Tate Langdon / Evan Peters One Shots

Jealousy, Jealousy

Tate's POV

Y/N and I have been spending more and more time together lately.

We met at the beginning of English class this year, and clicked immediately over our music taste. I saw she was listening to nirvana, and I had been doing the same. I tapped her on the shoulder, and we talked throughout the entire class about music, books, how much we hate our school, and more.

The rest is history.

We haven't kissed yet, but I plan on kissing her after asking her to be my girlfriend, which I want to do sometime this week. 

I got her a copy of Stephen King's, "The Shinning," and wrote her a paragraph on the opening page. I wanted it to be meaningful, and this book is her absolute favorite.

I know she's into me. I know it, but sometimes at school I see her interacting with these other guys, and I get so jealous. So insecure, because what do I have to offer?

"No, Mike I can't come over today." I hear Y/N mumble as she closes her locker; I'm waiting for her by the entry way of the school like I usually do.

"Come on, why not?" He replies, "it's for school!"

Y/N's face contorts into a look of disgust, she's clearly not interested, but I still feel that familiar sting of insecurity flood over my body.

"Seriously Mike, no." She fires back, "I like Tate."

"Oh, fuck that." Mike scoffs, "Tate Langdon is a fucking loser."

"Bye Mike." Y/N pivots on her feet, turning and starting towards our meeting spot.

My eyes were practically clouded with tears at this point, so I keep my gaze fixed on the ground as she approaches. I don't want her to see me like this, especially after Mike already called me a loser.

"Tate?" Y/N calls for me as I turn and begin walking to the bus.

As I move towards it, trying desperately to get away from her for a moment in order to dry up my pathetic tears.

"Tate?"

I take the steps upwards onto the bus, someone coming between Y/N and I as I quickly make it to the back corner. I don't have to worry about anyone sitting next to me besides Y/N, because nobody else can stand to talk to me.

Leaning my head onto the window, I bring my hand to my eyes and wipe my tears, screwing them shut and trying to talk myself through this before I talk to Y/N.

"Tate?" Her voice coos, as she takes the seat next to me and placed her hand on my shoulder.

"Can we wait until our stop to talk?" I ask her in a whisper, sniffling a little bit.

"Yes," she replies, looking at me with sadness.

I almost expect her to leave me alone, to go sit with someone else or ignore me before our stop, but she doesn't. I feel the weight of her head on my left shoulder, and her touch as she brings her hand to interlock with mine. My heart flutters.

Our stop is the first one, so after about five or so minutes, the bus flashes it's lights and lets Y/N and I off. We live on the same street.

As soon as it pulls away, I sigh, "I'm sorry."

"What?" She smiles at me, "why would you be sorry? There's nothing to be sorry for."

"Crying over something stupid." I shrug my shoulders, my sandy blond hair beginning to blow in my face due to the breeze; Y/N's hair was also awry, but it looks cute on her.

"Why were you crying, Tate?" She stops in her tracks, grabbing onto both my hands.

"I..." I pause, averting eye contact and looking up at the sky, "I heard Mike call me a loser. I thought maybe he was right, that you deserve someone else."

She draws in a shaky breath, "Mike is a fucking asshole."

I smile down at her squeezing her hands a little bit, they look so small compared to mine, so cute in my grasp.

"I don't want any of those stupid boys." She continues, "I want you, Tate Langdon, you."

She puts an emphasis on the last word, and I connect my eyes with hers, suddenly wondering why I ever began crying in the first place. Y/n never fails to make me feel loved, to make me feel wanted.

"I want you, and your taste in music, the books you like to read, I want you and all the horror movies you show me..." she chuckles, squeezing my hands back, "I want you and your sweaters, your blond hair, and your sense of humor. I want your sensitivity, and I want your love."

"Y/n..." I smile.

"None of those guys have anything that remotely compared to you." She interrupts me, "so what they play football, or baseball, or whatever. They're not you, and they never will be. I love you."

"You," I pause, "you love me?"

"I love you Tate." Her eyes begin to glass over, "the moment I saw you, I was done for."

"I feel like a fucking idiot for ever being jealous," the grin on my face is huge and apparent, "I love you too, Y/n."

I release her hands, moving mine to grab on to the curve of her waist. Pulling her closer, I try my best to keep my eyes locked on hers, but the continue to flicker back and fourth from her eyes to her lips. She tilts her head curiously, standing on her tip-toes so that she is within a few inches of my mouth.

"You wanna kiss me, Langdon?" She whispers, eyes flicking between my eyes and my mouth.

"More than anything." I whisper a reply.

With that, she moves one of her hands to my face and pulls me in, closing the remaining gap between the two of us. Her lips move in sync with mine in a dance of desire, of love and lust.

She is mine. Not Mikes, not any of those other boys. She loves me.

Y/n slings her free arm around my neck, and I snake my arms the remaining way around her waist, pulling her taut against me as we continue to mold our lips together, and it feels perfect.

Y/n pulls away, saliva visible on her bottom lip. I bring my hand to her mouth, wiping it off and smiling at her.

"Will you please be my girlfriend?" I ask, looking down at my shoes in anticipation.

"Yes, yes, yes!" She giggles a reply, jumping into my arms.

I wrap my arms around her back, as hers snake around my neck, and I spin her around a few times until she can't stop giggling.

"I'm so dizzy now." She brings a hand to her head as her chuckles die down.

"Come over?" I ask her.

"Oh of course." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, moving to my side and tracing the waistband of my jeans.

I grab into her hand, interlacing my fingers with hers, "we can obviously do some of that, but I have something to give you first."

"Aww a present?" She nudges me.

"It was my original plan to ask you to be my girlfriend," I chuckle, "this kind of just happened, but it's a good present, so I need to give it to you."

She squeezes my hand, "I love you Tate."

"I love you too." More than you know.