#to each other to bring my brain back to life. she was like ‘ryan they are not the same..he just has long hair and nothing else about him is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

badgirlcovenrep · 3 years

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atlas

Alex Chen × Steph Gingrich fluffy comfort one-shot

(I was talking to a friend about the game and we were discussing how Alex is probably still carrying a lot of trauma. And even after everything that happened at the mines we still don't see her really grieve for the whole situation and herself. So- I had to write it, you know?)

Enjoy!

TW: mentions of suicide, death and mental health issues.

It's two months into their relationship now, and they are somewhere in a Californian town, living in a tiny apartment close to the beach. They play together in small venues and underground clubs. Alex bartends and Steph referees for DND campaigns at a nerd bar they found by chance on their first week there.

They're happy. As happy as Alex remembers being since she was- well, maybe nine.

Every day, it's a little like waking up into a dream. Living in an apartment with her first girlfriend, listening to music as they cooked dinner together. Getting to kiss her just because Alex felt like it. Because her heart went a little loopy inside her chest when she smiled. Because she knew Steph would hold on to her waist and make her feel like she was full of electricity.

The 'falling in love' business felt overrated before Steph.

But Being in the middle of it now, Alex doesn't think there's anything better.

Although a part of her still felt quite numb - she guesses it's not something that will go away that easily - and day by day, Alex felt a little bit more like she could breathe... like she was finally letting herself go, at least a little bit.

****

Now that she could comprehend and use her powers, it also seemed as if she'd started to become even more of a magnet for all sorts of emotion around her. And apparently Alex could do it in her sleep too.

The nightmares came in clusters most of the time, a badly cut-together mess of voices and feelings. The lady that lived under them, who lost her son when he was little. The couple from down the street, who were going through a hard time in their relationship. Even the little girl from upstairs, who had terrible night terrors of sharp-teethed monsters reaching from under her bed.

They all mixed inside her head until she woke up gasping for air and sizzling with emotion.

It was rare that she'd have a full dream, one that made sense and completed itself, but when she did they were always about Gabe. About sitting together at the rooftop of the Lantern and sharing a beer. Or climbing trees, like they used to do when they were little.

It was a relief from the usual doom.

And that dream was supposed to be nothing different. Or at least she thought it wasn't.

****

In it, they were at the ravine. A world of twinkling stars shining above their heads. The Colorado mountains all around them creating a landscape that was just as beautiful as it was bittersweet. Alex could see the log she'd crossed, still standing between her and the tiny outcrop of stone Ethan had been stranded on.

She hadn't dreamed of the ravine since leaving Haven Springs, but while she was there, Alex dreamt of it every night. She would see it when her eyes were closed. She could hear it, - the sirens, the terrible, deafening rumble of the ground splitting beneath them. The panic, pounding into her ears.

But this is different. Because when she looks around, Alex realizes she's standing over the elevated plateau, tied to the waist and leaning all her weight against a sturdy piece of rock.

Looking at her from below is Gabe. Lying on the cold ground. A cheesy smile spread across his face.

"Why are we switched?" Alex asks because that's all she can think of asking, as she stares at the rope that anchored her to the ground... to Gabe.

"Beats me. This is all your brain, not mine." He says, and Alex huffs in annoyance, "you know what's going to happen, but you keep coming here."

"I don't have a choice."

"Hmmm..." Gabe hums, but there's some humor in his expression as he stares intently back at her, "and that's exactly why... I'm here because I should say goodbye."

A coldness spreads over Alex's limbs. Around her, the very fabric of the dream dims into darkness as a strong breeze blows past them. She suddenly feels like throwing up.

"What- what does that mean?" It's a stupid question. This is her dream. Alex knows what it means.

Deep down, she knew she'd been conjuring him up for her own sake. Trying to bring back any morsel of relief into the giant hole he'd left inside her heart. However, Alex also knew at some point he'd be gone- she just didn't expect-

"You don't need me anymore, Alex." He says. As if it's that simple. As if she'd ever-

"I'll always need you, Gabe. Of course I need you." The words stumble out of her mouth, and she can feel the hot, angry tears falling down her face.

It feels like a hot iron pressed to the very top of her chest.

Like lava, boiling up into her bloodstream until Alex wants to punch something. The steam that prickles from under her skin, fighting to break free.

Anger always comes first when people feel cornered. It's something she noticed a while back. Out of all the emotions Alex had dealt with the past few months, that, at least, hadn't changed.

"Shit, Gabe. When you died I needed you more than ever."

"But we can't fix that, can we?" He asks, and another wave of anger rips through her. She looks anywhere but him, because Alex feels that if she does, she'll tackle and kill him all over again. But when he says nothing and they're left in the same pocket of silence - the one right before the whole world collapsed - her eyes eventually fall back to her brother. Tied to her and laid on the ground beneath. Looking at her like just as much the goofy asshole she missed so much.

Anger always felt urgent and fast, like a flash going through her body and leaving everything inside it in disarray. It demanded to be completely felt, but only for the moment it took for Alex to decide it wasn't worth launching the nearest object at a window.

Or trying to kill her dead brother.

"You might have needed Gabe. But you don't need this Gabe anymore, Alex. You can do it on your own now."

The fear and sadness that came after? They were usually much, much worse.

"But this is the only Gabe I have."

Those emotions, when mixed, turned into a horrible harmony that paralyzed her lungs and darkened the sides of her vision. They felt just as urgent as anger, but complacent. A beast staring at her from the very bottom of a pit. Tied to her by the waist and trying to lure her down into the abyss.

And, for Alex, the abyss was as deep as a ventilation shaft for a Colorado mining site.

"No, it's not. You'll always have me, Alex. And you know that." Not in the way that matters. Alex wants to say, but it's so redundant. He's the ghost. He should already know that. "And you have Ryan now, and Eleanor, Riley, Charlotte, Ethan... Steph..." he gives her a cheesy smile in the last name, wiggling his eyebrows back at her teasingly.

"Oh, God, way to ruin the moment." Alex can't help but chuckle a little through her tears. Is she blushing? You can't blame her for blushing, right? God, she feels like Diane.

"Hey. Let me have it. One of my only regrets is that I never got to tease the hell out of Steph for dating my little sister... and for being whipped as hell."

"That would have been so funny."

"I knew she'd get along with you but I guess I didn't expect... that. Shame on me. Should've had more artistic vision."

Alex chuckles as more tears run down her face. It's so bittersweet it hurts from the very inside of herself.

"All jokes aside. I'm glad you have her, and that she has you. She's good. Just make sure you tell her I'll haunt her from the grave if her dumb ass breaks your heart, okay?" Alex nods, and her body starts shaking with strangled sobs. So much emotion she just can't let go of. Because if she does, Alex is afraid there'll be nothing left.

"Hey. Don't cry. You can do this, Alex. You know how to live life now."

"I don't want to lose you again, Gabe."

"You'll never lose me. You'll just have to look a little harder." He smiles up at her, pulling jokingly on the rope, "now play your part - or is it my part? You get it."

And then- too soon. (Same as it was that night.) The sirens blast through the mountains, and somewhere above them, a giant explosion blows her eardrums, and boulders the size of cars come tumbling down the mountain.

She barely has time to blink. Barely has time to breathe one last time. Seen as she's Gabe, when she looks up all she sees is the giant rock, flying towards her, hitting her across the torso so hard, before she knows, she's flying way above the ravine, and one last glimpse of the stars catches hold over the veil of her memory before everything turns black.

****

She wakes up in bed, desperately clawing at the top of her chest as she gasps for air. Her lungs feel like they're made of lead, and all around her, she can feel the weight of the rocks, the explosion, the debris, weighing down her body.

Alex pats across the mattress for Steph, who is not there. Another wave of panic washes over her. So strong her mouth turns dry and her head aches as she tries to breathe in, but her lungs can only handle tiny, torturous gasps of half-breath.

Alex dispels a world of curses towards herself inside. Willing her own body to just calm down. In the bathroom, she can hear Steph singing softly to herself- she must have come home late from the DND tournament. Alex told her she'd swing by, but she'd had a long shift and ended up just passing out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Alex hadn't had an incident like this in very long. She could control it now. Most times. It wasn't easy, with being on the road and constantly surrounded by people. Sometimes, she still got more than she could bargain. When she walked across a depressed person on the sidewalk, or heard one of their multiple neighbors yelling at each other through the walls, and suddenly she felt as if the world blended out of focus into a tsunami of feeling.

Feeling that wasn't hers but still felt so much like it was.

Steph helped whenever it happened. For a sarcastic punk rock mess, she was surprisingly stable and so very reassuring.

Just the fact that she can hear her voice. That Steph is there in the apartment with her, is enough to calm some of her nerves, and while Alex still can't keep herself from pulling in gasps of air as she tries to hold in any kind of oxygen, she at least has a plan.

Water. Water will make her feel better, right?

Almost as soon as the idea crosses her mind, Alex's half-delirious brain commands her to get up, but her body feels so very heavy. Like she's really been trampled over by a wave of giant boulders. And as soon as her feet touch the ground, her legs give up under the weight, and she falls onto the hard floor with a loud, heavy thud.

The girl's hands fly up to hold her weight against the bed, and thankfully that means she doesn't face plant the ground, but it sends her heart into a neck-breaking pace, and all air Alex'd been able to gather so far escapes her in a single huff until she's hyperventilating again, hot, angry tears running down her face.

You're so weak. You're such a fucking idiot. Of course, you had to go and lose Gabe twice, who the fuck would want to stay with such a mess-

"Alex, are you okay?" Steph's voice comes, as she opens the door to find her girlfriend sitting on the ground, looking like she might pass out from just trying to get her lungs to work, "Alex!"

In a second she's crossed their room and kneeled by her, both hands going up to her cheeks on instinct, smearing away her tears.

"Breathe with me, okay? We've done this before, you can do it." She always gets just a tiny bit of a scared aura around her when Alex gets like this, never for long enough that she can read it, but it's still there, the tiny flutter of fear, "come on, breathe."

Her eyes go up to find Steph's, her strong, glittering green gaze. Alex might be the one with superpowers, but it was Steph who could so easily reach in and soften her edges like it was nothing. It was Steph who could just lean in and hold Alex's hand against her chest, letting her feel the determined rise of her lungs. Strong. Stable. Even Alex couldn't possibly understand how she did that.

How she always made Alex's breathing slowly come to shaky, deep breaths, crawling painfully out of her dry throat, but still better than gasping like a fish. Inside her, Alex feels the furious hurricane of emotion, twisting itself into the bottom of her lungs, taking hold of every bit of her until she felt like she could throw up.

"Wait here, I'll get you water," Steph says, and Alex wants to complain, she doesn't want to be alone, even for a second.

But before she can, Steph has left their bedroom for the kitchen, and Alex feels as if she's stable enough to crawl into bed, so she does so at a glacial pace. She grabs Shu-Shu, holding her close to her chest as she sits and waits for Steph.

She eventually comes back in with a glass full and Alex gulps it down in silence, unsure if whatever dam of emotion that has taken place inside of her will break if she tries to speak. So she sets the glass back and lies her head down on the pillow, facing away from Steph and the rest of the room as she tries to reel herself back in.

She can hear Steph taking off her boots and climbing into bed, one arm winding around her waist as she pulls Alex in closer.

"Was it the lady from upstairs?" Steph asks, eventually, after they sit in a few long minutes of silence.

"No." She replies, and it comes out so strangled, so broken, a few more tears run down her face. Steph pulls her even closer, a tight, steady pressure.

"The couple again? I swear to God I'll call the police on that asshole this time."

"No." Alex says, and she detaches herself from Steph just enough so she can turn around and look at her, "I had a dream about Gabe." Simply saying his name makes her whole body shake. Steph is looking at her so intensely, Alex has to close her eyes, holding on to the fabric of her shirt with all she had not to explode in whatever terrifying, dizzying bomb of emotion she could feel brewing inside herself.

Alex felt so much from other people it overwhelmed her multiple times a day, and even then, it was nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to how much sheer strength it took from her not to let it blow.

It scared her. More than anything.

"He wanted to say goodbye." She says eventually, "it was- I don't know. This- I- this isn't coming from anyone- How do I get rid of it? It's like it's all inside of me and it's taking up so much space and I don't know how to fix it" The words come tumbling out before she can stop them, and she's rambling through tears.

Steph sighs. And Alex can feel the love and sadness mixed together, blowing from her in waves as she holds Alex's chin, bringing her up so they can look at each other.

"Baby..." there are tears in her eyes now, as she pulls her closer until their foreheads are touching, and they are so close Alex can smell her lemongrass shampoo, "This is all yours."

And such simple words shouldn't hit her this fucking hard.

But it all suddenly makes so much sense-

Alex was numb after her dad left. She felt nothing for months. It was one of the most terrifying feelings in the world, a deep and powerful depression that threatened to overtake her at any given point.

Like her whole body was nothing but dead weight and her brain was way too tired to even try and keep up.

Young as she was, Alex guesses she never realized the first time she felt anything at all after that was when she discovered her powers. The day a boy came to the orphanage and he was so angry it blew her across the hallway. Ever since then, everything around her was a cacophony of feeling. Coming from every direction. Every street corner, every store, every park.

Every moment of her life since she was eleven, Alex could only feel for others.

"I- I forgot." She realizes, half surprise and half so much sadness another sob breaks through her throat.

Now it made sense, the anger, the sadness, the fear, a hurricane of emotion so very powerful it made her ears ring.

"I'm scared." She admits. Because for someone who had been so focused on learning how to exist among other people's feelings, Alex had no clue how to handle herself, "what do I do with all of this? How do I fix it?"

"Alex. Look at me." Steph brings her face upwards until they are so close, Alex can see the speckles of blue in her eyes, "Gabe died just four months ago, and you were there to see everything- then you got shot and thrown down God knows how many stories into a dark abyss that you somehow walked out of, but not before also finding out about your dad's tragic death - and I haven't seen you cry, actually cry, for yourself, even once."

"I- I can't, it's too much. I don't know how, Steph." Alex had learned her lesson. She'd seen her life as it was and survived it. Deep down she knew it wasn't her responsibility anymore - that it never was her responsibility, to begin with - to hold herself together for others. She knows.

But old habits die hard, and Alex guesses it'll take a while before she starts feeling it too.

Because right now, it still felt like the world might collapse if she wasn't there to hold it together.

"Just- give it to me. Everything you have, I can carry it for you." Steph says, with such determination, Alex actually believes her, but she takes her eyes away, trying to avoid the bubbling of tears threatening to jump out through her throat "Let it go, please, Alex. I can't watch you carry it alone anymore."

At that moment, Alex glances at her again, and there's so much pain, so much love in her eyes, that inside Alex, the dam finally breaks and she's choking on sobs. Tears start running down her cheeks as Steph leans in and pulls her closer, one arm around her shoulder and one on her hip, squeezing tight in reassurance.

If she didn't know better, Alex would've guessed Steph was the one with the superpowers, with the way she coaxes wave after wave of emotion out of her with nothing but her steady presence and quick, light kisses she leaves on Alex's head and hair as she holds on to her shirt for dear life.

It overwhelmed her more than anything she'd experienced so far, and for what feels like hours, she just sobs as Steph holds her.

She cries for her mom. Dead before her time, trying to hold them together to the very end. She cries for her dad, dying a slow death deep underground, a picture of the two children he'd never see again dangling around his neck. She cries for Gabe, for the time they'd never have, for the time they did have.

Above all, for the first time, Alex cried for herself. For being the last out of all of them. For the little girl that had to love and lose every single one of them in succession.

And in the middle of all of it, like a speckle of golden light hidden under all the darkness, for the first time, she feels that it could all start to feel alright.

#send me chenrich prompts #i dare you #chenrich #chengrich #alex chen #steph gingrich #life is strange true colors #long post #chenrich fanfic #chenrich fic #alex chen × steph gingrich

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praxeus-13 · 3 years

Note

Hello! So happy to see a new fic blog, especially one that has fics for the Master! May I request a fluffy Dhawan!Master x reader in which the reader is the doctor’s companion but doesn’t want to admit she’s in love with the Master? And you can choose the circumstances, but maybe the master “captures” and hypnotizes her in front of the fam and she accidentally reveals it? Thank you so much! I loved “warmth” a lot. 🥰🥰🥰♥️♥️♥️

Thank you so much! I absolutely loved this request as I was already planning on writing something along these lines. I couldn’t find a way to get the hypnotism to work but everything else is there so I hope you enjoy!

Well Kept Secrets

Pairing: Dhawan!Master x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2800

Summary: (what the ask says)

For: @agentmalfoy24601

Warnings: None

You really hadn’t meant to fall for The Master, but intention never seemed to stop anyone when it came to falling in love.

When you first met him, as O, you weren’t quite sure what to think. He was a bit strange, but still sweet - and while he wasn’t your type, you couldn’t deny that he was very attractive. However, there were a few moments when you would look at O and see someone else, and that person interested you. Looking back now, you knew that you had seen his persona slip, even if just for a second, and that had been what had drawn you to him.

When he had revealed himself on the plane it had only drawn you in more. Of course, you had been terrified in the life or death situation, but you had also felt a buzz of excitement and intrigue. If he hadn’t have left you to die on that plane, you know that there was a chance you would have gone with him.

Then The Doctor had sent him off to the Kasaarvin’s dimension and you had lost hope of ever seeing him again, only for him to show up two weeks later.

The Doctor had taken you all to some market planet, given you a credit stick and told you to go off and explore. Originally, you had been wandering around with Graham, but then you had gotten sidetracked and lost sight of him. You had also lost sight of anything else that you recognised so you had started to amble around in hopes of finding someone or something to help.

At first, you hadn’t even seen The Master, so focused on your surroundings that you almost walked right into him, and you barely understood what was happening when he grabbed your arm and dragged you down a quiet side alley.

When you had finally recognised who he was and what had happened, you had been to shocked to stutter out a full sentence. That had caused him to smirk and cockily ask if he was the only one who could leave you speechless, which only made you more flustered.

Once you had finally managed to compose yourself you asked how he was alive, a question that he had ignored in favour of pushing you up against the closest wall and kissing you. It took your brain a few seconds to catch up with the fact that he was actually kissing you before you started to kiss back. Then he had swiftly broken off the kiss and told you that he’d be seeing you, before walking out of the alleyway and back into the bustling streets.

By the time you had finally made it back to the rest of the group, you had managed to get your brain back to its normal working order. Though, when your friends asked you where you had been you told them you simply told them that you had gotten lost after spotting something interesting, resolving not to bring up The Master at all.

True to his promise, he had shown up again about a week after that, kissing you senseless yet again and leaving with little explanation.

After this happened a few times, always when you got separated from the group, you started to have proper conversations with each other. A first they were only about whatever trouble he had caused on the planet to distract The Doctor with, but soon you had started to talk to each other more and more about your lives. He wasn’t as stingy on details as The Doctor was, but you could tell he was still keeping quite a bit of information from you.

Then he started showing up at your apartment, which was a little bit concerning, but he always knocked rather than just bursting in like you knew The Doctor would, so you didn’t really mind. Soon enough your relationship had changed from just meeting up and making out for five minutes, to meeting up and talking for a few hours. Though it was slow, you felt yourself start to fall in love with this strange alien man.

Of course, this caused a lot of internal conflict, especially considering you were still travelling with The Doctor and the rest of the fam. You knew that they were your friends - practically a second family at this point - but you feared that if they ever found out about your relationship with The Master you would loose them. So you kept quiet and tried to pretend that you weren’t secretly dating the man who had tried to kill you all. Every time the two of you met up on one of your trips with The Doctor was both exhilarating and frightening, and while you loved seeing him all the time you were always worried that one of your friends would catch you with him.

When The Master invited you to travel with him instead of The Doctor several months into your relationship, you didn’t quite know what to say. You knew that you loved him, but you had never been able to say it aloud, and you weren’t even sure if he loved you back. As well, it wasn’t like you didn’t like travelling with The Doctor and the fam; it was brilliant, even if you did end up running for your life on most adventures, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to leave them just yet.

Unfortunately, you had taken too long to give The Master an answer, and he ended up storming off without stopping when you cried out his name, not caring to listen to any explanation you had to give.

That had been a month ago and you hadn’t heard a word from him since, which had only upset and worried you. Even if you weren’t ready to travel with him then, you had hoped that you could still be in a relationship with him. You knew that your friends had noticed your mood, and they had all tried to talk to you about it, but you reassured them that you were okay and didn’t say anything more.

————

Now you were on another adventure with your friends, using it again to distract yourself from debating whether you and The Master had broken up or whether he was going to randomly show up and pretend that nothing happened. The planet that you had landed on was overrun with nature, and the ruins of whatever civilisation had been there previously were barely noticeable.

Somehow The Doctor had managed to find a very large cathedral-like building that was still mostly in tact, which was what you were currently exploring.

Without any warning you were grabbed from behind and pulled into someone’s tight grip, causing you to yelp and try to struggle away. Then you noticed who exactly had a hold of you and you stopped struggling as much, making a conscious effort to not relax completely into the hold that you had gotten so used to after the last few month.

Your friends had turned around at the noises and their faces were now a mix of anger and concern, glaring at The Master.

“Let her go.” The Doctor told him, her tone indicating her worry.

“Well, I would, but I think (y/n) is quite comfortable in my arms Doctor.” He spat his response at her, tightening his grip further, but still making sure not to hurt you.

You were trying to resist looking up at him, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide the love that your expression would hold.

“No, you’re scaring her, now let her go and I might consider giving you whatever you’ve come here for.”

In your chest your heartbeat had started to pick up speed, you could see that The Master was trying to let onto your friends about your relationship, and you only hoped that he wouldn’t actually say anything.

“Hmm, seems I know your companion better than you.” At this comment you finally looked at him, hoping that he would see the look in your eyes and just walk away without saying anything.

He didn’t look down at you though, and just stayed glaring at The Doctor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The Doctor was starting to sound irritated, but there was a hint of fear in her voice as well.

Still trying to stop him from revealing your relationship, you squeezed his hand and tried to get his attention. Unfortunately, he continued to ignore you, and you started to feel much more anxious.

The Master let out a hysteric sounding laugh at The Doctor’s question, and it wasn’t anything like the soft laugh you had grown used to. Though you hated to admit it, he was starting to scare you.

“You don’t even have a clue of what I’m talking about.”

Looking back at the four of them to gauge their reactions, you could see that Yaz and The Doctor were very close to piecing it all together, and Ryan and Graham wouldn’t be too far behind. Instinctively, you pressed further into The Master’s hold, trying to feel some semblance of comfort or safety. Obviously he knew what you were trying to do, he had gotten used to you snuggling close to him whenever you watched a scary movie or had a nightmare, and, either consciously or unconsciously, he started to stroke the back of your hand with his thumb.

“No…” The Doctor’s gasp could barely be heard, but it still caused your gaze to fall to the floor in shame.

You knew that you probably shouldn’t love him, but you did, and now you were going to face the consequences. All you hoped is that after loosing your friends, you wouldn’t loose The Master too.

“Yes.” The Master replied gleefully.

“You can’t- you must have hypnotised (y/n)! She wouldn’t willingly enter a relationship with you.”

“Well, clearly she would, because she did. I haven’t hypnotised her, or threatened her, or drugged her. (Y/n) is with me by choice.” The Master was very clearly pissed off at the implementation that he would do anything to injure you.

Honestly, you were slightly annoyed at it too, the only time he had ever come close to harming you had been on Barton’s plane, and you had gotten out of that alright in the end. You squeezed his hand for comfort again, and this time he squeezed back, calming you down slightly.

“Stop playing games and give (y/n) back.” The Doctor’s voice sounded almost dangerous now, and you were starting to worry for both your safety and The Master’s.

However, The Master seemed unfazed as he ignored her and continued to hold you, “You know it’s true, I can see it in your eyes, but if you’re still having trouble believing it then why don’t you just ask (y/n)?”

Of course he would put you on the spot, you had known him long enough to realise that this whole setup was coming from a place of vulnerability. He was worried that you were going to leave him, that you didn’t care for him anymore, and instead of talking to you about it he was lashing out. It was something that you had been trying to work on with him, but after your hesitation to answer his proposal of travelling with him, he had jumped to conclusions and this was the result.

The silence after he had told The Doctor to question was so deafening that you swore your frantic heartbeat was echoing around the abandoned building. You forced yourself to look up, to look at The Doctor in the eye, and it seemed to be the push she needed.

“(Y/n)?” She didn’t need to ask the question, it was already hanging in the air.

“I chose to be in a relationship with him, he didn’t force me into it.” And then, much quieter, you added on, “I love him.”

Part of you had hoped that no one would have heard what you said, but the room you were in had been dead silent. The Master’s grip on you relaxed in shock, holding you as though you were fragile enough that you could shatter like glass. You tilted your head towards him so you could see his reaction, still slightly worried that he wouldn’t reciprocate.

He seemed to be staring down at you with awe and love, and you couldn’t quite believe that he was looking at you like that.

“You love me?” He asked you, his voice impossibly soft.

You simply nodded in response, unable to form any words. The Master bought one of his hands up to cup your face lightly, as though he was still afraid of breaking you.

“I love you too.” He was almost whispering when he said it but a smile immediately formed on your face.

He leant in to kiss you and you kissed him back eagerly. Unfortunately the kiss was cut short by a not so subtle cough from the direction of your friends.

Still comfortably in The Master’s hold, you turned to face your friends again, feeling your face heating up as you blushed.

“Okay, am I the only one who’s really confused?” Ryan asked, looking around at the rest of your friends for confirmation.

He got a chorus of ‘no’s’ in response and if it wasn’t such a strange situation you might have laughed.

“Yeah, how come you’re in love with the guy who tried to kill us? Cause I feel like I’ve missed a lot.” Graham asked, as clueless as he usually was.

“I’m pretty sure that (y/n) has been secretly dating The Master.” Yaz piped up, and you were slightly glad that she had answered for you.

“Yeah that’s basically the gist of it.” You laughed awkwardly, yet again squeezing The Master’s hand for comfort.

They seemed to mull over this for a few minutes, before The Doctor finally spoke up again.

“(Y/n), are you sure that you want to be with him?” She asked you, and for once it was a question that you could answer easily.

“Yes, I am.” You smiled at her, and you knew that The Master was probably smiling at you.

“Then I suppose I can’t do anything to stop you from loving him.” Then she turned her focus to The Master, “but if you hurt her expect serious consequences!”

He rolled his eyes, “I wouldn’t expect anything less, but I won’t hurt them.”

The Doctor and your other friends then proceeded to interrogate the two of you (though they were mainly focused on The Master) about your relationship. Even if it was slightly annoying, you appreciated their concern and protectiveness over you. During the ordeal The Master constantly acted as though he was extremely annoyed and offended at their interrogation, though you could tell that he was glad you had such good friends - even if one of them was his best enemy.

Eventually the six of you made it back to the two TARDISes, and you all paused outside. He hadn’t bought up the question of whether you would join him in his TARDIS since the first time, and you were still slightly worried that you had missed your opportunity.

Then he turned to you, still holding on of your hands even though you were no longer in his hold, “Want to travel with me?”

He asked with such hope in his expression that you felt your heart melt, even after you had rejected him the first time he was still holding out hope.

A wide grin formed on your face and you nodded, “I’d love to.”

He grinned back and pulled you in for another kiss, much to the disgust of your friends.

The next thirty minutes were spent packing up your possessions and moving them from The Doctor’s TARDIS to The Master’s. That was then followed by teary hugs as you said goodbye to your friends and made promises to call and meet up with them whenever you were all on Earth at the same time. The Doctor made sure that you knew to call her if anything ever went wrong, promising that she’d be there immediately.

Despite the grief that you felt leaving your friends and that chapter of your life behind, you were eager to start travelling with The Master and to see how your relationship would develop. The Doctor, Graham, Ryan and Yaz had definitely become a second family to you, but you knew that this wasn’t going to be the last time you saw any of them.

Holding The Master’s hand, you let him pull you into his TARDIS as you waved goodbye to your friends, before turning around and beaming at him. As soon as the door was shut he pushed you up against it and kissed you senseless - reminding you very much of your first kiss with him.

“Where to first, love?” The Master asked as he brushed a stray piece of hair away from your face.

“Anywhere, as long as it’s by your side.”

#the master x reader #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master

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rwprincess · 3 years

Text

Midnight Sun'd Prologue (Brian Johnson x Fem!Reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 10.5K (She like...20 pages long. Sorry).

Synopsis: My movie/Canon Prologue, but from Brian’s POV. That’s right, I’m Midnight Sun-ing this b*tch.

CW: Underage marijuana smoking, suicidal ideation, self-deprecating thoughts/self-doubt, low self-esteem, swearing, child abuse, parents being terrible, sexuality (since this is based on the movie, nothing is really outside the scope of the movie in terms of content).

Saturday, March 24th, 1984

Shermer High School, Shermer Illinois

Brian knew why he was here. In fact, he thanked his lucky stars that Saturday school, or detention, rather, had been his punishment. If this hadn’t been an extremely out-of-character first offense for him, he surely would have been suspended, or even expelled. His family had made their disappointment clear, especially when his mother told him to find a way to study and make amends today, even if he was asked to just sit in a room with strangers and reflect on what he did. When he arrived in the library, he was surprised to see Claire Standish already sitting there. She, of course, did not look up or make eye contact with him, but he chose to sit at the table behind her nonetheless. Before he could gather the courage to ask her what a popular, polished girl like herself could possibly be doing here, another two figures approached the doorway. Andrew Clark’s large, stocky frame loomed there for a moment before excitedly spying Claire. Again, no attempt was made to include Brian; he was practically invisible at this school, which was a big part of his underlying problems and self esteem here at Shermer High. It wasn’t so much that Brian wanted or needed popular people like Claire or Andrew to notice him. He didn’t really look up to them or desire their attention. It was just that, sometimes, it felt like everyone looked through him, as though he wasn’t even there. Adults acknowledged him, sure. He was polite and an overachiever, the perfect student. But his peers didn’t take much stock in him. He had a few loyal, true friends, but rarely did anyone outside of his particular interest groups reach out to him.

As Brian settled into a seat behind Claire, he took note of the second figure who had entered, the one who came in shortly after Andrew. It was her. Brian had to restrain himself from gawking when she entered the library, as she was one of the absolute last people he could ever picture earning a detention. Brian knew her from his English class last year; he had been stunned by her beauty the moment she entered the room that first day of high school and felt the same nervous, heart-pounding sensation he felt now, seeing her enter the library. He lamentably had zero classes with her this year, but he would see her in the hallways sometimes and that old familiar feeling would come rushing back to him, reminding him of the crush he had on her all last year. Back then, he had sat behind her, across the room and would catch himself staring at her or admiring her answers and volunteered opinions. His strong suit was in the more concrete subjects: science, math, that sort of thing. So the insightful analyses she would give always impressed him, and through them he got the sense that she was smart but also kind. This was precisely why he was shocked to see her here now, having earned the same consequence he had for bringing a weapon into school. But he couldn’t imagine her doing anything like that, anything to warrant this. He not-so-discreetly watched her as she hurried across the room and took a seat in the front row opposite to him. She, like Claire and Andrew, had not made eye contact or acknowledged him. Her seeing right through him hurt more, though.

Brian had sat down, but had not quite unpacked as he was still reeling from the revelation of Y/N being in the same detention as him, and that meant he would be in the same room as her for nine hours. He hadn’t even noticed John Bender stalk into the library, surveying the landscape that he was clearly king of. That is, until Bender stopped in front of him and snapped his fingers to get his attention and indicated for him to move out of his seat. Even if Brian weren’t the type to try to accommodate someone, a people pleaser, he would have followed John Bender’s instructions. Everyone in school knew of his reputation, and while some things were probably a lie (like throwing flaming toilet paper over Mrs. Applebaum’s house), some were definitely true, including his penchant for getting into fights. Brian had never had to fight someone before and he was pretty sure he lacked the capability to do so. Simply put: he would get his ass kicked. So he got up immediately and moved to the next seat over...right behind Y/N. He noticed that she stiffened, sat up straighter, as he slid into the seat behind her. So she had noticed his existence. But from her body language, he assumed that she didn’t particularly enjoy his presence. ‘Great. Perfect way to start this whole shitty day,’ he thought. At one point, Brian would have fancied himself an optimist, but lately that attitude was all but gone...not that his current situation helped much.

He also noticed the girl with black clothes, heavy makeup, and messy hair quickly walk along the outside of the tables and sit behind him, facing away from not only himself, but the entire group. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief, ‘Should be an interesting time,’ he thought while taking stock of her, Bender, the populars, and...Y/N. It still puzzled him that she could be here. Bender made total sense. Everyone knew that he practically lived here in detention. Based on how she looked and seemed to make herself comfortable, Brian guessed that the girl behind him also was a regular here. While he didn’t exactly expect Claire or Andy to be here, he wasn’t hugely shocked by it. Claire probably skipped school or was rude to a teacher or something and Andrew was an asshole anyway. He fit into the jock stereotype pretty well, all brawn and no brains, picking on those that he saw as weaker than him. Maybe that’s why he was here.

Vice Principal Vernon walked haughtily in, looking down on each and every one of them; a lord surveying his fiefdom. Brian’s posture stiffened as he both tried to show respect and unconsciously showed his fear of the man. The last conversation with him had also involved his parents and that was abhorrent, a total disaster. The recollection of the event made him nauseous. Right after he spoke, Claire raised her hand, “Excuse me sir, I think there’s been a mistake. I know it’s detention, but, um...I don’t think I belong in here.” Internally, Brian rolled his eyes. He didn’t really know Claire (he suspected that no one really truly did), but he had always been under the impression that she was full of herself. All of the popular clique seemed to be that way, just full of arrogance. And here she was announcing how she was better than all of them in front of them. Vernon completely ignored her statement and told them it was 7:06, on the dot. Brian quickly looked down at his watch and aligned it to Vernon’s time. He was very particular about organization and precision.

As Vernon started his speech about rules, Brian tried to shift slightly over, get comfortable. But Vernon looked right into him and Brian could swear he saw into the depths of his soul as he said, “You will not move from these seats,” and pointed right at him. He froze like a deer in the headlights and quickly moved back. Brian had almost always blindly followed authority and now was definitely not the time to change that. Vernon continued and Brian only half-listened, looking around to gauge how the rest of the group was reacting, until he heard him say, “Good. So, maybe you’ll decide whether or not you care to return-” He saw this as the perfect time to redeem himself and started to stand up, raising his hand.

“Um, you know, I can answer that right now, sir. And that would be a no for me-”

“Sit down, Johnson.”

“Thank you, sir.” Brian sat back down, gulping. His embarrassment was only made worse noticing that Y/N had turned around to look at him when he started speaking. He wasn’t so invisible now, just his luck.

*~~~~*

There was little to no surprise that Bender antagonized the group. His main targets seemed to be Claire and Andrew, but he was making snide or crude remarks to everyone, and this made Brian very uneasy. He hated conflict and confrontation, which was probably why he had brought a flare gun to school rather than talk to his Shop teacher about replacing his failing grade or talk to his parents about how much he was truly struggling. He tried to take his mom’s advice about just doing work. He tried to convince the others to just write their assigned essays and not end up in a fight, but it didn’t work. He reasoned that he could at least do the right thing, but he couldn’t help but keep getting drawn into their conversations. It was almost like watching a trashy soap opera...or a staged wrestling match. “Go to hell!” Claire screamed at Bender, and Brian looked nervously to the door. Vernon surely heard that and would come storming back in, right?

But he didn’t, so Andy continued their conversation and got in a new dig at Bender, “You know, Bender, you don’t even count. If you disappeared forever it wouldn’t make any difference. You may as well not even exist anymore.” Brian gulped, thinking about his recent and frequent thoughts about how he himself ‘may as well not even exist anymore.’ He was doing...okay since the day he had had a semi-plan to take his own life, but the feelings didn’t just stop. He was still failing Shop, of all classes. He was still a disappointment and burden to his parents. He was still invisible at school, to Y/N. None of that went away when Mr. Ryan found the gun in his locker. Bender turned Andrew’s comment around and said he’d go out and join some clubs.

Now, Brian saw his opportunity to be less invisible, maybe. “I’m in a math club!” He blurted out. No dice. Bender and Claire just continued bickering, ignoring him completely. But he couldn’t help it when he stated “I’m in the Physics Club, too,” in their direction just hoping, praying that someone would acknowledge him. He hadn’t counted on that person being Y/N, though. She’d turned slightly towards him and his blue eyes flickered to hers and he froze. Having been lost in the argument between the others, he had almost forgotten that she was there. She gave him a gentle smile and a nod that made him gulp. He’d suddenly failed to remember how to breathe, how to function and his mind was only filled with a channel of ‘Oh shit. She’s looking at me.’

But then she added, “I’m in the Drama Club.” Of course, he knew that, but it was still nice for her, of all people, to be making conversation with him. He was immediately forced to snap out of it, though, when Bender addressed him.

“Excuse me a sec. What are you babbling about?” While Brian hated the look John gave him (it was much too similar to his parents’ frustrated looks when he was clearly ‘bothering’ them with something), Brian felt compelled to answer. He had wanted to be noticed, to be involved in the conversation, right?

“Well, what I’d said was, I’m in the Math Club, the Latin Club, uh, and the Physics Clu-Physics Club,” he stumbled through his words nervously. He felt regret instantly as Bender turned it around as a slight on Claire, and also managed to insult him by calling him a dork in the process. Still, he yearned for his attention and approval, so he eagerly answered John’s follow up questions. He just wanted to get along with everyone and have them accept him, and even though John was just using his input as ammunition against Claire, he liked that he was at least being included.

*~~~~*

It was a long, dragging morning. It was only around 10AM and topics of conversation seemed to already run out. Everyone was now more or less keeping to themselves. At first, Brian thought about writing his essay, as he said he planned to, but why bother? There were still many hours to fill, and how was he possibly supposed to answer the prompt of Who Am I? He truly did not know. He’d actually been pondering that a lot lately. All of his life he was praised for his smarts, but the ‘real world’ was showing him that that didn’t mean jack shit. Sure, he could understand difficult concepts and dissect complex equations, but that meant nothing if he couldn’t apply it. He thought he was taking the easy way out with Shop. It was meant to be a class he didn’t have to worry about; a stress-free A to keep his GPA up while juggling various clubs and volunteer opportunities to put on his college applications next year. But it ended up being a total nightmare. He was absolutely terrible at it, and he had never failed at anything before. Now the burn-outs and underachievers had the upper hand and were able to make their projects work and look good and he had...nothing. He failed so miserably that it tanked his self-esteem and now he was stuck in an identity crisis. It was much too early on a Saturday to confront those demons, so instead he chose to sit and daydream. And subconsciously, as with many teenage boys, his attention fell to girls. As much as he thought Claire was self-centered and spoiled, he had to admit that she was attractive. She carefully curated herself to be so. She had perfect, beautiful red hair that was never out of place, flawless makeup, perfectly fitting chic clothes...and she was staring into space licking and biting her lip, which had him completely flustered. Y/N only added to it by adjusting and stretching in her seat. Her beauty was more effortless than Claire’s, or at least seemed less...intentional. She did not have the designer clothes and her hair was more natural than trendy but alluring in her own right, and the way she was pushing her chest out was not helping. He could feel the shift and tightness in his khakis and tried to nonchalantly clear his throat, but now Y/N was turned three-quarters around and could clearly see him, so he tried to sneak his hat into his lap and acted like nothing was going on by setting his head on the desk. ‘Oh shit. Oh fuck.’ were the chorus of his thoughts as he could see her quickly turn back around and face forward. ‘I’m sure she thinks I’m a creep now. Great going, Johnson,’ he chastised himself.

Vernon was almost a welcome sight when he strode into the library at 10:20 to allow them to use the “lavatory.” Brian almost let out a sigh of relief. Almost. When they returned to the library and it was clear that Vernon wouldn’t return for a while, Bender started ripping up a book and when he threw it at Brian, the latter took that as his cue to walk away. He spotted Y/N looking through the catalogue of books and approached her. “Hey.” He nodded in her direction, trying to play it cool and seem neutral. ‘Smooth. Great opening,’ he thought. But to his surprise, she actually said ‘Hi’ back and smiled. He had no idea what to talk about and didn’t really think this through, but the black-clad girl let out a startling, “HA!” that made them both jump.

Brain looked back to the others and heard Andrew sarcastically say, “Oh, you’re breaking my heart,” to Claire.

“Sporto?” Bender asked, “Do you get along with your parents?” Brian started to look between the two of them nervously.

“Well, if I say yes I’m an idiot right?” Andrew responded. Bender leapt over the ramp’s banister and started at the other boy.

“You’re an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, then you’re a liar too.” Not only did Brian not like being involved in confrontation, he also hated being witness to it. As Andrew followed Bender, he felt compelled to go break it up, put a stop to this.

“You want me to turn it up?” Bender asked, flipping off Andrew as Brian stepped between them, placing a hand on one of each of their shoulders. They smacked his hands away, almost in sync and he withdrew, but he knew words could be just as powerful as actions.

“I, I don’t like my parents either. I don’t know. Their idea of parental compassion is just...whacko.” Brian confessed.

“Dork? You are a parent’s wet dream, okay?” Bender replied, clapping him on his shoulder. It was a friendly enough gesture, but it actually dealt a devastating blow. Brian knew he was a disappointment to his parents. He was being open and honest with the group and was shut down immediately anyway. “...face it, you're a neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie. What would you be out doing if you weren’t making yourself a better citizen?” Another hit. This one made Brian sink against one of the tables. He hung his head and didn’t even notice Y/N approach him until she softly placed her hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” She offered, gazing into his eyes. He was terrified that she would be able to read him and to see the truth, to see the sad and scared kid he truly was inside. Instead, he stiffened up and sat rigidly, clearing his throat of emotion.

“Yeah, thanks.” He also tried his best to ignore that she was touching him. If he weren’t in detention being told he was the epitome of geek by John Bender, he’d have sworn this were a dream. Bender now moved his disdain to Claire, asking if she were a virgin. Y/N shifted uncomfortably away from Brian and crossed her arms over her chest, but still stood next to him, watching the same drama unfold. Bender and Andrew soon stood in front of them, fully in a heated argument and Bender took a swing. Brian didn’t think twice and reflexively shot his arm up to shield Y/N. Sure, his crush on her might be stupid or silly, but he was not about to let her get caught in this crossfire and get hurt. He watched as Andrew wrestled Bender to the floor and Bender said, “I don’t want to get into this with you, man...cuz I’d kill you.” Andrew let him up and they seemed to separate and cool down, so Brian finally moved his arm back down, assuming the danger towards Y/N was gone but he was on-guard still, ready to move again if he needed to. “It’s real simple. I’d kill you and then your fucking parents would sue me and it would be a big mess, and I don’t care about you enough to bother.” For some reason, this hit Brian hard and he had to look away, look down to escape. But then he heard a click and his head shot up. Bender had pulled out a switchblade. His eyes went wide and he looked cautiously at Y/N who looked just as shocked. They all relaxed a little when he stabbed it into a chair instead of Andrew’s flesh, but immediately panicked again when the door audibly unlatched and opened. They scrambled to get to their seats, Bender quickly striding to the front and sitting far away from Andy so as not to implicate himself. But that meant that he had stolen Y/N’s seat. On her original route to it, she diverted and sat quickly and silently next to Brian. He swallowed hard in response.

Instead of Vernon, Carl the janitor walked in. They collectively sighed with relief and he addressed Brian. “Brian, how ya doin’?” Brian quickly averted his eyes, both embarrassed to be seen here by Carl (he stayed late in many clubs and had built up a good rapport with the man and didn’t need him thinking less of him for being in detention) and by being seen as associated with him by his peers. Carl was a great guy, really funny and nice; accommodated every need each one of his clubs had...but Brian was still a teenager and image was everything and being thought of as ‘dweeb who is friends with the janitor’ was not how he wanted to be seen.

“Your dad work here?” Bender inquired, smirking deviously. Brian just shook his head in response and didn’t answer Carl, either. “Carl, can I ask you a question? How does one become a janitor?” Bender continued.

“You want to become a janitor?” Carl asked, knowing that Bender didn’t really want to know.

“No, I just want to know how one becomes one. Andrew here is very interested in pursuing a career in the custodial arts.” Bender glanced over at Andrew and smirked again, pleased with his implied put-down.

“Oh really? You guys think I’m some untouchable peasant, serf, peon? Maybe so. But following a broom around after shitheads like you for the last eight years, I’ve learned a couple of things.” Carl looked towards Brian and Y/N, “I look through your letters.” Brian thought he saw her stiffen and freeze, just a little bit, as if Carl were addressing her. She suddenly shifted away from Brian and he wasn’t sure what to make of that. “...I am the eyes and the ears of this institution, my friend.” Carl stopped and smiled, “By the way. That clock is twenty minutes fast.” Brian looked at it and then his watch, noting that he was right. He wasn’t sure if he should adjust his wrist piece or not; to go with the time on the wall or the time Vernon was keeping. But he couldn’t be bothered with the choice when Bender stood up and faced his table. He was afraid of what he might do or say to them, but he simply nodded towards Y/N’s seat, indicating that she could have it back.

“I’m good for now,” she said, surprising Brian. He assumed she would have moved back, a moment ago she moved away from him, but now she was looking at him out of the corner of her eye before glancing back up at John, who was raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Thanks for not dicking with my stuff though,” she said.

“Oh, shit.” Bender said “Do you think I should steal something or has the moment passed?” The tension seemed to drop and they all smiled as he went back to his seat, but he turned his attention back their way. “So, you’ve been pretty quiet, what’s your name?” Brian had a bad habit of blurting out. He liked answering questions as it was, showing his knowledge. A lot of the time, it didn’t matter if he was being asked or not. So, without thinking, he responded to Bender’s question and told him Y/N’s name. It was a reflex, but one he instantly regretted, feeling like he just shot himself in the foot. Bender gave him a look and he steeled himself for his worst, for the mockery sure to come, but instead he just looked at her and followed up with “Is that true? Is that your name?”

She didn’t acknowledge his weirdness either. She simply nodded and told John, “Yeah, (Y/N). Or, I guess you could call me (Y/N/N) if you want,” and Brian let out a quiet shaky exhale in relief. That could have been...disastrous. After a moment, while Bender was otherwise occupied, she turned to him and said, “Thank you, for earlier. I mean, blocking me when those two were getting into it.” He felt his heart race; he wasn’t sure she had even noticed that earlier, even though he wasn’t exactly subtle.

“N-no problem.” He responded, trying to restrain the smile creeping up onto his face. He wanted to play it cool, like it was no big deal, like that’s just what manly men such as himself do: put themselves in harm’s way for others.

Vernon came in to dismiss them for lunch much too early for his liking. He didn’t really have much of a chance to talk to Y/N while she was sitting next to him, and as soon as they were allowed to mill about like the caged animals they currently were, the remaining members of their detention gravitated towards Bender near the center of the library. Brian was slightly disappointed when she wandered off into the stacks as Bender looked through books and Claire continued her daydreaming. Not really sure what to do with himself, Brian folded his long legs over one of the ramp railings and sat atop it, hunched over. He looked up when Bender called out, “Hey, Peachy!” There were a few moments of silence before Y/N looked back over in their direction and Brian froze, immediately disliking Bender addressing her as such and worrying what uncouth thing he might say to her. But he just asked her what she could be in detention for, because she didn’t seem the type, which Brian wholeheartedly agreed with. He waited intently for the answer, as every interaction he had with her (or every observation, rather), she seemed so...sweet.

“Oh. Well, you know how in Biology they dissect like, frogs and shit every year?” She looked a little defeated and a blush crept up her cheeks as she continued, “I---sort of stole and freed the frogs.” Brian couldn’t help but laugh. That seemed like something you shouldn’t get detention for, anyway, but it was definitely on-par with the personality he knew her for. He felt relieved that the reason aligned with how he thought of her. She was in here for something nice, and debatably, the right thing. His heart melted a little when she told Bender that she had researched enough to let the frogs go responsibly; that she would have adopted them if they wouldn’t have made it on their own and he couldn’t help but smile in her direction. Bender, of course, moved on quickly, scanning one of the books in his stack to find new material to talk about, to bother the girls with, but Brian’s gaze was still fixated on Y/N. She was running her fingers along spines of books, seemingly in her own world. He felt like maybe it was fated that they were both here, like he was getting a second chance. He still hadn’t really conjured up the courage to talk to her yet, but they were only half-way through their day; there was still time.

“Claire? Y/N? You wanna see a picture of a guy with elephantitis of the nuts?” Bender asked, “Pretty tasty. How do you think he rides a bike? Oh Claire, would you ever consider dating a guy like this?”

“Wait,” Y/N’s eyes lit up and she looked their way again. “Elephantiasis? Like the movie The Elephant Man? Great movie! Really sad though.” Brian grinned at the way she scrunched her eyebrows together in remembering the emotion from the movie. He had seen it, too. It was really good...and touching. Maybe that could be his ice-breaker. Movies were normal things that normal teenagers talked about, right? He didn’t really notice that Bender and Claire were still conversing until it implicated him, though.

“Oh! Watch what you say. Brian here is a cherry.” Brian looked at him, startled.

“A cherry?” He asked, indignantly, cheeks flaring up with a red hue. “I am not a cherry.” He didn’t need Bender calling him out like this, embarrassing him. He didn’t need the obvious association that the nerd was a virgin. Especially in front of beautiful girls, particularly Y/N. She didn’t need to know that he was an inexperienced loser.

“When have you ever gotten laid?” Bender asked, doubtfully

“I’ve laid lots of times.”

“Name ONE.” Bender said, sarcastically, hoping to catch him in a trap.

“She lives in Canada. Met her at Niagara Falls; You wouldn’t know her.” Brian said, prepared with this answer from previous conversations about this topic. It wasn’t the first time he’d been involved in a conversation about virginity that he couldn’t be entirely honest about, nor was it the first time he had been mocked for being a virgin or doubted about the non-existent relations that he didn’t have. Even though part of his brain felt like it was glaringly obvious to the outside world and must have been stamped on his forehead that girls did not typically talk to him, nor had he even kissed a girl before, but he still lied about it anyway. He knew he didn’t precisely have an ‘image’ to protect, but he didn’t want to seem like a total lost cause or dweeby stereotype.

Bender, however, wasn’t having it. “You ever lay anyone around here?” He scoffed and Brian panicked. He had noticed that Y/N had turned back to the aisle of books and was praying she wasn’t listening, and Claire didn’t seem to be paying attention, so he tried to gesture to Bender to keep it down, to let him off the hook before either girl noticed him or this conversation. Bender immediately twisted it around and attacked him with it, though. Brian felt his heart being squeezed and felt overwhelmed, instantly, as Bender said, “Oh. You and Claire did it.”

“Oh, uh I-Let’s just drop it, okay? We’ll talk about it later,” Brian attempted to get out of it again, praying that John would have one ounce of mercy on him. However, Brian was never really very lucky.

“Well, Brian is trying to tell me that in addition to the number of girls in the Niagara Falls area, that presently you and he are riding the hobby horse.” Brian’s eyes slammed shut in embarrassment.

“You little pig,” Claire growled at him and his eyes shot back open wide. He scrambled to defend himself.

“No! I’m not! John said I was a cherry and I said I wasn’t. That’s it. That’s all I said.”

“Well then what were you motioning to Claire for?” Bender followed up, not giving Brian any wiggle room.

“You know, I don’t appreciate this very much, Brian.” Claire sounded more disappointed and hurt than anything, which made Brian feel like a slug, instantly. He didn’t mean to implicate her or to bring her down. He was just trying to hide his embarrassment from John and the girls.

“He is lying!” Brian tried one last attempt to deflect.

“Oh, you weren’t motioning to Claire?”

“You know he’s lying, right?”

“Were you, or were you not motioning to Claire?” Brian hated this. He’d been stuffed in lockers before and yearned for that over the torture Bender was inflicting now. He couldn’t save face; either he was a disgusting creep saying he had had sex with Claire when he didn’t, or he’d have to tell them the truth and feel humiliated at telling everyone he was a virgin. He grit his teeth and chose to go with the latter.

“Yeah, but it was only- it was only because I didn’t want her to know I was a virgin, okay?” They looked almost...shocked by his response, which he wasn’t expecting. He thought it would be a ‘Well, duh, you’re a virgin, Johnson! Who would want to touch you?’ But Claire and Y/N looked surprised. “Excuse me for being a virgin, I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you want me to know you were a virgin?” Claire asked honestly, like it was no big deal. If she only knew...

“Because it’s personal business. It’s my personal, private business.”

“Well, Brian, it doesn’t sound like you’re doing any business,” Bender snuck in another jab and Brian was brought down to what he knew all along, that they were just going to laugh at him.

“I think it’s okay for a guy to be a virgin.” Claire’s unexpected response gave him instant relief. She was taking his side and Bender had no more ammo. Brian perked up even more when Y/N agreed with her. It wasn’t an embarrassing secret for him now because they didn’t mind. They almost seemed to admire him for it. The thought caused his lips to twitch and he hid his smile by leaning his head against his knee.

*~~~~*

During lunch, Bender didn’t have any food, so his appetite turned to targeting the rest of the detainees again. He started in on Claire for a bit, but then came over to taunt Brian. It seemed like it could be friendly, at first, as John just examined his lunch. But as he drew out each item, his tone became more and more sarcastic. “Here’s my impression of life at Big Bri’s house.” Bender went on to mock him, painting his life like it was some episode of Leave It To Beaver where the family would all hug it out at the end. Brian’s throat became dry and he could feel eyes on both Bender and himself, trying to judge his reactions to John’s farce. He hated being such an easy target. He hadn’t done anything towards John personally, but he was still constantly in the hot seat because John could get away with it and the others would laugh and enjoy it. At least Andy fought back...even Claire did. And Bender didn’t even really bother to mess with Allison. She had an aura of ‘don’t fuck with me,’ and he didn’t even touch her as a subject, even though she was just as odd and out of place as Brian. Not to mention, he was wrong. It wasn’t all peachy-keen happy endings at Brian’s house. If it were, Brian wouldn’t be here today.

Still, it was hard not to be drawn in by John, and he watched his next dramatic retelling of his own home life in stunned horror. John’s dad called him terrible names in this act and hit him. “Is that for real?” Brian asked, brows furrowed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe John, it was just that...well, the situation sucked and he needed to be told it wasn’t true. Like a kid hearing that a ghost story was made up and there was nothing to fear. But he knew by John’s pained expression that it was, even before he spoke.

“Wanna come over some time?” Bender asked him and he flinched away. Andrew didn’t believe him though, and questioned it so John revealed to them all his very real cigar burn scar on his arm, claiming he got it from spilling paint in the garage. The group collectively flinched and no one moved for a few moments while Bender said, “I don’t need to sit with you fuckin’ dildos anymore,” and raged through the library.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” Claire admonished Andrew.

“How would I know? I mean he lies about everything anyway.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Y/N snapped at him and looked back towards Bender as though she wanted to follow him. Brian tried to will her silently not to; he didn’t really trust that Bender would control his emotions and she might get hurt. He felt relieved when she turned around, but then his heart began pounding once more as she gathered her lunch into the sack and stood up. ‘No, don’t do it, Y/N.’ He stared at her, but she didn’t seem to notice as she cautiously walked past and crept up the library stairs to where Bender was and sat next to him. Brian felt a little calmed when Bender didn’t lash out; he just rolled his eyes but stayed rooted to the spot. Meanwhile, the rest of the group at their lunch in silence.

*~~~~*

Brian felt guilty for leaving Bender behind, for allowing him to sacrifice himself for the group. Hell, they all did. Especially when Vernon started shoving him around and saying he was going to be in jail. Brian couldn’t help but wonder if he could become like John. It’s not like he was born into that life. But he had it tough at home, struggled at school, and had problems with authority (particularly when they lied). Brian could see some parallels. He, too, was unhappy at home. While his parents didn’t beat him like John’s did him, or berate him to the same degree, he couldn’t help but feel like a disappointment. And he felt like he was just slipping. Now he had broken school rules, brought a gun to school, watched as others destroyed school property, and was gaining a healthy distrust of authority by seeing how Vernon acted today. He’d even corrected him once, when counting Bender’s detentions, not that the truth seemed to matter to Vernon anyway. What if he continued down this path? What if things just kept getting worse at home? Would it really be that bad to be like Bender? Despite being a total jerkwad, he had the charisma to draw people in. He’d even had Y/N eat lunch with him! It just didn’t seem like the deal was all bad when he looked at it that way. ‘What’s next? Are you going to take up smoking?’ His brain scolded him, even though he had completely forgotten that he had drugs stashed in his pants right now...until Bender fell through the ceiling and asked for them back. He dug them uncomfortably out of his underwear and handed the bag over. Bender took off to smoke in the library and Brian realized he had a choice to make. Boy, was he tempted. ‘What’s one more rule broken today?’ He felt more emboldened when Claire stood up and followed John. Andrew tried to talk him out of it, shaking his head. Brian drummed his hands on the desk. He wasn’t sure he’d have another opportunity. Most of his friends and acquaintances didn’t do drugs...to his knowledge, anyway. He thought momentarily about his cousin Kendall, and how he started smoking pot and didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. ‘You already don’t feel like you belong anywhere,’ His mind reminded him, and with that, the decision was made; what did he have to lose? So he slunk off to join Bender and Claire.

It was...definitely a different experience. Brian didn’t care for the way his thoughts seemed so disjointed, that he couldn’t keep one train of thought going. For someone who was known for his intelligence and felt like his brain was his one good quality, it was a little scary to have that slip away. But, there was a sort of numbness that came with the drug that made him worry less about that. He felt less worried and anxious in general, actually. His focus was being pulled in too many directions to wonder what his parents would think or if he was saying the right thing, or if this could even be a mistake. He felt relaxed and oddly open. He was even making Bender and Claire laugh, which he hadn’t expected. It was like there was a new persona underneath that was unlocked. He didn’t know what he was doing, but it wasn’t the worst thing ever. He was, however, surprised by how long the effects lasted. It was a little more than an hour later and the whole group was sitting in a circle (Y/N and Allison never seemed to have joined them in the marijuana. Not that he had noticed, anyway) and Allison was telling the group that she was a nymphomaniac, which was exciting. Particularly to someone with zero experience, to hear someone claim she’d done ‘almost everything’ was utterly fascinating. However, his head was still swimming and he seemed to have a lack of filter between his brain and his mouth. He couldn’t catch his words fast enough, which was often a problem for him sober, but now it wasn’t just supplying corrections or information, the more cruel thoughts slipped through, too.

“Obviously she’s crazy if she’s screwing her shrink,” he added to the group without even thinking. Y/N was sitting to his right and promptly hit him on the arm with the back of her hand.

“Brian!” She hissed and gave him a glare. ‘Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?’ He thought, looking at her with wide-eyed fear. The realization sobered him up pretty quickly and he was much more in control of his thoughts and words after that. Despite the weed taking away most of his worries, he still cared how she perceived him. From then on, he was more focused on the conversations in front of him and how he added to them, but it was harder to control his emotions when Andrew began telling them about why he was here today.

“You guys know what I did to get in here today? I taped Larry Lester’s buns together.” Andy said, with a hint of a smile. ‘How can he just smirk like that? He has to know it was a shitty thing to do and that he hurt Larry.’ Brian thought. He knew Larry had been attacked this week by one of the sports, but he didn’t know who. Larry didn’t even know the kid’s name, had never talked to him, but still got jumped anyway. An experience that Brian was all too familiar with.

“That was you?” Brian asked, somewhat surprised, but started to get angry.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, I know him.” He said quietly, trying not to let the anger bubble past the surface.

He had to bite his tongue when Andy made Larry into a joke, “Then you know how hairy he is right?” Bender and Claire chuckled at his joke, at him bullying one of Brian’s friends. ‘I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything different,’ Brian thought dejectedly. But he was hoping that they were all better people than...this. The realization that they weren’t better than that, coupled with Andrew expressing his feelings about his father got Brian thinking. “I...hate him. He’s like this mindless machine that I can’t even relate to anymore.” Brian felt so disconnected from his parents, too, even though the rest of the group thought they lived in a fairytale. He was their pride and joy once, but it felt like ever since he started high school, he just wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t a good enough student, he didn’t do his chores right, he wasn’t setting himself up for college correctly, he wasn’t a good role model or brother to his sister...it all just added up and weighed on him immensely. He covered his face with one of his hands to hide his emotion and expression from the group. He didn’t even react when Andrew started screaming what his father had told him, but when everything settled down, he took the chance to speak.

“That’s like me, you know, with my grades. Like, when I step outside myself. A-and I look in on myself...and-and I see me, I don’t like what I see,” it was a difficult thing to admit but after what Allison and Andrew shared, he felt like maybe this could be the space to do so, too.

“What’s wrong with you? Why don’t you like yourself?” Claire asked. He knew it was meant to be nice, encouraging even, but it just made him feel worse. This beautiful, popular, and rich girl asking someone why they weren’t happy with themselves? Like she could have any sort of clue. No wonder it baffled her; she had everything. But he could also see Y/N nodding vigorously, agreeing with Claire. He didn’t want to put her on the same plane as Claire, he felt like she would be above that. But she clearly didn’t understand the way he felt, either. That just made him feel more alone.

“It’s stupid, but,” Brian said, “because I’m failing shop. We had this assignment to make this, uh, ceramic elephant. Anyways we were supposed to-it was, it was a lamp. When you pulled the trunk, the light was supposed to go on. But my light didn’t go on. I got an F on it. I’ve never got an F in my life. When I signed up, y’know, for the course, I thought I was playing it smart. I was, uh, ‘I’ll take Shop, it’s an easy way to maintain my grade point average.’”

“Why’d you think it would be easy?” Bender chimed in, not making eye contact. Brian had been lost in his own thoughts and his story and not looking at the group either, really. He had wanted to be honest, but he was also embarrassed. Honesty would have been hard to maintain if he was looking at them and seeing their judgments in real time.

“Have you seen some of the dopes that take Shop?” Brian asked, not realizing it would strike a nerve.

“I take Shop.” Bender responded, now turning his eyes to him, “You must be a fucking idiot.”

“I’m a fucking idiot because I can’t make a lamp?” Brian snapped defensively. He should have known it would be a mistake to put himself on the line like this, to open himself up to their judgement. He knew Bender was lashing out because he was insulted, but that didn’t make his jibes hurt any less.

“No, you’re a genius because you can’t make a lamp.” Bender shot back, sarcastically.

“What do you know about Trigonometry?” Brian fought back.

“I could care less about Trigonometry.”

“Bender, there’s no engineering without trigonometry.”

“Without lamps, there’d be no light.” Bender replied grumpily, grasping at straws for a fair comparison.

“Okay, so neither one of you is any better than the other one,” Claire jumped in. Before either of them responded, Allison added her own odd addition.

“I can write with my toes!” Both Bender and Brian looked at her incredulously, but she did calm the two of them down and add levity to the moment.

“I can make spaghetti!” Brian said cheerfully after a moment. Y/N smiled at him and his heart fluttered. He returned the smile and for a moment, forgot all about his blunder. Maybe that smile had given him the courage to participate again, to be open and vulnerable. Claire and Bender began fighting again, which wasn’t a surprise, but it opened a door for Brian to ask what had been weighing on his mind since their circle began. He felt like they had all bonded. They had told each other some of their deepest secrets and biggest pains, but did that really make them friends? “I know it’s kind of a weird time, but you know, I was just wondering...what’s going to happen to us on Monday? I mean, I consider you guys my friends,” he continued, looking around the circle, “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“No,” Andy reassured him. So, he wasn’t imagining it, they felt like friends, too.

“So on Monday, what happens?”

“Are we still friends, you mean? If we’re friends now?” Claire asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want the truth?” Claire couldn’t meet his eye, and Brian knew from the question she posed, he really didn’t want the truth. He knew what was coming, but he continued anyway.

“Yeah, I want the truth.”

“I don’t think so.” Claire responded and he somehow still wasn’t prepared for the blow. It still hit him hard, causing a squeezing pain in his chest and he looked away, clenching his jaw to hold the tears back that were welling in his eyes.

“With all of us,” Allison asked, “or just John?”

“With all of you,” Claire confirmed, looking away from the group.

“That’s a real nice attitude, Claire,” Andrew said gruffly.

“Oh, be honest, Andy,” Claire groaned, “If Brian came up to you in the hall on Monday, what would you do? Picture it, you’re with all the sports.” Brian glanced up at his name and looked at Andy hopefully. In his heart, he knew Claire was probably right, but he wanted to believe that Andrew was really his friend, that they all were. “You know exactly what you’d do. You’d say hi to him and then you’d laugh and cut him all up so your friends wouldn’t think you actually like him.”

“No way.” Andy denied, and that gave Brian a glimmer of hope, one he so desperately wanted to believe.

“What if I came up to you?” Allison asked.

“Same exact thing.”

“You are a bitch!” Bender yelled at Claire.

“Why?! Because I’m telling the truth? That makes me a bitch?”

“No. Cuz you know how shitty that is to do to someone and you don’t have the balls to stand up to your friends and tell them you’re gonna like who you wanna like…” Bender continued berating Claire, but Brian now started to fail to hold back the tears that had been threatening so long to fall. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone in the group and tried to quickly wipe the tear away, hoping no one was paying attention to him; that they couldn’t see how they had impacted him. But he still felt eyes on him, particularly when he wiped the next tear away. He let Claire and Bender’s argument surround him. They called each other out, that neither would associate with him or Allison, that their image was too important to protect to reach out. It was a story that Brian had lived all of his life. ‘How could I think that one day would change everything?’ He thought, pitifully.

“So I assume Allison, Y/N, and I are better people than you? Us weirdos?” Brian interjected when Claire and Bender were silently fuming from their spat. “You, would you do that to me?” He asked Allison.

“I don’t have any friends,” she replied, which made Brian smile a little, even though he rolled his eyes some.

“Okay, but if you did?” He let out a light chuckle, urging her to answer.

“No. I don’t think the kind of friends that I’d have would mind,” Allison replied and Brian nodded, then steeled himself to turn to Y/N and ask the same question. He saw her quickly swipe at her face with her sleeves and realized, suddenly, that she had been crying too. He wasn’t sure why; she had been very quiet through this whole exchange, but maybe that was because it hit home hard for her, too. He felt a painful pang in his chest, both from seeing her tears and from fearing the possibility of her answer. He had spent the day hoping that this was a second chance, that he could get to know her. This was a bold move and would tell him if there was even a chance or not; and he feared the ‘not.' She locked eyes with him and he gulped, petrified to dive in but knowing he had to.

“What about you, Y/N?” He asked, quietly. It felt like the question hung in the air for an agonizing eternity, even though she answered right away. Time worked differently when you were waiting to hear if your world was going to be shattered.

“I would be honored to be your friend,” she replied with a shaking voice. Even though it was strained, it filled him with instant relief. He believed her as he had believed Allison and nodded, biting his lip.

“I just want to tell, each of you, that I wouldn’t do that,” he turned to the group,” I wouldn’t and I will not. Because I think it’s real shitty.”

“Your friends wouldn’t mind because they look up to us.” Claire told him and he couldn’t help but laugh derisively in response. Next to him, he heard Y/N give a sort of squeak but figured that it carried the same disbelief towards Claire as his gesture did.

“You’re so conceited, Claire. You’re so conceited. You’re like, so full of yourself. Why are you like that?” Brian noticed the tears falling again and swiped them away. He didn’t want Claire to think she wounded him, that she had the upper hand. While it stung to have all of his beliefs about how the popular kids perceived him and his friends confirmed, that wasn’t what really was bothering him. It was more that it reminded him that he was invisible, he didn’t matter, which was exactly why he was here today.

“I’m not saying that to be conceited. I hate it. I hate having to go along with everything my friends say.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Claire sighed, and Brian noticed that she was drying her own tears. He didn’t necessarily like having caused them, but it was nice to know she was still human, that she was feeling the way he was, too. “You don’t understand, You’re not friends with the same kind of people Andy and I are friends with, you know? You just don’t understand the kind of pressure that they can put on you.” That, however, lit a fire within Brian. ‘Pressure from other assholes is so important? Try your own parents, Claire.’

“I don’t understand what?” Brian began, gesturing towards himself and planting his fingers into his chest. It relieved some of the dull ache there. “You think I don’t understand pressure, Claire? Well, fuck you! Fuck you!” ‘Also, fuck ‘bravery’ or saving face,’ Brian broke down into sobs in his elbow before calling out from his hiding spot, “do you know why I’m here today? Do you?!” He sat up to look at the group, the people he considered friends, to share his pain with them. “I’m here...because Mr. Ryan found a gun in my locker.” The words turned thick as they left his mouth and took on a life of their own. His eyes darted quickly around the circle, noting Claire’s dropped jaw, Allison’s tearful eyes that couldn’t meet his own, the way Andrew looked away and Bender seemed to know how he had felt, but also how he was surprised that Brian had the balls to do such a thing, and finally...tears silently and consistently slipping down Y/N’s face.

“What’s the gun for?” Andrew asked, interrupting Brian’s thoughts.

“I tried. You pull the fuckin’--trunk and the light’s supposed to go on and it didn’t go on, you know?” ‘You’ve said too much. They all thought you were a weirdo, now they think you’re a psychotic weirdo.’ “Forget it. Just--forget it,” he said in an attempt to brush it off, as if everything could go back to normal with the bombshell he just dropped on them.

“You brought it up, man,” Andrew insisted.

“I can’t have an F. I can’t have it and I know my parents can’t. Even if I aced the rest of the semester, it would only be a B. I’m ruined.”

“Brian…” Claire started, but there was nothing she could say to make this alright. ‘You’re a failure, Brian, and now you’ve become a freakshow. Look at her pity,’ his brain taunted him and he lashed out to hit the stool on his right, not even thinking about it until Y/N jumped up in her seated position, startled. The last thing he would want to do is hurt or scare her. ‘Shit, great. Another fuck up.’

“Sorry,” he mumbled in her direction before setting his head on his knee and continuing with his story from before, “Just considering my options, you know?”

“No, killing yourself is never an option!” Claire yelled at him, which made him scoff.

“Well I didn’t do it, did I? No, I didn’t think so.” ‘She really just doesn’t get it, does she? She still can’t picture why I’d want to--’

“It was a handgun?” Allison asked

“A flare gun. It blew up in my locker.” Brian sighed, but then he heard Andrew start to laugh. “It’s not funny.” Brian asserted. Andrew tried to clear his throat to stop laughing, but he couldn’t and Brian bit his lip and smiled in realization, “Yeah, it is.” The laughter was contagious...and better than crying. “Fucking elephant was destroyed.”

“You know what I did to get in here?” Allison asked the group, and Brian almost feared her answer. “Nothing. I didn’t have anything better to do.” That completely brightened the mood and Brian fell over laughing. It seemed like he was forgiven and that no one here was judging him for the failed lamp or the gun nor would they tell anybody about it. They...they had accepted him in the end after all.

*~~~~*

“...we trust you.” Claire was trying to talk him into writing one essay to cover all of them, and she was using flattery. Lucky for her, it worked. He looked down the row to seek approval from the others and they all nodded. But he liked knowing that they thought he was the smartest and the most capable, that they trusted his words would win over Vernon in a way that they wouldn’t be punished for not doing their own essays. It was a big task and a lot to entrust to him, so he took pride in fulfilling it. Claire took the other girls with her somewhere and it was just Andrew and him sitting silently in the library, so he decided to get to work. Andrew was just lurking about, playing with his jewelry, but he wasn’t a distraction. However, Allison passing by looking completely different was. Brian looked up, shocked that this was the same person he had spent all day with. Her hair was away from her face and he could actually see her brown eyes and she was wearing...white, the opposite of all of the layers of black before. He caught her glare at him staring at her so he tried to give her a reassuring smile, that it was a good look for her. She said, “thank you,” and moved on toward Andrew. Brian turned back to his essay and finished the last couple of lines, not noticing Y/N approaching behind him. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have kissed the essay or given himself a ‘good job’ punch in the arm.

He sat up in startled revelation when she spoke, “That good, huh?” He realized she had just seen everything. He had never felt more like a dork in his life and a blush crept up into his cheeks.

“Uh...yeah, I-I guess. I mean, do you want to read it?” He asked as she started to pull back the chair next to him to sit down.

“If you want me to, but I trust you.” She took her seat and placed her arm gently on his forearm. ‘Holy shit. She is touching me! She’s looking at me. What do I even say? Do I acknowledge the touch or do I just--’ “I’m impressed that you came up with something so quickly though.” Brian felt pride bubble up within him, knowing that she noticed...no, she was impressed by him. He cocked his head and looked at her sideways, trying to figure her out. She quickly looked away and pulled her hand back, now fiddling with her sleeves. ‘Is she...nervous?’ He thought, trying to decode her reaction. “So, um…you said earlier that you were in the Math Club? Um, I mean, if you have the time, do you think you could tutor me? I’m like totally lost in Clarkson’s class.”

He blinked. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t exactly that. Not that he would say no to spending more time with her. He had wanted that second chance, after all. “Yeah, no, I could do that,” he told her and watched as she twisted away and looked behind her, grabbing paper off of Allison’s desk. She leaned back forward and reached for his pen in front of him. She was actually close enough now that he could smell her shampoo and his body threatened to turn into jello on the spot.

“Here...is...my...phone number.” She said as she wrote it out on the paper and handed it to him. “Call me so we can set something up?” She looked up at him and knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

“You--You want me to call you?” He asked with raised eyebrows, wholly surprised by the request. He’d not only not kissed a girl, but one had never given him her phone number before.

“Yeah.” She smiled at him and his heartbeat picked up even faster, if that was possible. She cleared her throat and nodded towards Andrew and Allison. “So, those two, huh? Unexpected, right?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He was suddenly hurtled back to Earth, to reality. “Definitely. Wait, where’s Claire?”

“She...she said she was going to go ‘check on’ Bender.”

“Wow. So them, too.” ‘Everyone is coupling up maybe we should--’ he interrupted his own thought and shot it down. All he could say was, “That’s really...weird.”

*~~~~*

After they were finally released and Brian left his essay on the desk for Vernon to collect, and hopefully reflect upon, they all walked out together. It made sense as they all had to go to the main entrance, but there was a feeling of solidarity within it that made Brian think that the members of what he dubbed The Breakfast Club would continue their friendship come Monday.

Allison and Andrew branched off together, as did Claire and John. Brian looked quickly at Y/N as she walked down the steps with him. His dad was there to pick him up, which he was thankful for. His mom would definitely notice him walking with a girl and have a million questions and a lengthy lecture lined up, but his dad would barely notice, much less think anything of it. He reached for the door handle as Y/N was about to depart, but then she called his name, “Hey Brian,” he looked up, not sure what else she could possibly have to say, especially since they had been silent while the couples had veered off. “See you Monday.” She reminded him and gave him a small smile. He gave a grin in return.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Monday.” He replied, beginning to get into the car, her phone number burning a hole in his pocket. For the first time in a long time, he was actually looking forward to another week school.

Tags:

@criminalwipes

#the breakfast club #breakfast club #breakfast club movie redeux #midnight sun'd prologue #you're not the only one stephanie myer #brian johnson x reader #brian x reader #brian johnson #john bender #claire standish #allison reynolds #andrew clark #80s fanfic #reader-insert

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shreddedparchment · 4 years

Text

A World of Our Own Pt.06

Broken Hearts

09/20/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 6,012

Warnings: violence, blood, suggestive themes, language

A/N: I’ve been so excited for this chapter for so long. Probably just one or two more chapters after this. I hope you enjoy it! If you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Ryan’s chuckle is infectious, and you can’t help but laugh along with him as he leans over to stoke the flames of your campfire.

It’s warm. Cozy by the roaring ocean waves that bring with it a cool briny breeze.

“Don’t laugh at me. It was very traumatizing.” Ryan demands, putting the large stick he’s been using to poke the fire aside before leaning back against new palm logs that he and Bucky had chopped for seating.

Even though you’re meant to sit on them, all of you seem to prefer to sit on blankets you’d stitched together from clothing too worn to use anymore.

“I feel bad for the shark. It has probably never seen a naked man before in its life and you’re out here dangling your bits all over its face.” You tease, shaking your head as if you really disapprove of him.

“Wha-?!” Ryan gasps, mouth wide open as he struggles to find a comeback.

“I was mindin’-” he takes a lengthy pause. “-mah own business-”

He places his hand on his chest as he pauses again, the wheels in his brain working quickly to come up with his excuse.

“-when this very large an’ scary fish comes out of the depths an’ charges me. I was the one scrambling ta get back ta shore. I was the one who was given a heart attack. Not the bloody shark!”

“Well, why were you swimming so far out?” You ask him, chuckling again and feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment at the memory of watching him run out of the water screaming at the top of his lungs, “Shark! Shark! Shark!” completely naked.

You’re not ashamed to say that there was nothing there that wasn’t worth looking at, but it was only an afterthought that you now think of as opposed to noticing in the moment.

You’d turned around instantly and gasped, completely confused as to why he was running towards you naked until you’d heard what he was saying.

“Should I start the fish?” Ryan asks, reaching for the folded leaves beside him where you’d put the cleaned fish when the sun had still been out.

It’s very obvious that Ryan isn’t answering your question.

Both you and Bucky have been watching him closely over the past month, since he’d first shown up completely wet, wondering where it is that he goes when he swims.

It wouldn’t make you so suspicious if he weren’t randomly disappearing when he takes these swims. He waits until you and Bucky are busy, distracted, then wanders off without a word.

Bucky has made you swear not to follow him, afraid of what Ryan might be capable of if he is up to something and is suddenly caught.

Problem is Bucky also refuses to leave you alone anymore, so he doesn’t get to tail Ryan either.

Until Ryan chooses to answer your question, neither of you will ever know where he goes.

“Sure.” You nod, then reach to place the metal sheet that Bucky had made for cooking food without having to deal with embers and ash on the fish.

Ryan separates each fish into one leaf on its own then places them on the thin sheet so that they might bake.

The two of you work in silence for a bit, sitting across the fire from each other, you steal glances at him, and he returns each look. He smiles, his expression kind and so trustworthy that you think in moments like these that you and Bucky might be wrong about him.

“Ryan?” You begin, hesitant.

He smiles to encourage you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” He nods, smile vanishing as his face becomes a little more serious. Confused as to why you think you have to ask.

“Why don’t you talk about your son?” You wonder, now having said the words your mouth keeps going. “You drop this bomb and then never mention him again. I wasn’t sure whether you didn’t want to talk about him, so I never asked. If you’d prefer not to, I understand. There are things I’d rather not talk about to. Everyone is entitled to their secrets. I just—a kid is such a big part of who you are, right? Not the only part of you, obviously but he’s your son. You must think about him all the time.

“Who did you leave him with? He must miss you so much. I’m so sorry that you’re stuck here, with us, instead of home with your boy.” You sigh, and your breath shudders.

You smile at him awkwardly, realizing you’ve rambled on nervously.

“Sorry.” You offer, “I kinda just go off when I’m nervous.”

Ryan’s face is the picture of relaxation, however. He’s not smiling, but he doesn’t look upset that you’ve asked.

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and you’re certain that he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want to talk about it, but then… “To be perfectly honest, I wasn’t really sure that you or Bucky cared to know about Conor.”

“His name is Conor?” You gasp, smiling already like an idiot as you start to imagine a mini version of Ryan. Sandy blonde hair, lovely eyes, light skin.

“Aye, wee tyke is only five but when he talks to you, he sounds much older.” Finally, he smiles, the admiration of a father pouring out of him as he thinks about his little boy.

“Does he look like you or his mother?” You wonder, eager for details now that he’s talking.

“He looks like his mother. Almost my exact opposite. Dark hair and skin. Perhaps a bit lighter than his mother but he’s her spittin’ image. Dark eyes too. Just as beautiful.” Ryan says, a bit more forlorn than before.

Your own smile falters, wondering if maybe he and Conor’s mother are no longer together? Jeez, you really hope that he isn’t still married and flirting with you the way he has been. Not that you blame him being stuck on an island with no other women, but still.

Ryan seems like the type of man to devote himself completely.

“Is she-?” You offer, just to see if he’d like to open up.

He meets your gaze, holding it for a long moment before he tilts his head a little as he makes his choice quickly.

“Grace died. Just after giving birth to Conor. Conor almost went with her, but he pulled through and we have made a go of it, I think.” He gives you another smile. “I think he’s happy. Or was, before all this.”

“I’m so sorry, Ryan. I’m sure Conor loves and appreciates you very much.” His story is tragic, and your heart truly breaks for him.

“Thank you. Gettin’ back to him is the only thing that matters now.” He nods, looking more at ease. “It feels good to talk about them if I’m honest. I havin’ really spoken about it ta anyone other than mah parents. That’s who Conor is with, by the way. You were wonderin’ earlier.”

“You can always talk to me. About anything.” You assure him.

His smile grows wider and any sorrow left in his eyes vanishes as he looks down at the cooking fish before giving his head a minute shake.

“What?” You ask, your own voice shaking with the hint of laughter at the amused expression on his face.

“I was just thinkin’ about how unfortunate it is that you’re taken now. You would have made him a proper step-mom maybe.” His bold words stun you.

At a loss for what to say, you can only seem to focus on the way your neck begins to burn.

Ryan clearly enjoys watching you squirm for the two second that he has to do so before Bucky’s voice breaks the tension.

“Keep that up and you’ll lose your room.” Bucky warns, a playful note in his voice but really you can hear how serious he is.

“I just got it.” Ryan protests, looking towards the hut down the beach.

Bucky worked so hard on the build, elevated and sturdy with each brick placed with care and somewhat expert precision. The gambrel roof, which Bucky chose so that you could use the extra space to hang clothes and food away from where animals might find them, is tall and thatched with the fronds you’d worked so hard to tear and resew to keep the hut safe from the elements.

The hut is split in two down the center with two entrances. When you face the hut, the left side of it is taken by Ryan, a flight of bamboo stairs leading up to the curtained entrance. The right side belongs to you and Bucky.

“Stop flirting with my girl then, and I’ll let you keep it.” Bucky threatens, this time it’s clear he means it.

Ryan holds up his hands in defeat as you turn to devour you freshly bathed Bucky. In jeans and a t-shirt, he looks almost as if he’s ready to begin his day but instead of being productive he drops his dirty clothes into the handmade basket you’d woven with the extra strips of palm fronds then moves towards you. He takes hold of your face, tilting it back so that you might look up at him.

He leans down to look at you, smiling pleasantly.

“Hi.” He tells you, voice deep and penetrating.

“Hi.” You reply. “You smell good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He leans down and kisses you, lips so sweet and fresh you could really just do this all night. He holds it for a few moments before he begins pushing you to scoot forward.

You move as he wants you to, looking back at him as he sits himself behind you, legs spread wide before he pulls you back to sit between his legs which he props up on either side of you. His arms wrap around your stomach and while your happiness quadruples with this unyielding affection he seems to shower on you lately, you can’t help but notice the way Ryan looks away, a small twinge of bitterness in his expression.

It’s just the island. You tell yourself, certain that if you all weren’t stuck here, you wouldn’t be so lucky as to hold the attention of two very beautiful men.

Although you’re certain, you can’t help but wonder if Ryan really does like you. Is it possible?

~~~~~~~~~~

Time doesn’t stop. Not for you stuck on this island. Not for Bucky, torn from the promise of a new life. Not for Ryan who misses his son and is losing more and more time with him. With time is taken all hope that you’ll ever be rescued but the three of you refuse to speak the words aloud.

In silence, there is the illusion of hope and you cannot afford to let it go.

Days roll into weeks and the three of you try to keep your spirits up. It’s easier for you and Bucky, you assume. Finally, being with him has changed very little and so much all at once.

The biggest change is your sleeping arrangements. The hut has been built for a while now. Two months it feels like, going on three. Six months going on seven since you three have been trapped here.

With the hut came privacy, the adobe wall that splits it in two gives you and Bucky the luxury of cuddling as you used to in the fuselage without the worries of being accidentally disturbed.

Because of this, in the morning Bucky’s warm kisses trail along your cheeks, your neck, onto your collarbone raising tingles in all the right places before he finds his way up to your lips.

His arms wrap themselves around you as hey lays himself over you and you raise your leg to hold him close.

“Good morning.” He whispers and your eyes open, devouring the beautiful image of him. Clean and dry. Not a drop of sweat on his perfect skin whereas your own is dewy and you’re in need of a morning swim.

“Good morning.” You whisper, your body burning for him.

It doesn’t help that you can feel him pressed against your thighs, stiff and awake with the morning.

With your lips suddenly dry, you run your tongue along them, wetting them as your breath hitches when he rolls his hips from side to side as he adjusts himself over you.

You know that he doesn’t mean it to make your blood boil, but it does and you snake your hands down to his waist before your fingers worm their way underneath his t-shirt and gently tickle his smooth skin.

“What are you doing?” He asks you, a smile in his voice as he raises an eyebrow but hold you closer.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, licking your lips again.

He huffs a laugh, cool air raising goosebumps along your neck.

“I think you know.” He counters, amused by your attempt to seduce him.

“Then why ask?” You reach down, sliding your hand down underneath the waistband of his underwear, breath catching in your throat at the swell of his bum.

“Y/N,” He pleads, a small hint of a chastising tone to his words. “We can’t.”

“But I want to.” You whimper, tired of begging. It’s been so long since the two of you have been together. For what feels like forever now.

“So, do I, kitten. Trust me.” He wiggles his hips, probably just trying to get comfortable but he inadvertently eggs you on, proves his point by pressing his erection against you—accidentally of course.

“Then…” You try it even though you know he’ll say no. Even though this argument has failed so many times. “…I can just-I’ll give you something and you don’t have to give me anything back.”

“I could never do that.” He argues, his face contorting a bit more. The hints of anger rising.

“Then we can just stop there, Bucky. We’ve got control, don’t we? I wanna suck your co-”

“Jesus, Y/N.” Bucky rolls off of you, sitting at the edge of the low bed with his elbows on his knees as he looks across the hut to the opposite wall, his breathing a little heavy.

You sit up, blinking away the tears of rejection because you know he doesn’t mean it in that way. You know what his worry is because it’s you’re worry too.

“I’m sorry.” You move up behind him, hugging him around his chest and resting your cheek against his solid back.

The rapid rate of his heart tells you how much he wants you even if he can’t see to let himself show it. You take solace in that as you splay your hands on his chest, breathing in the scent of the coconut oil you’d infused into the handmade soap you’d worked on several weeks ago.

“I…you know that we can’t.” He frets, still upset.

“I do.” You shake your head. “I’m just-”

He hears the sob trapped in your throat and he turns so quickly you nearly fall over but he’s there, holding you tight against his chest, hands caressing the back of your head as the other wraps around your shoulders.

“I want you, kitten. Believe me. I do. If I could be sure that we wouldn’t mess up…You were the one that set this boundary.” He reminds you, pulling back to look at you as shame overcomes you.

He’s right of course. You’d told him that you didn’t want to sleep with him until the two of you could be sure that you wouldn’t get pregnant. Not here. Not on this island. There was too much that could go wrong. Too much danger for a baby, not to mention birthing one here with no doctors in case something went wrong.

No, you couldn’t do it and so you’d both agreed.

But…

“I didn’t think we’d still be here.” You huff, burying your face into his chest to hide your embarrassment.

Bucky breathes a little more lightly, almost laughing again at the shift. This conversation has gone from up to down and right back up.

“I know, babe.” He whispers, resting his chin on your head as he strokes your back with both hands. “To be honest, my patience is also wearing thin.”

You pull back quickly, searching to get a look at his eyes to see if he might be lying. He isn’t and it does make you feel better that you aren’t the only one struggling with this abstinence.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to wait.” He confesses.

“Me neither.” You sigh. “But you already knew that.”

His face breaks into a smile and you’re calm again, happy to see that beautiful expression on his handsome face. Silver blue eyes all crinkled at the corners.

You reach up to touch his hair, giving it a decent appraisal. “You need another cut.”

“I think we should go shorter this time.” He nods.

“Like a little higher than your chin?” You touch the spot, but Bucky shakes his head.

“No, I mean, short.”

You gasp. “Bucky, I don’t think I trust myself to do that.”

“I trust you.” He counters but you shake your head.

Nope. You’re not going to risk butchering his lovely locks.

“I won’t do it, Barnes.” You frown.

“Stubborn ass.” He glowers.

“Fuck you.” You retort.

“Not yet.” He teases.

“I hate you!” You spit at him, because you can already see the laugh coming at that unfair statement and you shove away from him, moving towards the clothes you’ve got packed in one of the salvaged suitcases to pull out your favorite pair of jean shorts and a plain red t-shirt.

He’s laughing as you dress and doesn’t stop when you’re gone.

Making your way down to the campfire, you search for Ryan, half expecting to find him cooking fish for breakfast but he’s nowhere to be found.

As Bucky joins you, dressed in the same t-shirt with his own favorite pair of jeans on, you place your hands on your hips and look towards the stretch of water where the cockpit had once been visible.

It seems to have sunk to the floor now that the tide has risen and fallen so many times, taking the plane with it.

“What’s the matter?” Bucky wonders, lifting his foot onto the trough he’s been mixing more clay in again, working on something secret that he refuses to let you in on just yet.

“I’ll tell you when it’s relevant. Right now, it’s just a precaution. Trust me, okay? If I need to bring it up, I will.” Then he’d gone back to lining the outside of the hut with metal sheets from the plane before sealing them over with clay.

He laces up his boot but watches you as he works.

“He’s gone again.” You shake your head.

“He hasn’t tried anything.” Bucky ponders. “If he was going to hurt us, he would have done it by now.”

“I know, it’s just…” You bite your lip.

“He is hiding something.” Bucky agrees, this conversation having played out so many times. “But I think he also wants some distance from us. We’re probably annoying to be around.”

“We’re not that bad anymore.” You argue.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky whispers, his lips suddenly at your ear.

He kisses it, slipping your lobe into his mouth as your eyes shut to the pleasure the gesture raises.

“You’re not making this any easier.” You sigh but turn to look at him and without hesitation pull him down to meet your lips with his own.

The kiss is a frenzy, heated and eager as your hands grope and cling as Bucky’s also press and pull against the flesh of your hips and ass leaving burning bruises behind.

Out here where you might get caught is the safest place to be this affectionate. Where you can’t take this any further than this passionate kiss.

“Do ya really have ta do that so early in the mornin’?” Ryan’s voice cuts in, interrupting just as you both intend.

Bucky pulls away first, letting the smack of your kiss echo before giving you one devilish grin then marching back to the trough.

“Sorry.” You turn to Ryan, hoping your expression is rightly chastised. “Fish?”

Ryan holds it up to indicate his catch then moves towards you to hand it over for cleaning.

You settle down beside him on your usual stump, pulling out your makeshift knives and gut the fish with the precision of someone who’s done this everyday for half a year. Ryan gets to building a new fire, gathering as much of the ash for you as he can for when you decide to make more soap.

While you work, you watch him, stealing glances at the subtle downturn to the corners of his lips.

The longer he works the more he seems to wallow.

Once the fish is settled over the fire, you turn in your spot to focus your attention on him.

“What?”

Slightly startled, he turns to you with wide eyes, all traces of the depression he’s been in gone.

“What?” He sounds confused.

“What’s the matter with you?” You clarify.

“Oh.” He sighs and shakes his head.

You know you can guess. “Conor?”

“Aye, Conor.” The sadness returns to his face and your heart gives a painful lurch for him.

He must miss his son so much.

“He’s probably startin’ school this month.” He laments, stoking the fire.

“It’s his first year?”

“Aye, I hope he isn’t scared.” Ryan hopes.

“I’m sure he’s just as brave as his dad.” You offer in comfort, giving Ryan as kind a smile as you can muster.

“We’ll get off this island, Ryan. Someone will come. Even if it’s by accident. Even if it’s years from now. You’ll be with Conor again.” You hope, because even though you want it to be a promise, you don’t know.

Ryan’s face contorts, agony ripping through him for one quick second before he meets your gaze and reaches out to take hold of your hand.

“I think…” Bucky begins from the trough, Ryan’s hand freezing mere inches from your own.

He takes it back and clears his throat, the look of pain vanishing from his handsome face before he looks to Bucky just as you do.

Bucky’s gaze is focused on the horizon, the ocean waves unnaturally gentle. It’s a beautiful day.

“What is it babe?” You call, trying to pull Bucky out of his thoughts.

He turns his furrowed brow back to the two of you, “I think we might have to move to the cave. Soon.”

“The cave?” You rise, glancing at the fish to make sure they’re not burning. “The one Ryan was in when he landed?”

Ryan sits back, a perplexed gaze fixed on Bucky.

“Yeah. Do you think you can show me where it is?”

“Why would ya need to go there?” Ryan reaches out to stoke the fire once again, pulling his gaze away from you both.

“Bucky?” You worry, moving towards him as he straightens up and wipes his hands clean to take your hand as you reach him.

“We won’t need to go there yet.” He assures you, wrapping his metal arm around your waist to pull you into his side. “It’s just a precaution.”

“A precaution against what?”

“It’s hurricane season. The hut is…I’m not exactly an architect. I’ve done what I can with what we have but that hut is not meant to withstand a hurricane. When it comes down to it, we might be able to take shelter in the fuselage if we have to but with the three of us, the cave might be a better option. How did you hold up in the caves during that first storm?” Bucky gestures to Ryan.

Ryan spares you both a glance before nodding. “There was minor flooding at the back jus’ before the exit by the jungle but otherwise it was dry and safe. It’s not a bad plan.”

“Then you’ll show me where it is?” Bucky insists.

“It’s not hard ta find, but sure. Tomorrow morning?” Ryan turns to him.

Bucky nods leaning down to press a kiss to your head.

The memory of that initial hurricane just after you’d crash landed here fills you with worry. What if you do have to go through another one and this one is worse? How likely is it that you’d die from a storm before you get rescued?

“Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll keep you safe.” Bucky whispers, reaching up to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand where there is no clay.

“I wish you didn’t have to shoulder so much.”

“Taking care of you is never too much.” Bucky smiles. “I kinda look forward to it actually.”

“Why?” You wonder, absolutely confused.

“Because I do. Don’t question it. Just accept it. You’re never getting rid of me.” He teases.

“Even when we’re rescued?” You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Especially when we’re rescued.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you once, then starts to lean down towards you for a kiss.

“I’m going for a swim.” Ryan announces, breaking the little bubble you and Bucky are in.

Without ceremony, Ryan moves straight for water headed towards the crash site without even feigning a different direction.

This draws both yours and Bucky’s attention as both of you are well aware that Ryan has still been swimming out to the cabin, but he’s taken such great care to go at it in roundabout ways. While strange, you guess that he must be more upset about Conor than even you could tell.

Your mind replays the agonized look he’d given you before when you’d promised him that rescue would be coming. Maybe he could tell that it was only your hope?

“He misses Conor. He should be starting school soon.” You explain.

“Mm.” Bucky nods, accepting your explanation.

“If there were any photos, he would have found them already, wouldn’t he?” You wonder, curious to no end about your new friend.

Sure, you have suspicions, but after so much time spent with him, you’ve both accepted him as a part of your life here. Ryan has your trust. And though you know it was given reluctantly, Bucky’s too.

“Maybe he just can’t bear to give up. I know I wouldn’t.” Bucky looks down at you, giving you a squeeze.

“If you had a son?” You ask.

“I’m not opposed to the idea.” Bucky stuns you, pulling you to look at him with his words to see how serious he might be about it. “With you. When the time is right.”

Your heart is pounding. Your mind is reeling. Bucky wants to have kids with you?

“You promise?” You gasp, so shocked your voice is mostly air.

“I love you.”

You smile, loving the words that spill from his lips.

“You do?”

Bucky smiles then chuckles, reaching up to squeeze the back of your neck, and you know that he’s telling you the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You smell good.” Bucky sighs, holding the blanket open for you as you take off your shoes and slip into the bed and nestle into Bucky’s arms. “Good bath?”

You can hear the exhaustion in his voice. He’s been working so hard to fortify the hut for smaller storms that might hit.

“Yes.” You hug him, cuddling in against his side as he drapes the blanket over you.

“You’re wearing your shorts?” He checks, and he’s right.

You’ve chosen to sleep in your second set of shorts, dark gray cloth instead of jeans and your tattered blue floral dress.

Because you don’t answer, Bucky adjusts to look down at you, forcing himself awake.

“Kitten?”

“I’m just…I want to be ready if we need to go short notice.” You confess, shutting your eyes and refusing to look at him. You don’t want him to see the fear.

“Ready for what?”

“Anything. Hurricanes.” You admit and wish you could throw away this fear.

You’re almost expecting Bucky to chastise you for your worrying but instead he settles into the plane cushion bed again and cuddles you closer.

“That’s smart.” He approves. “But we won’t have anywhere to run until tomorrow morning. Ryan has to show us the cave first.”

“Can I come?” You’re already drifting off, voice weak and slurring.

Bucky’s is the same, both of you exhausted from the day’s work.

“You kidding? I’m not letting you outta my sight.” He mumbles, his breathing getting heavier.

You almost smile but sleep takes you and your mind is overcome with dreams of thunderous clouds.

~~~~~~~~~~

For a moment Bucky isn’t sure what he’s hearing. He can feel you stirring to the sound in his arms and he tries to hold you tighter.

You were so scared before, the look of terror in your eyes at the prospect of being caught in a storm worse than the one you weathered before.

He wants to make sure you feel safe and secure with him. He’ll protect you from weather and predator, whether that’s animal or stupid fucking Ryan.

You tug away from him hard though and the sound…a humming…no, a loud thumping. It’s hard to place as he tries to both understand the sound and also figure out why you’re no longer lying beside him.

“Y/N?” He searches, sleepily pushing himself onto one elbow as he hears you bolt for the door.

Suddenly he’s wide awake and he can hear you rounding the hut to the other set of stairs on the other side.

He pulls his boots on quickly, sliding his feet in and lacing them with nimble fingers loosely.

“He’s gone!” You cry out, the pure panic in your voice as the sound overhead suddenly makes sense to Bucky.

A helicopter! It thuds loudly, motor whirring and buzzing and blowing sand everywhere while whipping trees back and forth.

Bucky springs form the hut and sees you already racing towards the trees where you can see the chopper headed.

He passes you quickly, easily. But he doesn’t stop because he knows that you would never forgive him.

Bucky runs faster than he’s ever run in his life, barreling through dense jungle but never once missing a step.

The branches of certain trees scrape at his skin and slap his face, but he doesn’t relent in his pursuit.

It takes minutes for him to reach a small field of tall grass. It’s sways violently in the chopper’s wind and at the center of this field is Ryan.

Bucky stops, taking in the sight as a blinding spotlight shines on Ryan first then quickly swings towards him.

Ryan follows the beam and when he sees Bucky take a step towards him, he reaches down to his hip where a holster suddenly sits. He pulls a gun, a 9mm Beretta from what Bucky can tell, and stops his advance.

“Stop!” Ryan orders, his voice tight and commanding.

As the chopper descends a little more to hover at fifty feet, a steel wire ladder falls down towards Ryan as Bucky begins to notice the metal case in his other arm.

“What’s in there?” Bucky asks, staying as still as he can until he might have a chance to pounce.

“The other black box.” Ryan says simply, his voice softer but defiant. “Parts of it.”

Bucky’s glare is piercing and if Ryan didn’t have that gun, he would probably have already fled.

“I had to…” Ryan begins, still combative in tone but Bucky realizes that the anger in it is not directed at him. “They have me by the balls, mate. When Grace died, Conor would have followed, but they found me, and they offered to save his life. That is a debt I can never repay.”

Bucky’s fists tighten, anger bubbling up to choke him so that he cannot speak. These schemes, it has to be Hydra. No one else would want him dead.

“Who’s they?” He forces himself to ask, just to make sure.

It could be the U.S. Government too if he’s being completely honest. They could very well want him out of the way.

“I don’t know. People.” Ryan throws out, and Bucky believes that he doesn’t know. “All I know is they wanted you out of the way. If I had known that she…I didn’t know that she would be there. I didn’t know that they would die.”

Ryan’s voice grows thick and he shakes his head, ridding himself of whatever thoughts his guilt have conjured up.

“If I don’t finish the job, they’ll kill mah boy.” He holds the gun steadier, catching his breath before he makes his face as stoic as possible. “This is all I can give her. I can’t save her, but I can at least do this much. I can give her you. They’ll think you’re dead. I’ll make sure.”

Bucky sees it now. The real emotions behind his eyes. Ryan does love you. He’s certain of it now. He also understands what he’s saying and leans forward, angling himself so that when Ryan shoots, the bullet will hit his shoulder. Too high to be his chest and endanger his lungs or heart.

“Tell her I’m sorry.” Ryan pleads, and squeezes the trigger.

Bucky’s mind races with possibilities. Ryan might miss. He could hit him where he will not recover and then you’d be left here alone on this island. You’d hate him for not fighting and hate Ryan for killing him. He could bleed out and Bucky can’t imagine you here without him.

The bullet pierces him just where he’d hoped and falls to the ground with a heavy thud and goes as still as he can possibly can.

He holds his breath, pushing through the pain that burns from his right shoulder, and hoping that the chopper will leave quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~

Gasping with a stitch in your side and your legs made of jelly, you break through the trees onto a field you’ve passed a few times here on the island but avoided in case of snakes.

The sight before freezes you. Ryan shoots. Bucky falls.

Ryan turns to a wire ladder and begins to climb, and you race to Bucky, sobs already shaking your body.

“Bucky, no!” You gasp. “Please. Please, don’t be dead.”

As you reach him, you turn him over, and see that his eyes are wide open, reading your heartbroken expression as he remains unmoving while you press your hands against his wound.

You continue to sob, turning your eyes to the chopper overhead as it pulls away and takes with it all hope of your rescue.

As it fades into the distance, Bucky pulls himself up a bit, sitting up and pressing his much larger hand against the bullet hole on the front while you fuss with the exit wound in the back.

“W-We need to s-stitch you up.” You cry, voice low and controlled despite the sobs still ripping through your throat.

Without hesitation you reach down and tear away at your dress reducing its length even further, now just barely reaching your hips. You wrap it around the wound as best you can, slapping Bucky’s hand away to shove more fabric over it and then place his hand back over the spot.

“I’m alright, kitten.” Bucky tells you, voice strong and certain.

“Like fuck-all you are.” You sob, fisting the front of his shirt as you refuse to look back to where you can still hear the chopper’s sounds, fading. “H-He shot you.”

Bucky strokes the side of your face with his metal hand, directing your gaze up so that you can look at him.

As you meet his steel and ice eyes, full of warmth and reassurance, you fall to pieces as you realize that Ryan has betrayed you. All your suspicions, as unlikely as you’d thought them, were true.

Bucky metal arm pulls you closer, his lips pressed to your crown as you sob against his chest, knowing now that you will never leave this place. You and Bucky will live and die on this island and no one will ever know you were here.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #castaway au #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader fic #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #a world of our own #awooo #a world of our own pt06 #desert island au #stranded au #bucky x reader romance

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padsmoonymine · 3 years

Text

Flashbacks

Percabeth • Fluff 😌

Free days at Camp Half-Blood were the best kind of days for everyone, especially for Annabeth. It was finally a day where she didn’t have to read in the loud, distracting sounds of people doing all the camp activities.

Today was a snow day. Camp was filled with white dollops of snow and flakes rapidly falling from the sky. Thinking that no one was planning to go outside today, Annabeth decided that it was the perfect day to pull out her book and finally read in some peace and quiet.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, because everyone was playing outside in the snow.

Yells of people throwing snowballs at each other, building snowmen, just enjoying life in the snow cut her out of her reading. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t focus on the pages.

She would’ve gone outside with them, but the truth was, Annabeth hated the snow. Her stepmother had reprimanded her every single time she tried to play in it, thinking it would be fun, but after one too many times of being rebellious, Helen dumped a whole bucket of snow down Annabeth’s back.

Now every time she thought of snow, she gagged inside.

Finally, she gave up, putting her book down on her nightstand and putting on her coat, hat, and scarf. Annabeth got cold really easily. Then she headed outside, trying to find Percy, her best friend. For the two years they had known each other, they were really close. No matter how much she acted sarcastic or called him her Seaweed Brain, she really cared about him. Maybe a little too much, but that didn’t matter right now.

She opened the door of the Athena Cabin and shut it tightly behind her. Hugging her jacket tightly, she looked around, trying to find Percy. She said hello and waved to a couple people who said it back, and then finally spotted Percy, close to the shore. He was making a snowman with three little boys from the Demeter Cabin.

For a second, Annabeth couldn’t help staring at Percy. She’d always thought of him as slightly immature, but talking to those little kids, acting like an older brother, she saw another side of him. He suddenly seemed so much more mature, so grown up.

Yeah, she definitely had more than friend feelings for him.

Suddenly, his eyes met hers. He waved, and Annabeth was filled with a warm feeling. “Annabeth! Hi!”

She trudged over to him, bringing her arms around him. His arms automatically went around hers, and she felt so warm, so at home -- and for a second, it was like she had never gone into the snow.

But all too soon, the embrace was over, and Percy looked at her, concerned. “Wise Girl, you good?” She never hugged him like that.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just really cold.” I want to go inside.

“Okay.” Percy frowned, but didn’t push it. “Hey, by any chance, do you have any carrots?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really, Seaweed Brain? Yes, yes of course, I definitely have a carrot, right here in my jacket. Let me get it out.”

His face turned slightly red, and Annabeth had to suppress a grin. “Okay, yeah. I see why that might’ve been a weird question. But Ronnie and Ryan really need a carrot for their snowman.”

“So I have one?” She couldn’t help the grin from forming on her face at this point.

“Hey, don’t judge. Not everyone is as smart as you. Plus you always have everything with you. Remember when I asked you for a bath bomb and you pulled one out of your backpack?”

“Okay, okay, touche. Good point.” She chuckled a little bit, feeling a little better from when she first walked out.

“SNOWBALL FIGHT!” Someone yelled, and a snowball hit Annabeth in the upper back. She jumped, feeling the wetness soak through her layers. She couldn’t move, a memory flashing through her eyes. Helen with the snow, dumping it down her back, the same feeling she felt then.

She couldn’t say a word, couldn’t move. All she saw was Helen, and all she felt was the fear, the loneliness, the six-year-old girl not understanding why this had happened.

But Percy. He locked eyes with her, and through them passed all the emotion and words that Annabeth couldn’t express. Then, he looked away, taking her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. “That was not cool!” He yelled at the person who threw the snowball.

“Hey guys, why don’t you find Chiron and ask him for the carrot? I’ll be right back, yeah?” They nodded and Percy led Annabeth away from everyone else, away from the cold the snow brought. They went into the Poseidon cabin, the warm air immediately hitting her and making her feel slightly better.

Percy closed the door behind them, and helped her onto his bed. “Annabeth? What’s going on?”

She still saw Helen, but focused on Percy. The boy right in front of her, the boy she had gone through thick and thin with and will continue doing everything with. Soon, he was all she saw, and the words, the nasty words and the face fell away.

She started to speak. Quickly, she told Percy the entire story. She wasn’t one to open up and share her feelings easily, but with Percy, it was like she was an open book. She finished telling him everything, and he pulled her into a hug again. She smelled the scent that was just so Percy -- indescribable but just the comfort she needed.

Annabeth was so lucky to have him. Maybe one day, she’d tell him how she really felt.

One day.

#percabeth #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #pjoverse #pjo text post #pjo fanfic #percy pjo #riordanverse #percy and annabeth #annabeth jackson #cuteness #besties #in love #camp half blood

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mettywiththenotes · 3 years

Text

Amelia and The Twin Tapes

Hello hi again, this has been on my brain for a WHILE and seen as its June 27th aka finish-infinity-train day, I thought I might as well post this and see what people think

I remember once seeing somebody ask the question why specifically it was Ryan and Min-gi that were brought onto the train together. There are thousands upon thousands of people with damaged relationships [whether romantic, between siblings, friends, and the list goes on] that could probably end up on the train together, with a single tape, who need their relationship fixing again.

So why were Ryan and Min-Gi the first pair to ever have a twin tape? What was it about Ryan and Min-Gi that made the train break protocol?

Well, I have this theory.

It’s never truly been confirmed whether the train does things on purpose or not, like land certain passengers in certain cars to further their development, though I do believe in it. The whole train is basically a robot, with One-One at the centre of it all, so I think there’s a very low chance that everything the train does is by coincidence, though I also believe there’s an element of the train giving “nudges” in the right direction. Like, the train could land a passenger in a certain car to get them to start their journey, but from then on it’s the responsibility of the passenger to make themselves better and learn from their mistakes. The train gives a nudge and the passenger begins to walk in their own direction, so to speak.

It’s a case of nudging them in a direction that would either make them better if handled right, or make them worse if handled wrong,

So, the train does this. We know this.

So... what if Ryan and Min-gi were brought onto the train together for Amelia?

What if the train’s intention was for Amelia to see Ryan and Min-Gi and realize that they were just like her and Alrick?

Amelia would have AT LEAST watched their tape [which I think she did cause she was there in the first ep of Book 4, she was there in the tape car when they boarded] and HAD to have seen similarities, right?

Childhood friends? One is creative and expressive while the other is smart and expected to succeed? Short hair and long hair? Bringing out the best in each other? Devotion, and the general element of wanting to spend their lives together? Yeah

Of course, Amelia was more hellbent on learning more about One and the train to pay attention to their “destiny rubbish”

And, if Ryan and Min were sent there to help Amelia, that means the train failed at the lesson it was supposed to teach.

Every main character from each book has exceeded expectations:

Tulip was a passenger that managed to confront Amelia herself, an inventor who basically created worlds in cars, kept attacking her and threatening the lifes of her and her friends. She got to the conductor’s room, and put One-One, the real conductor, back in his rightful place.

Lake, A DENIZEN, rampaged the tape car and got off the train, at the same time proving that she was a person. Jesse came back onto the train mere hours after getting off it.

Grace and Simon created a goddamn cult which was never the intention of the train, it’s likely One-One [or whoever the creator of the train is] never took into account that passengers would create a cult, but Grace and Simon did that

Amelia, a passenger, TOOK OVER as conductor and created cars AND LIFE [Hazel]

So it stands to reason that maybe Ryan and Min-Gi exceeded some expectation that was placed onto them by the train

I assume that maybe the lesson the train wanted to teach was closure. That despite the love you have for another, if you continue to self-destruct then you’ll be alone forever. That grieving is fine, but there is always a way through it, to get help and support.

And we’ve seen elements of self-destruction in Ryan and Min.

Ryan bottles up and represses his feelings so much that he just shuts down and isolates himself. Doesn’t eat, doesn’t drink.

Min, as we’ve seen, can have outbursts and get super angry. This seems to be caused by bottling up his own feelings, failing to communicate until he reaches his boiling point and either gets angry or isolates himself from the people he loves [namely Ryan]

In these respects, they represent self-destruction. Ryan seems to be inward destruction, a hatred to himself, while Min is outward destruction, something that bursts out towards the people around him. But both sides can blend together too, because we’ve seen in Book 4 how they are in denial, fail to communicate, and push each other away with the wrong decisions.

Amelia has both of these. She inwardly destroys herself with denial and lack of a desire to accept change, making closure harder for her to accept, which is shown at the end of Book 1 when she admits she did this all for her dead fiance, and she outwardly destroys the friendships around her with lack of communication, which is shown at the funeral scene where she isolates herself away from her friends but in doing so destroys her connection with them.

The expectation may have been for Amelia to watch their tape, draw connections between herself and Alrick and these two, and see that there was no point in fighting change. That she would have to accept it at some point. And with this, I think the original expectation for Ryan and Min-Gi was for them to pass Amelia in the tape car, then the train would put the boys together, send them off, and by the end of the journey, the two would gain closure, accept their past connection, and get off the train seperately.

That’s what it seemed like, right? Ryan wanted to be a rock star and Min wanted [thought he wanted] to go to university. In another world, they WOULD have gotten off the train separately. That’s why the number dials on their palms were seperate, where they started off with the same number but the dials could change so one could get off without the other, it was so they could seperate.

You know, get closure.

This would show Amelia that that was what she needed to do.

But, the train didn’t count on the fact that maybe Min-Gi wasn’t being totally honest with himself. That he secretly wanted to be with Ryan and make music with him. That Ryan couldn’t bare to be away from Min, that despite his life on the road, all he wanted was to be with Min and make music. The train didn’t count on the fact that Min and Ryan’s connection was EXTREMELY CLOSE.

In conclusion:

Train was trying to say that these two represented her in different ways so she should look at them, learn from them and be better, but maybe all Amelia saw was how they were like herself and Alrick and got jealous, so instead of Amelia realising that everything she had done was wrong, she got jealous and it sped up her want to take over the train, along with the whole “Anything Is Possible Here” idea.

#infinity train #infinity train book 4 #ryan akagi #min-gi park #rymin #amelia hughes #infinity train theory #finish infinity train #renew infinity train #ramblings

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talesofstyles · 5 years

Text

Did I Break It?

A domestic dad!Harry and husband!Harry, where you share a glass of wine in the kitchen and enjoy scraps of the kids’ leftovers while trying to figure out Year 3 maths homework. Oh and followed by quite a realistic smut because some nights aren’t just meant to be, right?

Honestly, you thought you’d be done with maths when you finished school. Well jokes on your younger self because here you are, a little over a decade later, nursing a much-needed glass of Riesling as you work through equivalent fractions to check on your son’s homework while Harry deals with bedtime stories upstairs. Or so you thought, because now you hear the sound of the stairs creaking (that would probably finally get fixed by the time your last baby turn eighteen), followed by familiar footsteps coming into the kitchen. There’s absolutely no need for you to lift up your head and glance towards the arched doorway, because you’d recognise that sound anywhere. But you do it anyway.

And there he is, your husband, making his way into the kitchen looking all happy and soft. Although you won’t deny the fact that he does look like he needs a wash and a good night’s sleep, because that’s what being in charge of bedtime routine for four young children aged eight and under does to you. But even then, the combination of exhaustion and pure joy on his face that makes him look very much like a dad, is a sight you enjoy getting a front-row seat every night and one that you wouldn’t trade for the world.

“Tha’ was quick,” you comment as you feel two arms sliding around your waist, and then a chin drops onto your shoulder. You let out a small, contented sigh, before setting down the white wine on the kitchen island and wrap your arms around his.

He cheekily takes the opportunity to pull out one of his arms from around your waist, and proceeds to steal your wine from the counter. “Hey!” You protest, eyebrow raising playfully at the sight of him smirking before taking a sip.

“Wha’?” He feigns innocence as he sets the glass back down on the counter. His smile is still playful as he looks down on you, before leaning closer to give you a soft, chaste peck just beside your ear.

“I haven’t cooked for us,” you start before you take another slug of your wine. “If you’re hungry, think there’s still some leftovers in the kids’ lunch boxes.”

“Oh, no school dinners this week?” Harry asks as he makes his way to the other side of the kitchen island where your children’s lunch boxes are sat. He opens one of them and immediately begins munching on a baby carrot.

“Nope,” you shake your head, and you frown when you see the untouched veggies and a nearly full sandwich with only one or two bites max missing. Although the treat is surely gone. “Whose is that?”

Harry flips the lid to see and mumbles your daughter’s name, before helping himself to the cold sandwich. “She only took the KitKat,” he laughs.

“Your daughter,” you roll your eyes comically.

“Nope, nuh uh, she’s all yours ‘cause I swear to god you’re just as picky when it comes to food,” Harry teases you as he takes the last carrot stick before moving onto the second lunch box, grinning proudly when he finds it perfectly empty. “Now, this is my son.”

“S’tha’ so?” You muse, realising the fact that he’s right and you’ve lost this one.

“Mhm,” he hums. “One hundred percent my boy.”

“Here, check your boy’s homework then,” you can’t help but grin as you slide his maths book across the counter.

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he mutters jokingly as he catches the book, and his eyes widen as he looks at the questions. “Whoa, equivalent fractions. Year 3 kids do that now? What ‘appened to number lines?”

You let out a hearty laugh. “I know right?! I’m pretty sure I did this in Year 5.”

“Okay, we’ve got this,” he rolls up his sleeves, making you laugh even harder, before tucking a pencil behind one of his ears. “Six over twelve is blank over ninety six. Fuck, what’s ninety six divided by twelve?”

“Now’s the time to use yer brain innit, big head?” You tease him this time.

“Oi!” He complains, trying to sound annoyed but the smile plastered across his face is hard to miss. “Be nice t’me.”

You chuckled. “When am I not?”

Harry rolls his eyes in response, before he takes the pencil from behind his ear and holds it between his teeth instead as he tries to figure out the next question. There’s something about the way his brows knit together, and the way he bites his bottom lip when he takes the pencil from between his teeth and begins scribbling some numbers down on paper to count properly because his phone is charged upstairs in your room, that makes you can’t keep your eyes off of him. Although technically, that isn’t new, you two have disgust people around you by your inability to keep your eyes (and hands) off of each other for years. But there’s just something about him tonight that makes you all mushy.

You know how much he loves prancing around the stage in front of thousands, sparkly suits and all, and you hope he gets to do that for the rest of his life. But seeing him right now, looking all cuddly and soft and the epitome of a family man doing the mundane things like eating the scraps of whatever is left from the kids’ meals and double-checking their homework, your heart swells at the realisation that this is what he meant to be.

“You’re staring,” he shoots you a playful smirk. A little part of you hates the fact that your cheeks still flush, even after ten years of marriage and four babies later, for being caught staring. But the bigger part of you loves the fact that you still blush because of him, that he still makes you feel something you can’t even describe, and she wins.

“Sue me,” You challenge him, both of you smiling simultaneously.

“Nah,” he grins and shakes his head. “M’just as guilty.”

“Hey,” you start, pausing to take another slug of wine before you continue. “We haven’t shagged in a while.”

“S’tha’ you asking?” You notice how his grin grows ten times bigger and you love it, even more so with the familiar pair of dimples digging into his cheeks. “Does mummy want a shag? Hmm?”

“Harryyyy,” you whine in protest, because he knows how much you hate it when he calls you mummy, completely the opposite of him who gets crazy whenever you jokingly call him daddy. The word feels strange coming out from literally anyone else besides your own kids. “You’re ruining the mood.”

Your son’s homework is now forgotten on the other side of the counter. He stops behind you, sliding his arms back around your waist just the way he did earlier before he turns you around to face him.

“Wha’?” He feigns innocence once again and you roll your eyes. “Yer a mummy,” he states, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, still grinning ear to ear. “Mum t’me babies.”

“Yeah,” you respond in a sarcastic deadpan. “I wanted Ryan Gosling’s babies.”

“Funny that you’ve just said this now,” he retorts. “Four babies later.”

You can’t help but giggle, and you pull him by his waist even closer to you so you can wrap your arms around him. “M’joking. I love you. Love ‘avin yer babies.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, and you notice the way his lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “I can probably squeeze one more in there, then, hmm? Fifth baby, the cherry on top?”

Your eyes widen in terror. “Oh no, no no, don’t get any ideas,” you warn him. “Four is a good number.”

He lets out a giggle. “It is the best number,” he agrees. “And don’t worry, m’joking. Unless…” he trails off and smirks at you.

You push him away only to have him pulls you back into his embrace, before bringing his face down to meet yours and lock your mouths together.

“Not gonna take me to our bed first?” You asked him, eyebrow wiggling playfully when you finally break the kiss.

“Thought you love me shaggin’ you in the kitchen?”

“I’m a lady, Styles.”

“Yeah, right,” Harry laughs. “M’pretty sure at least half of our babies were conceived here,” he mutters, before he leans closer again to give you another lingering kiss.

“Wait,” you stop him and pull back. “I’m not hungry but it’s okay if you wanna have a proper dinner first?”

He licks his lips, smirking at you. “Got my dinner right here.”

“Wow,” you chuckle. “That line still works?”

“We’ll see now, won’t we?” Harry murmurs before he starts leaving a trail of kisses from your jawline down your neck.

“Bed,” you remind him.

“As you wish, darlin’.”

It feels forever before you finally reach your bedroom upstairs, but when you finally get there, he wastes not another single second before he pushes you against the door and kisses you hard. He lifts you up into his arms and strides over to the bed, and both of you fall into the mattress together.

Your breath hitches and your head loll to the side as his mouth finds your collarbone, his lips warm but his tongue even warmer. You feel his hand runs down your back before he plays with the seam of your shirt, slowly inching it up and you savour the feel of his warm hand as it brushes across your ribs. He barely lifts your shirt up and over your head before you sit up and reaches behind your back to unclasp your bra, and not wasting much time before you move your arms quickly as they slip out of the straps and toss it somewhere on the floor.

He starts kissing down your neck and over your naked chest. And you let his hand wander further south, cold fingers creeping underneath the waistband of your shorts, giving you a sneak peek of what’s to come.

You hold your breath when you feel his palm against your clothed core, before you feel him slowly pulling his hand out and begins fumbling with the button of your shorts.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles in annoyance when the button is being stubborn, and he pulls himself up for a second to see and try to figure out how to unfasten the bloody thing.

You let out a giggle before you sit up to try and help him out. But as you raise your head, he’s coming back down to have another go at it, resulting in you whacking him right on the bridge of his nose. Harry groans in pain as he rolls into his back, covering his face with both hands as he does.

“Oh my god!” You quickly sit up and try to lower his hands so you can see his nose. “Are you okay? Are you bleeding? Is it broken?”

“Mhm,” he nods his head to assure you that he is okay. You wait for another few seconds before he pulls his hands away. “Am I bleeding?”

“No, but you’re crying,” you grimace. “Harry, I’m sorry.”

He let out a chuckle as he wipes his own tears. “Hey now, s’alright. I’m alright, yeah? Don’t worry. No blood, just a little tear.”

“Rain check?”

“Hell no,” he grins before his mouth attacks yours once again, taking your breath away. He holds himself up while he hungrily kisses your lips, slowly bringing you down to lay on your back again.

His five o’clock shadow is soft against your flushed face, dragging against your skin with every movement of his lips. You pull away when you feel his fingers fumbling with the button of your shorts again and giggle. “Let me get that.”

“Probably a good idea,” he nods and begins working on his own boxers.

After you manage to discard every piece of clothing without any further incident, things are progressing rather quickly and smooth sailing and before you know it, he flips you over so you’re on top of him. Both of you smile at the same time, realising the switch of power, and you notice how much he is trying to savour the rare occasion.

You lift up slightly, feeling the tip of his cock settle just where you desperately need it to be, before you slowly sink home.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy,” he jokes and you snort.

You slap his chest playfully. “Shut up, you’re ruining the moment.”

Soon enough the laughter and pained groans are replaced by passionate whimpers and gasps. He searches for your fingers to intertwine with his, and while it’s heartwarming, it makes you lose your balance and you can feel him slipping out of you. You try to reconnect without letting go of his hands, but you miss and feel him jab hard against the crease of your inner thigh. You quickly jump off of him as he cries out in pain and folds back on himself.

“Fuck!” You sit up straight away. “Harry, are you okay? Shit, I broke it, didn’t I? Oh my god, tell me, did I break it? Do we need to go to the A&E?!”

“No, no, s’alright,” he tries to calm you down, and while his words are comforting, looking at his face you know that he’s not okay.

You run your hand on his back, trying to soothe him. “Did I break it?”

He let out painful laughter before he takes a deep breath. “No, you didn’t,” he starts. “Although I hope you’re happy with four ‘cause I don’t think we can have more after this.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologise again, cringing at the sight of him clutching his manhood in pain.

“Really, s’okay doll,” he tries to comfort you. “No worries, yeah? S’not broken, I promise. It’ll be up and runnin’ before you know it.”

You chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood. “It really wasn’t meant to be tonight, huh?”

“Married you, didn’t I? Got the rest of our lives to shag” He grins, and it’s either the pain has disappeared or he’s just a really great actor. “‘Sides, this makes a pretty great story.”

“You’d never let me live it down, wouldn’t you?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head in laughter. “Hey, remember when you almost broke my nose AND my dick in one night?”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x yn #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabbles #harry styles blurbs #dad!harry #husband!harry #the styles gang #harry styles fluff #dad harry imagines #harry styles fic

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baby-grayson · 4 years

Text

Kind Stranger| GBD

Word Count: 2.8k (teeny tiny) Trigger Warning: quarantine talk A/N: This is my first fic post ever! Please let me know what you think about this little teaser. Please please give me feedback about if I should keep going or if I can improve at all!!

The saltwater hit his tongue sharply. His body fell alongside his board in the water. While his feet met the ground again, he quickly scooped up the wayward board before it floated too far away. Arriving back on the shore, he dug the bottom of the board into the heavy, wet sand. He sat next to it, the tide kissing his feet and bare legs as it danced along the shore. He took a deep breath. He was at peace.

Grayson Dolan didn’t feel peace often: at least, not lately. The past two years had been one chaotic haze after another. Moving into a house in LA. Being on Fear Factor. Having his first stalker. Being there to watch his father pass. Starting a fragrance company. Erupting into a workaholic pattern of self-destruction to avoid dealing with the emotions of his father’s death. Announcing to his over 10million fans that he and Ethan had reached their last emotional string and needed to pursue a life that was happiest for them, including projects that pushed them as creators.

The creative projects were as scary and dizzying as they were exciting. He and Ethan traveled across the country in a custom van. They explored the Australian wilderness. They started a podcast with their friend, Ryan, to introduce the real, mature versions of themselves to the internet. Grayson had a small black notebook in his bottom left desk drawer with project ideas and timelines for the year.

But that notebook became pointless when the pandemic hit. He and Ethan were in the process of finding a new house after an incident with an unhealthily obsessed fan when the shelter in place orders hit. The first month was unstable; no one should have to move to a new house in the middle of a pandemic. But the craziness subsided eventually, Grayson and Ethan found a home to call their own for the first time in their lives. After living in close quarters during construction left them at each other’s throats, they found a rental in Malibu to live out the rest of their quarantine days. Periodically, the visited their mother in New Jersey.

Visiting New Jersey did not exactly follow the CDC guidelines. Grayson quelled the risk in his heart with the importance of his mother. If she wasn’t working and he and Ethan only ever saw each other, how dangerous could it really be? Besides, his mother needed him. After the death of his father, his mother was left alone in their house in rural New Jersey. She had nothing but the memories of buying the home, bringing home two twin baby boys, teaching her daughter how to ride a bike, and having tough conversations about her sons’ dreams… Yeah, she needed him. Grayson decided. Grayson still held guilt from not spending enough time with his mother after his father passed. He loved her more than anything, and in a deep place, a place so deep that he didn’t dare think on often, he would never forgive himself for not being there for her in the weeks following his father’s passing.

He thought of her often: like on this beach in Malibu. He thought of how she’d love to pull up a beach chair and enjoy a Mojito while soaking up the sun. The image almost made him chuckle. For a short second, he pictured Ethan and Cameron there with her. Cameron would pull up a beach chair next to their mother, blasting her latest musical obsession from a stereo. Ethan would try to surf, but eventually his more whimsical tendencies would give out and he’d try building the biggest sandcastle a 20-year-old man child could muster.

Grayson chuckled to himself, he buried his hands in the sand at his sides. He played with it in his palms, feeling the fine granules pass over his coarse skin. A thousand little diamonds slowly withering away at a firm and precise exterior. He was also reminded of his mother constantly telling him to exfoliate his callouses from building.

This was Grayson mid-pandemic. The mess of finding a house passed. The initial marvel of staying busy inside the house passed. Hell, even the wonder of cutting his home-grown mullet had passed. Now, he and Ethan traded turns being the more bored twin. Ethan had re-watched Stranger Things about 10 times by now. Grayson spent his days working out, following his regimented daily routine to soon reach a Planche Hold. Occasionally, one of them would reach a deeper state of boredom and go to bother the other twin. They would go to bed and rehearse the routine again the next day.

Unfortunately for Grayson, Ethan slept like the dead. His twin brother usually slept until 11:00 AM; the pandemic had pushed that to a firm 1:00PM. His brother’s sleeping beauty impression left Grayson with nearly half a day to himself. Grayson made a ritual out of going surfing. The beach was secluded enough to not require the precautionary thinking of masks and hygiene in a pandemic. It was just Grayson, his board, and the ocean. He spent his alone time thinking of the important people in his life. In some ways, this pandemic was almost a good thing for him. He spent last year moving too fast among emotions he was too immature to process on his own. This year the world forced him to move too slow in an attempt to let his mind and heart catch up to the rest of his life. His introspective moments on the sand and sea were his own to experience and process alone. Except today.

She looked down at him and smiled, “Good Morning”

His lips turned up softly, “Morning”

He watched as she walked away: a long, dark ponytail fluttering in the wind over a flowy, white sundress sundress with a small, leather purse hanging at her hip. Grayson leaned back on his palms when he noticed something. Her footprints weren’t even. In the sand, one foot was about two inches deeper than the other. He furrowed his brow, pondering it for a second before shaking his head. He dipped his hands in the water and wet his newly cropped haircut. He was seeing things, probably swallowing too much salt. He grabbed his board and headed up shore to his van.

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He wouldn’t have recognized her without the hair. The next day, he was paddling back to shore on his board when she walked by. He could make out her long, dark hair against the pale, sandy background. He squinted: not being able to tell if she was looking back at him. He smiled brightly and outwardly, just in case she could see him. His smile faded in a few seconds. what am I doing? He thought before padding back to shore to make his usually introspective campsite.

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The third day, he was firmly in deep thought about his next tattoo when she walked by. They made eye contact as they flashed each other warm, but polite, smiles. “Good Morning” “Good Morning”.

This secluded little beach not his own anymore. He shared it with a kind stranger. She was a silent reminder that the world continued to turn outside of his fast-paced, modern, social media based lifestyle. Okay he thought maybe I’m being a bit deep …but it’s nice to have someone else around I guess.

Their routine played for two weeks. She would walk by Grayson, either as he was coming to land again or paddling his way back to shore. They exchanged greetings and smiles as they passed. By the time she turned around and walked back to her car again, Grayson was gone. Sometimes she saw the imprint of him in the sand when he was gone and thought about him when he wasn’t there. For a few minutes, she would muse to herself about his name. Sterling? No too Disney. Lance? No too King Arthur. William? No too Royal Family.

Occasionally, Grayson would think back to her outside of his beach visits. Maybe he passed a girl with long, dark hair in the grocery store, or maybe he saw someone about her size on the other side of a parking lot, he would catch his breath quickly before realizing it wasn’t her. What would I even say? Are we friends? She probably doesn’t remember what I look like. Why do I care? That last one got him.

Why did he care? Sure, he thought, she was pretty. She seemed nice, well okay her Good Mornings sound nice…nicest he’d heard in a while considering the only other person who wished him a good morning was Ethan. Maybe that was just it, he was spending too much time by himself or with Ethan. Ethan and Grayson had been quarantined together for almost four months now. The only other people he had seen was his mother, sister, and friend Ryan. When you only speak to 4 other people face to face for four months, the girl on the beach was a contender for one of his closest friends. The thought settled well in his brain, rationalizing his anxieties about seeing her in public.

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About two weeks later, on a Tuesday morning, the sky was grey as the sun hid behind the clouds; the ocean water was unusually murky with dense foam. Grayson’s head must have been in the grey clouds because his usual surfing excursion left him tumbling around in the water more than usual. He started back for the shore earlier than usual, sensing that today was simply not his day. When the water reached his chest, Grayson started to walk upright in the water while dragging his board behind him. Not a few seconds later, he felt a sharp pain stab the outer edge of his left foot. “FUCK”, he swore out loud and gasped. The saltwater heightened the pain as he continued to trudge through the water.

He arrived on shore and noticed a jagged, long cut along the side of his right foot. The saltwater washed away the blood seeping through the wound: all that was left was a deep, slender slice taken out of the side of his foot. He tossed his board down, not bothering to dig it into the sand. He sat on the waters edge, trying to wash the sand out of the wound but wincing when the salt returned with its pointed sting. He groaned softly to himself.

I can’t walk back to the car like this, he thought to himself.

He threw his head back, frustrated with the situation. Frustrated with how he might have scratched his board on a rock from tossing it down. Frustrated from the deep wound spewing blood from his foot. Frustrated with his loneliness. Frustrated with the pandemic. Frustrated with his career. It all lead him here: sitting on a beach, more than half naked, with a bloody foot and a bruised ego. He sighed out loud and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Are you okay?”

Grayson nearly jumped, not because she was mean or aggressive but because he was having his internal meltdown under the impression that he was alone. He forgot about his little beach friend. Her brow furrowed softly, oh shit I should say something.

“Yeah, I uhh I just got cut up is all” Grayson waived his injured foot softly from where it lay.

She hesitated for a second, neither of them was wearing a mask. Surely Dr. Fauci would approve of her helping a lone stranger who was in pain. She ignored the premonition, figuring that she wouldn’t be seeing anyone else soon anyway but remembering to put a mask in her purse for any future first aid incidents.

“Do you need a hand?” Her eyes were kind and caring, a deep brown that looked nearly gold in the grey light of that Tuesday morning. Grayson found himself looking at her, really looking at her for the first time since they started sharing the beach. She did not notice Grayson’s awkward gawk getting the best of him. She bent her head down, her eyes leaving Grayson’s gaze to search her purse for something. Grayson realized how small she was, probably only 5 feet tall and slender framed underneath her T-shirt and shorts. She unearthed a small, white package from within her purse. “Bandaid?” she offered, holding it out to him.

“Yeah that’d be great,” Grayson nodded softly and took the package from her. He looked from the white box to his cut and his muscles tensed up, unsure of where to start. He looked up at her, his brown eyes wide with uncertainty. She smiled softly at him, reassuring that frustrated place in his heart slightly. “Want some help?”, she was already kneeling down before he could start nodding.

Grayson slipped the white bandage box into her small palm as she started wiping away the larger pieces of sand around the cut. “You think it could get infected?” he asked, “By something in the water?”

She laid a piece of gauze over his cut as she shook her head. “No, the salt in the water would act as an electrolyte to dehydrate the phospholipid bilayer of any aquatic bacteria before it even got in.” He felt his eyebrows raise. She wrapped his foot in a larger bandage before adding, “uh I mean… it’s salt water, so you’ll be fine…..how did you do this anyway?”

“I must’ve stepped on a rock coming out of the water,” Grayson coolly forgot to mention his earlier debacle of looking like a Saint Bernard on a surfboard.

“If a big guy like you can get taken down by a rock, I have no chance in this world,” she remarked while standing up and putting the box back in her purse. Grayson laughed out loud with a wide smile. Her joke wasn’t even that funny, but it had been so long since he heard someone make a joke besides Ethan.

She smiled down at him, “I like the band” she gestured toward the solid black tattoo on his right ankle. “I think I would go with an anklet though,” she added with a soft confidence.”

Grayson tried to stand on the freshly bandage foot, “True but this way I’ll never lose it in the ocean.”

It was her turn to laugh, she flashed a bright smile at him and let out a happy sound. Her laugh died down as Grayson stood up tall: a tanned, muscular Adonis standing before her. “Well um..I’m glad to see you’re doing okay,” she started to step away from him, “See you later.” She smiled before turning away.

“See you later,” Grayson waved goodbye as she turned her back and continued her walk. He stopped himself, why was a grown man waving goodbye in public like a kindergartener at school? He let his hand fall to his side before picking up his board and walking back to his van. He looked down at his foot, I guess Ethan is taking out the trash tonight..and making me dinner.

On the other side of the beach, she drew in a breath and cursed to herself, shit..I didn’t get his name..

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Grayson returned to the beach the next morning without his board. He decided that getting his bandaged (freshly done and kissed with love by Ethan) foot was too much of a risk. Also, he feared cutting up his good foot with a matching gash. He couldn’t depend on pretty girls with nice eyes to always be there with bandaids. Instead, he sat down on the sand, letting the water run over his right foot and leg. He held his injured leg in his bicep, folding his knee up to meet his chest. With his free arm, he tried to skip stones in the water from his position on the ground.

He tried his best to enjoy his introspective morning with the ocean, even though he wasn’t in the water.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without your board” she looked down at him from under the visor of a black baseball hat.

He chucked, “Boards don’t pair well with bandaged feet.” He smiled up at her, “Thank you, by the way, for yesterday. I really appreciate it… You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem….just being a kind stranger,” outwardly, she smiled gently but inwardly she cringed at the awkwardness of her own words. Grayson smiled gently back at her, she can’t have been too awkward if he’s still looking at her right?

“My names Kate”

“I’m Grayson” A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! This is the first thing I am ever posting and would really appreciate any feedback you have about whether or not I should keep going. <3

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youngerdrgrey · 3 years

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the mile don't die club // a Batwoman oneshot

summary: Slight canon divergence for 2x08 where Ryan and Sophie chat post-Coryana, first right after and then again at the clinic. (Some angst but let's have some fun. This was a rough episode.) WildMoore + read on ao3 notes: Pretend with me for a moment that they don't have to think about the Kate of it all for, like, a split second after the Coryana meltdown, okay? Like the news of Kate being dead isn't a thing. We get to have a split second of fun. We open on the plane with Sophie and Ryan-as-Batwoman, while Jacob Kane flies them home.

Ryan winces as the turbulence jostles her again. The heavy shaking reignites the fire in her body. One particularly strong one sends Ryan away from the window and spilling over partially into the empty seat beside her.

Sophie quickly unbuckles and crosses the row to sit beside Ryan. She softly lifts Ryan from the half-bent position and props Ryan against her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Sophie says. “It’s been a while since he’s flown a plane.” She chuckles, but there’s a nervous edge under it. “I think I’ll stick to commercial flights.”

It’s not a good joke, but the fact that Sophie’s trying is a comfort. Why joke when the other person’s dying, right? Plus, talking kind of helps Ryan stay awake.

Ryan swallows around her tight throat to say, “This is my second flight ever.” A labored breath. “I’m glad to have done it before dying.”

“Whoa, Luke has a cure. You’re not dying. And you’re not giving up. Kate was… one of the best people I ever knew, and I’d really like her legacy to continue.”

It’s a more honest side to Sophie than Ryan’s ever seen with her own eyes. They’re shoulder to shoulder for the second time tonight. The view of the burning Desert Rose was definitely better than the inside of this stolen plane, but the warmth and steadiness of Sophie beside her is the same. Still comforting enough that it stops up her emotions like a lump in her chest. Ryan’s breath shakes around it. Sophie takes her hand again over the gloves of the suit. If Ryan has to die on this plane, let it be like this.

Her whole body’s heavy, tired, and she sinks closer to the comfort Sophie’s offering so willingly. “Don’t look.” She’s dozing off, so she can’t fully tell if she says it aloud. “You won’t… like me if you look.”

Sophie stares down at her, and her voice comes out soft and contemplative. “Why’s that?” But Ryan can’t get the energy up to answer. She shrugs.

🦇

Ryan jolts awake with a gasp. She yanks at the cowl when Luke stops her. His hands warm and steady on hers. “Hey, breathe. Batwoman , wait.” His eyes dart towards the door to the clinic hallway. “We’re not alone in the building.”

Her whole face crumples in confusion. “Who—”

“Sophie. She, uh, waited for you… to wake up.” He looks more confused than worried.

Ryan’s adrenaline kicks in for a moment of clarity. “Did she look?” If Sophie knows, then everything gets more complicated. Their begrudging partnership, their very real world problems.

Luke shakes his head. “I-I don’t think so. I feel like your secret’s safe. But she did want to see you so…. Can I bring her in or…?”

Ryan blinks a few times to try and clear her head. Take stock of the room. Luke’s closest to her. Right at her bed. Mary is near the door. Mary saved her. God, she loves Mary. Best friend / roommate / illegal doctor around. Mary smiles at Ryan.

“I’m all for it,” Mary says. Ryan doesn’t remember asking, but it makes sense that she might’ve asked something.

Ryan clicks back on the voice modifier in the suit. “Fine. Bring her in.”

The Sophie who enters isn’t the Crow that Ryan’s interacted with time and time again. This is someone unsure. Someone curious and nervous and worried in a way that doesn’t feel misplaced or condescending. It’s confusing to see the way that Sophie’s face splits up with relief at the sight of Batwoman sitting up in the bed. Also confusing — Ryan recognizes the worry. She’s seen this crinkle around Sophie’s eye, this tension in her jaw that snaps free with a tiny sigh.

How long has Sophie cared about Ryan? And would she look this visibly relieved if she knew it was Ryan under the mask?

Ryan shakes her head to clear the thought, but then Sophie’s crossing a few more steps in to be close to the bed. Mary and Luke stay guard, on either side of the room, and they cut glances between each other like they can’t decide if giving privacy would be better or worse in the long run.

“At ease, guys. I just… wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re okay.” There’s a roughness in Sophie’s voice, a graveled out roughed up core like she’s been worrying herself into a lower register.

Ryan nearly smiles. “Thanks to you. You, uh…”

“Saved your life?” Sophie offers with a grin. “Repaying the favor.”

Right. Ryan had chosen to save Sophie rather than keep the map to Coryana. It’d worked out well in the end, given that then Sophie could get Ryan back out of there.

“Consider us even.”

“I’ll consider it,” Sophie says, a tinge of humor in her voice, “but getting you all the way back here without endangering your identity…”

Ryan cuts her eyes to Luke, as her eyebrows shoot up. He can’t see it with the mask, but Ryan would love to spit an ‘I told you so’ to him. There’s always an ulterior motive with someone like Sophie.

Sophie shrugs. “It’s gotta be worth a drink at least.”

Ryan sputters. Mary squeaks on the other side of the room. As everyone turns to her, Mary quickly says, “She can’t drink on medication. Even with a magical cure all. It’s just, you know, normal… doctor… stuff.”

Sophie nods. “Of course. Another time then.” It’s not a question, but she does turn back to Ryan like she’s waiting for a response.

But Ryan’s stumped. How does she respond to something like that? She’d expected Sophie to be intense. Sophie’s always been this person who favors responsibility and all this stuff over everything. She only makes jokes when she has the upper hand. She literally got Ryan to spy on her ex and cost Ryan the latest take with Angelique. And now, what, she wants to be friends? Or is she looking to add another Bat-shaped notch to her bedpost?

It should make Ryan upset, but honestly, Ryan wonders which version of Sophie would be there if they got a drink. If Ryan were in the Batsuit, then maybe Sophie would be more open, more like… talkative maybe. But the suit would be so uncomfortable. It’d be better out of it. Better at The Hold Up, or on the couch in the loft. Sophie’s raspy voice giving way to a rough laugh, and Ryan could be as warm in front of a very different fire than the wild one on Coryana.

Ryan blinks the images away. Her face burns as her brows scrunch. She doesn’t even have a fireplace. Why would they need it? Where would they have that? On a vacation, just the two of them. No flying this time. A boat maybe. Wind in their hair, some nice bikinis.

Wait. “No.” Ryan shakes her head. “No, thank you.” She needs to clear her head, and having Sophie here right now is not helping. Especially not when Sophie smiles at her after Ryan says no.

Sophie nods. “Copy that. We can pass on the drinks. We’re not done — not with looking for Kate, or this conversation.” Then she turns to Mary and Luke and sort of nods, like giving them her okay to keep going. Ryan can practically hear the ‘Take care of her’ in Sophie’s stare. Mary nods back, clearly accepting the mission. And then Sophie’s gone.

They can hear her footsteps get further and further away. Hear the clinic door shut.

Mary’s got a shit-eating grin on her face. She does this sound that’s somewhere between a squeal and a groan as she crosses over to the bed. “I cannot believe Sophie just asked you out.”

Ryan’s thankful for the cowl still covering her flushed cheeks. “Yeah, well, I’m not interested in eating Crow.”

Luke snorts, which makes Ryan rethink her words. Mary full on cackles. Ryan sits up to throw the closest thing across the room at both of them.

“Eat! I said EAT! Not eating ou—“

“I didn’t say anything!” Luke says, but he keeps laughing. Mary too, and Ryan joins in. Ryan wills her brain not to procure any images to follow that train of thought. The last thing she needs is to start having sex dreams about Sophie. Though, if it’s between that and the kryptonite nightmares…. There are worse ways to go.

🦇

#wildmoore #ryan x sophie #ryan wilder #sophie moore #batwoman #batwoman fic #batwoman: s2 #mine #batwoman: 208 #bat team of color

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xmanicpanicx · 4 years

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Romanticized Things That Aren't Actually Romantic

1) The "shut up" kiss

It happens in more movies, TV shows, and novels than I can even count. One half of the couple (usually a woman or girl) will be talking, and the other person (usually a guy) will suddenly lay an ol’ sloppy one on her mouth. Often times, she’s rambling about her insecurities, so some people think it’s cute when he kisses her, symbolically laying her worries to rest. Don’t worry, hon! There’s nothing to be insecure about! He likes you! There are two big problems with this. The first is that when someone is speaking, you shouldn’t cut them off; best case scenario, it’s rude. Of course, people cut each other off all the time in conversation, so that’s different. But when a character interrupts another character’s speech to kiss them, they are essentially prioritizing their sexual desires over the other person’s need to express themselves. It’s an action that has an agenda. Everyone wants to be truly listened to when they speak. So if, for example, we have a female character babbling about her insecurities, the male character should hear her out, and then respond to what she says. There is plenty of romantic potential in words — even more than in kisses, in my opinion. His response could still be a kiss after she’s finished speaking (as long as it’s not a rattlesnake-strike type of kiss that doesn’t give her a choice). However, we still have another problem: the female character’s self-confidence shouldn’t be contingent upon the male character’s opinion of her. In other words, a kiss from a guy, no matter how much she loves him, will not and should not heal her negative perception of herself. Not healthy. Real people and characters should accept themselves on their own terms rather than on the approval of others.

Sometimes, the sudden kiss will come in the middle of a female character’s angry rant. The male character thinks she’s cute or sexy when she’s angry, which can be frustrating and patronizing for anyone who voices their anger because they want to be listened to and taken seriously. But regardless of why the character is talking, the other character should stop kissin’ and start listenin’.

2) Female double standards

Women and girls often feel really uncomfortable when men objectify them and make comments on their bodies, so they call these men out — and rightfully so. They also call male authors out for only describing women in terms of their bodies and giving them very little, if any, personality. Once again, rightfully so. Unfortunately, in real life and in literature, there is a double standard here. It’s one thing to write an erotic novel in which bodies of every gender are described in explicit detail and with an express purpose. But I’ve read novels without any sexual content that go into so much detail about guys’ looks. And these male characters are often not well-developed, either (think of the stereotypical jock with a hot bod and no brain). Authors — especially female authors, who are usually the ones perpetuating this — need to do better than this. If it's not okay to do that to girls, it's not okay to do that to guys, either. Also, what is up with that scene from The Notebook? The one where Rachel McAdams repeatedly slaps Ryan Gosling because he’s breaking up with her. How on Earth is that okay? The Notebook is widely considered to be a super-romantic movie, but there is nothing romantic about that scene, and it should be a deal-breaker for their relationship. If the tables were turned and Ryan Gosling slapped Rachel McAdams for breaking up with him, the entire plot of the movie would be different. It would be a thriller, a story about a woman trying to escape a scary ex. We would never root for the two of them to get back together.

3) Overly-metaphorical sex scenes

Cheese, cheese, and more cheese. Would you like some crust and tomato sauce with all that cheese? So many novels shy away from the anatomical details and favor metaphors for how the sex makes the characters (or just the narrating character) feel. In theory, there is nothing wrong with this, but I personally tend to roll my eyes more often than not at the actual execution. The narrator will say something too dramatic, like “our bodies became one and the universe opened up before me.” Or “and then we were flying, soaring with and through one another.” Or something else that is just… not sexy. As far as being poetic, there isn’t anything special about those phrases, either. There is nothing wrong with describing sex as it really is. I realize that novels featuring sex that are aimed at young adults probably cannot describe things too explicitly, but there’s no need to replace dirty details with flowery language. Go for whatever sincerity you can in the situation. There are plenty of different emotions to mine and sensual details leading up to the actual sex that read more thrillingly than the sex scene itself.

4) Instalove

It's simply not as much fun to see characters fall for each other right away. And how could they possibly fall for each other right away, anyhow? Is it all about looks? If so, both characters are instantly less likable because they're shallow. And that's not real love, either. You need to actually know someone in order to feel a such a deep emotion for them.

It's also important to note that making the characters "love" each other at the outset of the story does not heighten the emotional stakes. It actually cheapens them. Because how can we take this so-called love seriously when we don't get to know, don't get to care about, the characters as individual people before they fall for each other?

Now, if we get to know each character and watch them get to know each other, and slowly fall for each other, that's much more rewarding. It's character growth, and it's a whole process that we, as readers, get to experience vicariously though them.

This may just be a personal preference, but I think it's best to even avoid phrases like “my heartbeat skipped” or “my skin tingled when our hands brushed” in the beginning stages of the story. Even though the declarations of love and outright displays off affection may come later on, statements like these reveal instant attraction, which still isn't as rewarding as attraction that grows over time and through events.

5) Love interests being obsessed with each other

From approximately 2005-2015, YA literature saw a horde of books featuring teenage girls and boys who are everything to each other. I almost mean that literally. The first really popular book like this was Twilight, but it had a huge influence on everything in YA that came after, especially YA fantasy. How romantic, some people think, that hero lives for the heroine! And vice versa! Perfect! Meant to be! Everyone wishes they could have that one, true, perfect love!

Listen. Go back to Britney Spears’s first album and play the song “Born to Make You Happy”: ”I don’t know how to live without your love, I was born to make you happy.” Solid 90s bubblegum pop, but with unhealthy lyrics. An unhealthy mentality. Most of us are familiar with that heady, all-consuming feeling of falling in love, how it feels like that’s the best and happiest part of life as it’s happening. There’s nothing wrong with portraying that. It’s relatable. The glorification of it beyond all else is the problem. The hero and heroine have scares throughout the story during which they almost lose each other, and that brings to light just how strongly they feel each other, to the extreme that nothing matters except each other. Then, of course, they ultimately end up together, happily ever after, never having to part again. But in real life, people break up, or sometimes even die. People have no choice but to be apart from the person they loved so much from then on. And it’s devastating, but it’s not the end, even if it sometimes feels like it. That’s why it’s so important for books to give some indicator that there are other things that matter besides (and dare I say even more than) the one person the hero/heroine is in love with. The characters have to have some sense of self-love or resilience. They have to have other people they care about, or at least values/principles and goals. They have to be an actual person, not just a vessel filled to the brim with love for just one other person. Romanticizing a co-dependent relationship can be hope-crushing message, especially for teenagers who haven’t had enough time to grow, to weather the storm of life and toughen up and become wiser and more self-aware and self-confident.

7) The super dominant male love interest

Okay, I’m not trying to kink-shame anyone because I know there are people who absolutely love this trope. I want to say it’s fine, as long as it remains in Tropeland. But even if women want to keep these love interests solely within their fantasies, I do worry about the message it sends to men, if it makes them think that they can be abusive douchebags because women are into that. I already know of far too many men who think that women are only into assholes.

Personally, I’ll never understand the appeal of a man, fictional or otherwise, who dictates what a woman should wear, her food choices, where they go and what they do for dates ALL THE TIME. And jealousy! Sure, jealousy indicates that someone cares, and it’s a normal human emotion, but I’ll never understand the appeal of a guy who gets so jealous, he won’t allow his girlfriend any freedom. I’ll never understand how cruel, disparaging words could ever be on the same sexiness level as dirty talk. And I really, really will never understand how a man physically harming a woman could be considered sexy. It’s weak and cowardly, hurting someone who doesn’t stand a chance of fighting back because they’re nowhere near as strong.

I get the appeal of a guy who sees a woman as his equal and isn’t afraid to spar with her, challenge her, and maybe even be a little bit rough with her, knowing that she can handle it. I see the appeal of a confident man who isn’t afraid to tell a woman what he wants. When his presence becomes legitimately threatening and completely selfish, that’s when I personally see a problem. But hey, to each their own.

#writing #writing advice #ya fiction #writing rants #writing rambles

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naancypants · 4 years

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A big, fat Nancy x Ace character analysis

My mind is so blown at how Nancy and Ace are literally just perfectly aligned with each other. In EVERY WAY. It’s soooo subtle and yet it’s not??? Not if you’re looking?

The way his calming, laid-back personality is SO well-suited to her tendency to get worked up; if she’s upset, he will back away and let her figure things out on her own time, which is exactly what she needs. Nancy is the kind of person who needs space to work through things before she can open up about them. Otherwise, if you try to make her talk before she’s ready, the results are usually explosive. It causes her to feel strained and mentally claustrophobic. She is otherwise a very smart and sensible person, so we know that this is simply her emotional process. Emotions can be messy, and I think it’s the one area of intelligence that she isn’t totally comfortable dealing in. If Nancy feels external pressure to talk about her feelings before she even knows what they ARE yet, it’s going to make her uncharacteristically cold. That’s what brings out the worst in her - and it’s something that is bypassed altogether in her relationship with Ace.

Not that we got to see this onscreen, but the fact that she was drawn to him before they even really knew each other in that she felt it was safe to vent to him about her personal problems with college.

Ace’s area of expertise (hacking & technology) is exactly where Nancy’s is not, so they can both contribute equally when they’re on a team. Speaking of which, when you combine ALL of their skills and knowledge there is SO MUCH TALENT between the two of them?! Between Nancy’s bold interrogation skills, ability to crack out a plan of action, fearlessness/fortitude, & of course her brilliant mind and Ace’s knowledge of hacking, ASL, morse code, and his instinctive smarts - like holy cow. They’re covered on all bases. Not to mention they’re both notably skilled in lockpicking.

Nancy is such a high-strung go-getter and Ace is so chill, yet dependable. He’s totally ride or die and will always be there if she wants to do anything, e.g. follow up on a lead. Like Kennedy said in her interview, they’re the ones who are always ready to go, go, go. Nancy’s the instigator, but Ace is along for the ride. Whatever she needs. (even if he originally insists that he won’t go 👀)

I also feel like there is kind of an unspoken understanding between the two of them. It’s not even that they’re super similar, but they’re both perceptive and they just... GET each other. Especially Ace; I think he has this really inherent grasp on who Nancy is, and while he’s been sort of a background player for her up until recently, she’s starting to see that and appreciate it as she spends more time with him. There’s this electric undercurrent of mutual respect between them and I LIVE for it.

I think Nancy needs someone like Ace to keep her grounded. By not asking her to open up, he encourages Nancy to open up to him. When Nancy is all stressed out in her head, Ace is there with sympathy and a relaxing spirit. If she needs to go somewhere or get something done, no matter the reason, he will be there with no questions asked. He serves as a steady guidepost, a rock, a beacon of calm and stability for her.

On the other hand, Ace may not need Nancy in the same way but she’s exactly the kind of person who will ENHANCE his life and make it better. Her presence allows him to explore his sleuthing abilities, something he’s totally adept at, and solving mysteries with her provides him with what feels like a purpose. That was something he said to Laura around mid-season 1; he felt like had a purpose in Horseshoe Bay. He has an opportunity now to care about other people, and to work towards a common goal for the greater good.

Ace is also very protective of Nancy when she has her emotional guard up. Twice in the last two episodes we saw her broach an uncomfortable topic in front of her friends (1x17 Ryan being her biological father, 1x18 “it’s where (Owen) used to.. have guests over...”), and BOTH times Ace immediately did what he could to divert attention away so she wouldn’t have to confront it with anyone before she was ready to. THAT’S LOVE, FAM.

Also, he’s constantly saying or doing things that make her give him that fond, amused little smile like she’s so surprised that someone with his brain could exist. It’s CUTE.

#cw nancy drew #nancy drew cw #nancy drew #nancy x ace #nace #cwnd spoilers #dear GOD i am a mess #1x18 broke me #this is my otp now #straight up #they'RE SOULMATES #it is OBVIOUS #*success

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martinkate · 4 years

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dawn jolly snippet!!

(Holly’s pov)

putting a cut because it’s mildly long and i don’t want to clutter up anyone’s dash!!!

With my back pressed against the brick wall in the dark alleyway and dark-wolf (Alisha’s wolves) bites on my shoulder, side, and legs, my only thought is, I kinda want a frozen lemonade right now.

I grimace. I stuff my hands into my jacket pockets-looking for some kind of healing juice or something--and find a small white card. It’s stained with blood (mine), but I can still read the address, and the message scrawled to the side: 2 hour date truce! -j.p.

I run through a map of the city in my mind. The closest entrance to my kingdom is 10 blocks away. The address is only one.

Well, I think. what do I have to lose?

I make my way to J.P Ross’s house, or evil headquarters, or whatever. Anything is better than a dark alleyway splattered with wolf-and-dawn-queen blood.

When I find the small house tucked into an unassuming suburban neighbourhood, I'm a little surprised. For a second I wonder: What if he wrote down the wrong address, and I show up, covered in blood, and a hand aglow so I can see (the streetlights are broken), on the doorstep of a random middle class family?

I shake my head. This is J.P Ross, criminal mastermind. He knows his own address.

I knock twice with a glowing fist.

The door opens, and he stands in the doorway, brown hair mussed, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, holding a glass of wine. His eyes widen when he sees me, bloody and shivering, on his doorstep.

He seems at a loss for words, but puts his wine glass down, and touches the bite on my shoulder. “...Holly Dawn?”

I can barely stand. I need to make him understand, to make him not kill me on the spot. I hold out the blood-stained white truce card. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

And then I collapse into the arms of my worst enemy.

When I wake, it’s by a fire, with a quilt around me, and a dull pain in my head. “...J.P?”

He is sitting beside me on a couch, dabbing at the wound on my shoulder. “Hello, Your Highness.” His smirk reminds me of Ryan’s when he teases Miranda.

I shake my head. It’s a mistake. Fuzzy spots cloud my vision. I turn to J.P.

“What did you give me? Some sort of sedative drug?”

“Nope. It’s just the Livis’s bites. They weaken Xonarians, especially Tallion’s. It’s a wonder you made it all the way here without passing out. How far away were you? Why didn’t you call your friends or something?”

I try to reach into my pocket, realizing I don't have my jacket on anymore. J.P seems to notice what I’m looking for, and holds up my jacket.

“Check the pockets,” I say.

He reaches into the left pocket, and pulls out my phone. The screen is shattered, and there’s a bullet hole clean through the middle (the MTT had killed a few of the wolves; I'd gotten caught in the crossfire.) He mouths, Oh.

I roll my eyes, and mouth back Yeah.

He smirks again. I have an uncontrollable urge to smack him, and I feel like I understand Miranda a little better now. He looks too annoying, smirking like that. And too cute.

What am I talking about?

J.P puts my broken phone on the coffee table. “You can have some screen time if you want,”

I really am about to smack him now, but a loud whistling noise stops me.

“J.P!” a voice yells from upstairs. J.P and I both tense. It’s Silentina, J.P’s niece. “That’s the kettle! Can you make me some lemon tea?”

“Uh, yeah! Just a second!” He turns to me, and his face is panicked.

“Can you stand?” he whispers. “No!” I whisper back.

“J.P?” Silentina calls. “Everything okay?”

“Fine!”

Without warning, he picks me up bridal-style, and when I squeak - out of pain and surprise - he presses a finger to my lips.

“She can’t know you’re here,” he murmured. I nodded, eyes wide. “Good.”

He carries me to a bland bedroom and places me gently on the bed. “Not a sound,” He reminds me.

I nod as he closes the door and heads back to make Silentina her tea.

I sit up on the bed and wince. My back is sore from sitting for so long. I want to turn some lights on, but that would alert Silentina of my presence. So I settled for curling my hands into a cup, and letting a small glimmer of gold bounce around in my hand.

J.P didn’t kill me when I was unconscious in his home. I, the hero, his enemy, had come to him, and basically begged him to help me. And he did.

What a strange villain.

Maybe he’s not your villain, a little voice whispers in my mind. I tell it to shut up. The voice sounds a lot like Miranda.

“You’re going out?” That’s J.P’s voice from the kitchen. I squeeze my hand, and listen.

“Yup.” That’s Silentina. “Going to be a teenager for a bit. Maybe see a movie. You don’t mind if I take a break from building, do you?” Building what?

“No, not at all. Have fun.”

“Mm, now I'm going to try as hard as I can not to.”

I can practically hear J.P rolling his eyes. “Okay, great to know. Bye!”

“Bye!”

I hear footsteps, and then the doorknob clicks, and J.P enters the room he put me in.

“Light,” he commands, and for a second i think he’s talking to me, and it’s a nickname or something, but no, he’s talking to the room.

Beautiful, golden light floods the gloomy room, and hundreds of systems come to life; projections, holograms, you name it.

I push my hand through a hologram of the Hex logo. It dawns (ha ha) on me.

“This is your room.”

“Yeah. So?”

“That’s...kinda weird.”

“Why?”

“Um...I’m your greatest enemy-”

He cuts me off. “Actually, i think my greatest enemy is the cashier at Tim Hortons who gave me a raspberry frozen lemonade instead of the original.”

“What’s Tim Hortons?”

He stares at me incredulously. “You know all those frozen lemonades I bring you every time we fight?”

He mentioned our...rivalry so casually. I find it hard to speak. “Yeah.”

“Those are from Tim Hortons.”

The answer doesn’t satisfy me, but I don't push.

He sits on his bed next to me. He smells like lemons.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

I’m not sure I heard him correctly. “You...and me...watching a movie? In your house?”

He shrugs. “With your wounds, you won’t be able to move on your own until tomorrow.”

I sit up suddenly, and regret it when a sharp stab of pain brings tears to my eyes. “Tomorrow?”

“Mmhm.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was.”

I slump backwards. J.P presses a button, and a TV rises out of a table. “What do you wanna watch?”

J.P and I are about 15 minutes into (insert disney movie here), when I decide to lean my head against his shoulder and wrap my outside arm around his torso. He stiffens as I touch him, but relaxes soon after.

“Holly,” J.P asked hesitantly. “Do you think that we...that our people...could ever live like this?” he motions to me and him, curled beside each other, watching a movie, bathed in a soft golden glow.

I tilt my head to look into his eyes. “Like...in peace?” I ask.

He nods.

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

He nods again, as if he expected that answer. We lie in silence for the rest of the movie, occasionally debating certain plot points, and screaming “Movie logic!” at the screen whenever something cliche happened (i.e: characters running (making an escape, usually), only to realize that the ground ends in a cliff, and the characters almost slip and fall, but don’t, and a few rocks tumble down the cliff).

When the movie ends, I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here with J.P and talk about whether it was realistic when (movie plot point insert).

But I can’t.

And he knows it.

He leaves me to sleep in his room, and turns out the lights before I can even say goodnight.

I blink in the darkness. J.P’s words are stuck in my head. My stubborn brain repeats them over, and over, even (and especially) when I scream at myself to stop.

Could we ever live in peace?

I had answered him truthfully, I think. I don’t know.

But my mind seemed to know what I wanted. I had always been an active daydreamer, after all. My dad said it was one of my best qualities.

It is your greatest strength, Holly. To see things that other people don’t. I can see his face, as he tucks my grown-out bangs out of my face. The memory was from years ago. I could smell the sea in his hair and on his skin, and heard his laugh when he picked me up and spun me around. Possibilities. Not everyone can find the dove in a sea of ravens. Hope and peace, in a world of death and destruction. You can. I know you can, my little sunrise.

I let myself imagine a perfect world. Where the Hex and Dawn work together, in peace. J.P and I would lead them, and we could go back home. To Xonar.

I fall asleep to dreams of doves and ravens.

tagging the tflc gang hope i’m not bothering you oop

@enbies-and-felonies @that-aro-asshat @clearlykeefitz @duchessmb @book-limerence @silver-snow @pencil-is-my-sword @alienlamp @cozy-the-overlord @ademonwithinternet @linhamon-roll

#i had to put all of the italics in after because they didn't transfer from docs #so there are probably some mistakes #xonar-verse #xonar-verse dawn #jollyyyy #holly x j.p #animal bite tw #tw animal bites

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brianc521 · 4 years

Text

Behind the Bar

Better Late Than Never | Part 2

It’s like time’s frozen around the two while they stare at each other behind the bar. Both in complete shock to be seeing the other.

“Hadley.” Jacob breathes out, blinking a few times to make sure he isn’t dreaming.

He takes a moment to study her features. Long gone is the girl who used to hide herself behind her hair. Long gone are the baggy clothes she used to hide her body. There’s no book in her hand, and he wonders if she’s breathing okay because of it. The thought has him grinning.

“Jacob Palmer.” She laughs, shaking her head. She shamelessly checks him out, eyes lingering on his arms for a beat too long. She admires the intricate torch tattooed on his left bicep, the handle etched with a ‘EKP’. Jacob flexes his arms, in hopes of some sort of reaction as he catches her staring, and it makes her blink quickly. She looks back up at him with flushed cheeks and a shy smile. “Never in a million years did I think I’d run into you.”

He laughs, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “I figured you’d skipped town after high school. Got away from all of us riff raff, went off and did bigger and better things.”

It’s after the words tumble out of his mouth does his brain register what he’s just said. Her whole face drops, something flashing through her eyes. It’s the same look she would have when someone gave her shit in high school for liking to read. It was a look he read easily. It was hurt, pain, embarrassment. That look doesn’t last long before she clears her throat. She pulls her shoulders back, standing a little taller. Her eyebrow raises at him in an unimpressed way, her cheeks red hot.

“Wow okay, let me take over this conversation before he sounds like even more of an ass.” Teri interrupts. “I was starting to think you two knowing each other was a good thing, now I’m rethinking who I have Hadley training with.” She eyes Jacob.

“No.” He blurts. “I’m sorry.” He reaches a soft hand out to Hadley. He touches her wrist, her eyes flicking to his touch and then back up to his face. “I didn’t mean it like that. I swear.” He desperately says, chest tightening in panic. “Wow, I’m a fucking idiot.” He mutters to himself, but both women hear, nodding right along with him. “What I meant was, I never thought I’d see you again. And I’m glad that I am.” He gives a small smile, thumb rubbing on the pulse point of her wrist.

It’s a soft touch, a welcome touch. Hadley can’t remember the last time she felt something like this.

“Right after high school was a bad time for me.” She says too quickly, gently taking her wrist from his hand. “But I’m doing bigger and better things now. I’m past the bad times.”

There’s a story there, and it’s got Jacob intrigued. He squints at her for a moment, trying to see if he can read it through her body language. He likes to think he’s always been a good judge of character, but he can’t read her. Something’s off, something is totally different than the Hadley he went to high school with. He just can’t quite tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“Okay, well, while I love the reunion, we kind of have a busy house tonight.” Teri brings both of their attention to herself. “So Stevens has been behind a bar before,” She explains to Jacob. “Just nothing to our caliber. Show her the ropes, teach her the drinks, explain the tab system. I pulled Hawkins,” She points to Chelsea, who’s making a drink. “From the floor to give you some backup while you train Stevens.”

Jacob nods, giving Teri a mock salute. “You got it Captain.” He grins, watching Teri roll her eyes and flip him off at the same time. “At ease soldier.” He teases.

“Stevens.” She looks to Hadley. “By mid shift I want you on your own. I know you’ll need some more training, but we don’t have time for Jacob to hold your hand all night.” She shrugs. “He’s my best bartender, which is why I let him run it back here, and we’ve got 2 bachelor parties coming in. Also, the college down the road let out on spring break, so expect a lot of frat boys.” She points to both of them. “I want all ID’s checked at the bar, you hear me?”

Hadley nods, and Jacob gives another sarcastic salute.

“Boy you’re gonna lose your job tonight.” Teri warns him.

“Oh come on Ter, I almost lose my job every night. You just love me too much to let me go.” He winks.

“Last but not least,” Teri ignores Jacob, turning back to Hadley. “If you have any trouble you tell Palmer immediately. You got me?”

Jacob nods, turning to face Hadley. “Hads.” He says softly, gently touching her shoulder to catch her attention. Her big brown eyes flick up to his stubbly face, holding all the innocence she’s always had. “If someone looks at you funny, says something that makes your skin crawl, anything that makes you feel unsafe you scream my name like it’s the last word you’ll ever be able to say. I’m not joking, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods, at both Jacob and Teri. “I got it.” She assures them, although in the back of her head she can’t help but think that no one can be worse than Brody. No one can make her feel the way Brody did. The thought of his name alone makes her want to claw out of her skin and burn it.

Teri nods at them. Turning on her heels and walking off without another word. She’s off to check in on all the girls working the floor. Making sure patrons are keeping their hands to themselves, respecting her staff. Who needs more than one bouncer when you have Teri running the show.

“Here,” Jacob hands Hadley a spare apron from the hook behind the bar. “It’s nice to keep like a pen, notepad, straws and shit like that on hand. Usually on slow nights I hide my phone in there too, that way if I need to be reached I can be.”

Hadley watches him intently while tying the apron around her waist. She follows him as he quickly goes up to the bar.

“Hey man,” He greets a customer. “How are you?”

“Jake!” The customer cheers. He looks dirty, long hair that’s going gray. He’s skinny, unnaturally skinny. He’s wearing a black Motley Crue shirt, it’s tucking into his skinny jeans. “I was hoping you were working tonight.”

“Ryan, this is Hadley.” Jacob introduces her. “She’s a new tender,” He explains, slapping Ryan’s outstretched hand away. “Be nice.” He warns. He then turns to Hadley. “This is Ryan, our biggest regular. He doesn’t bite, unless you ask.”

Ryan sends a flirty wink to Hadley, one side of his mouth lifting into a grin, showing off his yellow teeth.

“Do I wanna know how you know that?” She asks Jacob, eyes bouncing back and forth between them.

Ryan barks out a laugh, hand coming down to slap at the top of the counter. “That was good. She’ll survive here, seems like she keeps on her toes.” He states, pointing at her but looking at Jacob.

“Well,” Hadley pushes in front of Jacob, pushing a black cocktail napkin on the countertop. “You can speak to me like I’m right here, because I am.” She points to herself. “Unless you’re three shots in, then there might be three of me. You seem like a lightweight.”

Ryan stands straight, both hands settling on the countertop as he glares at her. Jacob stands behind her, trying to hold back his laugh. “Whiskey sour.” He orders.

“Okay.” She smiles, getting to work on his drink. “So you’re the biggest regular? What’s that mean?”

“Well when the doors open? I’m the first in. When they close at night? I’m the last out.” He grins, arms crossing against his chest like that’s the highest you can get in life.

“Oh,” She nods. “Gotcha, well in that case I think I’m gonna call you Gallagher.” She puts the glass on the napkin, sliding it over to him.

“Gallagher?” Ryan asks.

“As in Frank Gallagher.” She explains. “From Shameless.” Nodding to her hand that’s held out for his payment.

“Put it on my tab.” He points with his chin.

“Give me something to start a tab with.” She raises an eyebrow at him.

Ryan grumbles, digging into his back pocket and slapping his debit card into her hand.

“Thanks Gallagher, enjoy your drink.” She smiles, turning around and running smack into Jacob. “Oh shit, sorry.” She looks up at him. “I forgot you were there.” She blurts.

“Do I even need to train you?” He asks, a smile bright on his face. He’s highly impressed with the way she handled Ryan. He can get lippy, and try to get away with claiming he’s already paid.

“I mean,” She shrugs. “I worked at a bar straight out of high school. Needed something to pay the bills. It’s been a few years since I’ve been behind the bar but it’s like riding a bike. Skills never go away, all customers are the same.”

“Okay, well then, do your thing. If you need anything just holler.” He nods, turning to get started with the group of guys that just crowded the right corner.

By the time the bar is closed Hadley has created a spot for herself behind the bar. They had a few learning curves for working around each other but by the middle of the shift Teri was able to put Chelsea back on the floor. It was like they’d been partners working together for years. It just flowed, they understood the others' notes on things, they didn’t argue or have issues helping the others customers.

Personally, that’s where the awkwardness comes in. They didn’t talk at all during the night. There was never a down moment to talk. So it makes the two of them alone in the back break area very quiet. The tension is thick, and Jacob can’t stop looking at her, and she can’t stop trying to avoid his stare.

“So,” Jacob speaks up, leaning his back against the lockers. “Did you just move back?”

“Um yeah.” She answers, pulling her hoodie over her head. “I moved to Washington with my boyfriend,” She stops herself. “Well now ex boyfriend. He got accepted to Washington State, and I planned on going to a community college.”

He perks up, loving how easily she opens up to him. “What’d you study?” He asks, turning to grab his phone and wallet.

“That’s just the thing,” She grimaces, “He went to school, we got an apartment, but with his full work course who was gonna bring home money to pay the bills? So I got a job, told him I’d start school later, except later never came.” She brushes over her past quickly.

Jacob can tell there’s a more in-depth story there. That there’s more in the dark parts that she won’t shine light too.

“What happened?” He asks, following her to the front of the bar where Teri was finishing closing up.

She laughs in a self depreciating way. “It’s a long story Jacob, it’s okay.” She waves him off.

“I’d like to-” He starts, being interrupted.

“Make sure you have your tips everyone! Let’s go.” Teri calls out.

They all crowd the door, waiting for Teri to unlock it. Everyone shuffles out, soft mumbles floating through the quiet calm of the night outside. Jacob stays behind, waiting for Teri to lock back up.

“Make sure you get some good groceries okay? I saw the way those sorority girls were tipping you. Make sure you get fruit loops, she’s been going crazy for them lately.” Teri says over her shoulder.

They walk together to their cars. Jacob always makes sure to park next to Teri, that way he can ensure she gets to her vehicle safely. He’s about to duck into his car when he catches a glimpse of Hadley walking down the sidewalk.

She's holding tightly to her bag that’s slung across her shoulder. Body huddled in on itself as a way to fight off the cold of the night.

“Hads!” He calls out, watching her jump and then look over at him. He didn’t mean to scare her, but if it got her attention he’d do it again. “The fuck are you doing?” He asks.

“Going home?” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder, pointing in the direction she was walking.

“On foot?” He questions, receiving a nod. “At 2:30 in the morning?” Another nod. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

“How else would you like me to get home?” She asks, throwing her arms out to her sides.

“Get in.” He tilts his head towards his car.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” She shakes her head, silently hoping he’ll leave her be.

“You aren’t asking, I’m telling you to get in my fucking car. I’m not letting you walk home at 2:30 in the morning alone.”

She sighs, weighing her options. Does she let Jacob take her home, allowing him to find out she lives in her mother's old trailer? The trailer that housed her most of her high school days? The trailer that her mother so graciously left her when she went on a bender that ended up killing her?

Or does she walk home and risk that someone else finds her and forces her a ride to god knows where?

One option is better than the other. The better option leaves her embarrassed and wishing she’ll never see Jacob again. The other leaves her dead in a ditch somewhere. With that revelation she makes her way over to his Camry. He smiles when she starts walking towards him, and it’s a smile that makes her stomach fill with butterflies. The same way it did when she was in high school.

He quickly gets in, leaning over to the passenger seat and opens the door from the inside. He grins sheepishly when she slides into the seat.

“Sorry.” He breathes out. “The handles broken from the outside.”

She laughs, and shakes her head. “What happened to the Jacob Palmer who rode his Harley to school everyday?” She asks, looking over at him.

“Life happens.” He shrugs, cranking his key three times before he can get the engine to turn over.

She eyes him suspiciously, seeing how much he’s aged since they graduated. He’s got a story behind his tired eyes, and worry caused wrinkles. It’s a story she wants to hear, and she’s 100 percent sure it’s a story she would have never guessed would be his to tell.

“So,” He turns to look at her once the windshield is defrosted enough to see through. “Where to?” His devilish smirk on his handsome face as her thinking maybe she should have gone with the other option.

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