#miles teller divergent

[anaamaya]

Happy Birthday Miles Teller! 💙

[jetblack4realz]

forgiveness - peter hayes

summary - after a lifetime of letdowns from peter, you're unsuspecting of new loyalties

warnings - nah he's just a douche as per usual

word count - 3.6k

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peter hayes was no stranger to you.

you'd grown up together in candor, continued into dauntless, and went on the run to amity with tris, four, and caleb. in every one of those situations, peter was always on the wrong side.

so why didn't you expect it?

because every time you got thrown together by whoever it was pulling the strings of fate, he made impressive efforts to win you back. he was convincing and he was dedicated, and you loved him for it.

"hey beautiful," he mumbled, arms wrapping around your torso from behind. a small gasp slipped from your lips as you turned your head to see him. he pressed a kiss to your neck and you smiled.

"what are you doing, peter?" you asked with a small laugh, trying to push his arms away but he refused, instead pulling you closer into him.

"just missed you," he answered, pressing another kiss to the skin beneath your ear.

"are you off for the night or do you have more shifts?" you asked, the boy finally letting you turn around in his arms. you hated pda in the hallway, but something about him made you more inclined to let it happen. that and you hadn't seen a single person on this side of the compound on your way back to your apartment.

"i'm off," he answered, smiling down at you. "you?"

"free as can be," you told him, hands on his biceps.

"perfect," he mumbled with a smirk, leaning down to press his lips gently to yours. you obliged, kissing back with a soft smile at the care he took while kissing you. he pulled away. "can i stay with you tonight?"

you laughed. "when do you not?"

he grinned, keeping one arm around you as he began pulling you back to your place, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

"you're clingy, peter," you told the boy as he fished his spare key from his pocket and unlocked the door, letting you and himself in. he shut the door, locking it again, and immediately wrapping you up in his arms. your hands rested comfortably against his torso, smiling up at him. "i love it."

"i know," he grinned, winking at you as he leaned down to kiss you again.

he made it so easy to just believe him. it was easier to trust him again, you thought. he wouldn't do it again, so just trust him. he wouldn't do anything to hurt you - he would never. not again.

tris had made a point of using peter to get to the control room and you were left in charge of watching him as she found a way in.

he called your name three times before you finally turned, eyes set in disdain.

"you're helping them? seriously?" you asked him.

"they're the ones with the power, the ones who control the ladder i need to climb," he answered, a huff in his breath.

"and you think this is the way you're gonna do it? by helping them destroy abnegation?"

"if it needs to be done, then yes."

"and you seriously don't care that people are dying, that our friends are the ones killing them?"

he didn't answer you.

you walked away, eyes in the direction of the control room listening for any signs that tris might be in trouble. you heard a lot of movement and suddenly yells of fear and you were moving. but before you could even exit the alcove you'd hidden in, two arms wrapped around you and pulled you back in.

"get off of me!" you yelled, slamming your heel into his foot. he grunted, his grip loosening enough for you to pull forward. but he was quick, hand on your bicep as he ripped you back, the force enough to knock you to the ground. your gun clattered to the floor, both of you lunging for it.

unfortunately for you, it'd knocked closer to him. he grabbed it, turning on you quickly, the barrel at your face.

your expression was stone cold as you just watched him. "so, this is where we're at, huh?"

"i guess so," he answered. "i can't have you helping her more than you already have."

"why? so jeanine can have more power? that doesn't help you, peter, there's nothing in it for you," you told him.

"more than if tris and four finish whatever it is they've started," he said.

your eyes stayed locked as you found your feet underneath you, peter copying your every move until you were both standing again. you took a step back towards the hallway.

"you won't shoot me," you stated as though it were a cold hard fact. "you can't."

it all happened in a blur - you turned on your heel, ready to run towards where you could hear fighting taking place, when suddenly a burning went through the flesh of your tricep. you cried out, hand coming to grasp at the bloody flesh. you turned to peter with wide eyes. the bullet had just grazed your arm and you knew it was intentional, but you also knew it was a warning. he would shoot you. and he didn't look regretful about it.

you convinced yourself that he was doing it for you. it's what he told you, what he showed you in his actions post-fight, and it was the only idea that kept you from breaking down in the medical wing of amity, in your old room in candor, at dauntless, and in the barracks at o'hare airport.

"i'm sorry." you were surprised when he spoke up, just the two of you in the small medical room in amity. his arm was wrapped and bandaged just like your own and you were being kept for observation. your trek to amity through the forests and fields surrounding chicago weren't exactly clean, and neither were your wounds. fearing infection, you were confined to a room with peter for 3 days.

"thanks." the word held little to no meaning for the both of you and little to no emotion.

"i mean it. what i did - it was to protect you. i didn't know what was happening in there and i... i couldn't lose you."

"so, you shot me instead?" you asked, finally looking over at him from your place on your bed. "you could've come with me if you were so worried. made sure i was safe by helping me help tris and four."

"i never could've ensured your safety, not with dozens of dauntless around all with the mission to protect the woman you were trying to kill," he said, a furrow forming between his brows.

"we're dauntless too," you said, emphasizing each word individually. "we're supposed to be brave. one hell of a dauntless you are."

a cold silence passed over you both and you huffed, rolling onto your side away from him. you could feel his eyes on your back and you silently willed him away.

"i'm sorry. you're right, i was scared. i wasn't willing to risk your life for the stiff's or four's - they're not worth it."

the way he said it - so soft and thoughtful - made you want to believe him. and when his voice came through again, gentle and almost timid, you did. "can i stay with you?"

you rolled over, looking at him with an unimpressed roll of your eyes, but failing to hide a small smile. he slowly pulled the sheet back and rose to his feet, crossing to your bedside. he smirked slightly, offering you a small shrug as two of his fingers brushed your hair out of your face.

"old habits die hard," he told you. you watched him for a few more moments before sighing dramatically and turning onto your back, moving slightly to the side to let him in. he was quick to slide in next to you as his smirk grew, his arm snaking under your back as you turned into him, resting your injured arm on his chest gently. he held that hand close to him, pressing a kiss to your head. "thank you, beautiful."

he knew every part of you and knew exactly how to get back into your good graces. and every time you let it happen because, well, you loved the boy. more than you wanted to admit.

and every time he let you down, every time he betrayed you and your friends and your beliefs and your core freedoms, you felt a slow burning in your core and a piercing pain behind your eyes as you tried to resist the angry tears from being made out to be a fool. again.

it became harder and harder to keep loving him and it scared you more than you cared to admit. you'd been in love with peter hayes since you were twelve years old, it was an old, aching, exciting feeling you'd grown to rely on. even through changing friends, factions, and governments, you always knew that you would love peter hayes.

almost.

you weren't surprised when you stormed into erudite headquarters to save tris and peter was there. he was bloodied and bruised and helping four off the floor. from what you'd seen, he was on your side and helped save tris before you were able to.

but given the black and blue uniform he was wearing, you knew he hadn't started that way.

he grinned widely when he saw you, crossing quickly to you as evelyn and the others restrained jeanine and her men. christina had made her way to tris, throwing her arms around her best friend, and everyone had begun to clear erudite out. his arms were around you before you could even think about stepping away, his usual smirk pulling at his lips.

"hey beautiful," he said. "miss me?"

you looked around the room, at the dangling wires and remaining screens with images of detailed suicide bots and a list of the people to infect them with. there were files about tris and the box she was supposed to open, the different factions' trials. and it all hit you at once as you looked back at the boy in front of you.

"this was all you, wasn't it?" you said quietly. "you... you had the idea for the suicide virus. because you know tris. and you helped them torture her and nearly kill her for... for what? for status?"

"baby..." he mumbled, but you were already shaking your head, pushing him away.

"no, no you left again. you joined them again, you left me again," you said, trying to keep your volume down to avoid catching the attention of the others, but you already had. tris, christina, and four were watching you both intently, four positioned in such a way you were sure he was ready to jump peter.

peter stepped towards you, mouth open to defend himself, but you shook your head. there was a glare on your face, but what hurt the most was the glint of pain in your eyes as they reddened and began to get glossy. you blinked quickly as you stepped further away.

"don't," you spat. "i don't wanna hear it."

he always had impressive defense, defenses that always had something to do with you, your safety, or your future. it was the last one that usually got you, a promise of a life with him a lot more appealing than continuing to fight over his carefully placed words and actions committed for the dauntless leaders in efforts to climb the ranks. but, now it just pissed you off even more.

"i didn't think they would win, you have to admit it's not likely, and i was trying to secure a position, secure us a position to be able to do well when jeanine came to power!" he defended. he'd followed you back to your abandoned apartment that you'd begun to occupy once more, pleading his case.

"you didn't even try to help! you didn't know who was going to win," you shouted with an exasperated laugh.

"it's honestly a shock that it was anyone but jeanine," he told you. "she had everything set up, it seemed the better situation."

"she didn't care about you peter! she didn't care! she was a tyrant, only searching for power and taking it from people like us, including you," you spat. "you left, seeking something i have no interest in, and claim it's for us, for me. i don't want it, peter. and i don't want you here. get out."

he hadn't been able to get enough alone time to convince your forgiveness yet. you were preoccupying yourself with everything you could - helping four wrangle his mother, helping tris come up with a plan to escape, and eventually helping everyone carry out said plan.

you were beyond pissed when you joined them in the car after carrying out last-minute transfer papers with christina and you found peter sitting in the backseat with caleb.

"what is he doing here?" you asked, eyes flashing to four with a huff.

"he threatened to turn us in," tris answered quickly, glancing back at the boy. "get in."

christina, the good friend she is, sat herself between you and him. unfortunately, the ride wasn't that long, and you soon had to climb a wall - with peter at you side trying his darnedest to talk to you.

"look baby, i'm sorry," he said as you neared the top of the wall, turning to pull himself up and holding a hand out to you. you pushed it away as you stood, unhooking your anchor and rehooking it around a nearer pole as you readied to drop to the other side.

"shut up, peter."

tris and four were dealing with your tricky border patrol situation, giving you just enough time to ensure everyone's anchors were set up same as yours.

"please, i'm trying here-"

"now is not the time," you said with a pointed look.

"just, please-"

"shut up, peter!" you yelled, ducking quickly as shots were fired in your direction.

you were baffled at how many emotions you associated with him now. you were never really sure which emotion you were feeling; love, hate, annoyance, fondness, care, disdain, or hope - but you were feeling it. you felt it all.

you weren't really good at sleeping anymore. you weren't sure if it was because of everything you'd been through or simply how fast your brain was moving as if it were intent on keeping you from falling asleep - but whatever it was, it was costing you energy and what was supposed to be a problem-less bliss away from the turmoil of your world. away from peter.

you turned over in your bed again, finally giving up with a sigh. you stood, wiping your eyes clear of whatever drowsiness had consumed them and beginning your now routine walk around the used-to-be airport.

your hands stayed in the pockets of your sweats as you walked through the halls, breathing in the not-so-fresh air. it was funny being here, so different from chicago and simultaneously comforting and discomforting.

like the figure that was following you.

he'd joined your side wordlessly every night since you arrived, making the first correct decision in searching for your forgiveness since he'd betrayed you in chicago.

finally, you let a soft smile slip onto your lips, stuffing your hands further into your pockets. "hi peter."

he was surprised you acknowledged him, looking at you with such in his eyes. "uh, hi."

"so, can you not sleep either or do you stay up just to walk with me?" you asked the question that'd been bothering you since he began doing so. he smiled sheepishly, offering you a small shrug.

"can it be a bit of both?" he asked.

"i guess," you nodded. the two of you walked in silence again for a few moments before you raised your voice again. "why do you do it?"

this caught him off guard. he wanted to ask 'what?' but he knew the answer. he indulged you, sighing. "i'm selfish. i want the power."

"and you sacrifice everything and everyone even for the chance of it."

"yeah," he confirmed, his head hanging as he watched his feet. his tone dropped to a regretful level. "yeah."

"i don't know why you're hardwired to act this way, who taught you that power was the end-all, but i want to ask you something and i want you to think hard about it," you told him, looking at him with the most genuine, serious expression he'd seen from you, your brows raised and lips pursed.

"alright," he agreed with a nod.

"what do you want? really? and don't let your brain do the talking, we know it's fucked up, so just listen to how you feel. what do you want?"

he wanted to laugh at your insult, but he knew now wasn't the time. and so instead, he thought. for a long time.

you were content walking in silence next to him again as you rounded the corner to the cafeteria and continued your loop to the barracks.

every so often, his eyes would travel to you and settle there for a good while, analyzing every aspect of your features and meeting your eye once or twice.

he called your name gently when you were just a few minutes away from the barracks, his feet stopping as he looked up to watch you completely. you halted as well, turning slightly to look at him.

"yeah?" you asked. he stepped towards you, eyes falling to the floor for a few moments as he collected his thoughts fully. they returned to yours as he stood only a step or two away from you.

"i know what i want," he told you surely.

"and what is that, peter?" you asked.

"to be happy." it was a simple enough answer, one that seemed obvious to anyone else. but, for some reason, it brought a sad smile to your lips.

as he stood in front of you, you realized that for the first time in a long time he wasn't holding his shoulders perfectly square, or pulling his lips into a confident smirk, crossing his arms over his chest, or setting his jaw into a stone-like state. instead, his feet were slightly too close together, leaving his hip jutting out and his shoulders were sagging, his hands lazily at his sides and his mouth relaxed into an uncaring line.

"i want to be happy," he said again and his voice wavered slightly as he did so.

you don't know what came over you, but you threw yourself into his arms, his head tucking into your neck as he clung to your torso tightly. you held his head, fingers raking through his curls soothingly. you felt his eyelashes against your skin and something wet dripping off them as he blinked, causing your heart to clench and you to pull him tighter to you.

"i just want to be happy." his words buzzed on your skin and you nodded, pulling away from him slowly. you kept him close, hands on his cheeks as your thumbs wiped away tears. his hands gripped your wrists tightly, his bottom lip tucked under the top one as he twitched, a sob trapped behind his teeth.

you smiled softly at him. "i know."

"and that has nothing to do with power," he told you quickly, as though if he were to wait any longer he wouldn't be able to say it at all. "i've never been happy with it, but i've always thought it's what i - what i needed. but, i needed you. whenever i left i thought about you and when i came back i needed you near me. the only times i've ever felt what i imagine joy is like is when i'm with you, but i've only ever let you down."

he paused, seemingly to catch his breath, for a few moments, eyes closing momentarily. you attempted to shush him gently to avoid the painful words you knew were coming, but he continued anyways.

"i don't deserve forgiveness. i know that. but please," he breathed out. "if there's any way you could forgive me, i swear to you i'll never leave your side. i'm yours, please baby."

a small, sad smile pulled at your lips as your thumb ran over his damp cheekbone. "you scare me, peter. i don't know if i can trust you." you had to be honest, and he knew that. he appreciated it. but you could see in his eyes that it hurt anyways. "but, i've never been able to not love you. and i've never been able to keep you out of my life for long."

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the boy pulling you quickly towards him, arms wound tightly around your middle. you kissed his neck, hugging him closely. "i forgive you, peter."

if his grip could get any tighter, it did, before he pulled away, his face awfully close to yours.

"i love you so much," he told you, hand cupping your jaw as he captured your lips in his for a long-awaited kiss. it was slightly salty and more emotional than most of your other kisses, but it was equally as passionate. as you parted, he breathed deeply, pressing several kisses to your forehead and top of your hair as he pulled you back into his chest. "thank you, beautiful girl."

[zwelcii]

peter hayes x former amity????? love your writing btw!!

too | peter hayes

you kept your distance because you knew you couldn't have him.

peter hayes. a name that dripped with trouble and cruelty, someone most people either feared or hated, and yet, your heart continued to betray you. you were born in amity, raised to be peaceful, taught to love without complication, and customed to avoid conflict. yet here you were, falling for a boy who represented against everything you were taught to avoid.

it was irrational. stupid, even. you told yourself that every day. this is wrong. he's wrong for you. but there was something about the way he moved, how he spoke so confidently, and maybe the shade of his hair that drew you in. you hated that about yourself. it was like watching a storm from the safety of your home—dangerous and destructive, yet oddly mesmerising. you thought it was ridiculous how some aesthetic attraction you had for a boy could lead you to question everything you were brought up on.

"you're being an idiot, you know," christina had said once, not unkindly, but blunt as always. you were sitting in the cafeteria with her and tris, the two of them chatting about training, gossip, the usual. you, of course, had been caught staring at peter again from across the room. you couldn't help it; even when you tried. your eyes always found him without effort.

tris nudged you lightly, her small smile sympathetic but cautious. "yeah, she's right. you should just... let it go. it's peter. he's not worth it."

and you knew that. logically, they were right. peter wasn't the kind of guy you should want. but you believed that logic never had anything to do with the heart. logic didn't stop your heart from racing every time he glanced your way, or your stomach from fluttering when his lips quirked into that sly grin of his.

regardless, you listened to them—tris and christina. you kept your distance and kept quiet. but while your mind understood that peter hayes was off-limits, it didn't stop your heart from dreaming about all the ways you could have had him.

choosing dauntless had come with its own set of challenges. other than peter hayes. your kindness, your softness, wasn't something people there valued. dauntless celebrated strength, ferocity, and bravery. and sure, you had learned how to fight, how to defend yourself, but your core remained the same. soft. caring.

people noticed, of course. it wasn't hard to ignore the way you'd check up on others after a particualrly rough sparring session, or the way you'd always seem to hold back any time you had to fight anyone competitively.

you rarely fought back during petty arguments, never raised your voice. you didn't fit in the way you were supposed to, but that didn't mean you weren't respected. people admired you quietly, in their own way. you knew it wasn't loud praise or direct acknowledgment, but you caught the way some of the others softened when they spoke to you, or how they didn't mind standing by your side during sessions. many must have thought you were too gentle for dauntless, but that gentleness had earned you a quiet kind of respect.

peter was one of those people. or at least, you thought he was. it was hard to tell with him. he never outright said anything to you—never mocked you like he did with others. but then again, he never talked to you in general. more than anything, he avoided you. it was subtle, the way he slipped out of rooms when you entered or how he always seemed to position himself at the far end of the group. he wasn't cruel to you the way he was to others, but he wasn't kind either.

however, it hurt the most when you overheard al saying that peter was always adamant about changing the subject whenever you were brought up.

you hadn't meant to eavesdrop. it wasn't something you normally did, but you were passing by the dormitory when you heard al's voice, low and serious, drifting from the open door. you paused, half-hidden behind the wall, just out of sight, when you caught your name.

"yeah, i don't get it," al was saying, sounding confused. "every time we talk about her, peter shuts it down. like, he doesn't want to hear it. gets all weird about it, like he doesn't care or something."

your stomach twisted, a sharp ache settling in your chest. you pressed your back against the wall, trying to steady your breath. he didn't care. you had suspected it before, of course, but hearing it confirmed like this—so casual, like it was just a known fact—hurt more than you wanted to admit.

you figured it was because he saw you as a non—threat. someone too soft, too insignificant to bother with. and maybe that was for the best. keeping your distance meant you could admire him from afar without getting hurt.

"he's staring at you again," christina muttered one day, her voice low as she leaned across the table, her eyes flicking over to where peter sat with a group of initiates. you were about to protest, thinking you misheard her and that she meant that you were staring again. but you hadn't been looking his way this time—not intentionally—but the moment she said it. you felt the familiar pull in your chest. a stupid, traitorous part of you wanted to glance back, to see if it was true. that he was looking at you.

but you didn't. you kept your eyes fixed on your plate, stabbing at the food in front of you like it was suddenly very interesting. "he's probably just plotting something," you said, trying to keep your tone light, dismissive.

"yeah, well, if he is, it must be takin' him quite some time," christina laughed. she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, a curious glint in her eyes. "he's been doing that a lot lately."

tris, ever observant, raised an eyebrow. "you noticed that too?"

your heart skipped a beat.

"it's probably nothing," you mumbled, a little too quickly. "peter doesn't care about me. he barely even looks at me."

"uh-huh," christina smirked, clearly not buying it. "sure. keep telling yourself that."

you didn't reply. what could you even say? you knew for a fact that peter didn't like you. he couldn't. not with the way he acted, the way he seemed to avoid being near you. if anything, he was probably just irritated by your presence. you were an anomaly to him, someone who didn't fit neatly into the world he created for himself. an annoyance that he couldn't get rid of.

still, a small, foolish part of you couldn't help but wonder what if. what if peter wasn't avoiding you because he disliked you? what if it was something else entirely?

days passed, and you continued to keep your distance. it wasn't hard. peter made sure of that. he rarely spoke to you, and when he did, it was curt, to the point. he never lingered, never allowed for more than necessary. but there was something strange in the way his eyes flicked toward you when he thought you weren't looking, how he stiffened slightly when your shoulders brushed by accident during training, how his eyes would dart between yours and your lips when you spoke.

you told yourself it didn't matter. even if there was something more behind his actions, it wasn't your place to find out. not when you knew how dangerous he could be, not just to others, but to yourself. because the truth was, if you let him in, he had the potential to destroy you in ways you couldn't even fathom.

and then, one night, everything changed.

you were in the training room late, the others having already left for the night. it was quiet, the dim lighting casting shadows across the floor. you liked the solitude, the peace that came from being alone in a place that was usually full of noise and chaos. it reminded you of your old home, of the calmness that amity had offered. dauntless was far from it.

you didn't expect anyone else to be there. least of all peter.

you had just finished practicing a round of punches against the bag when you heard the door creak open. you froze, your breath catching in your throat as you turned. there he was, standing in the doorway, his dark eyes locking onto yours the moment he stepped inside.

your heart thudded painfully in your chest. "peter," you breathed, the sound of his name foreign and shaky on your tongue. you hadn't been alone with him in... you couldn't even remember how long. and now, with no one else around, the tension in the air felt suffocating.

he didn't say anything at first, just stared at you, his expression unreadable, almost debating. then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

"why are you here?"

his tone wasn't accusatory, but it wasn't friendly either. you wiped the sweat from your brow, trying to keep your voice steady. "just... practising. why are you here?"

he shrugged, his gaze flicking away from you for a brief moment before settling back. "same."

there was an awkward silence that followed. you didn't know what to do, didn't know how to handle being alone with him. you had always been so careful, so diligent about avoiding moments like this. but now, with no one else around, you could feel every suppressed feeling bubbling up inside you.

and then, out of nowhere, peter's voice cut through the quiet.

"why do you look at me like that?"

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. "what?"

"don't play dumb," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "you think i don't notice? every time. you look at me like..." he trailed off, his jaw tightening, like he was angry at himself for even bringing it up.

your stomach dropped. you had tried so hard to be subtle, to hide it. but of course, peter had noticed. he noticed everything. "i don't—" you began to deny it, but the words felt hollow, false.

peter took a step closer, his voice low, as if he were sharing a secret meant only for you. "i didn't want to love you, you know." his eyes locked onto yours, intense and unwavering, holding you in place.

"isn't that what this is about?" he asked, his tone sharper now, frustration creeping in. "if you don't like me, you don't have to be all amity about it."

the world seemed to tilt beneath your feet, his words crackling in the air like electricity. your breath caught in your throat, heart pounding as your mind raced to catch up. love? you could barely process anything beyond that.

"w-what?" you stammered, feeling foolish for not hearing anything else he'd said. the butterflies in your stomach fluttered wildly, your pulse quickening as his closeness made everything else fade away. nothing seemed real except for him—standing just inches from you, his words still echoing in your ears.

he ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, like he was fighting some internal battle he couldn't win. his jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might just turn and leave. but instead, he continued, his voice rougher, more raw. "it's not like i wanted to like you," he said, his words stumbling out like he'd been holding them back for too long. "but then you smiled at me. and—holy shit, i blew it."

you blinked, trying to take in what he was saying, but before you could respond, he barreled on, clearly on edge. "and now you look at me like you hate me. i mean, why wouldn't you? everyone else does. i've been a total asshole, but at least they've got the guts to show it. but you—you're too... too nice to show it." his voice softened for a moment, the vulnerability in his eyes surprising you. "so, now you're just pretending to be nice, pretending to not hate me by staying away from me. but i need you to know, i didn't want this. i didn't want to like you, but now—"

he broke off, frustration radiating off him, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "now i can't stop thinking about you, and it's driving me crazy." he really didn't want you to hate him.

you stood there, your heart swelling at the sight of him—peter hayes, always so tough and unfeeling—so undone in front of you. he thought you hated him? the idea almost made you laugh, but instead, a warmth spread through you, something gentle and tender.

without thinking, you let out a soft laugh, the sound surprising even you. his eyes snapped to yours, confusion flashing across his face. "what? what's so funny?"

"you," you said softly, stepping closer, your fingers hesitantly reaching up to cup his face, the warmth of his skin against your palms making your heart race. his breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in his defensive walls—he was flustered.

his eyes widened, his tough demeanor faltering as he stood frozen under your touch. instinctively, he brought his hands to your hips, shy and uncertain.

you smiled, feeling more at ease now, more sure of yourself. "i love you too, hayes," you whispered, keeping him close, your thumbs brushing lightly across his cheeks and you couldn't help but admire the way his eyes smile before his lips.

for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. then, slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased, his lips parting slightly as he exhaled a shaky breath.

"you do?" he asked, his voice almost vulnerable, the usual bite gone.

and just like that, the walls he'd built so high around himself crumbled.

you nodded, your voice soft. "i do."

[cruisecel]

miles tellers' scars

[lilithslittleworld]

Should be me fr (in the middle because they’re both so hot)

[djappleblush]

So, there I was one late evening minding my own damn business and living a relatively quiet life when I scrolled yt and suddenly a vision came up in the form of this short clip and I was like, "HOLD UP WTF THAT GUY LOOKS SO HOT AND COOL" so I scrolled back and HOLY SH!T IS THAT MILES TELLER??? WHAT??? HOW???? WHY DOES HE LOOK SO HOT ALL OF A SUDDEN????

And that's the story of how I spiraled into my new obsession with Miles Teller in the year of our lord 2025.

This is the vision that passed me, by the way:

[interestinghuman117]

I know the divergent fandom is mostly dead now but I will die on the hill that Peter (in the movies) Should have gotten a redemption arc.

This opinion is mostly prompted by the fact that Miles Teller is hot. Thank you. 🙂‍↕️

[uses-for-fics]

Rereading Divergent rn and I wanna rewrite my Peter Hayes fics idk yet

[barnesboo1967]

Beach boy

[simplyundeniable98]

watching allegiant is GENUINELY a struggle for me cause i HATE peter but like? it’s miles teller? LOOK AT HIM?!

[swiftlyinlove]

Anti-hero ;; Peter Hayes

pairing: Peter Hayes x GN!Reader

summary: Peter Hayes is exhausted of seeing his girlfriend, the only good thing in his life, always rooting for the anti-hero.

warnings: enemies (brief) to lovers, a little angst mixed with fluff, Peter thinks he's undeserving of love, deviation from canon, Evelyn is a manipulative bitch, more book-based than movie-based.

word count: approximately 4.1k.

a/n: Hi! I'm so excited to be publishing my first one-shot here on Tumblr. This one has kinda been sitting in my drafts for a couple of months. never actually saw the movies, I just read the books, but I really liked the way his redemption arc was handled, and I found myself imagining how different it would've been if he had someone who loved him by his side.

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

Peter couldn't sleep. Maybe it was because he was uneasy on his new surroundings. Maybe it was the fact that everyone in the Bureau of Genetic Welfare knew the terrible things that he'd done, all the sins he committed back in Chicago, and hated him for it. Maybe it was the fact that almost all of his traveling companions hated his guts. Maybe it was all of those combined.

Despite of the cause of the problem, Peter found himself sitting near the peculiar fountain at the center of the Bureau's headquarters. His gaze was fixed on the letter he held delicately in his hand, his eyes not moving away from the swooping, sloping cursive letters. Your handwritting.

Your letter was the only thing he brought with him when he joined Tris and her friends on their quest to explore the world beyond the city's limits. You had written it back when he was serving Jeanine Matthew's and holding Tris and Tobias captive. You had been trying to free the two of them from Jeanine's villainous clutches, while at the same time trying to save Peter from succumbing into his own darkness.

In midnights like that, as Peter read your letter over and over again, he thought he didn't deserve you. You two had met back when you were still initiates at Dauntless - you had left Erudite, along with your good friend Will, while Peter had left his family behind in Candor.

You didn't have the best of starts, he had to admit. You grew up in a very toxic environment, where you had to excel at every single thing that you did in order to receive even the minimum amount of love and approval from your parents. He, on the contrary, was raised by a very loving family, but he simply craved to be the best at everything.

So, when training started and you both competed for the best pontuation in every activity, Peter wasn't exactly thrilled. And neither were you. Hatred started blossoming within the two of you like a rose full of thorns, your frustration towards each other close to the exploding point.

You were a very kind-hearted person, as Peter noticed early in your rivalry. You quickly became friends with Tris, Christina, and even Al. The fact that he seemed to bully Tris the most, since she was transfered from Abnegation, only added fuel to the fire that was your loathe for Peter Hayes.

However, with time, Peter caught himself noticing every little thing you did. He caught notice of how his heart would flutter - but only a little - whenever he saw you helping out your friends, either with training tasks or just normal day-to-day things.

He realized how his gaze would linger on you when you weren't looking, how he couldn't help the way his lips curled up whenever he saw your name placed high on the scoreboard. Hell, he didn't even mind if you scored better than him. Not anymore.

Turned out, the line between love and hate truly was thin. He tried to swallow his feelings, because he was aware of how awful he had been to you and your friends. He was sure you'd never like him back; he would never stand a chance with a good person like you.

It was in the middle of the second stage of initiation that you realized how your banter actually amused you. How Peter's snarky comments would bring a genuine smile to your face, and his absence left you feeling empty. You knew you shouldn't feel that way; he was incredibly mean to your friends, especially Tris, but you couldn't help how you felt.

There was one night in particular that changed everything. You couldn't sleep, so you sat on your bed. Your eyes were immediately pulled towards Peter's bed across the room, where the boy himself tossed and turned, similarly unable to sleep.

You put your shoes on before approaching his bed. “Hey, do you wanna take a walk? I can't sleep. It seems like you can't, either. We could just walk in silence... I just want some company.” You whispered.

He was quick to accept your offer, much to your surprise. In a few moments you were both crossing the transferred initiates' dorm. You cast a look upon Drew and Al's empty beds, but payed it no mind as you and Peter sneaked off onto the dark hallways of the Dauntless headquarters.

"So..." Peter started the conversation, to your delight. "Do you usually have the urge to sneak off the dorms and go on walks with your arch-nemesis in the middle of the night?"

His words made you chuckle. "No. Only you, I suppose." You teased. If the hallways weren't dipped into darkness, you would've been able to see the faint blush rushing to his cheeks due to your comment.

After that, you pretty much talked about everything. About your life before Dauntless, about the families you left behind, about your hopes and fears for the future. You were amazed by how funny, vulnerable and good he could be once he let his walls down. So, when he leaned in to kiss you right as you were telling him about the painted ceiling of your old bedroom back home, you didn't really opose to it.

You decided to keep your relationship secret, at least for a little while. You knew your friends wouldn't be too thrilled with the idea of you dating Peter Hayes.

Especially because, as you'd find out the next morning, Drew and Al had sexually harassed Tris, and also tried to kill her, on that very same night. You couldn't believe your own ears; how could Al, such a sweet boy, do that to his own friend?

It became pretty clear to you that Tris was convinced Drew was only doing Peter's bidding, and Al just came along for the ride. You knew that wasn't true - you noticed the disgusted glint in Peter's eyes when he found out what his alleged friend had done. But there was no way you could change Tris' mind.

Your relationship was filled with discreet, longing glances across the room at lunch, dates in the middle of the night and little notes left in your pockets, telling you how beautiful you looked and how much he missed you. Peter even stopped coming after Tris and the rest of your friends; he couldn't do that to you.

Being with you made him want to be a better person, made him want to fight the darkness within him so he could be the man you deserved.

You were so excited when you passed the initiation in third place - Tris was first and Peter was, obviously, second - that you hugged him without even thinking, in front of everyone, and he was so thrilled that you were willing to be seen with him that he didn't really mind.

Your friends inquired you about your relationship with him after that, about his intentions. Yes, they had noticed Peter's sudden shift in behaviour after you began dating, but that didn't erase all the horrible things he did before.

After you explained everything, you could see the glint of forgiveness in Tris' eyes. She was very happy that you found love, even if it was with him, and the rest or your friends soon followed in her steps and congratulated you.

That was the night you exchanged your first 'I love you's. As fate would have it, that night would also be remembered by History as the night Chicago's experiment turned into a massacre.

When my depression works the graveyard shift

All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room

Peter closed his eyes, his hold on the letter only tightening slightly as he recalled the events of that fateful night. He remembered being confused as he saw everyone, including a very clumsy Tris, march out of the dorms with soldier like movements.

However, the image that would stick to his brain whenever he remembered that night would be of your soulless eyes looking past him as if he didn't even exist.

The following hours were a bit hazy in his mind. Peter had no idea what was happening, why all of his colleagues were leaving the premises heavily armed, looking like mindless puppets.

But when one of the Dauntless highest class members approached him and told him to guard the halls of the headquarters, it became pretty clear to him that he would be dead if he didn't oblige. And then he would never see you again.

As he roamed the halls, holding his gun tightly with both hands, his mind drifted towards you. He was afraid of so many things. He was afraid of how the city would be once it was all over. He was afraid of getting shot, of being unable to live to see another day.

And yet, his biggest fear was that you would be hurt. He feared that you would be killed, that you'd be another body lying still in the streets full of corpses, mostly from Abnegation.

He didn't know when he would see you again, if he would see you again. The fear and the anxiety of not knowing anything clawed at his insides, begging him to do something other than comply to the enemies' orders. But he couldn't act on his impulses, not without a good plan. So he waited.

When Tris marched into the Dauntless corridors with Caleb, Marcus, and her father, Peter couldn't be more relieved. Maybe she knew where you were, if you were safe.

That relief quickly evaporated once Tris, under the impression that Peter had gladly and willingly allied himself with the enemy, shot him in the arm and dragged him at gunpoint towards the simulation control room, where Four was operating under the influence of the divergent serum.

Peter wasn't too happy to be following Tris and Four to the Amity compound, but he did need to get his wound taken care of. Although all of that was forgotten once he saw you, alive and well, standing next to Johanna Reyes, the leader of the Amity section.

He ran towards you, enveloping you in the tightest hug he could muster. His bullet wound was hurting like hell, yes, but the feeling of you in his arms, again? Nothing could beat it. So, when you felt your neck get wet from the desperate tears running down his face, you only placed a kiss to his temple and stroke the back of his head. He was finally in your arms again. He was finally home.

Your reunion, although emotional, was short lived. Soon the Erudite and the Dauntless traitors invaded the Amity headquarters in order to arrest the Divergents and you parted ways once more - while you had managed to escape with Tris, Four, Caleb and Susan, Peter and Marcus remained behind.

You were devastated. How cruel fate was, to bring you together only to pull you apart, over and over again. You didn't even know if he was alive. Therefore, when you arrived at the Factionless sector, you felt like a big piece of you was missing.

Peter, on the other hand, had nowhere to go after his near encounter with death. He didn't know where you were, nor did he have any friend that he could track down. His only choice was to go back to the Erudite section and beg Jeanine Matthew's to trust him.

He could barely mask his disgust of the spineless woman, but little by little he gained her trust. She thought she could take advantage of his poor little soul, that he was alone in this world with no one else to trust. Oh, how wrong she was.

It was only when Tris surrended to the Erudite and was held captive in their headquarters that you caught wind of Peter's stay in the Erudite headquarters.

You wrote him a letter, the letter he held in his very hands right now, begging him to come home. To save Tris and Tobias, to betray the cruel Jeanine and to come back to you.

And so he mustered a plan. With Cara's help he switched the death serum with a paralytic one, saving Tris from execution and successfully escaping with her and Four. The proud look in your eyes when the three joined you in the Abnegation factor was one he'd never forget. In that moment, he felt invencible.

He felt like he could beat the voice within him that implored for him to succumb to darkness. He felt like he could, finally, be deserving of you.

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

Peter didn't want you to come with them to the city's limits at first. Only God knew what they would find beyond them, what the world would be like outside of the chaotic Chicago.

But you had been separated so many times before that you couldn't even bare the thought of being left behind in the messed up city while he walked towards the unknown. What would you do if he never returned? If he died, or if he simply found someone else and decided to abandon you?

Therefore you insisted upon going. You wanted to be there for him, for your friends, no matter what was waiting for all of you on the other side of the rusty old train tracks that marked the end of your city, of your whole world. Up until now.

Whatever your group was hoping to find on this expedition, it surely wasn't this. It wasn't the Bureau of Genetic Welfare waiting for you. It wasn't the revelation that all of you, except Tris and maybe Four, were genetically damaged and were isolated from the world with the sole purpose of healing.

It wasn't the knowledge that the government had been watching your actions the entire time, not doing anything while the inhabitants of Chicago killed each other by Jeanine's command.

On nights like this, when he couldn't sleep, Peter could feel the anger overtaking his body. How dare the Bureau stand by watching while multiple lives were being destroyed? How dare they call them damaged and lock them up on the city, disconnecting them from the whole world?

How dare they sit and observe his entire life, completing riping him of his privacy? The privacy of his first kiss, the privacy of his mourning for his fellow classmates and strangers that were murdered in cold blood.

That's why he always brought your letter with him on his late night walks. Your written words soothe him, strip him from his fury towards the Bureau, towards the world.

He can feel his eyes starting to close, sleep slowly dominating his body, so he promptly returns to the dorms. He can feel a smile forming on his lips as he finds you peacefully asleep in your bed - you always looked cute when you slept. Peter carefully slid under the cover next to you, leaning his body against yours. You were his anchor, his home, and he couldn't wish for more.

You woke up at the first signs of dawn, when the sun rays emerged through the windows. A sleepy smile formed on your lips once you took notice of Peter's arms around your waist. You turn around in his arms, planting a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose before carefully getting up. You did your best not to wake him, knowing he was probably tired from his nightly walk.

Despite his best efforts to conceal his angry thoughts from you, you knew what was going on in his head. You knew he resented what you discovered outside the city you've known your whole life. You knew he felt betrayed - of course he did, and so did the rest of you.

And you knew all his wrath was keeping him up at night. You desperately wanted to help him, to comfort him, but you decided it was better to give him some space. You waited patiently for him to come to you, to vent about your current situation. But he never did.

You noticed curiously how Uriah's bed was neatly arranged, despite it being very early. Christina's bed was also empty, you realized. You knew they were getting close lately, a little too close to be just 'friends', and you were very happy for them. After all they went through, with Christina losing Will and Uriah losing Marlene, they deserved to find love again.

You left the provisorial dorms provided to you and your friends by the Bureau while you decided whether you wanted to stay in the facilities or return to Chicago.

You made your way to the cafeteria, humming to whatever song was playing on the Bureau's radio, praying that Peter was finally resting well.

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I'll watch as you're leaving

And life will lose all its meaning

For the last time

A few hours later, you were making your way back to the dorms when you heard a guttural scream that sounded a lot like Peter echoing through the room. You rushed towards his bed; luckily enough, everyone was already up and wandering, so it was only the two of you.

“Pete, love, wake up.” You said lovingly as you gently shook his trembling frame. Once his eyes opened and you could see how glossy they were, a few tears already escaping and cascading down his face, your heart broke in two. “It was just a nightmare, everything is okay. I'm right here.”

Your presence seemed to calm him slightly, but flashes from his nightmare kept plaguing his mind. Deep down, he knew it was only a manifestation of his fear; but it felt so real... Your figure, lying lifeless and cold on the ground, seemed so real to him.

He knew his life would lose all its meaning if you weren't in it. Before you, he was ruthless. He was cruel. The only thing he was interested in was coming in first place in everything, even if he had to push people down to get there.

After you... Well, he was a whole different person. You saved him without even knowing he needed to be saved. You made him want to be better, want to be kind. Without you, he was absolutely sure he would be lost.

He couldn't even bare the thought of you leaving him, it was way too painful. But the thought of you dying in his arms while he was completely helpless? That fucking broke his heart, shattered it into a million little pieces.

“Promise me you'll never leave me.” He requested, his voice trembling as you gently wiped away the tears that continued to roll down his cheek. “Please, that's the only thing I'm asking.”

You sat down next to him on the small bed and he immediately threw himself into your open arms, your caresses on his brown curls soothing him. “I know you're afraid of what might happen while we're here, or if we go back to the city. But believe in one thing, I won't go away. Even if I died, I'd come back to haunt your ass.”

Your words made him chuckle, feeling alright for the first time in what felt like forever. Your reassurance melted his heart and he pulled you down so you were lying next to him, snuggling his body closer to yours and letting you rest your head on his chest.

It's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

It had been a few weeks since Peter's nightmare and things were slowly starting to get better. You often woke up in the middle of the night and found Peter sleeping next to you, his chest slowly rising up and down.

Despite how calm everything around you seemed, you sensed something coming, something big. And, in an apparently random thursday, that something did indeed arrive.

You were outside of the Bureau, training with Tris and Four to keep your combat skills in good shape, while Peter was in the dorm getting dressed after awaking from a well-deserved nap.

As he tied the laces of his black combat boots, a loud ring echoed through his mind, interrupting his actions. His head was throbbing, sending shockwaves of pain through his body, and he sat back down on his bed.

That's when he'd heard it. “Hey, Peter. Guess who finally found you? " Evelyn's voice rang to his head, and his eyes widened.

Shit, he thought, as he recalled the Dauntless graduation day, when Eric had injected the serum on all of the initiates. His hadn't been activated on the night of the massacre, it was true, but he still had it flowing through his veins, and Evelyn could've easily found a way to activate it, or at least to communicate with him through it.

"Didn't know you had the guts to run away, Hayes. It must be exhausting having to live with people who hate you. " Evelyn spoke once more.

“Shut up!" Peter yelled out loud in response. "You don't know anything about me!"

"Sure I do." Evelyn replied. "I know your little girlfriend is with you. It would be a shame if she was suddenly attacked out there by one of my soldiers, wouldn't it?"

Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm his speeding heart and his growing nerves. Tightly closing his trembling hand in a fist, he muttered. "You wouldn't dare."

"Do you really think I wouldn't?" She questioned, but continued before he even had time to answer. "What if we made a deal? You do one little thing for me and I won't kill your girlfriend. How does that sound?"

He thought carefully about his next move. The last thing he wanted was to be under that evil woman's command. But, then again, he couldn't risk losing you. "What do I have to do?" Peter asked, his voice no louder than a whisper.

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Peter's gun pointed forward towards an all-familiar enemy - Tris -, hands shaking in fear, an aching regret spreading rapidly through his chest like a burning fire.

He doesn't want to do this at all, but it's what's expected of him. It's what Evelyn expects of him, to be a good little puppet. It's what everyone expects of him, to be a villain, to betray the hero in the end. But not you.

No, you don't see him as the villain, like everyone else. If anything, you see him as a hero in his own way. An anti-hero of sorts.

A salty tear slides down his face at the thought of you; what would you say if you saw him like this? Would you be angered by his actions? Would you be disappointed? Would you leave him, like everyone else?

He didn't notice as you walked into the room, your doe eyes falling upon his figure. Your heart started beating faster, but not by anger or fear of him. No, you feared for him.

You feared he would do something he'd regret. You feared the guilt that would soon after invade his brain, filling him with melancholia. But above all else, you feared what would happen if he didn't press the trigger, you feared your friends' reaction.

So you rushed towards him and hugged him from behind. He didn't need to turn around to see it was you. Every bone, every fiber in his body recognized your scent, your embrace.

“You don't need to do this.” You whispered in his ear, tightening your hold on him to remind him that you would always be there.

And so he let go of all the cruel expectations and the ridiculous anger that were sewed into his soul from the moment he was born. With a loud bang, his pistol fell to the marble floor, and he turned around only to bury himself in your embrace.

In front of you, Tris sighed in relief, her face twisting into a somewhat empathic expression. On her left side, Four visibly relaxed, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders.

Peter hadn't realized it, but more tears were now cascading down his face, loud sobs escaping his lips as one of your hands caressed his hair.

“Everything's okay. You're okay.” You muttered. And, for the first time in his life, he believed it. He didn't give a shit about Evelyn or her threats anymore; as long as you were with him, he would always protect you.

[justhavinfunnn]

Keleigh and Miles with Zoe Kravitz and Taylor Swift ✨

[slashingdisneypasta]

I love Miles Teller as Peter so much, because you can tell he read the books. He's not just playing a traiterous bully (although he does that really well too), he's playing a boy who hates himself. You can tell so clearly, especially in Allegiant ("That's why you pick a guy like me for a job like this."), that Peter d e s p i s e s the way he is.

And I love that!! It's so book accurate <3<3<3

[zwelcii]

love me anyway | peter hayes

peter leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowing as he watched you from across the pit. you were laughing with the others, your smile wide and effortless, but something about the glint in your eyes always seemed bittersweet. it was as if the laughter was a mask, hiding the truth of your candor-born honesty that seeped through every gesture and expression. you could never quite hide the truth seeping behind the way you smiled, another layer of your candor-born honesty peeking out from under every facade you put on. not that it could be helped. the truth bled from the very way looked, very words you breathed. 

he loved it. how you were basically an intricate scrapbook, pieced together by every person who had ever touched your life, every place you had ever belonged to, and every passion that had ever stirred your heart. you were a patchwork of experiences, raw and honest, and he couldn’t help but be drawn to the way you carried all of it so transparently, even when you tried to hide.

he had always been a problem. for many people, but especially for you. you were no stranger to peter hayes, growing eerily familiar to his sharp edges and cruel humor as it had been a constant presence in your life. after all, you were born in the same faction, hung around the same groups of people, followed the same set of rules. even more, your mother had never liked him. since the two of you were young he'd seem to constantly be one second away from breaking whatever—or whoever—it was in front of him. you used to think you hated him for his arrogance. for how cruel he could be, his tendency to belittle the people that cared for him.

but then you chose dauntless. with one swift cut of the ordaining knife, it wasn’t just your tender, naive skin that was cut—it was every tie to the life you once knew. suddenly, peter hayes, the only person you’ve ever despised, became the only constant factor in your life. he was the one unchanging thread that connected you to both your past and present. you tried to forget your life from before, how things were. but it was hard to admit that the only person you could blame was yourself for wanting to leave.

"staring again," christina’s voice sliced through your thoughts, jolting you back to the present. you blinked, reluctantly tearing your gaze away from peter, who was leaning casually against a wall. he was like an island of calm amidst the chaos that spread across the dauntless pit, his posture relaxed and his expression unreadable.

"i wasn’t," you insisted, but the words felt hollow even as they left your lips. your candor was a relentless betrayer, with every twitch of your mouth or flicker in your eyes revealing the truth you tried so hard to conceal. christina’s gaze sharpened with amusement, catching the subtle giveaway in your demeanor.

"right. c’mon, candor," she quipped, her voice tinged with playful sarcasm as she nudged you gently with her elbow. "may the truth set you free," she mocked with a smirk, her tone light but knowing. “you’ve got it bad.”

you shook your head, trying to mount a defense. "i don’t," you said, but your protest lacked the firmness you’d hoped for. peter had been the object of your intrigue since you’d met him in summer camp, the boy that used to look at you with such passion. the boy you promised your mother that you’d never even think of talking to. that undeniable truth seeped through the cracks of your words, finding its way into the spaces you desperately tried to guard. still, from across the room, he stared with that familiar passion.

christina’s grin widened, clearly finding amusement in your discomfort. she followed your gaze back to peter, who remained fixed on you with a knowing smirk. it was as if he thrived on every flicker of attention you gave him, the curve of his lips revealing his awareness. he seemed to relish in the fact that you couldn’t tear your eyes away, savoring the way his presence bothered you.

"besides, he’s a total jerk," you said, your voice trailing off as you tried to mask your uncertainty. the effort to convince yourself sounded more like a feeble excuse than a genuine assertion. you fixed your gaze away from peter, forcing yourself to focus on his flaws—his arrogance, the cruel edge in his humor, the narcissism he wielded with such practiced ease. yet, despite your best intentions, all you could think about was his lingering touch and your stolen glances. you failed at every attempt to distance yourself. it was as if he was fully aware of the internal battle you were waging and took a twisted pleasure in it.

you remembered an instance from a few nights ago.

you’d been crying in the communal bathrooms, the cold tiles beneath you doing nothing to ease the burning sensation behind your eyes. it had been a bad day—training had pushed you to your limit, the weight of your decision to leave candor pressed down hard, and the overwhelming newness of dauntless was closing in from all sides.

the tears had come suddenly, without warning, and once they started, you couldn’t stop them. you didn’t want to cry—not here, not in a place where showing weakness was as good as painting a target on your back. but you were alone, or so you thought, and it had been too much to keep inside.

then you heard the door creak open. you immediately wiped your face, hurriedly trying to compose yourself, when you heard his voice.

"didn’t expect to find you here," peter’s voice was low, casual, but there was an edge to it that you couldn’t quite place. you assumed it was taunting.

your first instinct was defensiveness. after years of being taught to hate him, after years of believing he was nothing but cruel and self-serving, you bristled at his presence. you had no idea why he was here, and the last thing you needed was to deal with peter hayes right now.

“go away, peter,” you muttered, not even bothering to look up at him. your voice came out more bitter than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. it was habit. you’d spent years convincing yourself that he was the last person you could rely on. “i don’t wanna talk to you.”

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. you expected him to leave—maybe with a sharp remark, something that would sting, something that would remind you exactly who he was and why you should stay far away from him. but he didn’t. instead, you felt him sit down beside you, close enough for his presence to be known but not close enough to make you uncomfortable.

he didn’t speak. he didn’t tease or push. he just sat there, quiet, waiting.

you didn’t want to give in. you didn’t want to let your guard down around him, of all people. but the longer he stayed, the harder it became to keep your defenses up. the weight of the day, the exhaustion, and the relentless pressure of everything finally caught up with you. you couldn’t hold back anymore.

before you even realized what was happening, you leaned against him. your body moved on instinct, and you pressed your face into his shoulder, the sobs breaking free as the tears fell hot and heavy.

to your surprise, peter didn’t pull away. he didn’t make a comment or a joke at your expense. instead, his arm came up, hesitating for just a second before wrapping around you. his grip was firm, and he pulled you in close—just enough for you to feel the warmth of his body against yours. he didn’t say anything, didn’t try to pry or ask questions. he just stayed there, silent and steady, letting you cry.

it wasn’t what you expected. peter was supposed to be cruel, detached, distant. but in that moment, none of that mattered. he was just there, holding you together when you felt like everything else was falling apart.

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, your body trembling from the release of everything you’d been holding inside. but eventually, the sobs began to subside, and you found yourself breathing a little easier, the storm inside you starting to calm.

you pulled away slightly, just enough to look up at him, your eyes still red and swollen from crying. “why do you do this?” you asked, your voice small and hoarse from the tears. you genuinely didn’t understand. “why do you… why are you here?”

peter’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something raw, something unguarded in his gaze. then, with a small, almost playful smirk, he shrugged. “don’t know what you mean,” he said, his voice soft but teasing. “you know i love you.”

the words were so simple, so casually said, that they took you by surprise. but there was no sarcasm in his tone, no bite to his words. he was sincere, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear as if the words were meant to be a secret shared only between the two of you. then, with a sudden rush of either reckless confidence or desperate longing, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss just behind your ear. the tenderness of it sent a shiver down your spine. “let me be here,” he whispered, his voice low and steady, though it carried a note of quiet vulnerability. he was trying to convey reassurance, but the raw emotion in his voice felt closer to a quiet, earnest plea. 

christina said that that was when you started staring. 

you’d seen a side of him you never thought to imagine and you craved for more. but he was peter hayes. he wasn’t supposed to feel anything. not for you, not for anyone. he tried to convince himself that as well as he savoured the feeling of your soft skin on his lips. yet, there he was, aching for something he couldn’t bring himself to ask for. something that made his heart race every time you was near, something that made him want to push you away and pull you closer all at once. your love.

he turned to you then, his hand brushing yours just barely, but it was enough to make his pulse quicken. you locked eyes, and for a second, and suddenly everything else that happened outside of the bathrooms faded away. he could feel your heartbeat in the air between you, the way your breath hitched, the way you wanted him to say something, anything. but he couldn’t. not yet. so he just sat there, his lips twitching into a smirk, masking everything he wasn’t ready to say.

christina’s expression shifted to one of knowing amusement, her eyebrow arching in a way that made it clear she wasn’t buying your story. "yeah, and yet here you are, still thinking about him. denial is just another form of obsession, you know."

"i am not obsessed," you snapped, a little too loudly. you tried to sound more forceful than you felt. but even to your own ears, the argument wore thin. the truth was, no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, peter had managed to engrave himself into your thoughts, lingering at the edge of your consciousness like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch.

christina’s hand landed on your shoulder, the gesture both comforting and teasing. her eyes held a mix of sympathy and amusement, as if she could see right through your carefully constructed facade. "sure, keep telling yourself that," she said, her tone light but tinged with a gentle sincerity. "but pretending isn’t the same as believing."

you didn’t respond, choosing instead to focus on your hands, which were twisting nervously in your lap. christina wasn’t wrong. the tension between you and peter was undeniable, a magnetic force that seemed to vibrate with an intensity everyone could feel when the two of you were near. 

glancing back at peter, you found him still observing you from across the pit. his gaze cut through the chaotic swirl of faces and noise, landing squarely on you with an intensity that felt almost tangible. it wasn’t just a casual glance; it was as if he was deeply engrossed, his eyes soft and thoughtful, carrying an unmistakable trace of what you dared call admiration. the smirk was gone now, replaced by an expression that seemed to reveal more than he usually let on—a look that made your heart flutter against your will. 

you shifted uncomfortably, unable to shake the feeling that his gaze was dissecting every fragment of your carefully guarded emotions. in that moment, the air between you felt charged, filled with something unspoken that neither of you were ready to confront. and even as you tried to look away, his eyes seemed to follow, holding a soft, thoughtful reverence that you found both disconcerting and oddly comforting.

you reminded yourself that, no matter how warm you felt under his gaze or how infatuated you were with him, peter was still peter—the same boy who had mocked your family’s dedication to order and laughed at others’ missteps under the guise of “honesty.” his usual sarcasm and cruelty were just parts of his carefully constructed facade, a shield designed to guard against any real vulnerability.

but the way he treated you was different now in dauntless. there was always a softness in his gaze, a subtle consideration that contrasted with his usual demeanor. it made you question if beneath his cold exterior, there was a part of him that genuinely cared, revealing a side of him that was far less indifferent than he let on. it made you wonder if he wasn’t as cold as he wanted everyone to believe.

regardless, you knew you would never, in every sense of the word, let yourself fall for peter hayes. he was supposed to be a horrible person.

… but on one particularly exhausting night, after another grueling day of training, you tossed and turned in bed, unable to find any solace in sleep. the unfamiliarity of dauntless gnawed at you, and the weight of leaving candor behind seemed to grow heavier with each passing hour. not that you’d ever blatantly admit it, but the new environment was overwhelming. despite your best efforts to adapt, the relentless pressure was starting to crack your composure.

in the dead of night, you awoke with a start, your heart pounding and a deep sense of unease settling over you. you stumbled out of bed, the darkness amplifying your anxiety as you wandered through the dimly lit corridors of dauntless. just as the silence seemed to stretch endlessly, a soft knock broke the stillness, echoing against the cold concrete walls. there, at the end of the hall, stood peter. he stood as tall as ever, but his touch was unexpectedly gentle. his hand brushed lightly against the small of your back, pulling you a bit closer, and the warmth of his skin contrasted sharply with the chill of the night air. 

though your eyes were still heavy with sleep, you could see the rare softness in his gaze, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor. “hey, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and raspy, but surprisingly soothing. “you okay?”

“just can’t sleep,” you mumbled, rubbing your tired eyes. you could’ve been meaner, you could’ve tried harder to push him away but you convinced yourself you were too tired to. 

even you knew you were lying. 

without a word, he guided you back to the rooms, his hand resting steady and reassuring on your waist. the warmth of his calloused skin against your arm was comforting, sending a shiver through you. your heart ached to lean more of your weight against him, to feel the full press of his body against yours. each touch felt intensely intimate, grounding you in a way that made your heart race. his calm presence was a soothing contrast to the cold, impersonal walls of dauntless.

as he guided you back to the room, his touch so comforting and warm, memories from your younger years resurfaced.

you recalled how, even then, there was a strange tenderness in the way he interacted with you, though he never showed the same kindness towards others. peter was always rough with the other kids, his teasing and taunting often crossing the line into childish cruelty. 

your mother had noticed, warning you to stay away from him, claiming he was a bad influence. she saw the way he bullied others and feared that his harshness would rub off on you. so, you had learned to hate him, to see only his rough edges and disregard his rare moments of gentleness. now, feeling his warmth and seeing the softness in his eyes, those old judgments felt shaky and uncertain. It must’ve been a trick—a game he was playing. but in that moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care, revelling in the way his skin brushed against yours.

as he helped you settle back under the covers, his touch was deliberate and achingly tender, causing a warm flush to spread through you. you wondered how you managed to muster enough hate to stay far enough away from him. the brush of his fingers against your skin, as he tucked the blankets around you, felt both intimate and possessive, sending a shiver of through your body. each contact, from his fingertips grazing your arm to his palm pressing gently on your shoulder, was charged with a longing intensity.

“you need to rest,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, nearly a whisper. his gaze lingered on you with a softness that was rare for him. before he turned to leave, he gently swept a few stray strands of hair from your face, his fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “it’s okay to be overwhelmed, sweetheart. we all are.”

you looked up at him, the tenderness of his touch and the care in his eyes sending a rush of warmth through you that made you slightly breathless. his eyes, usually so sharp, were softened by a rare, gentle affection that made your heart flutter. “thanks, peter. you didn’t have to.”

“yeah? well, i did,” he said, a crooked smile playing at his lips, his eyes twinkling with a touch of mischief. he held your hand in his and refused to let go, like he wasn’t ready to leave. you didn't want him to leave. “deal with it.” his voice was smooth, his tone almost too casual, as if the closeness was natural. as if he wasn’t acting completely out of character. his hand remained lingering by your jaw a moment longer than necessary, his touch longing like a secret between you.

you remembered early in high school, when peter had asked you out to the dance and confessed his feelings, saying he loved you. without hesitation, you’d turned him down, following your mother’s wishes. even then, he didn’t seem upset. instead, he simply promised that you’d end up loving him one day.

at the time, you didn't believe him, dismissing his words as just another piece of the game he constantly played. now, as you felt the warmth of his touch and the gentle care he’d shown, you couldn’t ignore the echoes of that past moment. you were falling for him. despite everything, you were falling for him. 

and after all that time, he was right.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice tired, and raspy, but caring. it summoned butterflies to your stomach. he said it like you were the only girl in the world. suddenly, you felt like you were in middle school again, getting flustered over a boy. your mother would be so disappointed.

“I don’t wanna talk ‘bout it,” you said, though your eyes betrayed you as they stayed locked with him. out of a force of habit you continued, “don’t wanna talk to you.” you didn’t mean it, of course.

he let out a tired, amused laugh before bringing your hand up to press a gentle kiss in the palm of your hand. you melted. “i love you anyway.”

threw 3.5k words on a tumblr post and called it a fanfic </3

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday @miles_teller #milesteller #actor #RabbitHole #Footloose #ProjectX #TheSpectacularNow #Divergent #Insurgent #Allegiant #Whiplash #FantasticFour #WarDogs #OnlytheBrave #ThankYouforYourService #TopGunMaverick #Spiderhead #TheGorge #TooOldtoDieYoung #TheOffer

[sstrawberriel]

don't know if I want miles teller or his wife more