common, right?” Stark asks. “Uh, Army stuff. Talk about that. I hate wallflowers; stop wallflowering and talk to each other.”

Shorteralls by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 6k words, Explicit]

The first time Bucky ever saw Steve Rogers, he was struck by how Neanderthal-like his response was. It was immediately followed by a bout of mental scolding. The second time was just about the same. The third time, it was actually appropriate for Bucky to start a conversation with him, at which point he was determined to be the gentleman.

No such luck. Steve Rogers is, always has been and always will be, a relentless flirt. These days, Bucky's Neanderthal-ist feelings about Steve are consensual and highly appreciated. More so now that they're having a baby.

what the fuck are perfect places anyway by tigerlilycorinne [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Steve clears his throat and stands. “Well, I should head in. I might want to begin packing.”

Bucky stills. “You won’t,” he says, trying to sound commanding. It only comes out uncertain. “Don’t.”

Steve shakes his head. “Maybe not tonight,” he says, and Bucky knows they’ll be discussing this again soon.

“Then stay. Play… play cards with me or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows jump up, his mouth tugging up in another of his bemused smiles that do things to Bucky’s insides, but he drops his hand from the doorway and steps back into Bucky’s room. Somehow, Bucky feels as if he’s won—not the war, just the battle.

Steve won’t stay forever. But he’ll stay for cards.

Steve and Bucky, on the run after Civil War (with a few alterations to canon), are laying low in Wakanda. But they can’t stay there forever.

🌻 honestly thought i’d be dead by now, but what you can trust is that i need your touch by moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 105k words, Explicit]

Bucky is 37 years old; he’s unmarried, hasn’t had a Sub of his own, is definitely not ripped, comfortable at his job as an Advanced Practice RN at Brooklyn General ER, and just got his Five Years coin from AA.

Steve is 26 years old; he’s unmarried, his last and only Dom has Alzheimer's, he's worryingly muscular, uncomfortable in his job as the government’s poster Alpha for masculinity and strength, and worries more than he should about his BMI.

Unfortunately, Steve and Bucky meet initially in a not-cute moment. Bucky’s tired as shit thanks to the sudden alien invasion that shook New York and Steve is tired as shit because he hasn’t slept more than 20 minutes at a time in – well, since 1936, probably. Bucky’s Alpha instincts get irritated at the sudden presence of another "Alpha" into his territory and Steve’s suppressed submissive tendencies latch onto this grumpy bachelor Alpha and he only suppresses it further.

Bucky’s grumpiness and Steve’s duckling impressionism aside, both of them are a mess. But since both of them are a mess? Their messes seem to fit pretty well together.

Deep Sea Diving by Aida Ronan [Stucky, 5k words, Explicit]

Steve's wallowing in heat-related misery under a shade tree in Central Park when a man walks by in bright red booty shorts and a crop top. RIP Steve Rogers. It was nice knowing you.

honey, make this easy by steebadore [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

Bucky likes the way he looks. His silk button up with the tiny gold polka dots feels soft on his skin and is tailored perfectly; no pulling at his chest or belly. His hair falls in shiny dark waves and his skin is smooth and dewy. He looks expensive. He looks taken care of. He looks like Steve’s.

🌻 let's take it back to the start by howdoyousleep @howdoyousleep3 [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

How it all began.

This sleepwalking through my life. by barthelme [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

The internet is an interesting place and when Bucky came home (or, when he came to live with Steve), Steve did a lot of research. Apparently, it’s not safe to wake a sleepwalker. He assumes that waking a sleepwalker with traumatic dreams and PTSD is beyond just being frowned upon.

And he tells himself--has told himself--that this is safer for Bucky. That if he were to stop him and wake him up, that Bucky would be mortified to be slurping on his best friend’s cock. That all of the improvements he’s made would be lost, would be repressed, would be just--

They’d be back at square one.

So he lets Bucky do it.

🌻 the way i've been craving by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

"Lunch break at 12:30. My office. Hope you’re hungry…"

It’s the ellipsis that sends Bucky’s insides swimming warmly, his heart beating twice as fast against his ribs where he sits in class. Senator Rogers is concise, direct, to the point. Without an ellipsis this is lunch, this is a meeting. With it though?

This is a booty call.

nasty but classy by howdoyousleep [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

“No, you don’t have to know the purpose, that doesn’t matter. Nat showed me this challenge where couples drink a lot of wine and get drunk together but they can’t touch each other. And whoever touches the other first has to...has to give the other head.”

🌻 Put It on Repeat, It Stays the Same by giselleslash [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Steve and Bucky have a one night stand that turns into a friends with benefits situation. A weekend snowed in at Bucky’s apartment brings to light how much that really doesn’t suit either one of them.

Greetings to the New Brunette by victoria_p (musesfool) [Stucky, 10k words, General]

"You said he should have a hobby. That it would help."

"I meant, like, knitting or coin collecting. Motocross, if he was feeling antsy. A baby's not a hobby. It's lifetime commitment."

🌻 Rogers & Barnes: Partners by triedunture [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky have to pose as a couple for a mission. Nat insists it really is the only option. She's checked.

The complication: unbeknownst to even Natasha, Steve and Bucky's friendship has been rocky ever since Bucky confessed his tender feelings and Steve left him out in the cold. Can asexual, completely-in-love-with-his-angry-best-friend Steve complete the mission and win Bucky's heart?

(The answer is yes. Yay!)

this will be our year (took a long time to come) by biblionerd07 [Stucky, 4k words, General]

Bucky's therapist is worried he's using Steve as a crutch and wants him to try going on outings without Steve. It wouldn't be terrible, honestly, if Bucky could just manage to open his mouth and say something to Steve.

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) [Stucky, 8k words, Mature]

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

Start from the Beginning by Mumble_Bee [Stucky, 13k words, Explicit]

What about a sex pollen fic where the pollen-ed one doesn’t remember getting hit in the face with a sex flower, and wakes up midway through the depollenating?

Or: the one where Steve wakes up on his back with a stranger buried balls-deep in his ass.

Match by emphasisonem [Stucky, 4k words, Mature]

The situation’s actually kind of funny from the right perspective, Bucky thinks as he reads the message for what feels like the hundredth time. He’s finally matched with a hot, funny guy. Tall and broad and clean cut. An absolutely breathtaking smile. Bucky’s walking wet dream. And he’s good. They haven’t messaged on the app, but Bucky already knows him.

He knows him because Steve Rogers is an art history professor at his university. His art history professor.

Best friends and married since childhood by StuckySituation [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Inspired by @/peterssquill's post in tumblr: "bucky and steve got married on the playground when they were like eight and though neither of them would ever admit it to anyone, even each other, they still consider it official"

~♥~ ♥~ ♥~

“Natasha, stop trying to set me up with every woman you meet, I’m-”

“Too shy? Too scared?”

“No, I’m-”

“Too busy? You’re mostly retired these days, not a good excuse anymore.” Natasha smirks and then drawls: “Or just too gay?”

Steve flushes at that, even if isn’t true -- he’s bisexual, not gay. “Let it go, Nat, I’m not looking for anything. I’m already married, for fuck’s sake.”

Clearly not what she expected. “What.”

Steve grimaces. He didn’t mean to tell anyone that, ever.

“Sorry, can’t talk about it right now!” he says and jumps out of the plane.

Nobody Should Be Alone on a Holiday by emphasisonem [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

“So, um-” Bucky begins speaking again, pulling Steve from his less-than-work-appropriate thoughts. The brunet has shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks, and he’s shifting from one foot to the other as he smiles shyly. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” Steve grins, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky swallows deeply as one of his hands comes up to pull at the collar of his button-up, and Steve can’t help following the motion of his Adam’s apple.

“I was, uh-” Bucky continues- “That is, I heard you don’t have Thanksgiving plans?”

In which Bucky finds out that Steve's going to be alone on Thanksgiving and invites his coworker to spend the holiday with him.

🌻 It's Been A Long Season Through by thiccbuckybarnes @thiccbuckybarnesfic [Stucky, 49k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes is in desperate need of a change in scenery, which is why he makes the foolhardy decision to quit his job, leave his asshole of a fiance, pack up his life, and move to his grandfather’s old farm all within a single day.

He expects confusion, hardship, and maybe even failure. But love? He wasn’t expecting that.

Or, a Stucky Stardew Valley AU that nobody but me wanted and that’s ok.

oh, peach pit, where'd the hours go? by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 10k words, Explicit]

Can't see the forest for the trees.

Or, Steve learns that just because he and Bucky got their happily ever after, it doesn’t mean the past won’t come back to bite them.

I'll find my way by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 725 words, Teen]

Steve had watched Bucky fall, and nothing had been the same since.

AU-gust day 19: Daemons

special delivery by glim @glim [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

It's not that Steve's bad at taking care of himself when he gets sick; he just wishes he didn't have to all the time.

At least he can order most of what he needs online. That's some small comfort, that he can have soup and ice cream and everything else brought to his door.

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 8k words, Explicit]

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

🌻 Rock On! by millesable @marvelousescapism [Clintasha, 700 words, General]

“Hey, Romanoff!”

He lifted his hand, index finger and pinky finger raised, thumb out, all other fingers tucked. Their secret sign; their confession for the world to see, safe in the knowledge that the world wasn’t listening.

“Rock on!”

🌻 You Like the Way I Look by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

Bucky sidles up to him, hand boldly coming to rest on his chest. “What about you, big guy? Care for a dance?” Steve watches Bucky’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction, somehow already knowing he’s got Steve on the hook.

A decade out of the ice, Steve Rogers returns to New York. Reeling from a battle against the Chitauri, a night with the troublesome Bucky Barnes might be just what he needs.

Join the Rebellion by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 765 words, Teen]

Bucky knew he shouldn't be out after curfew, but he couldn't resist the urge. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew it was where he wanted to be.

AU-gust day 20: Dystopia

🔒 Five Days in December by mywingsareonwheels @mywingsareonwheels [Evanstan, 4k words, Teen]

“Shit shit shit shit...” muttered Chris to himself, glad that the sound of piped Christmas carols was drowning out his swearing amid the picture books. Most of the store was heaving even though it was Sunday, he’d been recognised at least three times, finding presents for all of his nieces and nephews was proving far more of a headache than expected, and he’d just sent a pile of copies of "Strictly No Elephants" tumbling off the bookshelf.

He scrambled about trying to pick them all up, and then dropped them again as someone bumped right into his backside. He lost his balance, caught himself against a bookcase, and a landslide of "Carter Is a Painter’s Cat" joined "Strictly No Elephants" on the floor. He yelped.

“Ah fuck, I’m so sorry… Chris!”

* * * * * * * * * *

London, December 2021. Amid cats, books, and the cold English drizzle, Chris finds everything he was hoping for and thought he would never have.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Reaching for Fire by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit]

Bucky has always felt a fire in his heart (and other body parts) when it came to his boss, Steve Rogers, but he's made sure to never feed those flames. When he finds out about Steve's second job, though, he's tempted to let that fire out.

i've been dreaming of a face like yours by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

Bucky is about to busy himself with making a small dinner for himself when he stops in his tracks at the figure drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smirking at him.

It’s Steve.

“Surprise, sweet boy,” he says before setting his cup down.

Or, PWP reunion sex

🌻 Somewhere, Under Your Skin by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 16k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes treats himself to a one-night stand after having a very bad no good day.

The sex is good--great, even. Might be the best sex of his life.

But Bucky wouldn’t have slept with the guy if he had known that he was going to continuously run into him every day for the next fucking month.

Or, a Big Grump Bucky has a hot one night stand with a college kid who is popping up everywhere in his everyday life and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Written for HYBB Bingo Square: Grumpy Bucky)

i've played heartstrings before but not in your key by thiccbuckybarnes [Stucky, 11k words, Explicit]

He glances down, seeing a folded couple of papers, before peering up at Bucky. The older man is biting his bottom lip, making it pretty and red. Steve wants to run his tongue across where his teeth are digging into his flesh.

"What's this?" Steve asks, setting his phone down, emails forgotten. Bucky shrugs and looks away.

"I dunno. You tell me, genius," he says, sounding bratty enough that it makes Steve's dick twitch in his pants. Jesus, there has to be something wrong with him.

Steve glances once more at Bucky, who now has his arms crossed against his chest and is pointedly not looking at Steve, before picking up the stack of folded papers. He opens them, seeing a collection of maybe five or six sheets of paper. His eyes immediately land on the list of familiar words with negative next to each one. -- Or, Steve Rogers is a jealous, possessive little shit that wants nothing more than to mark up his boyfriend and stake his claim. And Bucky knows it. (And he likes it.)

🌻 I'm Home (With You) by BonkyBornes @padfoot-and-the-marauders [Stucky, 2k words, General]

In any other circumstance, the apartment would've been perfect. But it was today, and the fact that he was here meant he wasn’t out searching. He knew they hadn’t had any leads for weeks and he knew Natasha was right; all three of them were exhausted and a break would do them good. It just felt wrong to Steve that he was comfortable while Bucky was still out there—somewhere. Probably cold. Probably hungry.

The knock came again. Sighing, Steve unwrapped his hand from the dog tags and remembered how to move. Cold wind and snow greeted him when he opened the door. The solitary figure was walking down the steps, collar popped against the chill.

“Did you need something?” he called.

The person stopped. They were still. And then they turned. *

Or, the Christmas Steve deserved after Winter Soldier.

The portrait by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 915 words, General]

Steve Rogers has a Gift. He can help people find their soulmates, all he needs is some art supplies, a quiet place, and eye contact.

AU-gust day 21: soulmates

Maybe A Muse by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 2k words, Mature]

When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude.

#my reading log #r's reading log #fic rec #stucky fic rec #fics recs #stucky #danbeau #samrhodey #longpost #long post #clintasha #evanstan

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years ago

Text

Rewrite the Stars

Day 7, Post #1 is by @adenei

Title: Rewrite the Stars

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron/Hermione (Romione)

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: PG

TW: Depiction of blood purity/discussion of prejudices against Muggleborns, Violence/Murder mentioned (but not graphic)

************

*This fic is inspired not only by the song, but also Anne and Philip's relationship in the movie The Greatest Showman.*

Summary: AU In a world where there’s no Voldemort, but blood purity is strictly enforced, Ron and Hermione must navigate their budding relationship, and all the trials and tribulations that come with it.

********************

“Are you sure this is alright?” Hermione asks as she smooths the front of her dress, checking for wrinkles for the fifth time in as many minutes.

“Yes, it’s fine! You look beautiful,” Ron assures her.

He places a warm, comforting hand on the small of her back as they enter the grandiose ballroom where the Auror department is hosting their annual dinner. A handful of Aurors are honored for their achievements, but over the years, it’s turned into an event for the upper classes and Purebloods.

Hermione knows she doesn’t belong here, amongst the men and women whose wealth and social status put them leagues ahead of anyone else, and it’s rare to receive an invitation to such an event even as a Halfblood. But as a Muggleborn, Hermione braces herself for an onslaught of jeers and slurs. If Ron wasn’t being honored for his success on a case he’d worked six months to solve, she wouldn’t be here at all.

Ron has always encouraged Hermione to follow her dreams, even during their Hogwarts days. Though they were sorted into different houses, the two shared many Prefect rounds together. Being named Head Boy and Girl also brought them closer together, where they began seeing each other in secret . Neither had intended to break things off upon graduation, but when Hermione received rejection after rejection for potential jobs within the Ministry, she pushed him away too.

There was a time years ago when she hoped to be working within the Magical Law Department with dreams of making the magical world a more accepting place for every witch and wizard, no matter their blood status. But those bright-eyed and bushy-tailed dreams have long since dissipated. The rules are archaic, and there’s no chance of overturning something so set in stone until there’s a new Minister of Magic who would be open to the possibility.

So, for now, Hermione tends to a job that gives her equal satisfaction. She teaches young Muggleborn students in a special school that she founded with the help of Professor McGonagall. Hermione earned her certification to teach the primary levels at University after graduating from Hogwarts, and now works with Professor McGonagall to teach those students between the ages of five and eleven how to prepare for the world they’ll enter when they’re old enough to go to Hogwarts. This is in addition to all of the regular courses that Muggle England expects them to study.

The prep school is what reconnected the pair, when Ron was assigned to work the case of an eight-year-old that disappeared last year. It was determined that the child was abducted by Fenrir Greyback and turned into a werewolf. Ron found the boy’s body deep in the Forest of Dean, where it was determined that Fenrir became too bloodthirsty on that particular hunt.

Hermione was distraught over the outcome and took comfort in Ron, who was equally shaken by the case. As the weeks following the case progressed, Hermione found herself spending more and more time with Ron. Slowly but surely, they found their way back to each other and had only just rekindled their relationship a couple of months ago.

Since their relationship still feels so new to Hermione, they’ve kept things quiet. But she knows how important tonight is for Ron, and she wants to be there for him. To support him the same way he supports her. Hermione knows he will be by her side through it all, and has assured her that no one will make any comments.

Ron leads them around the room, exchanging pleasantries and mingling with people Hermione’s only heard stories about. Thus far, everyone she’s encountered has been polite. They are about to make their way to their table when a voice calls out to them.

“Ron! There you are, dear! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Hermione turns to see a plump woman with hair the same shade of red as Ron’s. A man follows in her wake who peers at them through half-moon spectacles with the same cerulean eyes that she’s so familiar with, only they’re attached to a different face. They’re much colder than the warmth Ron’s eyes emit, and that’s when the dread begins to expand from the pit in her stomach.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were both attending tonight,” Ron attempts to hide the surprise as he greets his parents.

“And miss the opportunity to see our son receive an award for his hard work? Don’t be silly,” his father responds with a wave of his hand.

Hermione has yet to meet Ron’s parents. A chill crawls up her spine as they talk to their son as if he is standing by himself. Suddenly, all of Ron’s promises become emptier than the desk of her former student.

“Er, right. Mum, Dad, I’d like you to meet someone.” Ron gestures toward Hermione.

She can see his mouth moving, but no sound comes out, at least not that she hears. The blood drains from her ears, causing momentary deafness as she stands under the scrutinizing stares of his parents. Hermione holds her head high as his mother admonishes his choice of a date. There’s no empathy for them whatsoever.

“...What will everyone think? You come from a certain class of people, and we need to uphold our status. At least go for a Halfblood, darling.”

Years of following the mantra ‘hold your head high, don’t let it bother you, stay in your lane’ have still not prepared Hermione to endure this moment. She is a strong-willed woman, she fights for what is right, and she refuses to stand here and take this woman’s judgmental words all because of the family she was born into.

This is the exact reason why Hermione insisted on keeping their relationship private. Her feet move on their own accord as Hermione tears herself away from Ron’s side and weaves in and out of the clumps of people. She manages to find the visitor’s entrance and exits to the bustling streets of London. Refusing to cry, she rushes along the cobblestone sidewalk and down a deserted alleyway.

Hermione forces herself to forget the sound of Ron’s voice calling after her as she disapparates away from the Ministry of Magic. She finds herself in her classroom, staring at all the empty desks in front of her. Desks of students who would be forced to meet the same unfair limitations that she lives day to day. She feels so helpless, not knowing what to do in an effort to make their lives easier.

Looking down at the elegant maroon ball gown she’s still wearing, she feels dirty. This isn’t the life she’s meant for, no matter how many assurances Ron can give her. She doesn’t belong in his world. Thank goodness she keeps an extra outfit in her coat closet, which she rushes toward before shedding the expensive formalwear from her body.

Once she’s changed, Hermione sits down at her desk, staring at the piles of papers left to be graded. Ron insisted she leave them there so they could spend their weekend together. A heartbreaking realization enters her mind as she thinks of his name.

We can’t be together. This is never going to work.

It’s as if he knows that she’s thinking of him as the floo lights up and he stumbles out. Ron sheds his dress robes, leaving him in his starched white dress shirt and pressed black trousers. She refuses to look up even though she can feel his gaze boring into her as he stands at the head of her desk.

“Hermione.”

She says nothing because what is there to say?

“They’re small-minded people. What do you care what they think?”*

He reaches for her hand, but she tugs it away as she sits back in her chair.

“It’s not just them, Ron. You haven’t lived this life. You don’t know what I’ve been up against. You’ll never know what it feels like to be looked at the way your parents looked at me tonight. The way they spoke down about me to my face. I can’t—I can’t be subjected to that. The way people will look at us because we’re together. I don’t deserve to feel that way.”

Hermione stands up and exits the classroom, stepping into the abandoned hallway. She can’t do this anymore— it’s too painful. She’s learned to pick and choose her battles. It’s better to let people like the Weasleys think they’ve won while she keeps fighting on her own.

You know I want you, it’s not a secret I try to hide.

I know you want me, so don’t keep saying our hands are tied.

You claim it’s not in the cards, that fate is pulling you miles away and out of reach from me,

But you’re here in my heart, so who can stop me if I decide that you’re my destiny?

“Hermione, don’t do this. Please. I don’t care what they think. I want you, and nothing else matters.”

She stops and only turns her head slightly to see him leaning out of the doorway, his hand gripping the door jamb as he calls after her.

What if we rewrite the stars, say you were made to be mine

Nothing could keep us apart, you’d be the one I was meant to find.

It’s up to you, it’s up to me, no one can say what we get to be

So why don’t we rewrite the stars, maybe the world could be ours tonight.

“Please, love, don’t let them dictate what our life looks like.”

The desperation in Ron’s voice is what makes Hermione turn all the way around to face him. She begins to walk a few paces toward him before the voices in her head get a hold of her. He’d become an outcast if she stayed with him. She can’t let him risk everything he’s gained by choosing her.

You think it’s easy? You think I don’t want to run to you?

But there are mountains, and there are doors that we can’t walk through.

I know you’re wondering why because we’re able to be just you and me within these walls

But when we go outside you’re gonna wake up and see that it was hopeless after all.

“You know it’s not that easy. We can’t just run away from everything so we can be happy. Your family would never forgive you, or me for that matter! Everyone will do everything in their power to tear us apart. It’s not worth it.”

“So, what? You’re saying we’re not worth it?”

No one can rewrite the stars. How can you say you’ll be mine?

Everything keeps us apart, and I’m not the one you were meant to find.

It’s not up to you, it’s not up to me, when everyone tells us what we can be.

How can we rewrite the stars? Say that the world can be ours tonight.

Hermione reaches out and clasps his hands with her own. “No, you’re not listening to me. You’re worth so much to me that I have to let you go.”

“But what if I don’t want to let go?”

All I want is to fly with you.

All I want is to fall with you.

So just give me all of you.

It feels impossible (It’s not impossible).

Is it impossible? (Say that it’s possible.)

“I don’t want to let go, either, Ron, but I have to. You mean too much to me.”

She knows it’s better to be hurt on her own terms than to let someone else hurt her instead. Ron will see reason eventually. He has to. Hermione wraps her arms around him, tighter than ever before, putting all her feelings into one single embrace, hoping that he can understand.

How do we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine?

Nothing can keep us apart, cause you are the one I was meant to find.

It’s up to you and it’s up to me, no one can say what we get to be

And why don’t we rewrite the stars, changing the world to be ours…

There are many things she can change, but her blood status isn’t one. Above all else, she’s proud of being a Muggleborn, and she’ll keep teaching her students to be proud of their roots as well. She’ll keep her memories of Ron and how wonderful he is locked up tight as she finds a way to navigate this world without him. Hermione has made her decision as she kisses his cheek and lets go. Perhaps in another lifetime, they’ll be able to be together with nothing standing in their way.

You know I want you.

It’s not a secret I try to hide.

But I can’t have you.

We’re bound to break and our hands are tied.

“I’m sorry.”

Her voice leaves the faintest echo among the abandoned halls. Before she loses her nerve, she turns on the spot and apparates away, leaving the hurt look that is etched on Ron’s face burned into her mind as she leaves him alone.

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #ron x hermione #tw: blood purity #tw: prejudice #tw: violence (non graphic)#tw: murder (non graphic)

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littlemissaddict · 4 years ago

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7 Minutes in Heaven

Request: could you maybe do a reggie x reader where theyre playing spin the bottle/7 minutes in heaven? like not a smut but they do make out and it gets pretty heated?

Word count: 2724

A/n: I’m sorry this took so long to write, I had to rewrite it a couple of times because I didn’t like how it was turning out and I’m still not 100% happy with it but I hope you like it.

The sound of a book hitting the table by her head is what broke her from her daze as she stared blankly at the textbook in front of her. Blinking a couple of times to refocus her vision she turned to see the person responsible for the noise.

"It's Friday night what are you doing in the library?" Rose questioned, her hand rested on her hip the other one on the table beside y/n as she raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm getting a head start on the assignment due for English next week" she stated as if it was obvious because the last thing she wanted to do was rush it and risk dropping her grade.

"Well we got a party to go to so that will have to wait" Rose responds, letting out an exasperated sigh when y/n shakes her head and goes back to her work. "Come on I promised Bobby we would go" she pleads sitting down on the empty seat next to her.

"Just because I'm not going doesn't mean you can't" y/n mumbled not looking away from the textbook she was using for research.

"But Reggie’s going to be there," Rose says in a singsong voice with a sly smile on her face which turns into a giggle when she sees y/n's hands still against the pages and hears her breath catch.

It had been about two year since Rose and Bobby had met during one of their shared college classes and he was always inviting her to parties which she ended up dragging y/n along too so it wasn't long before she had introduced y/n to Bobby’s best friends and bandmates. Ever since then y/n had been completely gone for the bassist and Rose knew that she could get her to do anything if it involved Reggie.

"You can't keep using him against me" she groans, turning to face Rose, a small pout on her face.

"So does that mean you're coming?" Rose asks, letting out a cheer, which earns her a couple of glares from others in the library, when she confirms that she is. "Let's go!" She says rushing y/n who's struggling to fit her books and laptop back into her bag before she follows, both girls heading back to their shared dorm room.

Once they're back at the dorm, Rose connects her phone to the speaker to play music while they get ready as y/n goes straight to looking through her clothes for something to wear. She pulls out a couple of outfits but Rose shakes her head at them and even offers her one of her dresses but she declines as dresses never really were her thing.

"Wait what about them?" Rose exclaims excitedly, reaching for the trousers that she had been talked into buying on their last shopping trip. They were skin tight black faux leather and reminded her of the ones that Olivia Newton John wore at the end of Grease.

"I don't know" she says hesitantly until Rose hands her a black bardot crop top telling her that they would look killer with her favourite heeled boots "okay fine, so where's the party at" she asks, laying the clothes out on the bed before reaching for her make up.

"No idea, somewhere off campus but we're meeting Bobby and the guys in about an hour so we better hurry up" Rose tells her as she checks the time on her phone.

Both girls are just about ready when there's a knock at the door followed by Bobby's voice asking they're ready. Rose answers letting them know they'll be a couple more minutes and she hears a loud groan from the other side of the door as she adds the finishing touches to her makeup and Rose finishes off clearing the clothes that they had left out from earlier.

"Finally" Bobby exclaims as the two girls exit the room. Rose playfully slaps his arm telling him to behave and he rolls his eyes in response but the smile on his face lets her know that he's only playing.

The girls greet Bobby properly once he's finished teasing them and they hear a disgruntled Luke calling them from a little further down the hallway.

"Hey Bobby’s not the only one here" he calls as he pouts at them but it quickly disappears when they acknowledge them. Y/n's gaze drifts from Luke to Alex and then finally to Reggie, where she lets her gaze stay a little longer than she should and the boy definitely notices sending her a wink as she feels herself flush slightly under his gaze.

The group make their way out of the dorm building, Bobby and Rose taking the lead with Luke animatedly explaining something to Alex a couple of steps behind them which leaves her and Reggie at the back of the group. She notices that Reggie seems quieter than usual and she's not sure why but she brushes it off assuming it's because they're not that close so they don't really have a lot to talk about, although she doesn't miss the way that Reggie keeps glancing over at her before pulling his gaze away when she catches him.

It only takes about fifteen minutes of walking before they come to a street where the party must be as they can hear the music as soon as they turn onto it, which leaves her wondering how they haven't had any noise complaints yet from neighbours. Although she didn’t have long to ponder the thought as the group were making their way through the front door to the house and the boys disappeared as soon as they got there so the girls went to find themselves a drink.

“So what’s going on between you and Bobby?” she asks, taking the plastic cup from Rose after she finishes mixing the drink for her.

“What do you mean? There’s nothing going on” Rose says a little bit too defensively for there to be nothing between the two.

“Oh come on, the way you look at each other; how you always pair up with him whenever we do anything as a group; the way you act with each other. Would you like me to go on?” Y/n states with a raise of her eyebrow as she peers over the rim of the cup at her friend as she takes a sip.

“Okay maybe I do like him a little bit but I’m not sure he feels the same” Rose replies with a small sigh causing y/n to shake her head at the other girl.

“You’re joking right, have you seen the way her looks at you? I’m like 100% sure he’s in love with you” she says with a slight giggle at the look of shock that crosses Rose’s face.

“Okay, well what about you and Reggie?” Rose shoots back with an expectant look on her face as if she’s going to tell her something she doesn’t already know.

“Me and Reggie? The two of us together are nonexistent except in my mind. I mean did you see him on the walk over here he wouldn’t even speak to me and usually you can’t get the boy to be quiet” she chuckles, trying not to let on how much it pains her to admit it because at this point she’s sure the feelings she has for the boy in question are more than just a simple crush.

“Okay but he definitely likes you, did you see the way he stared when we left the dorm and he kept looking at you on the way over her” Rose points out and she lets out a chuckle leaving y/n confused until she adds “I just remembered that Bobby told me that whenever we’ve hung out as a group or even if Reggie sees you he will talk forever about you”

Y/n feels a blush spread across her cheeks at that and finds herself avoiding Rose’s gaze when she next speaks. “Alright enough about boys lets go and have fun” as they go in search of the others.

They don’t make it far before they come crashing into Luke who has a big smile on his face. “Ah just the girls I was looking for, would either of you be up for a game of seven minutes in heaven?” he asks.

“Um.. Who’s playing?” Rose asks as Y/n just raises her eyebrows at him.

Luke chuckles at their responses before he answers “I don’t know who most of them are we kind of just stumbled across and asked if we could join but Alex refused as he has Willie; Bobby claimed there was only one person he would want to play with” Luke said, aiming at a wink at Rose as he told her about Bobby “so it’s just me and Reg unless you want to join” he adds as he waits for their replies.

“You go, I’m going to go find Bobby” Rose smirks at her as she walks away in the direction that Luke pointed at leaving her to be pulled along by Luke.

Luke leads her upstairs to a room which turns out to be a bedroom where there are about seven people, including Reggie, sat in a circle. After they’ve joined the circle someone places an empty beer bottle in the middle and spins it, they all watch as it lands on the boy to her left. She lets out a quiet sigh, which only Luke seems to hear, when she sees that the bottle hasn’t landed on her as the two get up and make their way to what looks like a closet at the far side of the room that she missed upon entering the room. Someone sets a timer and conversation breaks out while they wait and Luke, who seems to know everyone, introduces her to the girl on his right as he chats excitedly about a small upcoming show the boys have which seems to interest the girl. However y/n gets distracted by the feeling that someone is staring at her and she turns to find Reggie’s gaze locked on her. She shoots him a questioning look and she watches as color flares on his cheeks when he realises he’s been caught but then the timer goes off before anything else can happen.

The two step out from the closest looking a little ruffled and as they sit down to join the game again, someone else leans forward to spin the bottle and everyone watches waiting for it to stop. This carries on for another couple of turns until it’s Reggie’s turn to spin the bottle and she holds her breath as they wait for it to come to a stop and when it does it lands directly between her and Luke.

“I guess you get to choose between the two” someone speaks up but she doesn’t catch who said it as she’s too busy looking at Reggie as color flares on his cheeks again.

“Sorry Luke but it’s gotta be y/n” he finally speaks up and can’t believe what's about to happen. She’s spent so long imagining this and it’s about to happen but she’s glad that Rose isn’t here because she would definitely bring it up.

Luke gasps dramatically, feigning hurt as he brings his hand up to his chest as he speaks “And here I thought we had something” he jokes getting a few laughs from the others in the room including Reggie and herself.

Reggie leads her into the closet and once the door shuts he goes still which leaves her feeling confused, although she’s not exactly sure what she was expecting to happen.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to” she tells him, reaching forward and blindly finding his hand which seems to male him jump so she goes to let go but he squeezes it tightly not letting her.

“No it’s not that, I want to it’s just I really like you and I don’t want to ruin this” he admits, his voice quiet and that’s when she realises that despite all his flirting and the confidence that radiates off of him, he’s just like everyone else, a little bit insecure.

“That’s not going to happen because I really like you too and I want this, I wouldn’t have agreed if I didn’t want to” she assures him and before she has a chance to take a breath Reggie crashes his lips against hers in a bruising kiss that she wasn’t expecting so it takes her a second to react but when she does she kisses him back with just as much passion as him.

Reggie lets go of her hand to rest his hands on her waist as he lets his fingers brush against the exposed skin there which makes her shiver. Whereas she trails her hands up his chest and over his shoulders until she can tangle her fingers into his perfectly styled hair and mess it up a little bit. He bites her bottom lip as she tugs on his hair which draws a gasp from her parted lips. Moving away from her lips, he traces gentle kisses down her jaw to her neck until he reaches the spot just below her ear where he grazes his teeth against the skin which makes her breath hitch and her finger tighten in his hair again and he groans into her neck but doesn’t stop his kisses which he begins trailing lower down her neck to her collar bones and she knows there will be marks for to cover in the morning.

She’s breathing heavily at this point as Reggie’s hands leave her waist, moving higher until there pushing under the edge of her top until he stops over her chest, palming the tender flesh over her bra and she can’t help the roll of her hips against his which causes him to stop his assault of kisses against her neck.

“Do that again” he asks as he lifts his head to kiss her properly again, moaning against her lips as she does. She does it one more time before a voice from the other side of the door is telling them that time is up. Reggie groans in frustration as he pulls away from her lips causing her to giggle.

“Do you wanna ditch the game and maybe get a drink?” he asks, pressing a quick kiss to her lips again when she agrees and they exit the closet. Reggie lets everyone know they’re leaving as the head for the door and down the stairs to the kitchen where they fill up their cups and then head into the garden where it’s a little bit quieter so they can talk.

“I’m sorry about messing up your hair” she giggles when she notices Reggie, running his hands through it to try and style it again.

“Don’t worry about it because if anyone should be sorry it should be me for marking up your neck” he says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he brings one of his hands up to trace the red marks on her collarbones which makes her shiver. “Are you cold?” he asks when he notices and he’s already pulling off his leather jacket and draping it over her shoulders before she has the chance to reply.

She thanks him as she runs her hands over the smooth leather against her body and she takes in the way his eyes run down her body. When he finally meets her eyes again his pupils are wide and he’s biting his lip “It’s a good look on you, you look ho- um you look good, really good” he rambles taking a step closer to her and glancing down to her lips.

“Do you wanna leave, we could head back to my room?” she suggests, as she feels her phone buzz in her pocket.

“You sure? What about Rose?” he asks, meeting her gaze again.

“Won’t be a problem, looks like she’s heading back with Bobby” she grins, showing him the message and letting out a yelp of surprise when he takes her hand and pulls her along with him back to the dorms.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #Reggie Peters #jatp reggie #reggie x reader #reggie x y/n #luke patterson #jatp luke #Alex Mercer #jatp alex #jatp bobby #original female character #seven minutes in heaven #college au #requested

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cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

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1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 7

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,142

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food, implied starts of anxiety attacks, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: whenever I reread this chapter I'm not sure whether the point of it is clear to the reader or not... but I'm not sure how to rewrite/fix it lol

...

Finally, it was Friday. Between classes, Virgil was pacing quickly down the hall when he noticed Logan exchanging things from his locker. He also saw Roman approaching the tall boy, adorning a mischievous smile. Virgil decided to slip out of sight behind the bustle of the hallway to observe their interaction, staying hidden near the walls.

Roman stood directly behind Logan and tapped him on the shoulder. Logan turned fully around, and upon seeing Roman, he opened his mouth to speak. He was quickly was interrupted, however, as Roman put his hand against the locker at Logan's side, and traced his other hand down Logan's button-up-covered chest. Logan was pinned against his open locker. Virgil couldn't make out the things Roman was saying to him, but Logan looked blatantly... caught off guard, to say the least. His pearly white cheeks were dusted pink. After a few moments, he pushed Roman aside and made to leave, but Roman grabbed him by the tie and pulled him back. They'd switched positions, Logan having put his pale bony arm out to stop himself from falling. Roman was still pulling his tie, smirking and looking into his eyes deviously. Virgil read Roman's lips and thought he saw "-if you're into that." Logan was clearly getting frustrated and forced his tie away, collecting his book bag from the floor and shooing Roman so that he could close his locker. Virgil saw Logan speak, and made out something like "I'll be late for class."

What a couple they made. Virgil felt something heavy growing in the pit of his stomach. Roman had left to go to his class as well, and the halls were becoming more and more empty as students filed into various classrooms. Finally the bell rang, and Virgil felt like he couldn't move to save his life. He started scratching his wrist and felt his breathing become uneven. No, not here, not now. He forced himself to breathe normally and made his way to his next class.

...

Later that day, Patton was lying on Virgil's bed, throwing a bouncy ball up and catching it in a slow rhythm. Virgil was seated at his desk right beside Patton, vaguely attempting to finish his French homework. Not like it'd be due until Monday anyway.

Patton and Virgil had been good friends from a young age, and usually hung out like this around twice a week. Every now and then they'd do something special, but usually it was just being together and talking.

Virgil knew a lot about Patton, more than most people do. He knew about his best friend's current... sticky home situation, and so he never questioned it when Patton came up to him later in the school day with a sorrowful glint in his eyes, asking if they could go back to Virgil's house that evening.

"Do you think they had a nice date yesterday?" Patton said after a minute or two of calm silence. Virgil looked over at him. He'd stopped throwing the ball, and was now inspecting its strange colorful surface, scratching at little flakes of plastic that hung off its seams. Virgil thought to himself how it was so strange that these types of bouncy balls always seemed to practically glow when exposed to light, even though they had no sparkles or shiny qualities about them.

"I guess I don't know. Roman might have ruined it with his overconfidence and ridiculous antics," Virgil finally replied, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. "Especially if he did something like take them to some 5-star family-owned Italian restaurant where you get kicked out unless you're wearing a waistcoat and you have to make a reservation a year in advance," he mused. Patton giggled a little.

"Yeah, that sounds like Mr. Prince," He offered a little quieter than he wanted to. Virgil eyed him with concern.

"You haven't really been thinking much of it, have you?" Virgil turned fully toward his bespectacled friend now, who was just staring blankly, clutching the bouncy ball to his chest. "I mean, I don't think it'll be much of a distraction to our project than Roman already is. And besides, I really doubt that Logan will go for a second round," Virgil dismissed the notion bitterly, and Patton wondered when Virgil had developed such a resentment against Roman.

"Well," Patton started, sitting up and pulling his legs into a criss-cross applesauce, "I'm surprised Logan wanted to in the first place. I don't think he has ever dated anyone, let alone someone so..."

"I know what you mean." Virgil got up to sit criss-cross applesauce with his friend on the bed. They looked at each other and giggled a little, remembering how they used to do this as little kids. They were just like brothers in a way.

Virgil noticed Patton pulling at his ring again, and knew something was up. "Hey," He said, taking Patton's hand. Patton looked up at him nervously from behind his big round glasses, his blonde curls hiding the top trims. "What's up?"

Patton made a noise that was something between a scoff and a sigh, looking away but not pulling away. "I just..." He thought for a long moment on how to begin what he wanted to say without saying what he didn't want to say... not yet, anyway. "I want Logan to be happy. He's a, good friend," A smile curled at the edges of his mouth. "I don't think Roman makes him... unhappy, per se. I think they could be really," Patton pulled his hand back and started fidgeting with his ring again, "close... but I don't know if, them being together will make Logan happy. W-will make either of them happy." He looked up at Virgil then, who was stoic. "I-I mean, i know it isn't really any of my business to worry about. I know I don't really know... anything about their date or..."

Virgil gave a somber smile. "I know what you mean. I feel it too. I mean, they don't seem to... clash correctly," Virgil meshed his fingers together as a visual metaphor. "They don't fit quite right into a relationship box together. And i don't think Roman is enamored with him in the way he says he is, or acts like he is." That bitter tone resurfaced in Virgil's voice again, and Patton took note of it.

He looked up, curls bouncing slightly. "What do you mean by that?" Virgil returned his eye contact, and Patton looked like he was hiding some emotion. Maybe... anger?

"Well..." Virgil thought about what he'd said. Specifically a certain song and a certain moment that had given him the notion that, as much as Roman acted confident, when he was truly falling for someone... he might act quite the opposite. Virgil felt his cheeks heat up, and Patton's expression changed.

"Is there something you know that i don't?" Patton pressed. Not maliciously, but curiosity dripped from his voice. Virgil brought his fingertips to his cheeks and wondered how they'd gotten so hot so quickly.

"Well, I, I just..." Virgil stuttered for a long moment. "I suppose it seems like, i don't know, like, maybe if Roman were really, um, that is to say, maybe, he would be, if he were really, you know, into someone, like that, like, um," He was talking with his hands too much, and Patton noticed his breathing becoming more like heaving. He took Virgil's frantic hands.

"Hey, take a sec," Patton's voice was coated in caramel. Virgil finally made eye contact again. "Breathe, bud," Patton said even calmer and sweeter this time. Virgil's attention suddenly switched to his breathing patterns, which he now noticed were getting rather erratic. He took a moment to reconcile himself.

"Sorry, I went off on a bit of a tangent there... but, as i was saying, or, trying to say," Virgil continued to stumble his way to his point, but with more purpose this time, "... Roman, strikes me as the type, to seem... like he wouldn't act the way he does with Logan if he were in love with him, maybe," He was fiddling with his own fingers now. "but i have a feeling that he might be... a bit of a softie. I mean, what i mean is, he... If he really likes someone I think he wouldn't be able to be his... y'know... confident, jock, witty-remark-shooting self. If that, makes any sense."

"huh," Patton said after a moment of consideration. "Well that's possible. I don't really know honestly. I haven't spent a lot of time with the guy, and whenever i do he always seems to be that same confident person. Well, except with you, sometimes."

"Huh? Me? What?" Virgil was blatantly alarmed. Patton hadn't meant to cause this alarm, so he replied gently.

"Oh, no no kiddo, i just mean like... Y'know how you two are always sorta, bickering or debating or poking fun at each other?" Virgil nodded. "Well, I've just noticed, that sometimes when you make certain comments or whatnot, he sort of... Loses himself. His persona. It kind of falls away, and he seems sort of lost for words." Virgil looked even more alarmed than before. "I-I don't mean that that's necessarily because of you, I just, it's just the only time i have seen him react in that way and... I don't know. It probably happens with him all the time when I'm not around. Or whatever. I don't know. I'm sorry." Patton spoke so quickly that Virgil hardly heard each word. He was just trying to calm himself. Was it so obvious?

"Well." Was all he could muster in reply.

"Anyhow, I think I agree, at least that something seems a little off... I hope it is anyw-" Virgil trained his eyes on Patton. "I mean- I, uh, I-I don't know where that came from! I don't hope, that- I don't hope anything bad for either of them! I didn't- I didn't think, I just-"

"You just have a crush on Logan?" Virgil was still staring at Patton, mischief peeking around the edges of his pupils.

"Wuh-- What!!!" Patton couldn't say anything else; he just grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved his face into it. Virgil heard an indignant "no I don't" from the pillow as he put his hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Patton, buddy. It's okay." Virgil just awkwardly patted the shoulder of Patton's balled up form.

"Does everyone know!?" He looked up finally, his nose running slightly. He wasn't crying, but even so, sometimes when he got emotional or embarrassed his cheeks turned deep rosy and his nose started running. Just another little quirk about him that Virgil always kept close to his heart.

"Well, it is plain as day," Virgil started while Patton's eyes seemed so somehow grow larger, "But Logan and Roman have no clue, as far as I can tell. Logan wouldn't know you liked him unless... well, unless you asked him on a date apparently," Virgil chuckled slightly, remembering the bizarre interaction between Roman and Logan on Monday. "And Roman is always too busy bothering Logan to pay attention to what you're doing," Virgil propped his chin up on one of his hands. "But objectively, it is pretty obvious."

Patton was deflated, blonde curls doing their best to bashfully cover his eyes now. He put his face back into the pillow on his lap. Virgil heard a muffled "I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry?" Virgil rubbed his back now.

"I don't know. I'm sorry to Logan mostly. And to myself." His shrunken form shook slightly. Virgil hoped he wouldn't start crying.

"Ohhhh come on," Virgil awkwardly attempted to comfort him. "No one knows, and besides, it's no big deal. You'll be alright. Most likely, nothing will happen, and you can just eventually move on with your life. And heck, maybe you'll get your chance with him."

Patton's curls shook again as he looked up, eyes the size of the moon. "You really think so????" He asked in earnest. clear snot streams ran down from his nostrils and over his lips now, and his whole face was like a tomato. Virgil laughed airily.

"...It's always possible," he said almost under his breath. He wondered if he was reassuring himself or Patton more.

They sat in silence for a short moment, Virgil shaking his slender fingers through his vibrant purple bangs. I should re-dye my hair soon. The roots are starting to show.

"Wanna get some ice cream?" Virgil asked eventually. Patton's eyes lit up.

"Yeah! Did your mom get Grasshopper Pie again??? I love that stuff so much!" They got up off Virgil's bed together to head down the hall to the stairs.

"Actually, my mom tried making some herself this time," Virgil shut his bedroom door behind them.

"Ooh, really!?!?! I'm so excited to try it then!" Patton squealed, overjoyed as a small child would be. It was as if all of his troubles had dissipated like seeds in the wind. Another thing Virgil admired about Patton.

He hoped everything would be okay.

#ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts patton #patton sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #high school AU #Thomas Sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #slow burn #prinxiety #logicality #logan x patton #roman x virgil

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