#I imagine that Brooke and Jake share a bed. Or at least a room | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pacman-tattoo · 7 years

Text

connect [rich g. x fem!reader x jake d.]

( Can you do a Poly Rich x Fem Reader x Jake fic? Preferably where the reader is a big geek and likes to cosplay. (Probably met when reader was doing the costumes for the play) )

ok but i love this

ok this also went from ‘big geek who likes to cosplay’ to ‘geek, likes to cosplay, does costumes for drama dept. and knows shit about theatre’ because i couldnt resist tbh

this is 10,000 words. brb gonna go die

pls dont expect this from me since this was just something that i got rly rly into writing and got rly carried away

warnings: uhhh none that i can think of other than general language but let me know if im forgetting stuff

Alright. You could do this. All you had to do was come up with costumes, take measurements, make everything by yourself, and have everything ready in time for dress rehearsal to begin - along with keeping up with schoolwork, going to Hobby Lobby (which, thank fuck you were getting a huge discount for, because otherwise you’d basically be destroying your own shit in order to make anything) to get everything you needed, and basically do everything your average person needs to survive. So basically, you were ready to die a bit more inside and start multitasking - and lose sleep, but that was normal. What wasn’t normal was the show you were doing costumes for. When Mr.Reyes mentioned doing Midsummer, you imagined you’d be spending your nights sewing costumes for fairies - not... zombies. But you forced a grin and told him you’d do your best, and clutched your sketchbook to your chest, the paper with the cast list and roles jammed in, and the script for the play sandwiched between binders in your bag.

This was fine. You’d go and watch one of their rehearsals to get an idea of how long everyone would have between costume changes, and Mr.Reyes would be speaking his vision to you as you would hastily scribble notes down, basically becoming a bobble-head as you tried to take into account everything. You’d start doing homework during classes, read online for whatever book and bullshit your way through any quizzes. Maybe you could copy some (or almost all) answers off of Christine if she’d let you. Then eventually you’d start spending your last class taking a nap with Christine in the drama room while the rest of the class did whatever - or working on whatever schoolwork you could if you weren’t tired.

The things you did for costume design.

Christine was the first person you measured. She’d been through this numerous times before, telling you her height and weight happily and smiling at you. Her smile fell at one point as you were measuring her chest.

“You might want to be careful, [y/n],” she said softly, “I mean, I don’t mean to be rude but...” She glanced over to where the rest of the cast sat, chatting among themselves. “I don’t think they know how this works?”

“You don’t sound rude!” You chirped, “they’re new to drama, right?”

She nodded. “I don’t mean to sound mean or anything - I just thought I should warn you that someone might take offense to you asking their weight? Sorry, I know that sounds kinda weird-”

“Nah, it’s cool, Christine,” you shrugged, “I’ll explain that this is just for me to know and that this won’t be shared with anyone else. Thanks for the heads-up, though.”

Christine only smiled. After her, you had Jake Dillinger next on your list. He gave you the information you needed without question, and you took to measuring. After the awkward silence began to creep in between you, he finally spoke.

“Do you do this a lot?”

You hummed as you looked up. “Measuring people?”

“Yeah!” He smiled, “like... costume stuff.”

You nodded. “It’s kind of my passion.”

Jake smiled at you. God, you knew how many people would kill to have Jake Dillinger even look their way - and here you were, tape measure around his waist without a second thought to it while you were fairly sure you had at least one pair of eyes on you. It didn’t click until half-way through measuring his inseam that some of these people probably have never seen anyone taking anyone’s measurements.

Well, this was going to be fun.

Next was Rich Goranski. He raised a brow when you asked for his height and weight, but the moment you were about to launch into your ‘I need to know this because it’s legit important for costuming-” speech, he shrugged and told you.

“You do realize how this looks, right?” He said, slightly smirking while you slightly slapped at his leg. “What?”

“Move your leg.”

“What?” He repeated, before moving his foot slightly, “oh.”

“How does this look, Rich?” You said, looking back up at him.

“You don’t know?”

“Enlighten me.”

After a pause, he only frowned. “Never mind.”

That’s what you thought.

Jeremy was fine. He might have been somewhat awkward for a second, his eyes kept flickering from a spot on the wall to you as you measured anywhere below his waist, but he was quiet and didn’t ask questions and let you work - taking any instructions without hesitation. Brooke was similar, although much happier and barely hesitated to give you her weight and height. Heck, she actually complimented you on your dress at one point - something you’d made earlier in the year. Jenna was similar, although much chattier - which was definitely fine. You actually liked it, compared to how quiet everyone else had been while you’d taken their measurements.

Then came Chloe. You’d known about her and Jake’s relationship in the past, so maybe that was why she’d been glaring at you the entire time you basically breathed around Jake. But she smiled.

“Height and weight?”

She hesitated. “Why?”

You sighed. “This will stay between you and me - I just need it for costuming reasons.”

Chloe clicked her tongue before answering your question. Barely half a second later, she spoke once more. “I saw Jake was talking to you.”

“And so did Christine and Rich and Brooke and Jenna.” You shrugged, “look, Chloe, if you’re trying to say there was anything going on - there wasn’t. I took his measurements, he asked if I do this a lot, and I told him I did since costumes are my thing. Heck, we haven’t talked before today, so if you’re worried about anything between us-”

“I’m not worried,” she snapped. “I just-” She frowned as she watched you fumble with the measuring tape, “I wouldn’t want you to get any ideas since Jake obviously has his eyes on someone else.”

You finally looked up after straightening out the tape. “We’ve barely ever talked before. I’m not going to fall in love with him after one talk.”

Chloe only stared at you for a moment, before letting you finish up your job. You shut the folder you kept, making sure all the papers were secure, shoving your measuring tape into your pocket, and snatching your bag from a chair. You thanked them for being patient, forcing your smile as you make a comment about how you’ll pick up supplies and get things done as soon as you can, only receiving a halfhearted response from everyone but Christine and Mr.Reyes, which managed to evoke something from both Jeremy and Jake, which in turn managed to get the rest of the cast to give you more than you’d expected.

Well, that really showed you how fickle people could be. Not that you needed it - but still. You weren’t sure whether it was Jake or Jeremy that made them change their minds, but you left without thinking too much into it.

You had work to do.

A week later and you’re already buried in your work. The contents of your room have practically been shoved into the closet as you invested all your time into each little detail in each costume. You spent your days either working on small details while in different classes, spray painting shoes during drama, or scribbling in answers to homework due the next period (or day, if you were lucky), courtesy of Christine. If you had a chance, you’d crash on the small, cheap couch in the drama room for a bit, and then you were back home and sewing and (rarely) burning your fingers on hot glue.

It was hell, but it was worth it.

The rustling of paper and plastic bags caught your attention, snapping your attention away from the warming glue gun, which wasn’t warming up fast enough for your liking. There stood Christine, admiring the different pieces of costumes that were strewn about - the bare bones of Brooke’s dress that still needed the bows fixed and lime green details, Christine’s own dress hanging on a hanger only needing tiny touch-ups, a shirt you found for Chloe that you had yet to touch, and one of Rich’s costumes already near completion.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You need a break. C’mon,” she said, sitting on the edge your bed, “I brought food... and more hot glue sticks.”

“Yes!” You smiled, hopping up. You shoved your backpack from it’s spot, sitting cross-legged as you took one of the Chipotle cups from her.

Christine sat on your bed, unfolding the bag as she hands you your usual order. You thank her and almost immediately break into your food. Sometimes you wonder how you ended up with such a great friend, considering she lets you copy off her work without question during your sleepless weeks and memorized your order (not that you haven’t done the same, but still). Then again, ten years of friendship have made the two of you this close. Sleepovers and doing theatre together until high school - when you decided you didn’t like doing it as much - and movie nights where the two of you screamed at stupid horror movies or shifted uncomfortably at random sex scenes or jammed out to movie musicals; all built up your friendship over the years, even if there were a few fights from time to time. In the end, you two were closer than anyone else you two knew.

“Jake asked me to come to his Halloween party on Friday,” she said as she opened the container containing her own order.

“And?”

“I think I might go.” She shrugged, “he’s so sweet, [y/n]. He suggested that we go as prince and princess.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled, “do you still have that-”

“Renaissance costume? Yeah,” she smiled, “it still fits! I mean, it was only a year ago, but still.”

“Well... have fun, I guess,” you shrugged. She stared at you.

“I was... actually going to take you with me? Jake said it’d be okay, and you’ve been pretty stressed about all the costumes, and I just thought you could use a night out-”

You traced circles into the condensation forming on the cup, awkwardly taking a sip. You did have a costume, so it wasn’t like you weren’t prepared. Albeit it be based off of a video game character, it was still something. “People are gonna say I’m a geek.”

“So? People know that I’m a theatre geek. Besides, if anyone says anything, at least you have the satisfaction that you made your costume yourself!”

You eyed the pair of long-fall boots in the corner of your room, the portal gun you’d ordered resting against them. Maybe you’d at least ditch the portal gun for Halloween - you didn’t want to risk damaging it, considering the house would probably be full of drunk teenagers. You looked back to Christine.

“I’ll go if we can have movie night on Saturday. Me, you, and a couple bags of discount Halloween candy,” you brushed a lock of hair behind your ear.

“No horror movies,” she said. You frowned.

“Fiiine. No Singing in the Rain.”

She was taken aback, “but [y/n]-” She paused, “actually, I have something better. I’ll pick you up.”

The backyard was the quietest place, for some strange reason. The music wasn’t threatening to knock pictures and paintings off of the walls, there wasn’t the blazing heat of a hundred teenager bodies - quite the opposite, in fact, and you were wishing you brought some sort of jacket - and the lighting was dim. Sure, it wasn’t dead silent - people littering the porch and lounging around the pool (or, if they didn’t care enough, they stripped down to next to nothing and jumped into the icy water before letting out a scream at how fucking cold it is), but it wasn’t too much. You sat in a porch swing, hugging a pillow and swaying back and forth as you wondered where Christine was. Maybe you’d convince her to leave a bit earlier than the two of you had planned, and you’d crash in her bed since fuck the couch, the couch is always cold.

The swing suddenly jerked back, sending you immediately gripping onto the back and arm. When you turned to confront the fuck that decided to throw themselves into the spot next to you, you were met with the familiar face of a certain boy who asked you if you realized how ‘this’ looked when you measured him. He sort of grinned at you, as you sink back into your spot, clutching the pillow closer to your chest. Just what you needed: Rich Goranski.

“Y’know, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he began suddenly, not caring to greet you, “but Christine n’ Jake both mentioned you were around here somewhere, so...”

“I’m taking a break.” You ran your thumb over the corner of the pillow. “From costumes,” you added on, “Christine’s making me.”

He nodded and smiled again. “Good. You deserve to let loose sometimes.” He paused, “who are you?” You looked at him, before he just gestured toward your body.

You glanced down to your costume. “Just a video game character.”

He didn’t respond at first, but the moment your attention drifted back to the pillow, he spoke. “That’s cool. I’m Jason,” he said, “from the movies? Friday the 13th?” The mask gleamed in the low light from overhead, and you could barely see the red streak peeking out slightly from underneath it, boldly standing out against golden brown.

You sort of smile. “I know. I like horror movies.”

“You do?” He sounded genuinely surprised. You didn’t blame him, honestly - especially with the reaction you had earlier when all he really did was sit next to you.

“Yeah. I mean, I get fucking terrified, but they’re still good.”

He chuckled a little, reaching up and pushing at the edge of the slipping mask, poising it back at the top of his head, “you wanna grab a drink?”

“I’m fine.”

Rich pressed his lips together, obviously not expecting you to reject his offer. He pushed back slightly, basically swaying the swing back and forth slowly. “You do costume shit often?”

You had to admit - you weren’t fond of his word choice. But you shouldered your thoughts, squirming uncomfortably against the wood, “yeah. Kind of my passion.” You nearly decided against it, but you were already speaking, “I made this,” you gestured slightly toward your outfit. “And the boots, too,” you tapped your fingers against the metal curving out of the back.

He didn’t speak, just staring. “Can I?” He reached out a hand. You slowly nod.

You barely knew Rich Goranski - at least, personally. He sprung up during sophomore year and was Jake’s friend, and has slept with numerous girls if the rumors surrounding him were anything to go by. Plenty of people didn’t catch his attention - you and Christine were never the object of his eye, as were many of your friends - but the ones that did seemed to be the popular, gorgeous girls that seemed fawned about by everyone. You heard about how he was one of those guys who’s focus was basically getting into girls’ pants and to watch out because his fingers like to roam or some bullshit.

But here he sat, right next to you, tracing over the detail of your boots. His attention didn’t wander to your thighs or chest or anything, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips as he let out the softest gasp at the metal curve of the brace of the boots. Rich seemed genuinely interested, soaking in every part of what would be a complete cosplay if you had your portal gun - and heck, you kind of regret not bringing it if your boots were enough to stun him. For a moment, the cool Rich Goranski who makes stupid sexual comments faded away. For a moment, you saw someone else.

And within a moment, his hand jerked back and he was gone. He leaned back, gave you a half of a grin, and eased back into his usual cocky, too cool for this shit persona. “I’ll, uh, see you later,” he stood, the swing drawing back a little too quickly.

The swing threw itself forward, and you nearly fell out if it weren’t for Rich, quickly catching you by the shoulders, his fingers warm against your bare skin. He chuckled softly, tracing circles in your skin with his thumb.

“You alright?” He said softly. You dumbly nodded, movements slow as you leaned back. He smiled again, and for a split second, you swore you saw the fainted, thinnest pattern of a circuit creep onto his features, etched out across his freckled cheeks ever so faintly. “Good. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to someone as cute as you.”

His touch lingered a few seconds more before he stepped away, making another comment about how he’ll see you later. The warmth of his touch seemed to haunt your skin, the circles he traced feeling as if it had been tattooed there, just as a reminder that that was real and Rich had just been talking to you. You dismissed the thoughts quickly, standing slowly and stretching, bones popping softly. You’d find Christine and see if you two could leave. Passing out in Christine’s room sounded amazing, and the promise of sleep sounded like it might be able to wash off the ghost of a touch.

You eventually found her on the couch, talking to some kid in a cyborg costume - Jeremy? You remembered his face and his body too well, honestly, but his name seemed to slip your mind - albeit it looked more like he just wore a onesie to the party as a last minute option. You couldn’t really judge - he seemed happy. Whether it be from the fact he was talking to Christine, because who wouldn’t be happy talking to Christine, or because he was at this party or because whatever, you couldn’t be sure.

“Hey, [y/n]!” She smiled, “you remember Jeremy, right?”

Awkward kid that kept getting nervous when measured below the belt. “Yeah. Hi,” you said, sinking into the spot next to Christine, waving at Jeremy. He sort of awkwardly smiles - that sort of smile that’s just oozing with damn it her friend is here. The sort of shit you often saw in movies.

“Anyway, you were saying?” Christine said, looking back to Jeremy.

He stared, looking from her to you before deciding on whatever he was about to say. “I was wondering if, uh, you wanted to go out with me?”

Oh shit, he actually went for it. You looked to Christine, before snagging the keys out of your pocket after seeing how tense she had immediately grown. You whispered, “I’ll go get the car. Meet you in five.” And left the living room as quickly as you could.

Thirty minutes later and you’re almost to Christine’s house, listening to her ramble about how Jeremy used to be kind of a sweetheart in the past - he didn’t really talk to her, but he was “kind of adorkable” whenever she saw him. Awkward, but adorkable. And now he’s changed and he’s changed from a dork to a dick sometimes, being one of the popular boys who hangs out with Rich and Jake.

You ditched your boots in the car, following her into her house, listening to her now talk about the shit that Jake pulled and how she dumped him after seeing that he wasn’t over Chloe. Within the next few thirty, you had showered and had donned the comfiest of pajamas and crawled into bed next to Christine.

When you woke up, she was crying.

“It’s Jake.”

buzz

“They’re saying Rich burned down his house-”

buzz

“Jake had to jump out of a window-”

buzz

“[y/n]-”

You took her phone, it buzzing to life endlessly against your palm. Rumors were flying, blocked by your palm “hey, c’mon. Halloween candy, movie day. Singin’ In the Rain. Alright?”

Her arms were wrapped around you within seconds, her face hot with tears and buried in your neck. “... Yeah. Alright.” She felt your arms wrap around her, and you peek at her screen. Numbers she didn’t know, numbers you’d never recognize, kept spitting rapid-fire across the screen.

You shut off her phone. Sure, none of it was directed toward her, but jesus it was a lot to take in - especially because you knew where Christine’s mind was, even if it wasn’t an active thought. There went multiple roles - roles she and Mr.Reyes probably couldn’t handle alone. You traced circles in the thin fabric of her shirt.

“Everything will be alright.”

click click click

“He-ey, [y/n]!”

click click click

Was it rude to speed up when the other person was on crutches? Well... at least you had somewhat of a reason. You were Christine’s friend, and you still weren’t completely sure how she felt about him - so you’d play it safe and avoid him as best as you can. But you slowed eventually, turning to face him, smiling a little.

“Hey, Jake,” you said, awkwardly shoving your hands into the pockets of your dress, rocking slightly on your heels. “... How are you?”

He doesn’t seemed phased by the fact you were kind of ignoring him, but smiles ever brighter now that you are talking to him. “I’m great!”

For a second, you swore he didn’t even realize he broke both of his legs. “That’s good.” You sort of smiled, “where’s Chloe?” Fuck, why did you ask that-

“I’m... not really sure. Probably with Brooke,” he said, “hey, have you finished any of my costumes?”

“You’re still in the play?” You asked slowly, before he nodded.

“Yeah! It’s been pretty great, and I can still do most of my stuff, so... why not?”

You nodded slowly, “I’ll talk to Mr.Reyes about a costume parade tomorrow, since almost everything's done,” dear fuck, was that a lie, “and I’ll make any fixes necessary!”

Jake nodded, still smiling. He had no idea what a costume parade was, did he? Whatever - he was smiling and he’d learn eventually.

Time to buy as many energy drinks and stay up finishing every costume you could. Scratch that, finish every costume because you needed to. Would Christine probably get mad you were pushing yourself like that? Probably. Were you going to tell her? Nope. At least, not until after everything was done.

“Tomorrow I won’t be here to help you all with costume changes.” You announced, standing next to a rack of costumes backstage, “so I ask that you all please be careful and to help each other if possible. Yes, you might miss a cue since this will be the first time,” you ignore the look Christine gave you, “but I will be here specifically to help with the quick changes after that. I’ve spent weeks making these costumes with quick changes in mind,” you plucked Jeremy’s reversible off of a hanger, “which is why I’ve kept most things simple and things that don’t need much help getting in and out of. For example, this-” you hold up the jacket- “is what’s called a reversible.”

You slid your arms into it, it hanging slightly longer due to Jeremy being a bit of a string bean, “on one side, it looks like this. But,” you removed the article of clothing, flipping it inside out, “it becomes this when reversed. Hence the name: reversible.”

At the lack of questions, you went on. “I assume you all have been informed of the costume parade? Basically, all you all will be doing is trying on your costumes and I’ll be discussing any changes that need to be made. Understood?” You barely had any reaction, before forcing another smile and continuing, “good! I’ll be sitting out in the audience, so just come line up at the front of the stage when you’re all in your first costumes.”

At the lack of any protests, you were out n the audience, planted in a seat next to the kid who does lighting - Josh. He didn’t look up, eyes pinned to the phone in his hand as he switched from app to app, not really giving a shit. Eventually, after moments of dreadful silence, he looked over to yu and smiled a little.

“Costume girl, right?” He said, and you realized the smile had been more of a smirk, as if he was planning something. You shrugged off the thought - he wouldn’t be that stupid, messing with any of your costumes... unless he had a death wish.

“Yeah. Lighting boy, right?” You replied. If he wasn’t going to even ask your name, you wouldn’t use his.

But he chuckled. “Yeah. Right.” He looked back to his phone. “So I hear you and Jake are... something.”

What the fuck. “We aren’t? Where did you-”

“I dunno. I don’t just ask a cute guy’s best friend shit about how to woo him when I like him,” he shrugged, “I get my friends to do that shit so that I don’t fuck it up halfway through saying his name.”

“That doesn’t mean-”

He cut you off, “plus, not naming any names, but a certain someone kept blabbing about how Jake never shuts up about you sometimes.”

You rested your hands in your lap. How many times had you and Jake actually talked? Then again, how many times had he and Christine said a word to each other?

Jake was cute - you couldn’t deny that. But... did you really know him? At all? The question weighed down on you - and to no one but Christine, it was obvious you were distracted as you made small comments about each costume. You all but completely skipped over Jake, dealing with the thought that he was talking about you proving to be more difficult that you first hoped. Soon enough, you packed up your shit and left, practically dashing to the school parking lot, jamming your key inside the car and throwing your shit into the passenger seat.

Jesus, fuck, you needed to be alone. Just for the rest of the day. You had plans you had to take care of tomorrow.

The hospital was quiet, the only noise being the soft bustle of nurses and family members or friends and such. Your steps felt like they were echoing around you, your bag hanging low on your back as you searched for Rich’s room. Eventually you find it, knocking softly first before slowly pushing the door open and slowly walking in. The lights were dim and you almost left, only to end up lingering for a moment. Was he asleep? Or... had he not woken up?

The pale light of a cloudy morning flooded in the room, brushing over Rich’s features and causing the faintest glint of light to reflect onto the floor from one of the balloons. You felt like an intruder, standing in near silence as Rich breathed, burn scars creeping slightly up his neck and into sight. How badly was he hurt? Hell, how did the fire even start? He was fine when he was talking to you, wasn’t he? Fuck if you knew. Part of you was glad that you and Christine had left earlier - but still rested the pit of dread in your that maybe you could have stopped this or something. Maybe you could have helped him, even if you weren’t sure how. The gentle, doe-like eyes that greeted you as he stared in wonder at your effort, your sleepless nights, your patience - all wrapped up in a pair of fancy cosplay boots. His eyes were burned into your memory.

You should go. Maybe you could come back in a few hours and maybe Rich would be awake-

“.... [y/n]?”

It was broken through a yawn, but Rich had definitely called your name. You turned away from the door, and his eyes were on you, squinting as he tried to make out your features before he suddenly smiled at the sight of you. You sort of smile awkwardly, walking in but pausing a the light switch, reaching up only to be stopped by Rich.

“Don’t. I... like it dark in here.”

Whatever. His decision, right? Your hand fell back to your side slowly, and eventually you walked over to his bed. You hesitated to speak at first, but finally settled on the only question you could muster up, s you wrapped your fingers around the straps of your bad awkwardly. “... How have you been?”

He frowned slightly. Oof. Probably not the best question to ask. He answered with a soft, “I’m here.”

“A lot of people miss you,” you said, cautiously sitting at the foot of his bed, ready to move back up if necessary. He doesn’t say anything about it. “If anyone wanted to find your locker, they could. A lot of notes and shit are all over it,” you forced a smile. “It’s really sweet, honestly.”

He doesn’t respond at first. Rich just sat there, eyes on you as he tried to think of something - anything - to say. Gone was that cocky, flirtatious exterior for a moment. He was unsure, trying to muster up any words. “What have they been saying about me?”

Holy shit, Rich Goranski has a lisp. You sort of smiled at the thought - what a cutie. “Different shit. I... think there’s a couple people try to curve the rumors, but-”

“Yeah. I get it.” He frowned.

“Rich?” You were going to regret it, you knew it, but you couldn’t shake the desire to ask. “What happened?”

He doesn’t answer again.

“The play’s going well,’ you said, breaking the silence.

“Good. Is... Chirstine mad about-”

You cut him off quickly, “no! Definitely not, dude. No one could be mad at you.”

“What about Jake?”

“Jake’s... Jake. He hasn’t been holding anything against you, honestly,” you said slowly.

“How’s Jeremy?” He suddenly asks.

“Jeremy? He’s... still Jeremy, I guess.”

“Alright.” He paused, studying your face. How tired did you look? Fuck, you knew you should have put on something - just enough makeup to cover the bags under your eyes at least. “Have you been sleeping?”

You tensed at the question. Maybe not as much as you should... Fuck, you downed a energy drink just an hour ago to give you the strength to live through Sunday and not sleep until five in the afternoon.

Apparently, your silence was enough of an answer. “Go home and sleep,” he said softly, “I’ll still be here, i-if you want to come back-”

“Yeah. I’ll be here the day after the show.” You stand, “we can talk more then, alright?”

He nodded. He wanted to say something, but he left the words unsaid as you slowly leave the room. He looked over to the bear sitting on the table next to his bed, and frowned. “Fuck.”

Jake missed one of his cues the first night you helped him. Could he help it? He had a cute girl helping him in and out of his costumes. He liked the way you’d gently smooth out a wrinkle in a shirt or the way you’d smile after making sure everything was right. Was it stupid that he thought about your fingertips running across his chest as you blindly found the edge of his jacket, and that the fact your arms were around him for barely a minute drove him crazy? Fuck, he wasn’t sure, but you were cute and it distracted him because you were so serious about this and he didn’t wanna mess up but how could he focus when he had a cutie like you hanging around him, specifically there for him. Everyone else was fine on their own for the most part - maybe you had to zip up Brooke’s dress and help Jenna at least once, but other than that, you were the center of his attention.

Was it bad that he really liked that? Fuck if he knew.

He was going to ask you out. Sbarro? Sbarro. Sbarro was a good option - who didn’t like pizza? He at least knew you did, considering one night Mr.Reyes ordered pizza for all of you before the second run through of the night. Then again, maybe Sbarro wasn’t a good idea then - you’d probably be tired of pizza. Maybe just the mall in general - he’ll try to pay for you if he can and maybe you two could just talk and maybe there wouldn’t be someone to steal the attention away with their performance art.

Did that sound needy? Fuck, it probably did. He’ll have to figure out how to ask you out. Hopefully Christine didn’t say anything to you - then again, she didn’t seem like the person to, and... she was oddly okay with him subtly bringing up the idea of dating you.

"I can’t believe it,” you hissed softly, “I spent weeks making costumes - and now Jeremy doesn’t even fucking show up!”

Jake frowned. You were pissed.

“I mean, Jake, you broke both of your legs and you’re here. I just... I don’t know,” you murmured. Your gaze fell to the floor, your arms crossed across your chest as you held back tears. You worked so fucking long and Jeremy just straight up blew off the entire play. Now Mr.Reyes had to make time to get through Rich’s changes, and Jeremy’s and-

Jake’s hand was on your cheek. “Hey,” he cooed softly, “it’ll be alright. Jeremy will be here - he wouldn’t blow off something this important.”

You looked up at him and he was blown away. God, you had beautiful eyes. “You think so?”

“Yeah!” He smiled, slowly tearing his hand away from your cheek, gripping the handgrip tightly. He hesitated for once, unsure about the timing, but decided hes go for it. “Hey, [y/n]? I was wondering if maybe you’d-”

“Jeremy!”

The two of you looked up as Jeremy strolled in, usurping your attention away from him. He could tell it was taking everything to prevent yourself from marching over to him and chewing him out. Maybe he’d tell you after the show - give you time to calm down since you were practically burning, hatred oozing out of every pore. He watched as you stared, watching Jeremy talk to Christine, holding up something before watching her turn and walk away from him.

“Places for scene two, people!”

Jake left you standing alone, seething as you stared down Jeremy. If looks could kill… Jake left you after a few moments, hesitating slightly.

You kept staring at Jeremy. Something was off. He seemed… anxious, uncertainty beginning to practically drip from every inch of him, his hands still clutching some pink shoe-box he had drawn out of his bag. What was wrong with him? He used to be different - acting cool and so sure, save for Halloween night. He moved, intending on running out on stage - something that’d ruin the show for sure - and before you could stop him, Mr.Reyes was already there, hand curled around his arm, fingers digging in and likely leaving bruises. He spat something in his face, only to push him back, exiting onto the stage.

“[y/n]!” He said, voice shrill as he grabbed you by the shoulders. “You haven’t drank from that beaker, right?”

You’re confused, staring him down. “Dude, that’s a prop - I’m not going to-”

“Good! Fuck, I need you to go out there and take the beaker-”

“Jeremy, that’d ruin the show for Christine, I can’t-”

“No, you don’t understand-”

“I’m sorry that some of us care about the show! Seriously, call time was an hour ago and you’re late-”

“[y/n], I wouldn’t-”

You were caught off guard by the sound of Brooke’s voice becoming rougher as she spoke her lines, filled with an newfound passion. You looked back to Jeremy. “What. Did. You. Do.”

He tensed immediately, “I need you to get that beaker.”

You nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He tore away from you. You’d apologize to Christine later, as you crept into the shadows of the curtains, putting on the headset, hearing soft humming.

“Josh?”

He’s immediately quiet, “huhwhat-” and, you assume, scrambling to sit up. “What? You aren’t supposed to be on here-”

“I need a blackout on stage.”

“Uh… it’s not the end of the scene? I mean, I’d do it but I don’t have a death wish right now since my life’s been pretty baller-”

“Fuck, Josh, I need-” The door swung open, and in strolled some nerdy looking guy with glasses and a red hoodie, holding up a bottle of red soda. You nearly snapped at him if it weren’t for the relief that immediately washed over Jeremy. You grew silent as you watched the two talk, Josh questioning everything as you then watched Jeremy go near silent before beginning to attack his friend - Michael, you were pretty sure. You whipped off the headset, tossing it down as you went to try and stop him.

“Jeremy! What the hell-” You managed to say, only to be met with the cold wooden floor seconds later.

He had shoved you away, before he tearing himself away from Michael. “It’s taking over my body,” he said, “I need your help - I’m sorry!”

Michael was immediately after him, managing to somewhat hold him down. He nearly spoke to you if it weren’t for the familiar click of Jake’s crutches - and maybe it was better than he ask Jake, considering how Jeremy flailed against Michael’s grasp and considering you probably wouldn’t have been able to do shit with Jeremy writhing like that.

“Jake! This is gonna sound weird but -” he was cut off for a moment, tightening his grip around Jeremy’s wrist as he struggled, “if I hold down Jeremy, can you make him drink this Mountain Dew Red?” He didn’t wait for an answer before tossing the bottle over to him, immediately returning to the task of keeping Jeremy down.

Jake stared at the bottle, eyes catching a glimpse of you. He looked back to Michael, “actually… that doesn’t sound weird at all.”

Pain overtook him, spiraling through his head as the bottle slipped from his grasp. His head hung low with his face scrunched in pain, before it suddenly evaporated from his features, and he looked up. He felt…

Pretty fucking amazing, honestly.

“Jake?” You said softly, standing as you stepped over. “Are you alright?”

When he looked back up to you, you recognized everything. The familiar, faint circuit pattern you swore you had seen on Rich seemed to disappear within seconds. And he smiled at you, unnerving you completely as he reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“[y/n], I feel boss.” He didn’t stop smiling. Dear god. “No,” he said quickly, “I feel more than that. Here, watch-” He said, throwing down his crutches. You nearly scrambled to pick them up if it weren’t for Jake stopping you. “Don’t. I don’t need them anymore.”

Jeremy piped up softly, staring at the phenomenon before him. “It… healed your legs?”

Jake only chuckled softly, “no! But I can’t feel the pain anymore - it’s awesome!” He smiled, “you could be like this too, y’know. Painless,” he lowered his voice as he looked to you, “happy. [y/n], you could be pretty boss with-”

“What’s wrong with me now?” You said, staring at him.

He seemed at a loss for words for a second. “Nothing! But you could be more-”

“Jake,” you tore away from him slightly, “I’m fine with the way I am. I don’t need,” you motioned toward his head, “whatever you have to change me.”

He seemed rejected. The moment Brooke and Chloe walked in, however, you had stumbled into his arms, scared from the sudden appearance. He didn’t feel content, though. There you were, in his arms, warm underneath his touch, and he didn’t feel as good as he should feel.

The voice in his head snapped at him. Kiss her, was spat into his ear, or... get her the Mountain Dew yourself. She’ll be much happier if you-

Then you were gone, out of his arms as you moved out of the way of everything - trying your best to avoid anything. Everything. You were fucking terrified and it showed in your eyes and in the way your arms were folded too tightly across your chest as you only took in everything that occurred before you. Michael had sprinted out after seeing the bottle resting at Jake’s feet, the pool of red soda hiding in the bottom. When the other four circled around him, you broke out of your spot, shoving past them.

“Michael!” You had cried, arms ending up around him as the two of you fell back. When the group parted around you, you were awkwardly squished against him, both of you completely disheveled. You didn’t notice Jake’s eyes pinned to you, the voice in his head cooing it’s bullshit as it mocked him because look at her, she’s all over Mell - she probably likes Michael because Michael Mell is a loser who likes video games and Michael wasn’t like him-

When Christine walked backstage, she was positively glowing. You went to say something, only to realize there was something so fucking wrong and that wasn’t Christine. She was too rehearsed - as if every step had been laid out in front of her, every motion planned down to the exact millisecond, her smile plastered onto her face as she approached Jeremy. She said something to him, and he just stared in awe. You balled your fists, Michael’s hoodie becoming crumpled in your hands. He reached up, fingers brushing over your arm.

“[y/n], right?” He said softly, “look, fuck, I’m sorry-”

You watched Christine lift the bottle to her lips, drinking. And then she screeched. One right after another - Chloe, then Brooke, then Jake, Mr.Reyes, then Jenna - and finally, Jeremy. And then they all collapsed around you, leaving you and Michael to cling to each other as you two let out a scream.

Well. You two were fucked.

A month later, your friend group had grown from just Christine and a couple other people to include not only Jake and Rich, but the rest of the play’s cast. Jeremy and Michael were giant nerds and you actually had plans to go to a con with them, them maybe also in cosplay if they could pull something together in time. The three of you spent the day sending endless selfies to the group chat of you all in last minute cosplays. At some point you fell asleep in the backseat of Michael’s car, and when you checked the group chat later, found a picture with “she slep” underneath it. You expected to see some sort of comments from anyone else, but only saw a “let her slep” from Christine. You shrugged it off.

At least, you did until Rich was sitting at the end of your bed one day, watching you sew a dress for a Zelda cosplay you’d been planning for months. It was only in the bare bones stage, but he was entranced with your fluid motions. He was supposed to be focused on math homework, pestering you with questions over content if he needed it. Heck, that’s why he was there - you were going to tutor him unless he waved you off, telling you to work on your cosplay and he’ll ask questions if he needs it. But he ended up getting through two problems before he gave up, watching your face as you furrowed your brow, humming softly as you continued to work. Fuck, the amount of concentration you had was adorable.

… Adorable? No. No, you weren’t adorable. Well, you were, but you and Rich were only friends. He liked Jake, didn’t he? Jake was cute and tall and kind of interested in him except neither of them made a move toward each other because… because.

Because Jake was conflicted. Rich didn’t know it, and neither did you, honestly - but Jake often sat between the two of you, his heart aflutter in his chest as he realized almost daily that he was absolutely smitten with the both of you. But he was convinced you didn’t like him - you liked Michael because Michael was kind of a dork and you were kind of a dork and why wouldn’t you like Michael? Michael didn’t try to convince you to change yourself. Michael didn’t try to convince you that you could be better if you took some… weird thing that caused a voice in his head - hell, he still wasn’t sure what happened that day. But he remembered what you told him, burning with anger as you recounted the shit he said to you only to realize that wasn’t him and profusely apologize.

Jake liked you. Jake liked Rich.

Rich liked you. Rich liked Jake.

You liked Jake. You liked Rich.

Fuck.

And there you sat, Rich’s eyes practically burning a hole in your back as you worked, not knowing that you were busy shoving thoughts about how soft his hair looked sometimes and how you kind of wondered what it’d be like to kiss him out of mind. He didn’t know your fingers fumbled and that you sort of ended up nicking your skin - not terrible, but breaking the skin enough that there was a bead of blood as you hissed. You heard the clatter of Rich’s binder hitting the floor, breaking up as he’s beside you within seconds, taking your hand in his own.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, “sorry-”

“Fuck, hold on- where are the band-aids?” He said. You stared at him, before softly chuckling.

“I’ll be fine, Rich. It was just a little nick.”

He stared at your finger, before his eyes met yours after a moment of hesitation, “you sure?”

You couldn’t help but smile - was he worried about you? “I’ll be fine, dude. Unless you wanna kiss it and make it better or some shit,” you laughed softly.

Dear god, did you not know how much he wouldn’t mind doing that? Even as fucking joke, it was probably the closest he’d get to kissing you honestly. He couldn’t fucking help staring at you and wondering what it’d be like to smash his lips against yours and run his hands through your hair or what it’d be like to explore every inch of your skin. His thoughts kept running elsewhere and you chuckled as your attention wandered elsewhere. What were you-

“You should probably clean up your binder, Rich.”

He followed your line of sight, only to find that his math binder had snapped open upon hitting the floor, papers askew. He sort of smiled, the warmth of his fingers leaving yours as he walked over, picking it up and throwing it onto your bed. He carelessly snatched up his papers, not caring whether shit got folded or crumpled as he shoved it all into the open plastic - he’d just fix it later, probably.

“Did you finish your work?” You asked softly, bouncing on your heels. He looked to you, swiftly nodding -which was a lie, but you didn’t know that.

Before you knew it, he shoved his messy folder back into his backpack and left you, making up some excuse about how he needed to get home or whatever. He was gone before you could protest in any form, not giving you a chance to muster up any possible excuse for him to stay a bit longer.

And you had to wonder. What made him leave so quickly?

“So… let me get this straight. You like Rich.”

“Mmhmm.”

“But you also like Jake?”

You turned over, resting on your stomach as you watched Christine look through her closet, trying to find a cute shirt. “... Yeah.”

“Why don’t you tell them that?”

“Christine-”

“No, [y/n],” she said, “tell them that you like both of them?”

“Christiiiine,” you whined, “then I’m gonna ruin everything because they probably don’t even like me or - if they did, I can’t have two boyfriends, can I?”

“Who says you can’t?” She shrugged, pulling out a black shirt with flowers on it. “It’s called polyamory-”

“I know about polyamory,” you cut her off, “but I don’t know about Rich or Jake- I mean, they’d probably laugh at the idea, right?”

She frowned as she looked back to you, “why don’t you just… ask them?”

“Christine-”

“Just… try?”

What you didn’t know was that Christine knew. Jake and Rich trusted her enough - and honestly, who didn’t trust Christine? She was an angel and you often considered yourself blessed to be her best friend, honestly. Jake came to her days before you did, mentioning something about how you were cute and vaguely mentioning Rich in the same, love struck way. Rich, on the other hand, had been blunt - asking her for advice straight out only to be told the exact same thing she told you: to talk to both of you.

The situation was this: you definitely weren’t going to make the first move. That means you had to actually mention the idea and kind of confess your feelings for the both of them and essentially make the first move, which was just a thought that absolutely terrified you. Rich wasn’t going to say anything either - more out of the fact he wasn’t sure how to bring up the idea that he’d basically be down for banging both of you (without saying it like that, since he wasn’t sure how you’d take it considering he was... kinda serious about it) without blurting it out. And Jake wasn’t going to say anything, mainly out of the uncertainty about how to bring up the topic at some point.

So that left Christine with the decision that she’d try to push the three of you together, with some help. She may have vaguely mentioned the idea to Jeremy, and eventually managed to convince the rest of the group to get on board with this little scheme. They’d find a way to push the three of you together, since it was beginning to get blatantly obvious that there were mutual feelings between the three of you.

One day, you and Jake and Rich ended up at the mall all at the same time, the rest of the group nowhere to be found. Then one-by-one, texts came in, an excuse given to why the rest of them weren’t there. Sure, it was weird, but Rich won you and Jake stuffed bears out of a claw machine after betting that he could beat the machine, and the three of you ended up getting pretzels so the trip wasn’t a waste at all.

One night you ended up sitting in Jake’s hotel room with both of them, watching some crappy movie. You forgot about the homework due the next day, the impending weight of a test in a few days or weeks, the world outside passing by. For once, you were content. Rich was happy, his head in your lap as you absentmindedly messed with his hair - which was definitely as soft as you thought it would be, honestly, what is his secret? And Jake had rested an arm around you, pulling you closer to him slightly, his other hand resting near Rich’s. You’d barely remember the movie, as you sort of sunk into Jake, his warmth lulling you to sleep. Rich looked up as he noticed you slowing to a stop, your head resting on Jake’s shoulder. He couldn’t lie - he was pretty sleepy too, but the sight of you snoozing away was adorable.

The next morning, you woke up tangled up with Rich and Jake, the awkward imprint of a zipper going down one of your cheeks, and Rich’s arms around your waist and his face pressed against your back. You didn’t want to move - the both of them sleeping soundly. So you didn’t - or at least, you avoided moving as much as you could. You only listened - the rise and fall of Jake’s chest underneath you, his breathing soft and quiet, and Rich at your back, shifting in his sleep, snuggling closer to you. Everything felt tranquil, as if the world wasn’t bustling outside with the business of morning. As if the only three people that existed were you and Jake and Rich. You smiled a little - because, well, that was a thought. Eventually you shut your eyes and somehow managed to realize one thing.

You loved both of them.

The group was conflicted. Because on one hand, the three of you were extremely close and seemed like everything had been resolved and that this was happening. On the other hand, none of you said a word about any of it. No announcement that hey we’re all dating, that’s cool right of any sort, no kisses, nothing that would give anything away. Because, apparently, you three weren’t dating. No matter how much Rich’s hands rested at you and Jake’s hips, sometimes squeezing gently to get any sort of a reaction from the both of you - usually a gentle nudge from you while Jake would become slightly flustered and glance down to Rich. You had the habit of bringing the two of them little things more often than anyone else - setting down one of Rich’s favorite energy drinks in front of him on the days he needed it, or bringing them both coffee and muffins in the morning. Jake would get invested in what you or Rich was doing - plans, current problems, anything and everything.

So then there was a bet. Christine said you weren’t dating officially, and Jeremy sided with her. Jenna had bet that it was just a secret. Michael shrugged and said it hasn’t happened - and after a moment, Brooke agreed. Chloe didn’t bother to look up from her phone, hanging onto every word.

“Why would they hide it from us?”

“I dunno, maybe they’re just nervous-”

“Rich would have blurted it out by now, and [y/n] tells Christine everything.”

“Exactly!”

“[y/n] doesn’t tell me everything. She still has her secrets and I have mine-”

“Christine, we all know that’s bullshit.”

“Oh my god, they’re dating,” Chloe said, breaking the conversation up, “and Jake’s not going to say anything about it yet because this is new to him. Rich respects that, and [y/n] obviously wants to tell Christine but she doesn’t want to ruin everything. Let. It. Go.”

The first time Rich had kissed you was after a convention. You had just gotten back to your house, fumbling with yours keys when he had turned you to face him, smashing his lips against yours. Your keys hit the ground, your hands finding their way into his hair and he tugged you closer to him. It was sloppy and quick, but you didn’t care. Thirty minutes later, you were curled up with your head on his chest and dressed in the softest pajamas, looking up at the phone in his hand as he texted Jake to get his ass over here.

The first time you and Jake kissed was the following morning as the two of you were up before Rich and the house was empty, so breakfast seemed like a good idea. Besides, Jake had bragged enough about his boss cooking skills, it was time to put them to the test. So while Jake searched your fridge for ingredients, you sat on the kitchen island, humming as you watched him. At one point the two of you began making small little comments toward each other, before Jake ended up standing between your legs, forehead against yours. You had closed the distance, pressing your lips against his for a quick, gentle kiss.

A gentle kiss that ended with Jake all but on top of you, hungrily kissing you. Rich swinging into the kitchen was what broke you two up. He chuckled, made some comment as he walked over, getting a quick kiss from Jake - and then another from you - before the three of you teamed up to make breakfast.

And by team up, you and Rich watched Jake make pancakes.

The group found out one day when you had accidentally sent a selfie into the group chat, Rich in the background with a dog that was definitely too big to be called a puppy, captioned with “jake our bf is paying more attention to this puppy than me and i dont blame him” and then a quick “ hurry up and get here before we buy a dog love you” before you shoved your phone in your pocket. You realized your mistake the moment there was a symphony of buzzes and chimes, and you saw literally everyone but Jake or Rich.

“Rich?” You croaked, pulling his attention as your nerves bundled themselves tightly, your hands shaking, “Rich, fuck-”

He was up and to you within seconds, “babe? You alright?” He said softly, only to look to your phone once you held it up. “Wait-”

“Rich, Jake didn’t want us to say anything and I fucked up and texted the group chat and not him a-and he’s going to hate me-”

So Rich did what he could: he called Jake, and within the next hour, the three of you were sitting on the bed in near silence. Phones kept buzzing will calls every so often - Christine being the most predominant of the names that popped up. Jake wrapped an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He wasn’t mad - you didn’t mean to and he saw how upset you were over the entire thing. Sure, the three of you probably would have waited a lot longer to say anything to the group, but at least that wasn’t a problem anymore, right? That picture of Rich was cute.

Speaking of Rich, he had been the first one to break, checking his phone. After all, everyone could learn to love the real Richard Goranski and his lovers. Instead of happiness or anger, you and Jake were met with Rich’s silence. When you looked, you saw why.

First came a chorus of “i knew it” in varying forms, before then there was the realization that none of you had responded. Then the chat turned to love: Christine beginning with saying she supported you three, and then there was just messages upon messages of how they supported the three of you, that they wouldn’t go parading this around the school because who the fuck would do that, that they’d all be here when you all finally decided to say something.

You had to wonder how you came to have so many people like this in your life. First Christine, who you had years of friendship solidifying your bond stronger than steel. Now you had two boyfriends who you adored more than anything, a constellation of pure love developed between you three as you had nights where you three would just sit around and watch dumb movies and eat pizza while making stupid jokes, or dates around the town where the three of you played Pokemon Go and argued about who’s team was better over lunch. The days where you and Rich would find Jake at work, making jokes about how he worked at Dick’s Sporting Goods (one time of which Jake responded with how Rich is “sporting goods,” which ended that conversation as you laughed and Rich grew flustered) or when you started working at Pinkberry and you had both of them with the rest of the group “bothering” you during work. And dear god, how you loved the rest of the group. They all supported you all, refuting any rumors before they could really take off (especially Jenna and Chloe, the two being extremely fast to stomp out anything before they could really start blazing). The three of you had undying support from them: something you all were grateful for. Heck, you had noticed that Christine had put stars by your, Jake, and Rich’s names. When asked about it, she smiled.

“You guys are a constellation. That’s what poly relationships are called!”

For the first time in months, you realized how loved you were. Jake had pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, arms around your torso. Rich pressed a soft, quick kiss to your lips, arms wrapped around you and Jake awkwardly as the three of you laid in near silence, the soft chatter from the TV filling the room.

“Hey... Rich? Jake?” You mumbled, “I love you.”

They had both smiled. “We love you too.”

since people wanted me to mention them:

@love-doesnt-discriminate @fly-like-a-grayson @heatherchandlxrs @linslovelylocks @1two-player-game1

sorry if i forgot anyone!!! this is just based off of the list i have

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