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romanthesleepylizardking · 2 years

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happy birthday

Hey guys! I've been waiting to post this for a while, I'm literally at work posting this rn cause I'm so excited.

p.s. I have dyslexia. so when im re-reading my own stuff some typos will fly over my head, so if you see one please let me know so I can fix it!

Word count: I have no clue

“Eddie…”Eddie felt hands on his back, rubbing in soothing circles, in an attempt to wake him up. The sleepy Eddie quietly moaned in protest. “Eddie baby…” a voice called again, hands traveling up to his head, fingers getting lost in his long locks of hair, softly scratching his scalp. Eddie smiled in his sleep, loving the pleaser he was getting from the hands-on his body. One hand left his head and traveled down to his shoulder, the light touch of the fingertips dragging against his skin leaving goosebumps, Followed his arm that went under a pillow where his hand was found. Eddie could feel the fingers on the back of his hand as they pushed between his fingers, intertwining them. “ …Baby boy, you gotta wake up,” the voice said into his ear, he could feel breath on his face. The metal head knew the voice's owner calling his name and recognized the hands on his body.

Sleep still fogging his brain, Eddie quickly turned around and opened his eye, and saw nothing but the dark, cold, emptiness of his room. The metal head looks around his room in confusion “sweetheart?” he called, his voice dripping with sleep. Eddie sat up and swung his left onto the side of the bed, his feet flat against the floor of his room. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes Eddie looked around the room again “what the fuck..” then as the fog cleared his mind, the realization set in. He had been asleep and he had been dreaming. Eddie sighed and dropped his head into his hands. Disappointment had brewed deep into his heart.

The metal head had been dreaming of his long-term boyfriend, Y/n, who was currently 1000 miles away from Eddie, attending the college of his dreams. He was happy for his boyfriend, but he missed him more than anyone could understand. “Come on birthday boy wake up!” a voice called on the other side of his bedroom door and then a very loud knock followed right after it. “Birthday boy?”The metal head looked over the calendar to confirm that today was indeed his birthday. With a huff, he stood from his bed and made his way to the door, but it was opened before Eddie was anywhere near it.

On the other side was Steve and Dustin with party hats on their head that said “happy birthday!” with confetti printed all over it. Eddie stared at the two with a ‘really?’ look, and grabbed the shirt closest to him, which happened to be his hellfire shirt. Slipping it over his head he then saw Dustin and steve on one knee and Dustin presenting a crown to Eddie. The metal head looked at the crown in the younger boy's hands, the crown read ‘birthday boy’ on it in a fancy font.

“Your highness,” Dustin said as he moves the crown closer. Eddie rolled his eyes and grabbed the crown, placing it on his head, and smiled. Both boys stood up and smiled at the metal head “ok Eddie I got the whole day planned” Dustin started and grabbed Eddie by his wrist, pulling him out of his room and into the living room. Dusten sat the metal head on the couch, steve sitting right next to him. The youngest of the two stood in front of both of them and started to reveal his plan “ first: we are going to mikes house to get Lucas, mike, and max. then go to the family video and pick out the scariest movies to watch tonight……” the metal heads mind started to drift as the boy pased in front of them.

Eddie wondered about his boyfriend that was oh so far from him ‘i wonder when he's gonna call me ‘maybe he is still asleep, I am a few hours ahead of him’ Eddie mentally decided that that was definitely the reason…’ it been a few days since he last called me’ now he was digging himself in a hole. y/n usually called every other day and would call every morning on the weekends to tell Eddie good morning and have a small chat. ‘It's been about what… three-four days?’ Eddie was almost consumed with worry until he remembered the last time they talked “baby, I have exams, so im not gonna be able to call this week. But ill make it up to you…” Eddie nodded to himself as the worry drained out of his system.

y/n was in his bed, laying on his stomach, with a trail of droops in between his mouth and pillow. He was exhausted from the amount of studying he had to do to pass all his tests. Eddie could see it in his mind's eyes, thinking how cute he would be if Eddie saw it in person “...ending the night with the coolest movie and some awesome presents! Doesn't that sound like the most metal birthday party ever, dude!” Dustin finished, looking at Eddie with a wide smile and excitement plastered all over his face.

The metal head stared at the boy in front of him with blank stair and then glanced at Steve, who was already looking back at him, mocking the younger face, with his arms raised in the air, making jazz hands. Steve and Dustin both dropped their hands down “he wasn't even paying attention” Dustin announced as he looked away from Eddie, rolling his eyes with his whole head. “I can't believe he wasn't paying attention!” steve responded slightly louder than the other

Eddies eyes widen “What no guys!” Eddie looked back and forth between the two, his hands up in defense “i-i was paying attention I don't know what you're talking about!” he lied through his teeth., his voice going an octave higher “oh yeah? What did I say” Dustin challenged, his hands on his hips. The metal head's jaw dropped and he whipped his head to the side to look at the hair, his eyes wide. “What did he say?” steve echoed the other words

Eddie laughed and moved his gaze back to Dustin, who was still in the same pose as before “pssshh…you said…that were going to family video to get some cool movies!” he announced. When Dustin still didn't move, Eddie continued “then…then all of us are going to go…..” Eddie glanced at steve, silently begging him for the tiniest of hints. Steve caught the hint and sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head, shaking it in disappointment “...we’re going to meet nancy and robin at the mall and go to scoops ahoy-” something clicked in eddies brain as steve spoke, maybe he was paying a little attention “and the arcade, then bolling!” Eddie cut steve off, arms his arms in the air, and looked at Dustin with a smile.

Dustin sighed and looked at Steve, shaking his head “so ungrateful, right?” steve asked, also making looking a Dustin, shaking his head “I know right” the younger boy agreed, then looked at Eddie, staring at him, thinking. The metal head, almost on cue, widened his eyes and pouted, making a puppy dog face like a child “fine! I guess you're off the hook! Only because it's your birthday” Dustin snapped and looked away from him. Eddie cheered as he stood up and laughed, clapping his hands.

Steve stood up as well, patting his pants, and grabbing at his pockets, feeling for his keys. “Okay, use the bathroom, do some last-minute things, grab your stuff so we can go and grab the kiddos!” the hair said as he fished his keys out of his pocket. The metal head nodded, he used the bathroom, put his socks and shoes on, and grabbed his leather jacket and his custom denim vest. The other two had already exited the trailer and were in the car, chatting as they waited for the birthday boy. Eddie had made his wait to the door and glanced at the phone and stopped. Looking at it again he contemplated calling his boyfriend, just to hear his voice once on his birthday. He decided against it and he remembered that he was most likely catching up on lost sleep.

Eddie had dropped into the back of Harrington's car and closed the door once he was comfortably seated behind Dustin, patting the sides of his seat as he smiled. Steve started the car and put it in gear, speeding off to the wheeler household.

Eddie had a blast! He was able to get his favorite ice cream, that's usually out of stock, from scoops ahoy, he had won a lot of tickets and played a fuck tone of his favorite games, then to his favorite pizza place as a surprise before they when bowling. Eddie was having the time of his life with his friends, everything felt right. Being surrounded by people he loved and he knew loved him just the same made his heart feel full. Sadly, Eddie couldn't help but think of y/n, wondering if he called for him. If he did, Wayne would have answered and would have taken a massage, then would tell Eddie when the group showed up to spend the rest of the day.

Yup, that's what was going the happen, the metal head could feel it in the bones.

The birthday boy had a hell of a time bowling, they managed to squeeze four rounds of bowling, and Eddie had only one round of matches. First round, nancy won. seconds round, Eddie won. Third and fourth rounds, max won. After winning two rounds in a row Eddie declared max “high lord of bowling” and gave her a high five and hug “ nice job, red” the metal head complimented the girl “don't you mean ‘high lord of bowling’?” max mocked and Eddie laughed with her.

Now the group of teenagers had finally arrived at the trailer, they had Eddie walk inside last, when he was finally at the door frame, Eddie found the living room decorated, a cake and his uncle on a ladder holding a sign that read ‘Happy Birthday!’ “surprise!” everyone yelled and Eddie slightly jumped, laughed with excitement, and smailed “you guys…” he looked and everyone and opened his mars wide “come here” he beckoned. Everyone smiled and laughed as they crowded him into a hug.

Everyone dispersed from the hug “alright! Dustin? Can you pop in Friday the 13th?” Eddie asked, making fingers guns at the boy. Dustin made finger guns back and turned to the tv, getting the movie set up and ready. “Let's get this party started!” Eddie yelled as he made his way to the couch, everyone following suit. Dustin had got the movie started and found a comfortable spot in the group, “alright, im going to my room. call me when you'll wanna do a cake. I want pictures” Eddie's uncle instructed as he made his way to the hallway “Hey wait!” Eddie called, stopping Wayne in his tracks, looking back at the metal head. “Did y/n call?” he questioned, a hopeful look on his face. Wayne's shoulders dropped ad he looked at the boy's face and shook his head. Eddie's heart sank but nodded, putting a small smile on his face “okay. Thank you, Wayne, love you” “love you too, son. Happy birthday,” Wayne said before disappearing down the hall.

After finishing 3 of the 6 movies they rented they did cake, calling Mr.Munson before lighting the candle so he can pull out his camera and snap some photos “...Happy birthday to you!” everyone finished singing to Eddie, clapping and laughing. The birthday boy smiled and looked down at the cake. He closed his eyes and made a wish, blowing out the candle. His friends cheered for him. “Alright, let's eat some cake and you, my boy” Wayne started, painting at Eddie at the end “are gonna open some things we got for you” he finished, handing nancy the knife to cut the cake.

After opening gifts, Eddie loved every single gift he got, everyone started to steal down, getting compatible in different parts of the living room, but one by one everyone fell asleep, muttering a ‘happy birthday eds’ before drifting to sleep, but they waisted thi=eir breaths, Eddie was the first one to fall asleep.

The metal head jolted up when he felt a hand make hard contact with his chest, sitting up and frantically looking around “Eddie the door” a voice said from next to him. Eddie looked to see steve with one eye barely open. There was a soft knock coming from the front door. Eddie grunted and shoved steve “ you get it, it's my birthday” Eddie fell back down on his pillow “no it's not Munson… it's 1:43 am, making it not your birthday.” Harrington said and patted Eddie's shoulder.

The ex-birthday boy whined and got up off the couch, making his way to the door, another soft knock coming from the other side of the door. Eddie opened the door and looked outside on his front porch. It was raining, and it was coming down hard. The metal head stared at the boy with a balanced face, eyes showing off, and a number of emotions, his mouth ajar.

In front of Eddie had been the boy he was hurting to see. The one person that could have made his birthday better than it already was. Breathing hard and socked to the bone stood nonother then Y/n L/n, eddies boyfriend. “Happy Birthday,” the sopping wet boy said in between breaths, Eddie didn't move. “Im so sorry im late” the metal heads heart skipped a beat hearing the others voice clear as day. It made him feel like he was talking on air. Y/n brushed his hair back, eddie blushed at the sight.

“I hade this own plan to be here, on time, for your birthday. But my tire popped when I was just a town away." The boy continuedI had already used my spare a few months ago so I had to find a shop that had time to work on my car on short notice. When my car was ready, I was still 5 hours away and it was already 8.” y/n explained, guilt dripping from his words. The boy stared at Eddie, but the metal head said nothing. Eddie was so overwhelmed wish joys as he stared at the boy infront of him, frozen in place, terrified that this is just another he dream. So Eddie just gave a blank look.

y/n started to squirm under Eddie's gaze, fighting with his own hands. y/n couldn't read the emotion on the other face and it was driving him crazy. The boy had driven from California, across multiple states, for days just to end up right here, on Eddie's doorstep, to celebrate the birth of the one person he held so close to his heart. Eddie finally did something, letting out a very long exhale, like he was holding his breath. He opened his mouth to speak “I understand if you're mad” y/n had beaten the other to speak, his gaze moving from his boyfriend's blanc face to the ground “I didn't call” his voice had a quiver in it, but if the socked man was crying, was hard to tell from the rain. “I lied to you” Eddie moved forward, into the rain, letting the water fall onto him without a care in the world. y/n didn't notice as his gaze was still fixed on the ground.

“An I missed your birthday of all days and I…” y/n trailed off as eddies feet came into his line of sit, and looked back up. Before he was able to take in the view that is Eddie Munson, he felt arms around his waist, pulling him close, and lips on his own. The boy reacted by kissing back, wrapping his arms around the metal head's neck.

Eddie could feel the rain getting absorbed by his hair and clothes, but right now that was the least of his worries right now. All that mattered was the boy that was in his arms, the one person he craved, and he new it wasn't a dream, a dream never feels this real. When Eddie's lungs burned for air he, reluctantly, pulled away, resting his forehead on the others. They stayed silent, wrapped up in each other's arms, just soaking up each other's presence, not caring about the rain….well that was until y/n shivered. Eddie let go of the other and realized that they were still outside, in the freezing rain “come on” the wet metal head muttered, a big grin plastered on his face as he dragged the other inside.

Finally, inside the warm trailer, in Eddie's room so they don't wake any of the sleeping children, sat y/n and Eddie, in dry clothing, wrapped in each other's arms again “so you drove all the way here?” Eddie questioned as he ghosted his hand up and down the other arm. y/n nodded, playing with a strand of Eddie's hair, sitting on his lap." And I'm gonna have to drive all the way back" the boy yawned at the end. The metal head frowned and stopped the movement of his hand. That was right, the boy in his lap would have to go back to school in a few days "but I have a month and a half off of school, and I'm spending all of it" y/n paused and grabbed Eddie's cheeks, pulling his face toward his own, noses touching. The boy in Eddie's lap smiled at him and gave him a small kiss on the lips "with you" he whispered when he pulled away.

Hearing y/ns words Eddie squeezed his partner in a tight hug and fell down onto the bed. The metal head then proceeded to kiss all over the other face, making him squeeze and giggle. Landing one last long kiss on the other's lips; smiling into it. Pulling away Eddie whispered, "best birthday ever!"

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xgryffinwhore · 4 years

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september nights

request: i was wondering if you could write another soft bill smut? i don’t really have a specific plot in mind, we’re just really lacking content on tumblr rn :( in some really precarious place where they don’t want to get caught

warnings: soft smut, like i mean very soft.

word count: 2118

before your lips met bill denbrough’s, love was always, to say the least, a conundrum. lets be real for second, boys wasted your time, and you let them. only the cute ones of course. you are a hopeless romantic, drunk off of molly ringwald and john travolta films. you wanted any relationship you had to be just like the movies.

through your heart breaks, your best friends stood by you, your losers. eddie, richie, bev, stan, ben, and bill. for each tear you shed a punch was thrown to the man who caused it, they were protective over you. bill the most though, he always got so defensive when you were in the mix. all throughout middle & high school, bill has had to deal with every guy who even dares to think about breaking your heart.

“its not fair bill” you wailed into your pillow. he stroked your back and hushed you, his eyes welling with tears. “im never fucking good enough for any guy and its so fucking sad!” your complaints being cut off mid sentence by a choked out cry. “y-y/n. all of y-your boyfriend are i-idiots. anyone w-who would d-d-do this to you isnt w-worth your t-time. anyone w-would be the luckiest in the w-world to have y-you in their life” you picked your head up and looked at him with swollen lips and blood shot eyes “there no one out there for me bill, no one.”

he bit his lip, fighting back any tears dripping from his eyes “they j-just dont see how p-pretty you are. how g-gentle and caring and s-s-sweet, and h-how your face c-can light up any room. theyre f-fucking idiots, and you d-deserve m-more.” you clearly thought he was being nice, because you could take a MOTHER FUCKING GOD DAMN hint, so you replied “i wish there was someone out there like you, for me, that thinks of me the way you do.”

he furrowed his brows, tossing his head back and running his fingers furiously through his hair. “d-dammit y/n!” he cursed “cant you s-see what ive b-been trying to say? w-w-what ive been t-trying to say f-for the last f-five years!?!” your expression was bewildered, your brain was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what he meant. his frustration got the best of him, he got up and stormed out the door, feeling embarrassed and stupid for trying to make you understand how he felt.

he was half way out your front door, fuming for his keys lodged deep into his front pocket; when suddenly:

“bill!”

his head turned at the call of his name, “y-y/n please i d-”

smack.

your lips locked with his, he rain pouring heavily outside. bills lips stilled at the contact, but this lasted briefly, he deepened this kiss by pulling you in to his abdomen by your mid back. your bunched the front of his base ball t shirt with your fists, and he did the same but with your hair.

the rest is basically history.

now six months later, and you couldnt have been happier. bill knew how to treat you, nights out twice a week (you always wanted to pay but bill insisted,) holding your hand to and from classes, he let you borrow have his varsity baseball jacket, which smelt just like him and was a little too big for you.

when he would drop you off and your classes, he would always grab your hand and transfer a tiny piece of paper into your palm. when you got into class to unfold it, it was always a cute little message about his love for you.

bill had it bad for you, everyone knew that, and you loved every minute of it. he met every and any standard you had, and exceeded your expectations.

it was september, still warm enough in derry to wear shorts, so you and your friends thought of a last hurrah for the ending of the summery weather.

“camp out, its nearly perfect” Richie exclaimed. eddie rolled his eyes “like youve ever been near anything perfect toizer, do you even know what perfect means?” richie shoved eddie “yeah eddie i actually have. have you seen amanda’s tits?”

you tuned out richie and eddies bickering as you’re boyfriend cleared his throat. “you g-gonna go?” he said into your ear, “only if you promise to wear bug spray bill, you know how bad-” he cut you off with a kiss, his mouth forming a small smile at how cute you were. “get a room, honestly” stan poked, pda wasn’t his favorite... “at least i h-have something to k-kiss aye s-stannie”

you arrived at the edge of the forest, parking your car at the last parking ish space. you walked toward the sounds of ben and richie fighting, and came to see that richie really went all out. three tents, sticks for a fire, and more snacks than anyone needed.

you all spent the remanence of the daylight dancing in the light sky, sharing stories, and eating waaaay too many chips. it was dark now, you all huddled in a circle near the fire; making small talk and trying not to admit you were all very tired.

“ok folks, im off to bed” richie yawned “me stan eddie n’ mike will take the green tent, bev and ben in the red.” richie paused and smirked over at you and bill, you were tangled in his limbs, golfed in his navy blue pull over. “and uh- heh- billy boy and y/n in the yellow tent eh?” you could practically feel bills eye roll, god richie was so immature.

“w-we dont have to s-sleep in the s-s-same tent, i c-can ask ben if he’d s-switch” you look up at bill and reassure him “bill no- its not a big deal, right?” he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses the side of your temple “c-course not.”

you both went into the tent, bill began to unroll the blankets you both had packed tightly into your bags. You both set up your makeshift bed, bill leaned against a pile of pillows while you hugged his side, your face buried in his neck. his smell was absolutely intoxicating; his skin had remanence of his milk and honey body wash, but it was slightly overpowered by wintergreen, clove, and his bourbon cologne.

you were like this for around an hour, the orange crank-powered lantern being the only source of light. you switch positions though, you now laid your head on his lap, reading a magazine you stole from the hair salon. he watched your eyes scan every letter, when you read something funny you’d huff to yourself, and when something was intresting you stuck your tongue out from between your teeth. he adored you.

“d-dont stay up t-too late” he stroked your hair off your shoulder “we have t-to have you w-well r-r-rested.” you sat up from beside him, as he adjusted the pillows and took off his pull over, then his pants. he got under the covers and waited for you.

“nice donut boxers” you laughed. “s-shut up” he blushed and regreted not changing them when he had the chance. you turned around took off your shirt, you were shy about how you looked, but it was just bill. it was just bill. you heard his breath hitch, his eagerness radiating off his body onto yours. the air became tense as you unzipped your pants and threw them to the corner. you turned around, bills pupils growing until you were completely facing him.

“yeah i know. mine are boring” you laugh nervously, brushing your hair behind your ear and getting under the covers next to him. he didnt respond, he couldnt take his eyes off of you.you began to sit up again “i can go put back on-” “n-no!” he interrupts, his blush taking up his entire face.

“i j-j-just cant b-believe i g-get to see something s-so special” he gulped “s-so b-b-b-beautiful.”

you grabbed him by his shoulders and kissed him, hard. youve been with boys before, i mean youve dated plenty of people. but no one ever called your body special. hot, yeah. nice, yeah. beautiful, sure. but no one ever thought that it was special.

bill was a kind boy, the most you two have ever done is get each other off with your hands, always clothed. bill never asked to see more, he felt lucky enough just to make you feel good, and that was enough for him. so when you felt the heat of his hands hovering over your body but not touching it, you new you’d have to call the shots tonight.

“bill,” you laid down “just touch me everywhere, please.” he crawled in between your legs, kneeling so that he could lean over your face “m-my pleasure.”

he traced your collar, leaving small, delicate, kisses to make up for what his fingers left behind as they trailed. he kissed the valley between your breasts, licking slow striped down your skin. he picked up your upper back a little and cocked his head to the side, you nodded and he unclipped your bra. he sat their with his mouth open, taking in the view. you blushed and muttered “hey, keep that mouth to good use.” he dipped down and sucked on your nipples, his mouth felt so good against your skin grazed with goosebumps. he was gingerly with his tongue, it was sexy, it was romantic. he kissed down your stomach, his fingers sweeping down your sides. you could see his member pressing against his boxers, the pressure made him wince every once in a while. his fingers met your panties and he hooked them. again, he looked up for permission, you nodded once again.

he brought your underwear down your legs and off, looking back to see what he had relieved. he licked his lips, getting ready to please you more than he already did. but you felt bad, bill always gave gave and gave. “its ok, im ready right now.” bill looked up at you in shock, he wasnt expecting you’d want to go all the way. “y/n, y-youre sure?” you lean up and kiss his lips, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip “please.”

he pulled down his boxers eagerly, his member sprung out to hit his stomach. he lined up with you, checking once more that it was ok. then he pushed in, bottoming out. he felt bigger than you thought, of course he was well endowed, but he filled you up so well. you mewled, the pain and pleasure making a delicious feeling that made your toes curl.

he waited, but began slowly moving after a bit. he grunted, feeling you wrapped around him was something he’d never be able to get out of his head he thought to himself. he grunted “f-fuck this feels g-good’ he grunted, his breath becoming heavy and full of lust. with every stroke, you felt yourself get more and more lost in the bliss he made you feel. “youre making me feel so good bill” you moan, the sound of his name coming out of your mouth driving him absolutely crazy. he speeds up, loving the view of your face contorting in pleasure and your body moving with his.

he couldnt help but feel admiration to you, your hair formed a halo around your head, and the sweat that coated your skin made you glisten in the orange light. “im t-the luckiest in the world” he husks, holding your cheek.

you felt the knot in your core coming undone, “bill im close” you strain, trying not to be too loud so you dont wake your friends. he moved your leg up to his shoulder, hitting you from a different, deeper angle. his fingers went to your clit, making you bite your had to stop you from screaming. “you l-look so p-pretty y/n, t-taking me s-so well. making y-you feel so good.” “so good bill” you repeat, drunken off his cock and fingers.

without warning, you came came, your legs spazzing as you moaned “fuck bill” he followed, his hips stuttering, as he cried out into your shoulder. he pulled out and laid next to you, both of you breathing heavily and coming off your highs.

“y/n” he looked at you “t-that was really j-just wow- thank y-you.” you kissed him, chaste and sweet “that was great yeah?” “it w-was perfect babe. t-thank you f-for t-that. i love you y-y/n.”

“i love you too bill.”

he sat up, his fingers dancing on your inner thigh.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“c-can we p-please do t-that again?”

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough smut #bill denbrough x you #bill denbrough fanfic #IT movie #it fanfiction #it bill #jaeden martell #jaeden lieberher #jaeden wesley #jaeden x reader #jaeden martell x reader #jaeden martell smut #richie tozier #eddiekaspbrak #stanley uris

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woodlandpoetic · 6 years

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Can i sugg. A angsty one?? Maybe one where leon sleept with another woman or something like that? And then they fight ?? And it comes out he never did?? Idk i life for angst

Ohhhh more angsty stuff, yessss. Hmm, jealousy and a leap to conclusions…. we love an angsty imagine. You got it.

Also I’ve been sick with a chest cold for past couple of days, plus my back injury I’m a bit of a mess rn. I apologize for keeping you guys waiting, I didn’t expect my whole body to fail on me lmfao. IM SORRY TO KEEP YOU ALL WAITING ON YOUR REQUESTS ;-;

12pm, you haven’t heard a word from Leon since he left last night prior with an old friend of his. Lifting up your wine bottle, you poured another glass for yourself. Thinking this would keep you from constantly debating whether he’s been cheating on you or not— it just seemed to make the scenarios more overdramatized in your brain. Lifting up the glass to your lips, you took a swig— feeling your cat brush up against your arm.

“What if he is cheating on me, Cheshire?” Your cat sat on the center counter, watching you lean tipsily. Your cat titled it’s head, “He went out with that.. friend. And he’s told me she has feelings for him… but how she ‘understands he’s happy with who he’s with’ ugh.” You scoffed, taking another sip. Your cat just stared at you, his bright yellow eyes shinning from his black fur. “You get what I mean, right Chesh?” Cheshire didn’t do much, he just nudged his head against yours. He could tell you were stressed and worried, but at least he was a good listener. “Yeah, you do. My little baby.” Baby talking your cat, you rubbed your face on him— snuggling up to him.

Cheshire’s head popped up suddenly, eyeing the front door. You sluggishly lifted your head,

“What? There’s nobody th—“

The door slowly opened, you saw Leon walking in from behind the door. You could tell he’d been drinking, but not as bad as he used to be. You didn’t move, staying still your cat sat beside your wine glass— eyeing him as he tossed his jacket onto the sofa.

Looking over at Cheshire, you nudged him.

“Go. Don’t let him know I’m here.” Leaning closely to your feline friend, he leaped off the counter as he happily walked over to Leon’s feet. Quietly making your way to the other side of the counter, you turned one of the stools around— crossing your legs in that old fashioned stance.

You’re in deep shit, stance.

You watched Leon pick up Cheshire, holding him in his arms as he scratched his head.

“Where’s your mother?” Cheshire meowed, leaping from his arms as he walked back to you— causing him to turn and face you.

“Oohhh….” His voice trailed off, noticing the whole energy you were giving off by the way you presented yourself. Cheshire jumped back onto your lap, sitting forward to face Leon as well— he really took after his momma.

“Man, you’re awfully late.” You sneered, your jealousy shined brighter than your cocky stance. Leon sighed, he already knew where this was going without even giving it another thought.

“If you’re thinking I even—“

“Now why would I assume that?” You disagreed, he just stood there looking at you. Figures, he didn’t believe you— but it was worth a shot.

“I can tell by the way you’re sitting, {Y/N.}” He muttered, both of you being slightly inebriated wasn’t settling the sudden spark of assumption in your mind.

“Sooo, where did you guys go?” You scoffed, he eyed you closely— keeping his distance from you. Although it wasn’t much, about a foot or so away from one another.

“All we did was have a couple drinks at her place, and caught up on some lost time. Really?” He countered, but something hit you the wrong way.

“You were at her place?” Your gut sank, placing your glass on the counter. Now your cheating scenarios became more and more realistic, causing your tipsy emotions to take control of your common sense. You knew things were about to get ugly, but your sudden break in trust made you think otherwise.

“No, {Y/N.} Not like that.” His face read guilt in your eyes, although he just felt guilty for the way he worded it. He knew you struggled with trust issues, and drinking didn’t much help with that either. But, you felt yourself start to crumble little by little— as much as you tried fighting back with yourself with the little sobriety you had left.

“How am I suppose to take that?” You fumed, “You spent a whole night with this—this girl! The same one you told me has feelings for you!” Taken back by your sudden raised tone, he stepped closer to you— starting to get annoyed himself.

“What do you think I did, {Y/N}?! Go ahead, tell me!” He retaliated, your teeth clenched as you stood up from your seat.

“I’d rather not think about what you did.” You retorted, Leon staring at you in disbelief. Silence filled between you two, only raising your panic-induced anger at him coming home a day after going out.

Instead of saying another word, you walked past him towards your bedroom. Your eyes filled with tears, you felt as if your fears were proven right just by his sudden defensive stance. He was gone all night, with this girl, who was obviously very fond of him and you knew that, and just the thought of him being at her house all that time— your stomach twisted so tightly you felt nauseated.

“I hope it was fucking worth it.” You seethed, not even realizing Leon was following behind you the whole time— trying to get a hold of you.

“Dammit, {Y/N}!” He roared, grabbing your arm. Not angrily, but with purpose. He wanted you to stop walking away from him. Turning you completely around, he immediately pulled you to him— leaning down to you.

“Leon—!—mmnn—“

He didn’t give you a solid second to finish your words, locking you in a passionate kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed, he let go of your arm— allowing you to reach up to run your fingers through his hair.

“Did you?” You breathed, pulling back slightly. “Did you sleep with her?”

“No.” His voice was raspy, locking eyes with you. Pulling you up against him, “I love you, {Y/N.} Nobody could steal your throne in my life, you know that.” A shiver fell down your back, “I love you.” Gasping at the sudden pull against him, your eyes grabbing for one another.

“I’m not finished with you yet, though.” You cajoled, your nails gently gliding down his neck to the opening in his shirt.

“Get over here, then.” He purred, pulling you down onto the sofa.

#imagine #requested imagine #angsty imagine #angst imagine #leon kennedy #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy vendetta #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil biohazard #resident evil vendetta #re2 remake #my writings #anon #answered

162 notes · View notes

vaalinors · 7 years

Text

you’re the anchor (that i tied to my brain)

Edward Elric to the last jedi 9 pm DON’T BE FUCKING LATE IM TALKIN TO U YAO: pray tell where the fuck is my brother

Edward Elric: it is 8 o fucking clock

Edward Elric: im locked the fuck out of the house

Edward Elric: and al STILL ISN’T BACK FROM HIS GODFUCK SHITHOLE DATE

Paninya: ed take a deep breath n hurl urself into a pond or smth

Paninya: als been freakin out about mei for at least 38478392 years now

Paninya: let him relieve his thirst

Paninya: AND BTW THIS IS UR OWN DAMN FAULT

Edward Elric: how in The FUCK???? is this MY FAULT??????

Paninya: u couldve had a perfectly gross dorm on campus bUT NO U HAD TO BE BOUJEE N RENT AN APARTMENT WITH UR BROTHER

Edward Elric: IM ONLY LOCKED OUT BC AL LOST HIS GODDAMN KEY AND I

Edward Elric: BEING THE SAINTLY BROTHER THAT I AM

Ling Yao: w0w thats a lie

Edward Elric: GAVE HIM MINE AND NOW I GOTTA SCREAM AT HIM TILL HE PUTS HIS TONGUE BACK IN HIS OWN MOUTH AND COMES THE FUCK BACK

Winry Rockbell: u reeaaallly dont gotta

Paninya: have u heard??? of this thing??????

Paninya: called????? pm?????????????

Paninya: bc its a thing u could use to bitch at al without annoyin the entire shit outta the rest of us

Ling Yao: lol lan fans at her grandpas rn and her phone cant be put on silent

Ling Yao: shes going to kick ur ass

Edward Elric: IM gonna kick ALS ass if he doesnt show up in the next half hour I DONT CARE IF HES ON A FUCKIN DATE

Ling Yao: may i remind u my sister is the girl ur brothers currently wooing

Ling Yao: u do that and lan fan wont be the only one kicking ur ass

Edward Elric: what think u can take me weakLing

Ling Yao: uh duh but i was talking about mei

Edward Elric: PLS shes what half a foot tall????? PLSSSSSSS

Lan Fan: so twice as tall as you

Edward Elric: DO,,,,,U WANT,,,,,,.,TO FUCKING DIE,,,,,,,.,.,,,,

Lan Fan: edward

Lan Fan: i am at my grandfathers house

Lan Fan: my phone is ringing so loud my neighbors think their doorbells r broken

Lan Fan: my grandfather is ready to smash it into oblivion

Lan Fan: if he does we WILL be reliving 3/10 and youll be tasting a lot more than just your stomach acid when im done with you

Lan Fan: do not make me sneak out of training to answer you again

Paninya: Rekt™

Ling Yao: mic drop

Edward Elric: psh whatever

Edward Elric: u fuckers think 3/10 scared me

Edward Elric: GUESS FUCKING AGAIN

Edward Elric: FUCKING C O M E A T M E

Paninya: o look shes typing

Edward Elric: anyway im gonna pm al goodnight and thank u

Winry Rockbell to is it gay to want to literally drink ushers voice: OI AL how was the date

Winry Rockbell: I WANT DETAILS

Edward Elric: if anyone wants to know how to be the Creepiest Fucking Person Ever

Edward Elric: talk to winry

Winry Rockbell: well seeing that i won best ed impression two years in a row now id say i do indeed know

Edward Elric: HAR DE HAR

Edward Elric: u think u fucking know me???

Alphonse Elric: Is it hard?

Paninya: yea all u rlly gotta do is yell fuck a lot

Alphonse Elric: Put ur hair in a braid with one obnoxious ass strand sticking right up

Winry Rockbell: dont forget u have to crouch down

Winry Rockbell: i recommend kneeling

Edward Elric: dont think i cant deck all u shitdicks

Ling Yao: ive just annoyed the info out of my sister

Ling Yao: it seems al is quite the casanova

Ling Yao: clearly not a family trait BUT

Edward Elric: i will piss in ur backpack

Ling Yao: case in point

Ling Yao: ANYWAYS UPDATE ON THE BET FRONT

Ling Yao: as im sure u all know ned, roy mustang and i have had an ongoing wager AKA who can wrangle the most freshies into joining his club

Ling Yao: well as of today the martial arts/dance troupe has 20 more members

Edward Elric: BULLSHIT

Ling Yao: and i believe that pulls me ahead of ned to tie evenly with mustang

Ling Yao: and really would any of u choose archery over martial arts??

Paninya: tbh i choose social life over any clubs but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Edward Elric: basic bitch

Paninya: u kno it

Paninya: but srsly wtf shifty how did u get 20 new members so fast

Lan Fan: he showed off and gave his number out to like half of them

Ling Yao: :O how could u EXPOSE ME LIKE THIS

Ling Yao: I tRuSTeD YOu

Lan Fan: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Edward Elric: just u fuckin wait ling

Edward Elric: ill leave both u asshats in the GROUND

Alphonse Elric: I mean first u have to

Alphonse Elric: Yknow

Alphonse Elric: Be taller than the ground

Edward Elric: I LIVE WITH U I CAN MAKE UR LIFE FUCKING MISERABLE U HEAR

Winry Rockbell to kyle ron WHOMST???: so about laser tag this weekend

Winry Rockbell: invite lings sister yay or nay

Lan Fan: why not

Rosé Thomas: It’d even us out

Rebecca Catalina: does it even matter tbh we all kno whichever team rizas on is gonna win

Riza Hawkeye: Catalina i resent that statement

Rebecca Catalina: pls point to me where thE LIE IS HAWKEYE

Winry Rockbell: ok then

Winry Rockbell added Mei Chang to the chat

Paninya: EY UVE JUST BECOME PART OF THE MESS THAT IS US SOPHS

Maria Ross: and a few seniors

Paninya: WE’RE BASICALLY A KPOP GROUP BUT BETTER (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

Lan Fan: ok we’re going laser tagging this weekend you in

Mei Chang: i feel like i may die if i say no so as long as my idiot brother isn’t going i’m in

Paninya to could u actually perhaps makin bacon pancakes: [DELETED MESSAGE]

Ling Yao: wot

Alphonse Elric: Whos going laser tagging

Winry Rockbell: pan ffs

Paninya: (◔◡◔✿)

Edward Elric: fuckin RUDE

Lan Fan to Panko: what is it

Panko: i have no idea what u mean my dear

Lan Fan: uve been typing for an hour now AND i can hear your teeth grinding from my room

Panko: i have no idea what u could be referring to my sweet

Panko: i just wanna kno how ur days been

Lan Fan: this is about ling isnt it

Panko: dear

Panko: u used an emoji

Panko: u never use emojis

Lan Fan: look i get that youre just looking out for me

Lan Fan: but its fine and so am i

Lan Fan: i really dont need a pity heart to heart

Lan Fan: besides hed give out his number to everyone in the world if he could thats just who he is

Panko: well ur not wrong

Panko: is it bad to say im so glad i rarely have to deal with bois

Lan Fan: girls can be idiots too

Panko: ppl in general usually r

Alphonse Elric to WE CANT KEEP DOWN ALL THAT VODKA ON KRAFT MAC N CHEESE: So i cant feel

Ling Yao: mY FACE WHEN IM WITH U

Alphonse Elric: That and the rest of my body

Alphonse Elric: How is one person so funny and sweet and amazing

Paninya: MY SON HES IN LOVE YALL

Paninya: ITS TRUE FUCKIN LOVE

Paninya: ELRIC 2.0 TEXT ME IF U NEED ANYTHIN

Paninya: CONDOMS

Winry Rockbell: oh god

Paninya: BIRTH CONTROL

Edward Elric: PAN WHAT THE FUCK U THINK AL KNOWS WHAT A CONDOM IS

Paninya: HE IS A HORNY TEENAGE BOI I BET U MY ENTIRE ASS HES USED ONE BEFORE

Lan Fan: PANINYA

Mei Chang: uh

Paninya: oh fuck

Ling Yao: mei so it was U that made that balloon fart noise just now

Lan Fan: ling kindly shut up

Edward Elric: SO AL ISNT BREATHING I THINK HES DEAD

Edward Elric: HES BEEN STARING AT HIS PHONE FOR 10 MINS NOW FUCK WHAT DO I DO

Paninya: CALL 911 U MORON

Lan Fan: where do you live i know CPR

Ling Yao: thats hot

Winry Rockbell: MEI PRETEND U CANT READ

Mei Chang: er i can’t read suddenly i don’t know

Ling Yao: (╯°□°)╯now she gives in to the memes

Edward Elric: ok nvm hes alive

Edward Elric: buT I M NOT GONNA BE FUC KBRB RUNNINGgh

Paninya: rip in peace

Alphonse Elric to how Extra™ do u gotta be to come up with fuccboi: So we’re still down for gta tomorrow right

Alphonse Elric: Ed cant make it because i killed him

Ling Yao: the old ed cant come to the phone right now

Ling Yao: why

Edward Elric: because hes going to cut off lings fucking elbows

Roy Mustang: can you even reach his fingers

Edward Elric: listeN HERE U liL SHIT

Alphonse Elric kicked Edward Elric from the chat

Ling Yao: thats cold

Ling Yao added Edward Elric to the chat

Roy Mustang: i knew it couldnt last

Edward Elric: if any of u polefucks ever want to know how to get ling to do something bother lan fan

Ling Yao: try it again and i will Key Your Face

Ling Yao: she has a physics test tomorrow

Alphonse Elric: Wow

Roy Mustang: :O

Jean Havoc: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Edward Elric: i got the beer for tmr night

Alphonse Elric: Damn right u do im not letting u in otherwise

Edward Elric: ignore asshurt over here hes pissed i embarrassed him in front of his date

Roy Mustang: at least he has one

Jean Havoc: yeah have u ever had a girlfriend edward??

Denny Brosh: Do you know what a woman is ned????

Edward Elric has left the chat

Ling Yao to Good Shit ✔💯: hey lan fan

Ling Yao: LAN FAAAAAN

Good Shit ✔💯: what

Ling Yao: guess who i just saw in chem doodling one miss rockbells name on his hw

Good Shit ✔💯: no

Ling Yao: oh yes

Ling Yao: i wanted to take a pic but ed decided to be a good student and tore it off before handing it in

Good Shit ✔💯: does he even try in chem

Ling Yao: no but at least he doesnt fall asleep like he does in lit

Good Shit ✔💯: hemingway puts everyone to sleep

Good Shit ✔💯: read some brontë or steinbeck

Good Shit ✔💯: id say dickens too but anti Semitism and all

Ling Yao: i love it when u talk lit to me

Ling Yao: reminds me of when u used to sneak into our library and read the biggest books u could find

Good Shit ✔💯: better than you climbing up the side of my house to sneak into my room

Ling Yao: pls u loved it

Good Shit ✔💯: debatable

Good Shit ✔💯: club meetings today dont forget

Ling Yao: how can i ur always here to remind me ;)

Winry Rockbell added Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye, Jean Havoc, Maria Ross, and Rebecca Catalina to ROSE TYLER DEFENSE SQUAD WHERE YALL AT

Winry Rockbell: just so we’re clear friday nights a byob sitch

Lan Fan: well wade was totally off

Ling Yao: atta girl

Paninya: wow and here i was thinkin byob meant bug ur own business

Edward Elric: what the utter fuck

Alphonse Elric: Dont act coy u LIVED a bugs life ed

Winry Rockbell: BRING YOUR OWN BOTTLE CAPICHE

Winry Rockbell: jesus now ive got the kim possible theme song stuck in my head

Edward Elric: if one of u picks yoshi i will e n d u

Paninya: no promises n its not our fault yoshi pushed ur fool ass off mushroom gorge that one time

Rebecca Catalina: LMAOOO

Edward Elric: that demonic fucking dinosaur needs to go extinct

Roy Mustang: since brosh doesnt give a shit do we want to make this a floor thing

Ling Yao: i see what ur doing mercedes benz u sneak ass

Roy Mustang: you caught up yao i can finally start trying

Edward Elric: news flash fuckers i got 5 more ppl today u can both suck my ASS

Winry Rockbell: ok but keep it small

Lan Fan: ,,,,,,,

Maria Ross: this is why timing’s important kids

Ling Yao: how much smaller could his butt get

Roy Mustang: are we even be able to locate it

Rebecca Catalina: does ned even have a torso????

Edward Elric: I HOPE U ALL ROT IN HELL

Paninya changed the chat name to eds ass is bigfoot pass it on

Winry Rockbell to Mulan but Better: is it weird that i cant stop smiling at ed

Winry Rockbell: hes sleeping in the chair across from me

Mulan but Better: a bit

Winry Rockbell: yeah

Winry Rockbell: hes such a nerd

Mulan but Better: but hes your nerd

Roy Mustang changed the chat name to WHO TE HFUCKS IDEA WAS IT O MAKE THIS AFLOOR THING

Edward Elric changed the chat name to URS U FUCKING CURLY STRAW

Paninya to wubba lubba dub dub: all of u need to see this Spicy™ video of ed from last night

Winry Rockbell: pan its 9 fucking am

Winry Rockbell: who tf is up that cares

Paninya: o dont u worry winnie the pooh

Lan Fan: yep shes still drunk

Paninya: i think ed will when he stops groaning in the bathroom there

Paninya sent a video in the chat

Paninya: srsly im postin this on ig later

Winry Rockbell: SHIT thats loud

Alphonse Elric: What the fuck is that

Riza Hawkeye: Is

Riza Hawkeye: Is he singing mad world

Paninya: u bet ur blonde ass he is

Lan Fan: was this after we took turns playing yoshi and demolishing him in mario kart

Paninya: u bet ur toned ass it was

Winry Rockbell: paninya i can barely hear anything over u shouting STRIP STRIP STRIP in the bg

Ling Yao: edward really is tone deaf isnt he

Ling Yao: oh hes stopped puking

Ling Yao: hes looking at his phone

Alphonse Elric: Rip in peace our bloodshot eyes

Edward Elric: wHAT THE ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS IS THAT

Edward Elric: WHAT THE ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS

Edward Elric: WHAT THE ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS DID U ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS DO TO MY PHONE

Ling Yao: HAHAHAHA OH MY GOD

Roy Mustang: dear jesus what is happening

Paninya: oH MY WHICH ONE OF U DID THIS

Paninya: I WILL K I S S U

Mei Chang: there is way too much shouting this goddamn early in the morning

Ling Yao: while u were busy cackling over that video i may or may not have convinced lan fan to steal eds phone

Edward Elric: U ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS BETTER ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS FIX MY ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS PHONE OR IM ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS

Jean Havoc: hes like an infuriated duck with a lisp

Roy Mustang: siri what is the tiniest species of duck

Edward Elric: U WANNA ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS FIGHT

Paninya: pls tell me one of u hungover fucks is gettin this on video

Mei Chang: lan fan u okay?

Lan Fan: yeah too much shouting i have a headache

Lan Fan: add me back when ed calms down (◕ ‿ ◕✿)

Lan Fan has left the chat

Paninya: hey ed ill bet even yoshi can say fuck

Edward Elric: FOR ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAAAAR FAAAAACEESSS SAKE

Lan Fan to Guns n Roses: hey

Lan Fan: i dont know where you are rn

Lan Fan: im still sort of hungover and i kind of need someone to talk to who isnt going to get angry or

Lan Fan: try and rationalize everything and well

Lan Fan: do you ever just wish that things could change

Lan Fan: that you could be someone entirely different or that you could get out and leave and not give a damn about anything or anyone or

Lan Fan: because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Guns n Roses: Okay i was at work but i’m coming back right now

Guns n Roses: And i’m going to get you tea and you’re going to tell me whatever you want to tell me okay??

Lan Fan: thanks

Paninya to ID SING OH CANADA TOO IF MY PM HAD AN ASS LIKE THAT: ok but for real

Paninya: dicks r like mushrooms

Paninya: little funny gross mushrooms

Rosé Thomas: Paninya you’re high go home

Paninya: oh sweet flower i wish i was

Winry Rockbell: its 4 fucking am GO TO SLEEP

Paninya: time is an illusion

Paninya to TRICKY tricky TRICKY tricky: i crave the sweet release of death

Edward Elric: FUCKING KARMA

Winry Rockbell: i could hear u playing music at 5 am again today why tf have u been up so late

Paninya: my roommate was screaming french at me

Paninya: she has a test today

Paninya: also

Paninya added Lan Fan to the chat

Paninya: LAN FANNNNNNNN

Lan Fan: i didnt do the psych hw paninya

Lan Fan: and run-dmc doesnt deserve this subpar treatment

Alphonse Elric: Lan fan

Alphonse Elric: Lings been looking for u

Lan Fan: i know its ok dont worry about it

Edward Elric: A FUCKING BIRD JUST SHAT ON MY HEAD

Paninya: what was that????? u said???????

Paninya: about karma?????????

Edward Elric: WHAT IS THIS LITERAL SHIT ON ED DAY

Lan Fan: is that not everyday

Edward Elric: I WILL FIGHT ALL U ASSDICKS

Lan Fan: 3/10 edward

Edward Elric: i will fight me for only i myself am the one assdick here thank u amen and goodbye

Lan Fan to Literal Monkey™: so i hear you were looking for me

Literal Monkey™: that depends

Literal Monkey™: what did i do lan fan

Literal Monkey™: did i say something

Literal Monkey™: tell me what i did that made you so upset at me

Literal Monkey™: if i did something im sorry i really am but you cant just disappear and not even tell me whats wrong

Lan Fan: i know

Lan Fan: it wasnt you i just

Lan Fan: my grandfathers relapse and its been rough with classes lately

Lan Fan: it kind of hit me that i cant always afford to be chill all the time

Lan Fan: sorry ive been mia

Literal Monkey™: well now i feel like a dick

Literal Monkey™: ur my best friend lan fan and i think ive gotten so used to u being near i freak out when ur not

Literal Monkey™: i guess it kind of says something about me that might not be a good thing

Literal Monkey™: especially since i climbed the side of ur house to see if u went back home and u werent there

Lan Fan: you w h a t

Ling Yao to Frying Pan: in hindsight

Ling Yao: i prob shouldnt have told her about the climbing

Ling Yao: shes not talking to me again

Frying Pan: u done fucked up boiii

Ling Yao: so will u tell me whats really wrong with her now

Frying Pan: not a chance boiii

Winry Rockbell to Wannabe Alchemist: hey i know its kind of sudden

Winry Rockbell: and u prob have other things to do

Wannabe Alchemist: nah im free shoot

Winry Rockbell: could u maybe come with me this weekend

Wannabe Alchemist: …are u sure

Wannabe Alchemist: i mean of course ill go hell even if i had a meeting with the goddamn president id skip it to go anywhere with u

Wannabe Alchemist: but i dont want to overstep my right or anything

Winry Rockbell: no ed u could never impose

Winry Rockbell: its just been kind of a shit year

Winry Rockbell: i dont know if i can handle going to visit them alone this time

Wannabe Alchemist: dont worry im there for u

Wannabe Alchemist: whatever u need

Winry Rockbell: i

Winry Rockbell: thanks ed

Wannabe Alchemist: theyd be proud of u win

Winry Rockbell: :)

Winry Rockbell: not to degrade ur sentiment or anything because damn ed u can be sweet

Winry Rockbell: but id do buttfuck anything besides meet with our president

Wannabe Alchemist: i read that as u would butt fuck anything but shit u right

Mei Chang to “3/10 WASNT EVEN THAT BAD” famous last words: paninya was that you outside my school trying to sell taylor swift tshirts

Lan Fan: paninya what the hell

Paninya: ok HS GIRLS EAT TSWIFT UP

Mei Chang: you looked stalkerish as hell my principal was going to call the police

Winry Rockbell: just burn them in a rusty can like the ratchet ho u are

Paninya: what is This Disrespect™ n pls im not gonna burn them that merch cost me lk 984759 bucks

Lan Fan: sounds fake but ok

Ling Yao: and why tf would u sell them taylor swift is finally getting interesting

Winry Rockbell: yeah shes finally being savage af isnt this what u signed up for

Paninya: hey i signed up for Drama Taylor

Paninya: this is just plain whoring for attention

Alphonse Elric: Not sure those terms are mutually exclusive

Edward Elric: HOLY FUCK

Lan Fan: speaking of whoring for attention

Edward Elric: I GOT MUSTANG TO PLAY LEAGUE

Edward Elric: went straight for brand the dumb fucking pyromaniac

Alphonse Elric: Can i just remind u that ur first time ur jerk ass went right for garen

Edward Elric: GAREN is a PERFECTLY FUCKING GOOD CHAMPION TO GO FOR WHEN UR A NOOB DUMBASS

Alphonse Elric: Sounds fake but ok

Ling Yao: and a bit like neds trying to compensate for something

Edward Elric: U ALL AINT SHIT

Lan Fan: its yaint

Ling Yao: u uncultured fuck

Paninya: k first of all lol is a game for 13 year old prepubescent boys

Lan Fan: so perfect for edward

Edward Elric: DONT FUCKING TRY U KNOW UR A HO FOR AKALI

Edward Elric: ,,,,,,,,dont say 3/10 u know i would rather fucking die

Lan Fan: then perish

Alphonse Elric: Ed did U make that whale noise

Winry Rockbell: the real question here is paninya???? can actually spell???????? words???????? whAT??????

Paninya: SECOND OF ALL any of u want tswift shirts hmu (◡‿◡✿)

Edward Elric: taylor swift is fucking great why the fuck would u sell them

Winry Rockbell: ………..

Alphonse Elric: ……………………

Paninya: ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Lan Fan changed the chat name to ill take edward elric is fake Punk Rock™ for 800 alex

Edward Elric: OI U CAN BE PUNK ROCK AND STILL LISTEN TO GUILTY PLEASURE POP

Winry Rockbell: SOUNDS FAKE BUT OK

Rosé Thomas added Mei Chang, Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric, Roy Mustang, and Riza Hawkeye to Unnamed

Paninya changed the chat name to PROJECT LINGFAN

Paninya: ALRIGHT LISTEN UP

Alphonse Elric: What the hell is lingfan

Paninya: PLS WITHHOLD ALL QUESTIONS TILL THE END OF THE BRIEFING MY PRECIOUS CHILD

Winry Rockbell: she continues??? to spell????? correctly???????? what i am amazed?????????????

Paninya: ROCKBELL FULL OFFENSE STFU

Winry Rockbell: rude

Paninya: SO EVERYONE HERE KNOWS OUR GOOD FRIEND LING YAO AKA SHIFTY AKA MONKEY BOI AKA CO-PRES OF THE MARTIAL ARTS/DANCE TROUPE YEA

Mei Chang: if i say no can i leave

Paninya: AND EVERYONE ALSO KNOWS MY SPICY GIRL LIGHT OF MY LIFE LAN FAN AKA DEFINITION OF BADASS AKA EDS WORST NIGHTMARE AKA CO-PRES OF THE MARTIAL ARTS/DANCE TROUPE YEA

Edward Elric: she is not my worst fucking nightmare

Mei Chang: so you don’t turn into a stuttering baby every time she brings up 3/10

Edward Elric: U WERENT THERE U DONT FUCKING K N O W

Paninya: AND EVERYONE HERE KNOWS THAT THOSE 2 HAVE THE BIGGEST RAGING BONERS FOR EACH OTHER THAT ANYONES EVER FUCKIN SEEN YEA

Winry Rockbell: i feel like there was a better way of putting that

Edward Elric: wait hold THE FUCK UP ur fucking with me right

Roy Mustang: yes edward

Roy Mustang: she made an entire separate chat and invited all these people just so she could fuck with you

Alphonse Elric: Thats literally what the normal group chat is for wtf ned

Edward Elric: what the UTTER FUCK???? LING AND LAN FAN????????

Rosé Thomas: You were right winry he’s blind

Alphonse Elric: Dude how the hell are u so ignorant

Riza Hawkeye: Edward are you really unaware of this

Edward Elric: HOW DO U ALL KNOW ABOUT THIS WHAT THE FUCK

Roy Mustang: id ask if you saw them at the floor party but i remembered you were too busy practicing for your x factor audition

Paninya: OK ED SINCE UR CLEARLY THE OBLIVIOUSEST FUCKING PERSON ON THE FACE OF THE GODDAMN PLANET

Winry Rockbell: obliviousest

Winry Rockbell: i knew it wouldnt last

Paninya: LET ME JUST HIT U WITH SOME EXAMPLES

Paninya: LAN FAN NEVER BLUSHES UNLESS U MENTION LING TO HER AND THEYVE KNOWN EACH OTHER SINCE C H I L D H O O D

Paninya: WHEN LAN FAN SHATTERED HER ARM IN FRESHMAN YEAR LING CARRIED HER HALFWAY TO THE DAMN HOSPITAL AND SLEPT NEXT TO HER SICKBED FOR THE ENTIRE WEEK SHE WAS THERE

Roy Mustang: he threatened to and i quote ‘key your face’ if you bothered her again

Winry Rockbell: lan fan only shattered her arm that time because some dumbass thugs tried to jump ling in order to threaten his dad

Mei Chang: whenever lan fan doesnt answer him right away he gets all huffy and paces for hours and checks his phone like 500 times until she replies LIKE SHE ALWAYS DOES

Paninya: LITERALLY TODAY OK RIZA CAN CONFIRM IM WALKIN TO MEET LAN FAN FOR PSYCH AND I SEE HER PRACTICING A FUCKING KARATE MOVE OR SOME SHIT WITH LING ON THE QUAD

Paninya: SHE STARTS LAUGHING AND I SWEAR ON MY FANTASTIC ASS LING STARES AT HER FOR 10 WHOLE MINS

Paninya: SHES BENDING HIS LEG FARTHER THAN ANY LEG SHOULD BEND AND HES LOOKING AT HER LIKE SHES THE ONLY DAMN THING WORTH KNOWING IN THE ENTIRE FUCKIN UNIVERSE

Paninya: THIS HAS BEEN HAPPENIN FOR YEARS I CANT EVEN WITH THEIR UNNECESSARY ANGST ANYMORE

Paninya: THEY NEED TO GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER BEFORE I ACTUALLY FUCKIN EXPLODE JFC (╯✿◕益◕)╯︵ ┻━┻

Riza Hawkeye: That is indeed what happened

Rosé Thomas: And that’s why we made this chat

Rosé Thomas: So all of you can experience our pain

Edward Elric: ,,,,,,

Alphonse Elric: Seriously wtf is a lingfan

Mei Chang to pacific rim uprising is the sequel we didnt know we wanted and always needed no one fight me on this: you all know my name is mei right

Paninya: first time im hearin it

Mei Chang: because my calc teacher doesnt

Winry Rockbell: oh god what does he call u

Mei Chang: literally ‘mee’

Edward Elric: RIP IN FUCKING PEACE

Paninya: wot in tarnation

Ling Yao: u mean wot in pronunciation

Mei Chang: mee-eye is okay and mYE sure but MEE

Paninya: dw a teacher called me panYEA once lk??? bless u????

Edward Elric: omfg PETITION TO CALL PANINYA PANYEAH FROM NOW ON

Lan Fan: panno

Winry Rockbell: a teacher called me wine-ry in fifth grade like how in the actual fuck could u mess win-ree up

Edward Elric: maybe bc u were indeed hella whiny

Winry Rockbell: at least she knew i was there u were too smol to see over the table

Alphonse Elric: Better loud than nonexistent

Edward Elric: GTFO AL I WAS FUCKING TALLER THAN U

Paninya: “was”

Mei Chang: in any case i’m done trying to correct him hello yes my name is mee

Ling Yao: and wen it nite

Paninya: wtf r u on ling yao n where can i get some

Winry Rockbell: its another fucking meme i stg lan fan pls control this boy

Lan Fan: the kalc teachre cannt saye it rhite

Ling Yao: vINdICatION

Edward Elric to PROJECT LINGFAN: fuck this they gotta be in love

Winry Rockbell to Mulan but Better: hey theyre selling stroop waffles outside the bio building

Winry Rockbell: i can grab some for u if ur in class

Winry Rockbell: wait is that u in line

Winry Rockbell: are u wearing a lab coat

Winry Rockbell: u ran out of class didnt u

Winry Rockbell: did u not even bother to take off ur goggles u look like a nerdy terminator

Winry Rockbell: how many are u buying holy shit ARE U STUFFING THEM IN UR LABORATORY COAT POCKETS

Winry Rockbell: DID U JUST N A R U T O R U N OUT OF THE QUAD

Mulan but Better: why are you still asking me you know the answers yes

Roy Mustang to My Queen™: theyre selling stroop waffles right now

My Queen™: Has ling gotten there yet

Roy Mustang: theyre no longer selling stroop waffles right now

Rosé Thomas to 7 excellents and LAN FAN THE WAFFLE TRAITOR: It’s official

Rosé Thomas: Mustang won the bet

Winry Rockbell: wow i forgot that was still going on

Maria Ross: how’s ed taking it

Rosé Thomas: Oh how you would think he’d take it

Paninya: EYYYY EDS GONNA ATTRACT THE CAMPUS POPO AGAIN

Roy Mustang to PROJECT LINGFAN (WHAT IS A LINGFAN SOMEONE TELL ME ALREADY): if ling lost the bet he had to choose

Roy Mustang: either actually outright confess to lan fan or end whatever it is they have

Paninya: Y TF WOULD U GIVE HIM THE SECOND OPTION ALL THEY NEED TO DO IS STOP DANCIN AROUND EACH OTHER N BANG

Alphonse Elric: Paninya its more complicated than that

Paninya: WHAT IN THE 7TH RING OF HELL COULD BE SO COMPLICATED ABOUT THIS

Mei Chang: long story short

Mei Chang: our familys shit deep in politics

Mei Chang: either ling gets in there shit deep too or hes married off

Edward Elric: well fuck

Rosé Thomas: Lan fan knows

Rosé Thomas: When she messaged me after the party i found out that this is why she was so upset

Rosé Thomas: Apparently a drunk ling told her that she should leave him because ‘he’s scared about what would happen if he stopped caring and she deserves better than a coward’

Paninya: well now i feel like shit

Mei Chang: welcome to my world

Mei Chang to Secret Swiftie: remember how you came to my school and almost got arrested

Mei Chang: a couple of girls are asking about your tshirts

Secret Swiftie: call it what u want is a fuckin eargasm I TAKE IT ALL BACK ALL OF IT

Secret Swiftie: I HAVE HEARD AN ACTUAL REAL LIFE A N G E L

Mei Chang: great i’ll tell them you died

Lan Fan to WHOS FAKE PUNK ROCK NOW U FILTHY FUCKING HYPOCRITES P A N I N Y A: has anyone seen my book

Paninya: what book is it

Lan Fan: howard’s end

Alphonse Elric: Forsters great

Winry Rockbell: sorry i havent

Lan Fan: its fine i probably left it in the studio

Ling Yao: oi i was just kicked out of the dining hall what kind of DISRESPECT

Paninya: k but u were eatin all the soup

Ling Yao: is that a crime now

Winry Rockbell: u took the entire pot ling

Lan Fan: you didnt even try to be stealthy about it you just ran back to your seat giggling

Mei Chang: how are they just kicking you out now

Lan Fan: oh they have he climbs back in through the window

Edward Elric: last week u complained the rice wasnt cooked

Ling Yao: have u????? had the rice here??????? itS C R U N C H Y

Edward Elric: jfc lower ur standards ur highness this is college

Lan Fan: you dont pay 70K a year to eat

Paninya: just suck it up lk the rest of us

Winry Rockbell: its either this or starve yao

Ling Yao: :O

Ling Yao changed the chat name to fake friends™

Alphonse Elric to cAn yOU FEeL iT Now mR KRAbs: What the everloving fuck do i have to murder to find out what the shit lingfan is?????¿¿¿¿¿

Lan Fan: …..

Alphonse Elric: Ah

Alphonse Elric: Wrong chat

Paninya: (✿◉‿◉)

Winry Rockbell: AL FOR THE LOV EOF

Winry Rockbell kicked Lan Fan from the chat

Winry Rockbell kicked Ling Yao from the chat

Mei Chang: you know they can still see previous messages

Edward Elric: fuckkkkkk

Paninya: well first time not directin this at edward

Paninya: duuuuuude u fucked up

Panko to Lan Fan: hey i saved u a seat in psych but u didnt look over

Panko: is this about kickin u out of the squad chat

Lan Fan: do they all know

Panko: uh kno what

Lan Fan: does everyone know paninya

Panko: if i answer will u promise not to disappear again

Panko: no one told anyone else about it if thats what ur angry about we all figured it out by ourselves

Panko: well except for ed but that boi is dumb af

Panko: n im not sayin u guys were obvious or anything it took a while until we saw it

Lan Fan: i think im going to go back to my grandfathers for the weekend

Panko: pls dont drop off the face of the earth again

Lan Fan: i wont i was going to go back anyway and space is good

Panko: ur not the only one in this lan fan

Panko: no matter how much u wont see it

Lan Fan: (◠‿◠✿)

Winry Rockbell to PROJECT LINGFAN (ALPHONSE ELRIC DONE FUCKED UP YALL): so lan fans gone

Winry Rockbell: when did u say ling had to make a choice mustang

Roy Mustang: i didnt??

Edward Elric: u said he had to make a decision and DIDNT GIVE HIM A SHITDAMN DEADLINE

Edward Elric: ITS NEVER GONNA HAPPEN NOW HONDA

Paninya: well thats just great chevrolet

Riza Hawkeye: You really didnt think this through bmw

Roy Mustang: wow at least i didnt blow our cover

Alphonse Elric: Dont throw me under the bus with u toyota at least im repentant

Paninya: alright well now that lamborgini royally fucked up

Winry Rockbell: “lamborgini”

Winry Rockbell: so close

Edward Elric: so what the fuck is gonna happen now

Winry Rockbell: ok mei can talk to ling bc she lives with him

Mei Chang: unfortunately

Rosé Thomas: I don’t know if lan fan will be willing to talk

Rosé Thomas: She used an emoji again

Mei Chang: actually i’ll talk to her someone else tackle my brother

Paninya: idk how to speak fuccboi language one of the guys gotta do it

Winry Rockbell: after roy and als fuckups who else can we choose

Edward Elric: RUDE

Roy Mustang: sit down you didnt even know they were a thing

Edward Elric: MAYBE BC I DONT POKE MY FUCKING NOSE INTO OTHER PPLS BUSINESS

Alphonse Elric: Well ofc u physically cant ned

Winry Rockbell: can u even see other ppl without platform shoes

Mei Chang: or a ladder

Edward Elric: UR FUCKING SHORTER THAN ME JFC

Paninya to milk: hate it, shouting: always, music taste: shite = I AM FORCIBLY SHUT INTO THE BODY OF A SIX YEAR OLD: RIZA TOLD ME THERE IS A PETTING ZOO 3 MILES AWAY YALL MEET AT MY CAR IN 5

Edward Elric: we’re already fucking here

Ling Yao: lol weve been here for an hour

Alphonse Elric: Mustangs been holding a komodo dragon for approx half that time

Mei Chang: winry drove us and there are llamas

Winry Rockbell: i am surrounded by puppies rn am i dead

Paninya: bitch u r to me im writin u all out of my will CLEARLY ALL MY M8S ARE SHIT

Ling Yao to Sister Mine: mei

Ling Yao: meiiiiiii

Sister Mine: i’m literally right next to you what

Ling Yao: have u ever seen lan fan with her hair down

Sister Mine: once during the floor party you all snuck me into

Sister Mine: why do you ask

Ling Yao: her hair tie broke a few days ago and she was fussing with it and i couldnt breathe

Sister Mine: when her hair is down??

Ling Yao: up, down, soaking, gone

Ling Yao: she takes my breath away, mei

Ling Yao: she takes my breath away no matter what she does, or say, or looks like and i am a coward

Sister Mine: you may be right

Ling Yao: are you ashamed of me?

Sister Mine: that depends

Sister Mine: what do you plan to do about it

Lan Fan to Literal Monkey™: hey i know its 5 am and youre probably not even awake and this is probably useless anyway considering ive been transparent as all hell

Lan Fan: but i dont think sleep is an option until i tell you

Lan Fan: youre ridiculous

Lan Fan: youre ridiculous and full of it and infuriating and reckless and beautiful and just so so idiotic

Lan Fan: id have to be too i guess

Lan Fan: to be in love with you even after all of it

Lan Fan: and i really am just that

Lan Fan: idiotic and in love with you

Literal Monkey™: thanks

Lan Fan: did you just breakfast at tiffanys me

Literal Monkey™: yes because you would understand it

Literal Monkey™: you understand lan fan

Literal Monkey™: every shitty meme or reference or word i say you’ll always always understand

Literal Monkey™: just like how you understand that im all those things you said i was

Literal Monkey™: im reckless and infuriating and indecisive and greedy and far too ridiculous to deserve you and you understand that

Literal Monkey™: and if youre idiotic for being in love with me then im a hundred times more and you understand why too

Lan Fan: i think you have too much faith in me

Literal Monkey™: i think you have too little

Literal Monkey™: come to your window

Lan Fan: what why

Literal Monkey™: because its hard to type when im barely holding onto your window frame and looking like a hero straight out of an austen novel and honestly id rather told you how much im in love with you in person

Literal Monkey™: convention and all that

Lan Fan: well alright then

Paninya changed the chat name to IT FINALLY FUCKING HAPPENED LADS LINGFAN IS REAL FUCKING CHRIST NO MORE ANGST I AM LIBERATEDDDD

Alphonse Elric: Great so can someone pls explain wtf a lingfan is now

Edward Elric: Read at 8:09 AM

FULL VERSION AND CONTINUATION HERE

37 notes · View notes

kokkoro · 7 years

Text

you and me (were meant to be) 2/3

Her name is Clarke and she likes coffee and it takes you half a second to decide you like her.

or part 2 of the ‘i just met you but there’s this couples contest on campus rn and all my friends are busy and you’re just sitting there reading on the quad, pls the prize is a Technivorm Moccamaster KBT 741 and my coffee machine broke last week and im dying pls i need my coffee’ au

(aka the couples competition au) (on ao3)

Clarke’s off campus apartment is cleaner than you expect. It’s bright and open, with a table littered with a multitude of books and a pile of shoes on the rug near the entryway. A mix of heels, sneakers, and flip flops that Clarke had to kick aside when you showed up at her front door. It feels like a home. Warm and welcoming and whole.

You tuck yourself into the corner of the counter with a hot cup of coffee, by the fridge and out of way as Clarke goes about fiddling with her new machine. The smell is permeating, rich and strong, but you at least you find it more tolerable than the taste.

She had invited you over to celebrate, though you’re beginning to see that ‘celebrate’ is simply another word for coffee.

“Are you ready for this?” she asks after her own cup is poured and steaming. She holds it out like it's some tankard filled with beer and not a normal cup of joe, some cream, and two tablespoons of sugar. “To us.”

“To us,” you repeat, clinking your mugs together gently. You bring it to your lips for show, taking a small sip, but your eyes don’t leave her. She holds it close with both hands, inhaling the steam with a happy sigh that she let’s linger a little too long to be normal. It’s far more endearing that it has any right to be.

She hums low at the first taste, eyes closing briefly, savoring it. It’s a few moments before she lowers the cup again. “Have I thanked you yet today?”

“Yes.” You smile, unable to help the satisfying ache that settles in your cheeks. “Twice.”

“Well, thank you. Again,” she says, looking you in the eye, and it takes all of you not to glance at her lips. “I really mean it.”

“You’re more than welcome, Clarke.”

You’re sweaty and breathing hard when you finally decide to take a break, peeling off the mesh fencing mask and setting it beside you on the bench. The first few unrestricted breaths you take fills your lungs and it’s a lovely feeling.

“How’s your girlfriend?”

Anya watches you with barely contained amusement, taking a seat next to you as you dig through your equipment bag under the bench for a towel in lieu humoring her with a response. Sifting through an extra pair of gloves and tape for your hands, you end up finding it in the corner side pocket instead, and you give it a quick shake before running it over your face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say finally, moving to rub the back of your neck with the towel before tossing it back in the bag at your feet.

You hear rustling, and you turn to watch Anya produce the weekly paper from where she had it hidden rolled up under her opposite arm. There, on the front page, is a picture of you and Clarke. It’s a little off center, but you’re stomach to stomach, your hands on Clarke’s cheeks, hair a little wild and there’s no question what it is you’re doing. The caption reads: ‘art major Clarke Griffin and poli sci graduate Lexa Woods locked lips this Thursday to win Polis U’s official unofficial King and Queen Competition. They are the first LGBT couple to win since it’s installment.’

“You’re famous,” Anya says, monotone, but her eyes sparkle in the way you’ve come to learn as amusement. “And I can’t believe I’m the last person to know.”

You take the paper from her, scanning the article briefly. It’s mostly a recap of the past week’s homecoming festivities. “There’s nothing to know,” you say, glancing at her, but by the look on her face, Anya doesn’t believe you. “She’s not… We’re not together.”

“Tell that to everyone else," Anya says, poking the paper you hold in your hands, and the thin line of her lips quirks up into a grin.

It’s quiet in Clarke’s apartment on Tuesdays. Midday, just after one, and it’s warm and cozy and you have nothing else to do. You had to reschedule practice for tomorrow thanks to the basketball team’s unannounced gym takeover and there really wasn’t much else you could do. It did leave you with some free time, though. The sun slips in over the coffee table through the small terrace doors, and you enjoy watching the shadows that stretch as a result. It’s one small reprieve from the hecticness this week has seemed to accumulate.

Clarke joins you after a few minutes, cradling a mug, and she forgoes the sofa in favor of taking a seat on the floor with you. It’s warmer in the sun, you assume, and you prop your head in your hand, studying the way her hair glints golden in the light.

“What’s on the agenda?” she asks once she’s settled, resting both her elbows on the table-top. She has on this loose sweater, the sleeves long, and she uses them to safely hold the scalding cup with two hands.

You give a halfhearted shrug. You always end up feeling a little lost on the days you can’t practice, missing the weight in your hands and the familiarity of the strip, and Clarke’s place seemed like the best alternative. If only to avoid Anya’s needling. “I’m not sure.”

Clarke takes a sip of her coffee, savoring the taste for a second before placing her mug down on an old, already stained napkin. She ruffles through a bit of the mess gathered in piles on the coffee table, plucking an impressively sized workbook out from under the clutter.

She opens to a page bookmarked by a blank piece of lined paper. “How good are you at physics?”

You squint curiously at her. You took calculus last year just as a prerequisite, but you’re not sure if it will help you now. “Why?”

She nudges the workbook closer to you. “Help me?”

You place a hand over the page, dragging the book closer to you. Flipping through a couple of pages bring things back into focus, though most of it remains stubbornly in that fuzzy area at the back of your brain. “I mentioned I’m a graduate student, right? Political science.”

“Yeah.” She’s looking at you with this barely there smile, the corner of her mouth upturned in a little curl. It’s like she already knows you’re going to say yes.

“What questions?”

Clarke’s smile spreads, and she scoots closer to the corner of the table you share. “Page 32, one through seven.”

“I probably won’t be much help.”

She shrugs. “I’d rather suffer with a buddy.”

Clarke’s left-handed, you notice. The two of you silently squabble over arm space, nudging each other’s elbows out of the way while trying to focus on the work spread out in front of you. She tries her hardest not to let you see her smile.

(You can hear it in her voice though)

“What’d you get for number 7?”

“47.4 meters per seconds,” you say. You have your head in your hand again, the pencil Clarke found you tapping a light beat against the table.

She bumps your arm playfully and the pencil tumbles from your hand. You reach for it as Clarke goes about vigorously erasing her work. “I thought you said you weren’t good at this.”

“It might be wrong.”

She dusts the eraser shavings from the paper and onto the table, glancing at you with an exasperated quirk of her brow. “You weren’t wrong the other six times, I doubt you’ll be wrong now.”

Once her workspace is clear, Clarke peeks over your arm at your paper and you roll your eyes, pushing it closer to her. “You have to equate the potential energy of the bow to the kinetic energy of the arrow.”

You gently brush her hand out of the way, finding a blank spot on her paper. “The potential energy of the bow is equal to one half K times X squared. K is the stiffness of the bow and X is the amount the string is stretched. Therefore--” You fill in as you go, the scratch of your pencil loud in the moments between. “-- the potential energy is 56.25 joules.”

You shift a line down. “Kinetic energy is one half mass times velocity squared. You know the mass of the arrow and you know the potential energy of the bow, so since kinetic energy is equal to potential energy, you simply solve for velocity.” Your pencil finally stills, and you turn to study the gentle furrow to clarke’s brow, the way her hair stumbles over her shoulder--the dim glow it has in the waning light. “Does that make sense?”

She nods slowly, but you wonder if she’s just trying to convince herself. “Clarke.”

Clarke’s eyes find yours for a moment, but she’s quick to look away. “No, yeah, I uh -- I get it.”

“Are you trying to convince me, Clarke?”

Clarke snorts, pushing the hair away from her eyes. She sets the tip of her pencil back on the paper, picking up where you left off, and the quiet click of her calculator keys fills the resulting silence. She shoots you a look not a moment later, mouth pursed, eyes judging. “47.4,” she mutters, scribbling the answer. “Never, ever, let me take a math based science class ever again.”

“The real question is why you thought you should to begin with.”

Clarke shrinks a little bit. “It fit my schedule better than biology.”

“Rookie mistake.”

She turns away, a smile forming as she cleans up the multitude of papers spread out over the coffee table. “Same time next week?”

“Sure.”

The gym is loud, a cacophony of triumphant shouts and buzzes that sound off on the speakers. You sink into en guard, sabre poised, and everything else besides your opponent fades away--their breathing, the angle of their shoulders, the stretch of their stance. It’s quick from the moment you settle, when the sound of the starting buzzer rings and you lunge, aiming for the opening you see in the guard.

With a yell, your hit lands at their neck and they stagger backwards from the suddenness of your advance, feet fumbling. You reign in the slack, pulling yourself back and returning to the en garde line, allowing yourself a small bounce on your heels before settling into poise.

The second bout begins quicker than the first, your opponent taking the initiative to attack. He seems unsure what to do with the right of way now that he has it, flicking the blade of the sabre to knock against yours, testing. It makes his lunge easy to read, that long reach of his arm as he aims for your chest. You parry inward, knocking the blade aside and immediately stretch forward. The tip of your sword hits his shoulder, sinks and bends, and you can pinpoint the exact moment he caves in defeat.

“Watch your hands, Aden,” you say, and the tension eases from your muscles as you watch him remove his mask with a huff.

He runs a hand through his hair, the sweat causing it to stick up and fall in amusing ways, and glares at you half-heartedly. “Yeah, yeah.”

You sigh as you take off your mask and you tuck it under your arm, the gym air cool against the sweat collecting near your hairline and the underside of your neck. “You can’t let defeat keep you from trying.”

He undoes his glove, pulling the velcro apart. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“I didn’t get this position because I was good--” his eye roll is pronounced and yeah you probably deserved that, “I worked hard for it. I trained. Skill is a testament to time.”

“Doesn’t make you any less of a natural.”

“You’re a freshman, Aden. You put in the time and the results will follow.” You see the little curl of his lips, that reluctant optimism at your unintentional praise.

“Captain!”

Your head turns at the sound, but not without a glance back at Aden to make sure he doesn’t run away. He seems amused that you feel the need to, but obediently stays put as Ryder makes his way through the throng to you.

He’s nearly half a foot taller than you, and built like a bear in breeches and a tank-top, nearly too stocky for fencing, but his swiftness belies his stature. He comes to a stop by your left hand side, waiting for you to finish whatever it was you were doing, but you urge him to continue.

“There’s, uh, someone looking for you,” Ryder says, and his apprehension at broaching the subject only lasts a second. “I think it might be your girlfriend?”

Your brow furrows, heat prickling in your cheeks. “Put that mask back on,” you say, pointing at a smirking Aden and then you go about unhooking yourself from the equipment. Once you’re free, you hand over your practice sabre to the new arrival, adjusting the helmet under your arm for a better hold. “Ryder, with Aden please. Keep an eye on his hands. I’ll be right back.”

Ryder nods once, grinning. Out of the corner of your eye you see Aden shaking his head.

You weave carefully through the thick of things, pausing to help a few of the new recruits with questions as you pass. It’s not until you catch sight of the double doors to the foyer that you notice Clarke standing awkwardly off to the side, watching a couple of veterans trade blows on the strip.

She does a double take when she finally spots you making your way over, adjusting the strap of her worn canvas bag over her shoulder. Her hair’s a little windswept without her hat, piled atop her head in a bun, but of course it works for her.

“Clarke,” you say as a way of greeting and it’s a little breathless. You wipe a bit of the sweat inching its way down your temple, suddenly self conscious.

“Hey,” Clarke replies slowly, and her eyes seem to get lost on you, lingering here and there before returning up to your face with a subtle shake of her head. It’s a moment before she says, “You fence?”

“I do.” You shift your weight to one foot, taking a quick mental note of the few people who have stopped practicing in an attempt inconspicuously watch your conversation unfold. “I captain the university team.”

“Wow,” Clarke says, and it seems sincere enough. She looks around you and you step a bit to the side so she can see better. “Is it... is it fun?”

A small smile finally takes hold of your lips. “I would say it is fun, Clarke. But my opinion isn’t exactly unbiased.”

“How long?”

“How long what, Clarke?” you say, humoring her while trying to block out the muffled giggles you hear coming from somewhere behind you.

“How long have you been fencing.”

“Since I was fourteen.”

“So you’re a pro.”

“Not exactly.”

“But you don’t deny it.” she says, leaning closer and you take a small unconscious step back to compensate. You wouldn’t call her intimidating, not in that soft worn tee and frizzy hair and a bit of blue paint speckled under her chin. Overwhelming on the other hand…. that’s a possibility.

“Is there a reason you're here, Clarke?”

She seems to remember herself, blinking. “Oh, I uh….. you said you’d be at the gym, and since I was passing by I thought, you know--” she shrugs, “--that I’d see if you were still free tomorrow.”

“I am. As far as I know.”

“Do you want to meet me for some coffee? I’ve got a take home quiz that could use an extra pair of eyes.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“No,” she says, and you’ve never seen anyone so sure of themselves.

“What were you doing that day?”

You don’t look up until you finish jotting down the last few numbers. You find her studying you softly, and in the buzz of the small coffee shop down on fourth it feels more intimate than it has any right to be. “Reading?”

Clarke sighs loudly, folding her arms on the table and slouching. Apparently that wasn’t the answer she was looking for. “No, but really.”

“Reading,” you repeat more firmly, and she smiles faintly, realizing the quiet tease for what it is. She bumps her foot against your shin under the table and you go back to your work. “I was doing some research.”

“For?”

“A graduate studies class.”

“Ah,” Clarke hums, and you pause your writing to glance up at her. Her face is serious, but at least she’s no longer watching you, her eyes focused blankly on her own paper even though she holds the pencil limply in her hand. She catches you staring a second later and you’re quick to look away. “Sorry for dragging you away from work.”

You give a one-sided shrug, scribbling away. “You weren’t bothering me. It was a welcome change of pace.”

“I can help you out,” she offers, and you throw away pretenses to finally look her in the eye. “I may not be good with the specifics, but my mother used to say my bullheadedness would get me somewhere in life.”

“I don’t think that was a compliment, Clarke.”

“No, but I decided to take it as one.”

This little pang shoots through your heart. “You don’t need to help me.”

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” She scoots a bit closer to the table and her chair screeches quietly in protest, leaning more on her folded arms. It’s as close as she can get to you, and then very softly she says, “You help me. Let me help you.”

Your mouth opens slightly but nothing comes out, so you close it and reconsider. She searches your eyes and it’s hard, you find, not to get lost in them.

The both of you struggle with electricity and magnetism. The coffee shop staff shoot you looks of pity as they go about their closing rituals, you and Clarke tucked in the corner booth with your heads in your hands, staring blankly at the pages of Clarke’s physics textbook. You save them the trip over by suggesting relocating to your apartment just a block away. It only takes one mention of your keurig machine for Clarke to begrudgingly accept, sweeping her books and utensils into her bag with little care.

The briskness of the november night takes the both of you by surprise when you step out the doors and onto the sidewalk. The wind hits you square in the chest, pulls at your clothes and bites at your cheeks. It takes your breath away, and you attempt to bury your nose into the flimsy short collar of your jacket with little success.

“Fuck,” Clarke says beside you, pulling the drawstrings of her hoodie tight and huddling further into her sweatshirt. Her pace unconsciously quickens to match your long quick strides.

She sticks close, keeping in time. At this time of night, other storefronts are closing, sweeping the trash and pulling in outdoor signs, and you try not to think about her shoulder brushing yours.

(neither of you take the initiative to widen the distance, the warmth both of you gravitate towards)

It takes you ten minutes to make it back to your complex and then up to your apartment. You open the door, keys jingling as you pull it from the lock and then make your way inside. Clarke follows just behind you, tentatively taking stock of the surroundings as you sling your jacket up on a hook by the door.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Clarke by the shelf of knick-knacks and photos near the entrance and you make your way over to the kitchen. “What would you like?”

Clarke jumps, turning towards you and inching her way over to the kitchen table, fingers curled around the strap of her messenger bag. “What do you have?”

You rummage through the cupboard above the coffee pot. “We have original or italian roast.” Both are Anya’s, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Clarke hums as she takes a seat, pulling things out of her backpack and arranging them on the table. “Italian roast, please.”

You pull the keurig cup from the cupboard and a mug, filling the latter with water from the sink and then pouring it into the reservoir. You’re not particularly experienced with the process, but you’ve seen Anya go through the motions on more than one occasion to make an educated guess at it. When you press the power button and everything seems to work as it should, you figure it was enough.

You linger by the counter as it fills, keeping an eye on Clarke as she resumes where the two of you left off. She looks tired, hair gone messy after being bundled up in her hood, and if you didn’t know her you’d say she was two minutes away from calling it quits and passing out at your kitchen table. But she’s Clarke, and every few minutes or so she’ll shake her head and open her eyes wide as if trying to force herself awake.

And it works. To an extent. Though the look on her face when you finally set down the coffee mug next to her hand, her eyes doing this endearing back and forth between it and you, is another story altogether.

“Thank you,” she says.

You slip into the seat on her left, folding yourself a little ungracefully, but it’s nearing 11:30 and you want this done just as much as her. “What do we have left?”

She takes a quick, grateful sip of her coffee before setting it aside and sliding the book between the both of you. “Well, I’d say we basically finished chapter twenty--” she winces subtly at the memories and you’d rather not have to relive those moments. “--so that leaves chapter twenty-one: electromagnetic waves and alternating-current circuits.”

You glance over the first page of the chapter and like everything else, it’s a mess of physics vocabulary and equations with too many variables. Flipping through the next few pages makes you grimace, and you nudge the book back over to Clarke. Being a little more than halfway through the semester, you’ve become more of a soundboard than anything else, a suffer buddy as Clarke put it a few months ago, information from years past but mere child’s play compared to what is being thrown at you now. You help as much as you can though and you hope it’s enough.

Thirty minutes later, though, and it feels like you haven’t budged an inch.

“So if the voltage through the resistor is equal to the supply voltage then that would mean this is true--” Clarke jots a few equations down, waiting until you nod to continue. “--and if we….set this….”

You pick your head up from your hand as Clarke’s voice tapers off, eyeing the almost blank look that has fallen across her face. Possibly a side-effect from all the coffee, and you attempt to temper the impulse to reach out and draw her back. Luckily, it doesn’t last long.

“That’s it!” she exclaims, and you startle at the sudden increase in volume, sitting up straighter in your chair. Clarke looks at you, a wide giddy smile, and nearly upends herself from her seat to hug you, leaning awkwardly over the side of her chair, more one arm than the other. You return it awkwardly, your nose in her hair, and you miss the scent of it the moment she pulls away. “It’s the--thing! You know, the thing!” she says, a loss for words, intent on chasing her chain of thought before it gets away.

In a way so are you. She gathers her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrates and you can’t help but remember the softness of them pressed against your own, that little ghost of a smile you hope you hadn’t imagined. You blame it on the exhaustion as the time ticks past a quarter after midnight, on that little inkling of weakness you call imagination. It couldn’t hurt you more than you already allowed it to, after all.

She passes out just before one, and to be honest you’re not far behind. You had turned around after cleaning up the mess spread out around the kitchen to find her hunched over the table, head pillowed in her arms and snoring slightly. For a moment you watch her, over by the counter some ten feet away, and you feel safe. But you shake your head and sigh, picking yourself up to tidy the table and set her second (half finished) mug of coffee in the sink.

You manage to rouse her enough to shuffle on over to the couch, slipping off her boots once she’s toppled over onto the cushions. She lets out this little sigh that gets lost into the throw pillows, and she wiggles closer for comfort.

You wake up the next morning around eight to an empty couch and the blanket folded neatly on its arm. Besides Anya sitting at the table with this wide smirk, the only thing left is this little thank you note and an IOU scribbled on last night’s coffee napkin that you may or may not save for posterity.

(It has a smiley face on it, of course you save it)

Thanksgiving approaches faster than you can comprehend. Between the multiple papers for your graduate studies classes and an upcoming fencing tournament in January, it’s quite like being pulled in multiple separate directions at once, so you savor the peace while you can. With Anya in colorado visiting family for the long weekend and practices canceled until after the holidays, you settle in the wednesday night before with no plans but your butt and that couch and a couple of mixed drinks.

There’s a slew of indie films and documentaries that have been sitting in your queue for the better part of a few months and you plan on making the most of your self-enforced relaxation. That is, until you get the phone call.

You recognize the number as Clarke’s and you pick up before it has the chance to ring again.

“Clarke?”

“Lexa, hi,” she sighs. In the background you can hear muffled noises and something suspiciously close to Christmas music playing. “How are you?”

You stare blankly at the television, your paused program stuck on a close up of the african savannah. “I’m fine.”

The music continues, and it’s long drawn out seconds of santa baby before Clarke decides to talk again. “Can I come over?” she says it quickly, rushed and almost like there’s a high probability you’ll say no. Which is absurd to you. That she could think you would and her resulting silence seems to reinforce the thought because she’s quick to stutter, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t--”

“Do you need me to pick you up?” You set your feet down from where they were propped up on the coffee table, setting aside the blanket you had draped over your legs. She doesn’t answer right away and if it weren’t for the noise you would assume she’d hung up. “Clarke.”

“No!” she insists, a little forcefully, and she clears her throat. “No, I can -- I’m good. I can make it. Thank you. I’ll just...” she pauses, and you press your hand to your lips to stop yourself from smiling. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“I’m sure.”

“Can I bring anything?”

“Only if you want.”

“Okay. I’ll catch you in a little bit, then?”

“Sure,” you say. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Bye,” she mutters, almost shyly, and then she hangs up.

You haul yourself up from the couch, busying yourself with a menial task as the wait begins. There’s a few dishes in the sink that you clean and put away, but by the time that’s done you stand awkwardly by the kitchen table with little else to do. Everything is where it should be, the apartment is fairly clean, and you picked up an extra pack of italian roast keurig cups at the off chance that maybe something would happen, but here you are now, with something, and you’re not sure why you’re this nervous.

Or maybe you are and you just don’t want to admit it.

The intercom to your apartment sounds fifteen minutes or so later and you buzz Clarke up from the bottom floor. Clarke comes in bundled up in a large sweater and a thick wool scarf, cheeks rosy from the cold, and bearing a six pack of pumpkin ale.

She shivers visibly, standing just beyond the door as she takes in the heat of your apartment, before holding out the beer. “I bought us some drinks.”

You stand aside to let her in. “That’s not coffee.”

Clarke elbows you as she walks past, right in the gut but gently and this small smile forms while you watch her set down the case on your counter. “I drink more than just coffee, thank you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

She snorts, looking back at you challengingly as she fishes out a bottle from its containment and twists the cap off. “Oh, you better believe it.”

You join her by the counter when things settle. She takes a small sip and you stand close enough to see the way her ears peak through the blonde of her hair, red tipped and her flushed cheeks blotched from the sudden change in temperature. You gently touch her elbow, holding the contact for a second so she turns towards you. The blue of her eyes glows in the dim light of your apartment and you wonder if they find what they need when they look at you.

“Can I ask?” you begin tentatively. She doesn’t look away for a long moment, and you hope that means that line you're hesitant of still hasn’t been crossed.

“I wanted to get away for a moment,” Clarke says, shrugging. You have half a mind to realize that that’s not even the half of it, but you don’t push. She does the rest on her own. “My friends have this thanksgiving get-together on the Wednesday before. We eat, get a bit drunk, have fun. You know, it's for friends. They’ve always been more like family to me, anyway.”

She tilts her head back, looking up at your ceiling before glancing back down at her beer. The bottle twists in her hands, fingernails picking at the corner of the label.

“And then he shows up and I kinda just wanna….” she sighs heavily, the words lost, and her grip tightens on her drink until she forces herself to relax. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to --” she shakes her head, “you were the first person I thought of. Wells was more than happy to help me out.”

“That’s okay.” You gesture to the living room, the television still paused. “I was watching a documentary. Did you have something else in mind?”

“No,” she breathes, and the relief on her face is clear. “That sounds great.”

“Popcorn?”

Clarke moves away from the counter, patting her stomach with her free hand. “I’m good for now. Thank you though.”

You nod, plucking a beer from its cardboard holder and twisting off the cap. Clarke makes her way over to the couch, stopping halfway to look over her shoulder to make sure you’re following, and you do once both the caps are tossed into the recycling. She huddles into the far right corner of your couch, pulling her feet up after she slips off her shoes, her nose buried in her scarf, and you hear her sigh.

“Is it too cold?” you ask as you take a seat next to her, reaching for the remote that you left on the coffee table.

“No, it’s perfect,” she says, muffled. Not too long later she comes back up for air, taking a quick sip of beer. She sinks back into that warmth within seconds though. “What did I miss?”

You look back to the television. “The baby ostriches made it to the watering hole,” you say.

“Africa?”

“Yes.”

She snuggles further into your couch. “Oh good. That means I missed the scary part.”

You don’t bother tempering your smile, pressing play on the remote and settling in yourself. The both of your fall into a comfortable silence, quietly sipping your pumpkin beer as life on the african plains unfolds itself in your living room. You take a break to microwave a bag of popcorn halfway through the second episode, and when you return you sit shoulder to shoulder with the bowl in our lap.

(The warmth you feel when neither of you make a move to widen that distance after the popcorn is finished and the empty bowl moves from your lap to the table is… comforting. Content. And a whole bunch of other things your fuzz filled brain can’t manage to comprehend)

“The Dead Poet’s Society,” she says hopefully as you scroll through the main menu some indiscernible time later (you learn watching episodes of Africa back to back tend to have that kind of effect). You turn to look at her and the world outside is dark, but you feel light. It's no wonder as to why. “What about that?”

“It’s sad, Clarke.”

“I know.” She shrugs and you feel it. “It’s good though.”

It’s hard to argue with that kind of logic.

Clarke leaves late in the night. She wakes you up, her hand gentle on your shoulder and you feel not all quite there, half draped across the arm of the couch as you are. Her eyes are blue, this soft calm blue, and you find at that moment that you’d be okay with never looking at anything else.

“Is it okay if I leave the beer here?” she asks in a whisper, leant in close, and her voice fills your head.

You manage a nod, blinking, your tongue dry and heavy in your mouth. Everything about you feels sluggish, mind fuzzy and one step behind, and you don’t like it. The way way her touch disappears, her hand slipping as she pulls away, tucking an errant strand of hair that had fallen across her eyes.

You don’t like feeling like you’ve already been left behind.

“Clarke.” You hope you don’t sound as desperate as you feel.

She smiles this small gentle thing, and oh the way your heart clenches. “Have I thanked you today?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation, without thinking, sitting up as if to follow. Because why would you need to. Your voice is hoarse and she smiles a bit wider at the sound and a tiny part of you hopes it convinces her to stay.

“Thank you,” she says anyway, half of a shrug. She buries her face into the scarf wrapped around her neck, hands deep in her pockets and this lazy slouch to her shoulders. “Get some sleep okay?”

It’s a few seconds before she makes a move for the door. There’s little you remember after that.

“Here,” Clarke says, holding out a cup of coffee and you glance at it, looking up from your notebook at that mug with the silly reindeer--Clarke’s soft hands and her chipped nail polish. You can’t believe she walked all the way from her apartment to the campus library with that thing and you find it’s hard to ignore that feeling that burns softly in the pit of your gut and you look away. That doesn’t deter her though. “Come on, you look like you need it.”

Your gaze rises and then falls, but ultimately you set your pencil down and accept the drink from her hands. “Thank you.”

She slides into the chair beside you, glancing over the books you have stacked in misshapen piles. To say she looks a little worried is an understatement. “How long have you been here?”

You tap her arm and she angles her wrist towards you, the face of her watch reading 4:37pm. “Six and a half hours.”

“Shit, Lexa,” she whispers, almost scolding. “Have you eaten at all?”

You think for a moment, but come up short. “No.”

Her lips purse into an almost frown, a displeased crease between her brows. Your face softens at the sight, this small, nearly nonexistent smile to your lips as you watch her expression sour minutely.

“Don’t give me that face,” she says.

You’re quick to avert your attention back to your notes. “I wasn’t aware I was making a face.”

Out of the corner of your eye she looks at you incredulously, a silent dare, but you don’t take the bait. You figure if there was ever a moment too close for comfort, this would be it. The harsh thud of your heart against your ribs is telltale enough.

“You need food,” she says a few moments later when you don’t acknowledge her further, her fingers touching yours. It’s distracting, but you don’t want her to stop. “Anya said you had practice this morning--”

That gets you to look up, and you blink owlishly. “You talked to Anya?”

“Yeah… I -- I kinda stopped by your apartment hoping to catch you.” she backtracks, shaking her head as if to remember. “She’s the one who told me where I could find you…. Is there something wrong?”

“No, I was just-- it’s fine.”

“She’s intense,” Clarke says.

You snort. “That’s putting it lightly, but yes, she is.”

“She would want you to eat.”

Your jaw drops slightly, watching Clarke fiddle with the sleeve of your sweater, as if pretending she didn’t just offhandedly threaten to use your roommate as leverage to twist your arm into getting you away from your work. When she glances up and your eyes meet the underhanded smirk is hard to miss.

You narrow your eyes at her. “Don’t bring her into this.”

She lifts her shoulders into a shrug. “Oops?”

“Did she put you up to this?”

“No, I’m more than happy to do that on my own.” She gives another tug, your sleeve now captive between her thumb and index finger. “Food?”

It takes a second, but you give in. “Sushi?”

“Sure, whatever you want.”

Clarke handles finals week almost as well as you do, which is to say she doesn’t. If it’s possible, she’s worse. You learned quickly that the people around her come first, and that doesn’t change even when she needs it the most. She’d run herself into the ground given the time, so when you get a call deep into finals week, you figure this is it.

It’s her number, from her phone, but the voice is too deep to actually be hers. You remember her mentioning Wells, her childhood friend and longtime (though sometimes reluctant) partner in crime, and when you show up to her apartment it’s him who opens the doors. It’s nice to finally put a name to a face.

You find there’s a gentleness to him that’s oddly relaxing.

“Thanks for stopping by,” he says, ushering you in quickly. You don’t get to offer much in return, feeling out of place by the door as he hurries to pack things from the kitchen table into his backpack.

You’ve been in Clarke’s apartment numerous times but it feels different now. Fuller, you think. To see a place with the people rather than simply their things. You watch as he goes through this mental list, checking to make sure he has everything, the pockets full and zipped, and then slings the pack over his shoulders.

“I’ve gotta run, but I really appreciate it. She was knocked out last I checked, but,” he shrugs, rolls his eyes, “who knows. She likes tomato soup and grilled cheese. Cheddar, not american. There’s kraft singles in the drawer, soup’s in the cupboard. She’ll tell you she likes it crispy but don’t, she’ll complain later that it hurts to swallow.”

He stills abruptly in the middle of the room as his mind wanders again. A shake of his head a second later brings him back. “Yeah, I think that’s it. Make yourself at home. If you need help just give me a call.”

And then he leaves with an awkward salute. The door closes shut behind him, the silence trickling in from it's hiding places and then familiarity along with it. The fridge hums, cars creep past on the narrow street below, this low murmur and general static, and you lower yourself into a seat and listen, the bag you brought with some busy work and books hanging limp from your shoulder.

You hear her before you see her. Some hours later after you’ve gotten comfortable in one of the kitchen chairs, a book propped open in your hand. It’s this tired shuffle of feet, of thick socks dragging sluggishly along the hardwoods. You chance a glance towards the hall and she appears around the bend in baggy sweats and a loose long sleeve shirt that’s rumpled and half twisted. Her blonde hair sticks out at random angles, a little gnarled and in desperate need of some attention. You watch her attempt to tug her hand through, a fight that she ends up forfeiting, and you look away before you’re caught.

It takes a lot of self-discipline to keep your eyes on your book. “What are you doing out of bed, Clarke?”

Out of the corner of your eye, she startles comically, hand moving to clutch at her heart. She stays like that for a few long seconds, relaxing when intrusion among her apparent solitude has been deemed unthreatening. That doesn’t stop her from vigorously rubbing her eyes, blinking in quick succession once she’s done only to find her surroundings the same and the dreams very much over.

“I was--” Clarke starts, voice more than raw, and you finally allow yourself to actually look. You notice the bags under her eyes, that extra color to her cheeks and neck. She takes quick stock of the rest of the apartment, perhaps wondering what other surprises it may have in store, but her sights keep settling on you. “What are you doing here?”

Careful to keep your page, you close your book. She seems unsure of herself, legs a little wobbly as she stands still in the middle of the hall, hesitant to move past the threshold that separates the bedrooms from the living space.

“I’m here for you, actually,” you reply.

“For me?” she croaks, pointing to herself.

“Are you hungry?”

She’s a bit taken back by the question, or maybe just surprised, and her hand drops to her side. Her mouth opens as if to answer, but nothing makes it out. She clears her throat instead, the pain evident in the dip to her brow, and bumps her closed hand against her thigh.

She nods.

(You wonder if she’s ever put herself first)

You gesture to the couch, and she wordlessly stumbles her way towards it, collapsing onto the cushions the second she’s close enough. For a moment she’s oddly still, face down on the couch and you briefly entertain the thought of checking her pulse, but not too long later her body quakes with the coughs she tries to hide into the pillows.

It’s pitiful, and yet in some way also endearing. You check on her while you go about finding the pots and pans and a skillet for the grilled cheese, glancing over your shoulder to find her still stubbornly face first in the pillows. She’s alive. If the small, occasional tremors are anything to go by, and her stubbornness makes you smile to yourself. You stir the tomato soup as you wait for the cheese to melt and you realize you’re right where you want to be.

She’s going to be okay. She won’t let herself be anything else.

You nudge her leg with your knee about fifteen minutes later with a plate of grilled cheese in one hand and a cup of tomato soup in the other. Her response is to peek from the confines of the throw pillows, eyes narrowed and slightly glossy with tears from coughing, and you shift slightly to place the plate and cup down on the coffee table behind you before turning back to her.

“Clarke,” you say, and her pout only gets bigger. “Can you sit up or do you want some help?”

Clarke shakes her head and you wait. She gets up slowly, pushing herself with the remaining strength in her arms and bringing her legs around until her feet are planted firmly on the floor. You hand her the plate with the little cup, and then reach for the remote that sits beside a messy pile of nail polish and old magazines. The first station you find is a late afternoon talk show and it’s mindless drone and audience laughter is a welcome addition among the static.

You backtrack towards the kitchen table after clarke takes her first bite of grilled cheese. She takes her time to chew, and you’re back with your book before she’s gotten through her second bite. You settle into the other corner, prop open your book against your leg, and pick up where you left off.

Whether or not you manage to comprehend what you’re reading, well. That’s a whole other monster. You get bits and pieces. Snippets of old government policies and other academic jargon that comes in second to the tiny bit of tomato soup collected at the corner of Clarke’s mouth that she wipes away with the side of her thumb.

Bits of the crust remain once she’s done, scattered over the plate and the empty bowl of soup. You flip through the next few pages, skimming the words and finding the next chapter too far away for your liking, so you lean forward to set it aside on the table and then reach for the plate in Clarke’s lap.

“Thank you,” she says, watching you as you stand.

You lift your shoulders in a small shrug. “What else are girlfriends for?”

She gives you this small lopsided smile in response and the swoop your stomach makes alights the butterflies resting there. You return it somewhat cheekily, embarrassed and unsure what to do in the wake of it, but you manage. Somehow, you manage.

You wander off to wash the plate and cup in the sink, taking your time so your insides have a chance to settle. The dishes--including the skillet and the pan of tomato soup--are spotless in two minutes flat and left to dry on the polka-dotted dish towel by the sink, and with nothing left to keep you, you make your way back to the couch.

Clarke has stretched out, head lolled back against the arm of the couch watching the television out of the corner of her eye. She spots you and attempts to adjust, but you wave her off.

You point at her legs. “Lift for a second?”

And she does, drawing her knees back towards her chest so you can take a seat. You guide them back over your lap once you’re good and Clarke sinks further into her slouch, chin nearly touching her chest.

“You are far too good to me, Lexa Woods,” she mutters practically into her shirt, but at least it seems as though her breathing comes easier. Her eyes droop closed, hands folded loosely together over her stomach, and you watch the rise and fall of her chest, your thumb absently rubbing back and forth across her shin.

Clarke (4:21pm): I passed!!!

Lexa (4:27pm): Congrats :)

Clarke (4:29pm): Celebrate? At the station around 7?

Lexa (4:30pm): I’ll meet you there

“So there’s this christmas party my friends are hosting,” Clarke starts one cold december afternoon, and you look up from your book. She doesn’t look back, seemingly enraptured by the television, but she does wiggle her toes that are tucked under your thigh for warmth.

You return your attention to your book when she offers nothing else beyond that, toying with the corner of the page. She wiggles her toes again though, and this time when you look up she’s waiting for you.

“Do you want to go?”

You tilt your head. “With you?”

“Uh...” Her mouth drops, a confused dip to her brows. “Yes...? With me. I thought--”

“I’m joking, Clarke,” you say and she purses her lips to stop herself from smiling, nudging you harder with her foot and you have let go of your book to steady yourself so you don’t topple over.

You push her back and Clarke laughs, holding on tight. You end up in a pile on the floor, between clarke’s legs and her hands at your back, the both of you in a bit of hysterics, and you don’t remember the last time you laughed like that.

The night of the party it is blistering cold and snowing faintly. Quiet uneven drifts that prickle your skin on contact and seem to burn. You and Clarke take an uber downtown to an off campus apartment housing, and the twenty or so feet that separate you from the front door when you pile out from the backseat are covered in five seconds flat, the both of you crowding into the foyer, Clarke pushing you in from behind.

“Christ,” Clarke breathes into your shoulder. Her hands lightly grip your waist, keeping you close for heat as you try to shake some warmth back into your limbs.

“It’ll be warmer upstairs,” you say, brushing the dusting of snow from your coat, waiting for Clarke to release you. She does eventually with one final groan, pressing her forehead into our back before stepping away and stuffing her mittened hands into her jacket pockets.

Music plays, muffled by the walls, and it grows steadily louder as you climb the stairs. The third and final floor has its doors open and people mill about outside and on the staircase to talk and enjoy a bit of quiet away from the main noise. More than a few say hi to Clarke, and she offers a small wave to the lot of them.

“Raven inside?” she asks, pointing.

A man reclined on the top step taps the lip of his beer bottle against his chin. “Last I saw she was mixing up shit in the kitchen.”

“Anyone throw up yet?”

He grins. “No, but you’re early.”

“Great. That’s just great, Murphy,” Clarke says, tugging you closer by the hand. “You’re helping me out if anyone does.”

His eyes roll and he shrugs, but you have a feeling that it's not a ‘no.’ “Isn’t that a girlfriend job?”

You catch gazes with him, and there’s a look of mischief in his eyes as he brings the bottle to his mouth for a sip. Clarke, however, doesn’t respond, and you don’t get much time to dwell on it before she pulls you into the apartment.

The actual apartment itself is a hallway and interconnected rooms, people collected in clumps and couples in corners. A stereo plays a collection of rock christmas music in the living room, the couch full and standing space slowly getting there as well, but you don’t get much time to observe. Clarke leads you to the end of the hall, opening a door that turns out to be a closet.

Clarke strips herself of her mittens, stuffing them in her coat pocket and then off comes the scarf and finally her jacket. She hangs them up on an available coat hanger before turning to you. “Jacket,” Clarke says, holding out her hand. “And anything I can start you off with? I’m going to see if I can quickly find Raven in the kitchen and say hi.”

You shrug out of your coat. ‘What are my choices?”

“Well.” She tilts her head. It’s a beat or two before she continues with: “You know, I’m not quite sure.”

“Surprise me,” you say, the corner of your mouth lifting in a small smirk..

Clarke nods her head. “Whisky it is.”

You eye her curiously, but her face is impassive and gives nothing away. “Sure,” you say, apprehensive, handing her your coat, and when she turns to hang it next to her own there’s the slightest of smiles on her face.

“Mingle,” she says once she turns around, her hand on your lower back and pushing. “I’ll come find you.”

You stumble forward, glancing back at Clarke who simply shoos you in the general direction of the living room, and you go somewhat reluctantly, looking back after a couple steps to find Clarke lost to the mess of people mulling about in the small kitchen. So you decide to wander.

There’s a couple faces you can pick apart from the crowd as vaguely familiar, though most likely they’re people you’ve run across cramming for finals week in the library. Not that the off chance of running into somebody you knew swayed your decision to come. Your social circle basically consists of Anya and the fencing club and that’s more than enough for you. So when a girl from across the room spots you, eyes widening, and immediately begins her trek through the throng, you wonder if there was something you missed.

You don’t recognize her, but she seems to recognize you. “Lexa?” she asks hesitantly, almost trying to hide behind a red singles cup she holds in her left hand.

“Yes?”

Her face changes immediately. “Oh my god, hi! It’s so nice to finally get to meet the girlfriend.” She holds out her hand and is quick to add, “I’m Niylah by the way, a friend of Clarke’s.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say, unconsciously reaching for her hand, lost somewhere between the word girlfriend and it's relation to Clarke. Your brain short-circuits and it’s a second or two before it can reboot. Luckily she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Yeah. We suffer through art history together. She talks about you all the time.” She lets go of your hand. “This is a little late, but congrats on the big win. I’ve been trying to get my girlfriend to run with me. So far it’s a no go, but maybe one day.” and she shrugs, a smile stealing its way to her mouth.

It’s an expression you’ve become rather familiar with. “It was certainly an experience.”

“With someone like Clarke I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She nudges you with her elbow, impish, but her face is quick to soften. She looks at you then, and there’s something in her eyes you can’t seem to place. Admiration? A bit of relief? She taps her fingers against her cup and her eyes dart away. “She could use someone like you though. To keep her grounded.”

“Niylah?”

Both of you turn at the sound and you spot Clarke just a few feet away, a drink in each hand. She steps in close to you, handing off your drink which looks suspiciously close to whisky, and then pulls Niylah into a one armed hug.

“It’s so nice to see you,” Clarke mutters into her hair, giving a tiny squeeze for emphasis.

Niylah is quick to reciprocate. “The feelings mutual.” She pulls away slightly, face serious. “Quick--question six, Mrs. Edie’s exam. Renoir or Degas?”

“Degas,” Clarke says without hesitation and Niylah tips her head back and groans. Clarke pats her shoulder.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom and cry now.”

“Text me sometime?” Clarke says before she has a chance to escape off to the bathroom to mope, catching Niylah by the wrist. “We can catch up.”

Niylah smiles softly at her, and for a moment you think there’s more in common between the two of you than you realize. “You can count on it.”

You both watch her go, Clarke by your side, and you raise your cup to your mouth for the first cautious sip. It most certainly is whisky. You clear your throat and Clarke chances a quick glance, hiding her smile as best she can behind the rim of her cup. The second sip is easier than the first and you both wander into the living room to find a place to relax.

The second you’re through the threshold, Clarke gets waved over and you follow. The people on the couch scooch to make room until there’s space for both of you to sit, but the fit is still a tight squeeze. You end up half tucked behind her, Clarke’s arm overlapping yours, and she pats the back of your hand.

The old movie How The Grinch Stole Christmas plays muted on the television, and you find yourself watching it as Clarke carries on a conversation with her other neighbor. You’ve seen it before when you were young, and the nostalgia makes it easy to lose yourself in it. You quietly nurse your whisky, watching the poor dog tumble his way down the slippery mountain slope.

“You don’t have to drink it,” comes Clarke’s voice, soft, and you know better than to look, but you do anyway. Squished this close, you’re nearly nose to nose with her, and your eyes do this embarrassing back and forth between her eyes and then, for a fraction of a second, dip down to her lips.

You pull your gaze away quickly, focusing instead on her hand over yours and that subtle and subconscious graze of her thumb across your knuckles.

You give your cup a little swirl and the ice cubes shift against the plastic. “I like it,” you say, settling the cup back on the arm of the couch, held upright by your loose grip, and your attention returns to the movie.

“Still.” She pauses to watch you. “It’s not a problem. I can get you something else.”

But you don’t get to say anything else. The room is suddenly awash with wolf whistles and raucous laughter. It takes a moment to realize the entire room has its eyes on you--well, technically behind you, and you shift to look over your shoulder. What you find is a woman in a santa hat sporting the largest grin. It takes a second more to see the mistletoe hanging over your head.

“Raven,” you hear Clarke grit between her teeth.

The threat has zero effect, the mistletoe dangling on its string above your heads. “Come on, Clarke, don’t ruin christmas.”

“Raven,” Clarke repeats.

“Clarke,” Raven pouts. “Just one kiss? Your girlfriend is practically dying of loneliness.”

You don’t want to get pulled into this, but Clarke looks at you and it’s as if she doesn’t know what to say. The apology is written so clearly on her face it may as well be stamped across her forehead and you don’t know why it wedges this thorn into your side. She looks unsure and the longer she stares, the more the peanut gallery gathered around you eggs her on.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks, eyes resolute but her cheeks positively red. The person on her other side pokes her in the ribs and she swats it away, the blush stretching to her ears. She wrings the sleeve of her shirt in her fingers, avoiding your eyes as the chants of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’ grow in volume in the wake of her question and the deja vu isn’t lost on you.

And you give her this smile. “Of course.” Because it’s nothing you haven’t done before.

(somewhere among the mess a voice shouts ‘gay!’ and yes. Yes you most certainly are)

She goes to cup your cheek but she hesitates and it’s just the tips of her fingers along your jaw. Your heart stops anyway, though. It trips over its own feet and stumbles and your breath hitches the moment you press together with her.

(her lips are as soft as you remember)

Your foreheads meet with a gentle thud and you exhale through your nose, content on letting the feeling last as long as she’ll let it. There’s a hesitancy in the absence of adrenaline and the second you feel her retreat you make no move to follow.

The show, no matter how brief, is more than enough to placate your audience, and once Raven moves onto the next couple by the stereo, the attention shifts and you’re left to your own devices.

That doesn’t mean you open your eyes. At least not right away, lingering as long as you can in the moment and the feelings left on the tip of your tongue.

“Sorry,” she mutters and you can feel it, her breath warm and smelling vaguely of peppermint schnapps.

“What for?”

You feel her shrug and you pry your eyes open, blinking a few times, and it's like being woken up from a good dream too early. But what greets you when you do, Clarke’s warm eyes and red cheeks still close, is a dream all itself.

“Things, I guess.”

You lean in without thinking, dipping to place a chaste kiss on her cheek. There’s the slightest movement as she accepts it without protest, quiet, blinking, shifting to study you softly afterward and you’d say the whisky made you brave. But it’s just one drink and there’s no one to blame besides yourself.

Clarke’s sighs, audible, and she leans into your side, resting her chin on your shoulder. The conversation drops and you watch the rest of the movie in relative silence, the noise from the party drifting as Raven and her band of followers roams room to room. It’s sometime after the credits when it finally dies down to an extent.

The kitchen remains a hubbub of noise, however. Glasses clatter, ice spills, people laugh. After a minute or two Clarke hauls herself up from the couch and you miss the weight immediately, so you pick yourself up and follow.

You get another set of drinks, watching as Clarke whips something up after shooing Raven away from the alcohol and you forget about the kiss halfway through your second mixed drink. You get caught up in a discussion about the education system with a group of student teachers, but Clarke remains a point of reference in the corner of your eye. She spends her time mothering a pair of incredibly drunk boys who can’t seem to stop giggling when they ask her for increasingly absurd drink names. They don’t notice when all she hands them is watered down juice.

“This is the good stuff,” one of them mutters, a pair of sunglasses askew on his head. The other laughs into his juice and Clarke rolls her eyes.

She finds you when they’ve finally passed out, hunched over on the island, their sleepy snores this quiet undertone among the kitchen noise. She steps close, presses her face to the back of your shoulder and you acknowledge her presence by turning your head, nudging her gently with your chin.

You have a few more drinks and then call it quits. The exhaustion settles in to stay sometime around midnight, and you want to leave before someone actually does puke and you and Clarke are left to clean up the mess. You go out into the hall where it's quiet to call an uber and then shuffle back into the apartment to find Clarke.

She’s back on the couch, smushed in the middle between Raven and the two drunk boys from earlier, watching the commotion with mild interest. She spots you over by the entryway in a matter of seconds and smiles, turning to say something to Raven. The other woman grins, drawing Clarke into a hug that is impossible to escape from and she succumbs to the inevitability. It lasts a minute at least, but Clarke manages to slip away after one last squeeze, pulling away just barely and then scampering over to your side.

Her hand finds yours and the world melts away and all you’re left with is just the two of you in that hall, the muffled music and laughter. The hallway is dark and your head is fuzzy and she’s already close enough to you that there’s no reason to reach out for her.

“Are we dating?” you whisper, almost a tease as you watch her shuffle through the closet for your coats.

“No,” she says, blunt despite the softness she manages to coat that word with. You find yourself staring at the redness in her cheeks--on the small upturn of her mouth and that tick of a smile, and you find yourself wanting to kiss her all over again. “No, we’re not.”

Your ride home drops her off first and you watch her amble up the sidewalk to her apartment through the frosted backseat window.

#clexa #clarke griffin #lexa #woop there it is #part 2 of the #cc au #one more to go

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rynhaswritersblock · 4 years

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giant teddy bears (hc) | p.p.

summary: first dates are awkward, peter sucks at dance dance revolution, and the night ends with a giant teddy bear and something sweet.

warnings: IM SORRY I THINK THIS ONE IS A BIT LESS CHAOTIC THAN THE OTHERS IM SORRY I KNOW THAT'S LIKE MY BRAND LOL BUT I JUST AAAAAAAAAAA

+ + +

- are you ready?

- i'm listening...

- no that was weak come on guys!

- i said ARE YOU READY?!

...

- i think we can do better than that

- i said ARE YOU READY?!!!!!

- YEAHYEAH!!!!!!

- i'm so sorry i just watched a gif of sebastian stan doing that thing where he gets super hype and then just starts laughing but i really harvested that hype energy

- pro tip: go back and read that first bit in seb's voice you Will Not Regret It

- after writing one normal imagine, i am back to writing another hc

- the next one will be normal though LOL

- guess what

- chicken butt

- jk IT'S TIME FOR THE ARCADE WITH Y/N AND PETER!!!!!

- HELLS YEAH

- y'all r never gonna guess what i'm doing

- i am listening to one direction WOW

- heart attack is an underrated song 😔

- you guys said the emojis in italics made you lose ur mind so

- they're staying

- fuck it slant 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

- fun fact i got pretty far into writing this and then was like "Hmm... no yeah This Ain't It" and so we're back and we're switching up the prompt a little bit

- so YAY

- so peter's balls finally dropped or something idk and he got his bitch ass together and asked you out!!!!!!!

- yay peter!!

- he was super nervy while doing it y'all were just walking home from school as per usual and this is how it went down

- y'all were passing the local arcade

"y/n- did you, uh, did you wanna go to the arcade tonight?"

"ooh yes, that sounds like so much fun"

"awesome... it's a date"

- and even though peter muttered that last part

- YOU HEARD IT

- who has super hearing NOW bitch

"a date?"

- you look over at peter and quirk a brow

- but on the inside ur like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

- YEAHYEAHNASDBFKSDNGLSFNKDC

- penis man gets flustered as FUCK

"oH-! well uhhhhhhh only if you, uhhh only if you want it to be"

"looks like i'll be dressing slightly better than normal"

- at this point y'all are at ur apartment building so you quickly peck him on his cheek (we're confident today ladies and gays!) and run up the steps, waving as you shut the door

- peter's in Fucking Shock.

- eyes wide, cheeks Red As Hell, standing there like Nobody Move! 0_0

- it takes some weirdo person idk to bump into him as he walks by to get him out of his trance

- (he jumps and turns to look at them, throwing his arms in the air like ?? before just sighing)

- (then he remembers Holy Shit I HAVE A DATE WITH Y/N AAAAAAAAAAAA and sort of like Skips away like how he does in far from home after the kiss you get the deal)

- u make sure to put on ur Cutest Fit

some inspo <3

- IM KIDDING

- jk the Ball Pit Dress Blanket Thing is a look and a half 😼

- in case u were wondering (no one is) this is what i would wear:

- when reading fics i Always have to have what im wearing in mind otherwise i am very bothered idk why

- anyways thank u pinterest for the style inspo

- shameless self promo my pinterest is in my bio and we can send each other memes on there <3

- ofc u can choose ur own outfit 😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌

- Not Me putting on jeans and feeling Fancy 😂🤏👋

- N E Ways! u put on ur dope fit and get all nice smelling n shit

- hair all pwetty

- cue (queue? i hate this word) that scene in homecoming of peter getting ready for the dance

- except he doesn't wear a suit (DEFINITELY WONDERS IF HE SHOULD THOUGH) and instead opts for this fit:

- Mhmm..... yea.... Yup.

- look at the SHOES

- anyways i think peter would wear that One Fit from the beginning of hoco with the blue sweater over the button up or maybe something a bit nicer idk

- the look i put is superior 😔

- he's finally ready and smells gr8 and hair is done just how he knows u like it

- may is fucking spitballing tips like a madwoman

"give her all your attention, peter"

"let her win most of the games, but don't make it look like you're letting her win"

"oh and god peter BUY HER A GIANT TEDDY BEAR"

- peter's like Yup Yup Got It May on the outside but on the inside he's fucking taking notes like the nerd he is

- bae

- just as you finish ur final touches ur phone buzzes

whale penis On my way :)

- fyi a whale's penis is called a dork 😌 the more u know 😀😀😀😀

- you quickly text him back and before you know it this Puta is in front of ur door and his heart is going ZOOOOOOOOOM

- but since the two of you are so close and in sync he can usually hone in on your heartbeat even from a far ish distance so he focuses and finds your heartbeat easily

- ur heart is racing too and it makes him feel better

- he finally gets the balls to knock on ur door and Does Just That

- you open it SO FAST (you were secretly standing just outside the door waiting for peter but he doesn't have to know that)

"hi, peter"

- the look on peter's face

- he in Awe

- u look so pretty!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAa

- this is a lovepage for that little 'a' at the end of that scream. idk why it makes me smile. it's like the underdog

- i need to fucking Restart my Brain jesus christ

- i get attached to little things so easily MOVING ON

- Beter finally regains himself

- shit excuse me

- 🅱eter finally regains himself

- there we go

"you look.... wow"

- ur face gets SO HOT

"thought i'd go for something other than leggings and oversized t-shirts"

- aka my whole wardrobe

- Very Basic White Girl of me

- (assuming the Fit ur wearing is the picture i put) (if not you can just ignore this little bit) ur like cleavage or whatever is out and it is Definitely Not What Peter's Used To Seeing!

- the Collarbones

- Sexy

- u catch peter's eyes linger on ur chest for a second and u 0_0 for a second

- but then it's like YAY FOR ATTRACTIVE FEATURES

- THANKS PUBERTY????????????

"you look wow as well"

"oH well i dress like this pretty normally i think it's really not that big of a change i probably should've dressed better-"

"you always look good, peter"

- Faking Confidence! hoping peter can't hear ur heart banging against ur sternum!

- but he can... Little Shit

- VERY RED FACES FOR THE TWO OF YOU

- VERY FLUSTERED

- peter is such a gentleman

- waits for you to lock ur door before holding out a hand nervously

- you take it ofc and he intertwines ur fingers and sort of Rubs His Thumb AGainst Ur Skin???? when i put it like that it sounds weird

- i appreciate writing headcanons because i don't have to think things out so that they sound pretty i can just Braindump and y'all r like Yea!! 😀❤

- a very nice feeling <3

- the two of you walk down the sidewalk together

- eventually the awkwardness of Woah We're On A Date!? is gone

- peter starts swinging your hands and you can't stop smiling

- a few people look at the two teenagers just giddily and dramatically swinging their arms together and laughing as they walk down the street

- but those people find it very cute

- y'all talk about the weirdest shit too

- peter rambles about his theory of there being a multiverse

"i mean, what if there really is a multiverse? like, i refuse to believe that we're the only living beings in this whole universe, much less believe that this is the only universe. and, when you think about it, it's like a whole new set of doors of knowledge are suddenly there for us to explore, i mean it just completely changes how we understand the initial singularity. we're talking about an internal inflation system and then how would that even work with all the quantum-? it's insane-!"

- he looks over at you and you're just smiling

"sorry"

"don't apologize for being a genius, peter"

- the ffh reference 😼

- his insides are like lkdsfhskjdfbg at that

- you also have ur nerd moment (i'm making this about reading because.... I Think We Can All Agree)

"what i don't get is all the imbeciles at school who think reading is stupid. they're all like, 'i haven't read a book in like two years! ha ha!' and i'm like 'oh! no wonder you're so stupid!' because not only do they think it's quirky for whatever reason to not read, but reading genuinely makes you smarter and they're all missing out on it! moreover, the feeling of getting sucked into a book and going on the story with the characters and feeling everything they're feeling and when you finish the book it's like holy shit i can't even process this and- oh i'm rambling"

- peter's just looking at you in awe

"this is why i like you"

- NOBODY MOVE

- you Cannot Breathe for a second and the two of you stop walking (still holding hands doe)

"you..?"

"i did ask you on a date, didn't i?"

- you scoff

"you muttered that it was a date and the only reason that fact was established was because i heard it and acted on it"

- peter sighs exasperatedly, still grinning like the Fool He Is as he lets go of your hand to swing his arms dramatically

"well, sorry i'm not super smooth and suave all the time!"

"yeah, cause you're never smooth and suave"

- now he :o

"hey-!"

"that's why i like you, too, parker"

- SMILE GETS EVEN BIGGER

- BIG CHEESY MOMENT

- the two of you clasp hands again and you hug his arm as you continue walking

- i wanna hug a boy's arm

- you get to the arcade and he opens the door for you

"m'lady"

- he's such a dork i hate (love) him

- now here u guys....

- guess who's like genuinely never been to an arcade...

..........

- 🙋‍♀️

- it me!

- yes yes we know i have no life

- SO BASICALLY

- i'm just gonna like fucking Spit-Ball the adventures of y/n and peter at the arcade

- if ur confused rn i am too

- OKAY

- SO U WALK IN

- imma walk up to him and imma push him and imma say I HAVE AIDS no wait thats so strong hold back, savor it, BUILD to that

- i know i didn't get all the words right whatever

- at first it's like Sensory Overload! but then 🅱eter drags you over to the front desk and y'all get ur tickets

- and then it's STRAIGHT TO THE PACMAN BOOTH

- he looks so FUCKIGN CUTE cause his tongue is like sticking out as he focuses

- y'all try the claw machine SO MANY TIMES

- not you managing to actually make it work and getting a spider-man toy

- nOT YOU GIVING IT TO PETER AND HIS CHEEKS ARE JUST 🔴

- the slant on that emoji i'm fucking losing my mind

- you absolutely crush him at the basketball game thing

- and y'all play that thing that has the weird seats or whatever and you're racing

- he lets you win

- y'all KILL IT at dance dance revolution

- peter trips over his feet and you laugh So Loud the people around you are like o_0

- uhhhhh what the fuck else is at an arcade

- i just KNOW i'm gonna forget something and y'all will be like BUT WHAT ABOUT THE _____

- my apologies in advance

- at the end of the night y'all get pizza from the little restaurant they have (idk if that's an actual thing arcades do but fuck it now they do)

- and peter wins you a giant bear and you smile SO BIG!

- peter can't stop smiling at u and u both r so so happy

- guys i need to get a graphic design is my passion in here.....

- getting a bit worried cause idk where to put one 0_0

- not sure where to go with this now... may just read some fics to get inspiration and completely forget to come back to this <3

- i promise i won't i wanna get this up tonight AAAAAAAAAAAA

- okay i will be back after i get inspo

- update it's been an hour and i got distracted have yet to find inspo i'll be back

- update part 2 i went downstairs to get a snack to Fuel My Brain and ant-man and the wasp was on so... watched that

- FUCK INSPO I CAN DO THIS MYSELF

- but i have the brain of a strapless croc.... whatever

-OKAY

- SO YOU GOT YOUR BEAR RIGHT

- YAY

- then you can peter are like "we should probably go" cause it's getting late and it's new york and yes peter's spider-man but y'all are on a date! and we don't want to get attacked!

- huzzah!

- so you leave

- holding hands

- (screaming inside)

- ur other hand is just holding the large ass bear to your chest and peter cannot stop SMILING

- the chaos level has gone down i'm sorry i'm tired

- here's some normalcy!

- you start walking home and see delmar's and peter's like "MR DELMAR WILL GIVE US FREE SOFT SERVES :D" so. you go to delmar's

- you walk in still holding hands and the Second mr delmar sees you he (¬‿¬)

"what brings you two kiddos in so late?"

- peter's BLUSHING

"we, uh, we went on a date SO YOU HAVE SOFT SERVES RIGHT?"

- he's so fucking flustered and it's adorable

- mr delmar just laughs

"on the house just for the lovers"

- now who's blushing

- your name

- "your name" i was feeling spicy huh

- I HAVE TO PACK FOR MY TRIP TOMORROW

- HAHA OOPS

- mr delmar hands you the ice creams and y'all thank you

- he winks you sly bastard

- the two of you walk out and sit on the bench outside to eat your ice cream

- hands are feeling lonely cause you needed to hold your ice cream 😔

- at first y'all are just silent and then you look over at him just happily licking his ice cream

- he's got chocolate ice cream next to his mouth and you laugh

- he turns to you

"what?"

"messy eater"

- you mumble as you raise a hand and wipe it off with your thumb

- you wipe your thumb on your napkin and look back up at peter and suddenly the air has changed cause he's just staring at you or your lips really and oh wow now the air has left your lungs and your heart is racing

"can i kiss you?"

...

- peter tastes like chocolate.

HERE'S A MEME TO MAKE UP FOR THE LACK OF GRAPHIC DESIGN IS MY PASSION

- what if we kissed on the jouch? 😳

- hi lizthearies shoutout to our pinterest convos

- alright story = over

+ + +

THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE AND FOR WHAT

ily all, treat yourself and others with kindness (dream with harry had me crying within the first five minutes i love him so much), and WEAR A MASK (unless you're in a safe place aka not the US lol)

AND DONT FORGET TO CONTINUE SIGNING PETITIONS AND SPEAKING OUT!! BLM IS NOT A TREND!

#peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagines #marvel #mcu #spiderman #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #fanfic #fluff #writing #peter #parker #thomas holland

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