#but i was just able to like... very subtly hear ryan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

corroded-hellfire · 6 months

Text

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 7

A collaboration with my partner in crime @munson-blurbs

Summary: Now that the boys know you and Eddie are together, this should make life easier. Right? Unfortunately, there's still Brittany and the court case to deal with. Not to mention, the age gap now bringing some complications to light.

Note: I will never ever get over the lovely things you all say to me about this series. Some comments make me laugh, some make me cry, but every single one of them means the world to me. I can never thank you enough for reading this series.

Warnings: smut, oral, m!receiving, age gap, older!eddie, dad!eddie, breeding kink, Brittany should just come with her own warning at this point

Words: 7.6k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Gray. Gray everywhere: the clouds roll in, dark and stormy, threatening rain. The overcast weather cloaks the atmosphere in dullness, as though it could sense your mood as you and Eddie head towards Brittany’s house—the same one they used to share.

Ryan and Luke are playing at the Harrington’s house; Steve promised to drop them back home in time for bed, though you imagine it’ll be later than that, given his pushover nature. Just a little pout and a pleading, “five more minutes, Uncle Steve?” is all it takes.

Their temporary absence gives you and Eddie the rare opportunity to speak to Brittany alone; something you typically avoid, but you need to have this conversation sooner rather than later.

Eddie debates whether or not he should knock on the door. It was still technically his home by law, though he certainly doesn’t feel like he belongs here. He decides to let himself in, announcing that you’re both present.

“Hello? Brittany? It’s me. Well, it’s us,” he amends, clearing his throat.

Brittany comes down the hallway from the bedroom and it’s the most unkempt you’ve ever seen her. Her usually flawless blonde hair is pulled up into a frizzy, messy bun on the top of her head, and you swear you’ve never seen the woman in a pair of sweatpants before this moment.

As soon as she sees you, she groans and crosses her arms over her chest. “You can’t just send the boys in?” she asks, an inevitable eye roll gracing her annoyingly pretty face.

“The boys aren’t with us,” Eddie says as the two of you fully step inside the house and you close the door behind you.

“Excuse me?” Brittany just stares at the two of you, the look completely blank, not even any confusion behind those dead eyes. Complete indifference.

Eddie sighs, relaying the explanation. “Steve’s going to be dropping them off later,” he says. He subtly nods for you to follow him more inside the house and away from the door. “We need to talk to you. While they’re not here.”

“Why?” Now the venom is back in her scowl, her lip practically quivering and threatening to turn into a snarl. There’s the Brittany you know.

“Just…” Eddie sighs and runs a hand over the top of his head. “Just come sit down.”

You follow Eddie into the kitchen, as does Brittany, no matter how unwittingly it was. The three of you sit at the table and it’s silent; no one knows what to say or wants to be the one to break the tension.

Leave it to Brittany to be the one to speak first, and though you’re less than thrilled to hear her voice, a very small part of you is glad that someone says something.

“Are you going to tell me why I’m sitting here with you and your tramp? Or are we gonna fucking play charades?”

As Eddie’s hands clench into fists on top of the table, you realize Brittany hasn’t looked at you once since you stepped inside. It brings you an odd air of satisfaction and smugness.

Eddie, meanwhile, is fuming at the derogatory term she used on you, and you can tell he’s about to rip his estranged wife a new one, but you’re able to calm him down by taking one of his fists in both of your hands and massaging it and uncurling his fingers until his tension starts to melt. You’re tempted to press a kiss to the back of it, but you both came here for a reason and now that conversation must be had.

“So, uh,” Eddie pauses to clear his throat, “we just wanted to give you a heads up because the boys already know and they’re not exactly tight lipped. Nor should they feel like they have to hide anything from anyone—especially a parent.” He almost said “especially a mom” but he and the boys know she’s never been much of one to begin with.

Brittany’s eyes finally land on you as her gaze flits back and forth between you and your boyfriend.

“What?” She demands. “What’re you giving me a heads up about?”

“Well,” Eddie says, linking his fingers with yours with the hand that you soothed for him. “We’re together. Like, officially. The boys know and they’re pretty over the moon about it.” Eddie didn’t need to add that bit, but he enjoyed saying it nonetheless. Maybe it’s petty, but he wants to show off how happy he is.

Brittany’s arms drop to the table as if they’re suddenly dead weight. “What the fuck, Eddie?” Her gaze is now solely on him again. “The boys know you’re fucking their babysitter?”

“Jesus Christ, Brittany,” Eddie groans, closing his eyes for a moment as he massages his furrowed brow. “No, the boys know that we have feelings for one another and are going out on dates.”

“Are they even old enough to understand that?” Brittany snaps.

“You just asked if we told them that we were fucking,” you say, piping up for the first time in this conversation. “But them knowing we have feelings for each other is too hard for them to comprehend? They’re not babies anymore.”

The glare Brittany gives you could rival that of Medusa.

“Sorry if you missed the fact that they’ve grown up because you were too busy fucking half the town,” Eddie retorts before he can stop himself.

“You can shut your mouth. You’re not their parent,” Brittany says, pointing a freshly manicured finger at you before turning it on Eddie. “And you can eat shit.”

Eddie sees the opportunity presented to him on a silver platter and he knows he has to take it. “It would still taste better than kissing you.”

Heat rises to your face at his words and Brittany looks like she’s about to hurl a chair at him. Eddie just laughs and leans back in his seat. He wraps his arm around the back of yours and you lean in towards his body.

“Is that all you’re here for?” Brittany asks through gritted teeth. “Because you’re free to fucking leave any time you’d like. You know where the door is.”

Eddie looks at you and nods his head. “I think we’re good to go. Ready, babe?”

“Ready,” you affirm, always eager to be out of Brittany’s presence. It’s the same satisfaction you’d get taking a shower after you’ve been covered in caked up mud and dirt.

Brittany doesn’t bother saying anything as she stands up and storms down the hallway. You and Eddie can’t help but share an amused look and a chuckle as you stand up. There had been so many times back when you were just the babysitter that Brittany would say or do something and you’d just want to look at Eddie like, is this bitch for real? Now you know that all along Eddie wanted that too, and now you’re both on the outside looking in at this angry and pathetic woman who’s more trouble than what she’s worth.

As you’re approaching the front door, an annoyed and frustrated groan emanates from the back of the house. Sucks to be you, you think as your hand twists the doorknob. You don’t think there’s ever been a day in your life that you’ve felt sympathy for that woman, and you don’t intend to start any time soon.

“That went better than expected.”

“Better?” you gawp, still reeling from the barrage of insults hurled your way. Nothing less than what you’d expect of her, but still…damn.

Eddie shrugs. “She didn’t cut my dick off, so…yeah.” His eyes soften when he takes in your rigidity. “Baby, are you…she didn’t upset you, did she?”

“I know it’s stupid—” you start with a sigh, but Eddie cuts you off gently.

“It’s not stupid. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a hug as you stand under the yellow porch light shining as best it can in the dreary evening around you. “I love you. My boys love you. And nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

You don’t fully believe him—which part, you’re not sure, but his promise is enough for now. “Okay.”

You would think it’s the first time you’re looking after kids ever with the way the butterflies are surging through your bloodstream. They left your stomach when you kissed Eddie goodbye this morning and now they’ve hitched a ride to every other part of your body.

Danny and Amelia have been great all day. Amelia is not a fussy baby, though she does want to be held most of the time. And Danny is a very helpful little boy, always showing you where the different things you might need are: extra diapers, toilet paper, batteries for the television remote, snacks, and even where his dad keeps an old baseball bat with nails hammered into it in the garage.

“N’case someone wanna break in,” Danny informed you, as if this bat a state-of-the-art alarm system.

Both kids drift off on the way to pick the older gremlins up from school. It’s just as well since you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on a thing they’d say anyway. Your thumbs beat out an erratic rhythm on the beige leather steering wheel in the Harrington family’s van—left in your care so that you’re able to transport all six kids at once. You’re more jittery than normal, jumping at every horn that’s blared or siren that’s sounded on the short drive down to the elementary school.

Right before you’d left to snag the four older children, Eddie had called you from work. He had been notified of when his first court appearance for the custody case would have to be. Ever since the phone call you’ve been on edge, the idea of Eddie having to make a case that he deserves to have the kids when anyone with half a brain already knows that he should have them full time. The words “court date” just keep replaying on a loop in your brain over and over again.

You’re only waiting in the Hawkins Elementary School pick-up line for ten minutes before the kids all clamor in the van, loud as all hell as they continue whatever conversation it was they were having on the way to the vehicle. They all buckle themselves in and say hi to Amelia and Danny, who are excited to see them now that the ruckus has woken them.

“Everyone all buckled in?” you ask.

“Yeah!” a chorus of children respond.

“All right, here we go.”

When you get back to the Harrington house, it’s time for Amelia to take a nap. You carry the sleepy girl on one hip while you lay out apple slices and pretzels for the older kids on the dining room table. It doesn’t take long for the crunching and chomping to reach your ears as you head down the hall to Amelia’s room.

Once the kids are done eating, it’s time for them to do their homework. They sit at the dining room table all together, after only minimal push back, visible from where you sit on the couch with Danny. You’re hardly paying attention to some new cartoon about a sponge who lives in a pineapple that Danny is watching. Stupid, you think to yourself. This show will never last.

The first one to finish their homework is Natalie, who moseys on over to sit next to you on the arm of the couch. She has shiny light brown hair that looks like it could give Steve’s a run for his money someday, and wide blue eyes just like her mother. The soft-spoken little girl looks like she wants to say something to you but isn’t sure how.

“How was school, Natalie?” you ask, deciding to try and break the ice for her.

“Was good,” she says. She balances on the arm of the couch and pulls the hem of her skirt over her knees, almost like a nervous habit. Only then do you realize she’s only met you those few times for brief play dates and doesn’t really know you.

“I saw when I walked past your room before that you have a PowerPuff Girls poster,” you say. “You like them?”

“Yes!” her face lights up at the question. “Blossom is my favorite.”

“I like the pink one. With the red hair,” you tell her. “What’s her name?”

“That’s Blossom,” Natalie tells you with a giggle.

“Oh, silly me,” you say, scrunching up your nose.

Apparently, this was enough for Natalie to feel like she could open up and talk to you more. You’re glad; you want her to be comfortable with you.

“Ryan told me that you’re his daddy’s girlfriend.”

It’s the last thing you expected her to say, and you almost choke on your own saliva.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I am.” Your face feels warm, and you wonder if the young girl notices at all.

“You love Uncle Eddie?” she asks, eyes shining as if she’s expecting an epic romantic tale.

“I do,” you tell her, a grin lighting up your own face.

“Ryan’s my boyfriend,” she tells you matter-of-factly.

You remember the way Ryan gets quiet and shy around Natalie or even when she’s simply mentioned. The feeling is decidedly mutual it seems.

“Does Ryan know this?” you ask.

Natalie shrugs, seeming unbothered. “If he doesn’t, he will.”

You can’t help but admire the young girl’s confidence.

“Does Uncle Eddie know he’s your boyfriend?” she asks.

“Yes,” you tell her, letting out a small giggle. I may have had my fantasies for a while there, but this time it’s real.

“Are you gonna get married?”

The unexpected question has your eyes bugging out and your throat going dry. “Okay, that’s enough questions,” you sputter, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “Let’s get some homework done.”

“I am done,” she tells you.

“Then, uh, why don’t we see if any of the boys need some help.”

You breathe a sigh of relief when she skips off to check on Ryan, Luke, and Theo. Talks of marriage must wait another day.

You’re reheating some chicken cutlets on the stove when the doorbell rings, almost silenced by the sounds of oil popping and six children playing nearby in the family room.

It’s a bit early for Nancy or Steve to get home, and they wouldn’t ring the bell, so you have no idea who it could be. It sets you on-edge, especially knowing how many kids you now have to protect.

Hugging a sleeping Mia to your chest, you look through the peephole to see none other than Edward Munson standing on the stoop.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, your excitement quickly turning to frustration when you notice the boxes in his hands. “Is that…?”

Eddie’s too busy short-circuiting at the sight of you holding Mia to pick up on your ire. She looks so perfect holding a baby.

While you’re distracted, Danny and Luke run up to the door. “Uncl’ Eddie brought pizza! Yes!” Danny shouts, and the whole crew erupts into cheers.

“Eddie,” you hiss, trying not to wake Mia, lest you have another child to chase after, “Nancy told me to give them leftovers for dinner.”

“They can have them another time,” Eddie shrugs, “no big deal.”

You shake your head. “Yes, it is,” you insist. “I was given specific instructions to follow, and I’m not about to mess it up on day one.”

Eddie puts the pizza down on the table and rests his hands on your shoulders. “Look at me, okay? It’s just pizza. I’ve known the Harringtons since before they were the Harringtons, and they’re not gonna get mad over this. And if they do, I’ll take full responsibility.”

A tiny smile tugs at your lips despite the anxiety bubbling in your stomach. “You better.”

“Scout’s honor.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and there is a mixture of “aww” and gagging noises coming from the children. “I love you,” he says loud enough for only you to hear.

“You talking to me or Mia?” you ask, giving him a smirk as you cock an eyebrow.

Eddie chuckles and looks down at the sleeping little girl again. Her small back gently rises and falls beneath your hand, the bottom of her dark red downy hair brushing your skin. “Talking to my favorite girl,” he says as he looks back up at you, brown eyes gleaming. “But Little Miss Mia knows how much I love her, too.”

As everyone is finishing up dinner—Mia now happily sitting in the lap of her favorite uncle—the front door opens and both Steve and Nancy step inside.

“Mommy!” Danny calls, already out of his chair and running towards his mom at full speed.

Nancy huffs a laugh and manages to catch him before he can either knock her over or accidentally speed right past her and crash headfirst into a wall.

“Hey,” Steve pouts, resting his hands on his hips. “Mommy’s been going to work every day. Who usually stays home with you? Me! Did you miss me?”

Danny just giggles and hides his face in Nancy’s shirt, having chosen a favorite parent for the evening.

“Hi, Daddy!” Theo calls from the table, waving a tomato-sauce-covered hand high above his head.

“Looks like we missed a pizza party,” Steve says as he walks over to the table. He raises his eyebrows and immediately turns his gaze to Eddie.

You’re slightly nervous that Steve is going to be upset about the pizza and you start to fidget with your hands under the table, already thinking of a way to keep him from getting too angry.

Before you can muster up an explanation, Eddie takes one hand off of Mia and grabs your trembling one to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Stashed the extra pie in my truck so the rugrats didn’t try to sneak a slice,” Eddie tells him with a grin.

“This is why we’re best friends—oh shi-…I mean, sugar. Did I just admit to that out loud?” Steve muses as he turns away from the table to head out to Eddie’s truck.

“Too late,” Eddie calls after him. “It’s already been written down by the stenographer.”

Luke leans in towards you. “What’s a sornographer?” he asks, mouth surrounded by a tomato sauce goatee.

You press your lips together to keep from laughing at his mispronunciation.

“Someone who types all the words people are saying.”

Luke’s eyes widen and he frantically looks around the dining room in search of the mysterious ‘sornographer’. “Where are they?”

This time you can’t hold the giggle in. “Noooo, not here, Luke. Like, in court. With a judge and lawyers and stuff.”

Natalie wipes her hands and face off on a napkin before skipping over to her mother. “Mommy!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around her.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Nancy gives her a big hug. “How was your day?”

“So good! At school we watched a video with this cute little doggy who was being Sherlock Holmes, and then we came home and had the best time!”

Natalie’s enthusiasm about the time you spent with her this afternoon warms your heart and has the pressure of tears building behind your eyes. She leans into her mom and whispers so no one else can hear, but judging by the way her eyes flit over to Ryan before sliding over to Eddie, you assume she’s telling Nancy about your discussion about boys earlier.

“You’re a silly girl,” Nancy laughs, pressing a kiss to her eldest daughter’s temple.

When Natalie bounds back over to her siblings and friends, you take the opportunity to shyly make your way over to Nancy’s side.

“I’m, um, sorry about the pizza. I know you said to use the—”

Nancy cuts you off with an understanding shake of her head. “Don’t worry about it; I already figured that Beavis or Butthead brought it home.”

“Who’s who?”

She sighs. “I honestly couldn’t tell you.”

Usually, the routine would be for you to leave the Harrington’s with Ryan and Luke, then take them to whichever parent they’re staying with at the time. But, one, Eddie isn’t in his new apartment yet, and two, Eddie was at the Harrington’s as well tonight, so it becomes a group activity to bring the boys to Brittany’s.

The boys insist on being with you in your car on the ride over, which brings a smile to your face that warms Eddie’s heart. As much as he’d love to spend every available moment with them, having them want to be with you was a very close second.

When you park in front of the familiar one-story house, both boys take turns leaning into the front seat to give you hugs that are so tight you’re wondering when they got so strong.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, guys!” you call through your open car window.

“Bye!” Ryan says, throwing you a wave as he hikes his backpack up.

“Love you!” Luke calls back and it just about stops your heart. You’ve always known that the boys care about you and even adore you, but love? Tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you hope the light from the full moon outside is casting a shadow over your car so you can dab at your eyes with some privacy.

Eddie gets out of his truck and walks over the cracked sidewalk to meet the boys in front of the house. Luke takes Eddie’s hand and even in the darkness of the evening you can see Eddie smile at his youngest. Before they can get to the door, it swings open and reveals Brittany waiting there, arms crossed over a fuzzy white sweater. Her piercing eyes land on the boys, move to Eddie, dart to you sitting in your car, back to the boys, and finally land on Eddie again.

“You don’t have to walk them to the door, you know,” she snaps at her estranged husband immediately, not even taking a moment to acknowledge the kids. “You can stay in the car with your homewrecker.”

Eddie is fuming but he won’t show it in front of the boys. Every little insult she throws your way takes a little chink out of his armor and he’s not sure what he’ll do when that armor eventually leaves him exposed.

Instead, Eddie gets down on one knee on the uneven cobblestone path in front of the door so he can give each of his sons a big bear hug goodbye, silently praying what their mother just said goes over their heads.

“I’ll see you guys soon, okay?” Eddie says, shards of his heart being crushed into dust as the moment he has to leave them here with her approaches.

“I’ll miss you,” Luke says, reaching up and gently running his fingers tips over Eddie’s stubble that’s longer than usual. The way Luke studies his father’s face is almost like he’s committing the smallest details to memory. You wouldn’t be surprised if it’s so the boy could find ways to try and look like Eddie even more than he already does.

“I’ll miss you too, bud,” Eddie says, his glass heart completely shattered now. “But soon I’ll have my apartment and we’ll have all the time in the world to hang out.”

“I love you, Daddy,” Ryan says, a sad smile on his face. Ryan has an easier time understanding the dynamics of what’s going on with the divorce and all, and he’s come to realize that his dad doesn’t want to leave him just as much as Ryan doesn’t want him to go.

“I love you, too. Both of you,” Eddie says as he ruffles up both boys’ hair. He stands up and presses a kiss to the top of both of their heads.

“See ya soon, you funky raccoon,” Eddie says, coming up with the ridiculous rhyme on the spot.

It gets the intended response though, as Luke busts out into giggles and replies, “see ya soon, smelly baboon.”

Eddie gently boops Ryan’s nose before he gives them one last smile and heads back down the walkway. He shoots you a small smile as well, that you acknowledge with a little wave. You wish you were both driving in the same car right now. You’d be able to hold his hand and assure him that everything is going to be alright. Deep down, Eddie knows; it’s just nice to be reminded sometimes.

Eddie climbs back in the truck and starts the engine. Once he pulls out onto the road, you follow behind him and make the drive back to your apartment.

As soon as you get to your place, you and Eddie are all over each other. There was barely any preamble as the pair of you got out of your vehicles and met each other at the entrance. A breathy “hi” barely made it out of your mouth before Eddie’s hands were on your hips and his lips were attacking your neck with fervor as you tried to buzz the two of you into your building.

Mere steps from of the staircase, he starts peeling your jacket off your shoulders while you’re still in the hallway.

“Impatient much?” you tease, going in for another kiss and biting his lip purposefully.

“You tell me.” He guides your hand to where his erection strains against his jeans. Without warning, you give a particularly hard rub over his aching cock, just to hear the satisfying hiss that comes from his lips.

You can’t open the door fast enough; luckily, Jess isn’t home to make a sarcastic comment as you pull him into your room and push him onto your bed.

“All mine,” you murmur as you suck on the skin along his collarbone. He tugs on your thighs to pull you up more, so your pussy is on top of his groin. As you continue to grind on him, you feel him softening beneath you. You frown, but try to hide it by ducking your head.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.

“Nope, all good,” he lies through his teeth. Not well either, but you don’t want to press the issue.

You try to push past it, but he can’t deny that there’s an issue when you unbutton his pants and pull down the waistband to reveal his flaccid penis.

“Eds,” you frown, ignoring the shame overtaking you. You’re on top of your boyfriend and he couldn’t be softer if he tried. You make a mental list of everything you hate about your body before asking, “What’s going on?”

He sucks in a harsh breath. “Christ, I…it’s her, okay?” You don’t have to guess who he’s referring to. “All I wanna do is focus on you, but she makes me so damn mad.”

“S’okay,” you keep your voice soft and kiss just below his earlobe. “We can talk about it later, if you want.” He nods, and you continue, “for now, let me help you relax.”

You slide down until your knees make contact with the thin pink rug you have to cushion you from the hardwood floor beneath. Eager lips trail down the sparse patch of hair on his chest, to his tummy, and down to his cock. “Do you think I didn’t notice the way your eyes nearly popped out of your head when you saw me holding Baby Mia?” You giggle when he freezes up. “Tell me, Eds; what were you thinking about?”

“Was thinkin’,” he swallows thickly, “about our baby.”

“Mm, so just me holding our baby? That’s what got you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head. “N-No, a-also…also thought about getting you pregnant, watching you grow our child…” His dick twitches slightly; you lift it and lick up the underside of his shaft. A seed of pride plants itself in your chest at knowing just what to say to get him feeling excited.

“Keep telling me what you thought about while I make you feel good.” You bring one ball into your mouth and suck lightly, already feeling his length starting to stiffen once more. “Don’t be shy.”

He breathes out slowly. “I want to fill you up every goddamn day and night until it takes, oh, fuck.” His concentration fades in and out as you suck on the head of his cock. “And once I knock you up, you know damn well I won’t be able to keep my hands offa you.”

You hum your acknowledgment, sending vibrations from tip to base.

“Sh-Shit, thinkin’ ‘bout you pregnant and bouncin’ on my cock. Gonna be so perfect.”

Avoiding the temptation to touch yourself, you put one hand on each of his ass cheeks and grab at the flesh, opening your throat to take him deeper. This is all about him right now.

“Gonna keep you pregnant forever. I’ll marry you first, though. Promise.” Heat creeps into your face; he catches the soft smile dancing on your lips before you collect yourself and continue pleasuring him. “You like that? Gonna be my cute little pregnant housewife?”

Your thighs clench together involuntarily, and you quicken your pace. “Fu-uck, baby doll. ‘M close.”

You suck harder, deeper, your nose grazing his pubic hair. Saliva drips down your chin but you can’t be bothered to wipe it away.

“Look at me while I fuck your pretty face,” he orders, and you peer upwards into his lust-blown eyes. “Good girl.”

You cup his balls with one hand and his knees weaken, a string of swears passing his lips as his release coats your tongue and slides down your throat.

He holds out a slightly trembling hand and helps you up off the floor.

“You’re a fuckin’ dream come true.”

A giggle bubbles out of you as he tugs you onto the bed with him and you land on top of his chest.

“I could say the same about you, Mr. Munson.” The slight movement from Eddie’s spent dick beneath you brings a satisfied smirk to your face.

“Jesus, the way you say that drives me crazy,” Eddie admits, still trying to catch his breath.

“I noticed,” you say with a wink.

After both of you have showered, the two of you go into the kitchen looking for a late night snack. The folder Eddie has been keeping all of the documents related to the divorce and custody in is on the table, an unwanted reminder that you’d hadn’t gotten a chance to really discuss it today beyond that brief phone call.

“So, uh,” you say, breaking the ice as you pull a bag of Cheetos from the pantry, “your first court date is set?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a sigh. He slides down into a chair at the kitchen table and you take the one opposite him. “Monday, March 29th.”

He doesn’t offer more information, so you have to do the digging. You hate having to draw information from him like this; you wish he would open up easier. “Did you, o-or rather, did your lawyer tell you what to expect?”

“I’m supposed to have some sort of plan of what I want for the kids,” he shrugs, though his fidgeting fingers tell you that he’s more concerned than he’s letting on. “Like, how I want full custody. But I’m not opposed to Brittany getting visitation rights. I think the judge just kind of wants to hear what both her and I have to say.”

“I imagine she’s going to have a very different plan than you prepared,” you say with a grimace.

Eddie huffs a humorless laugh and rests his head on his propped up fist. “She’ll go for the throat. Use any mistakes I’ve made or bad days I’ve had over the years as an excuse for why they shouldn’t be with me.”

“She’s going to make it brutal,” you say more to yourself than to Eddie. “But I’ll be right by your side the whole time, okay?” You start to reach for his hand, frowning when he looks away. “What?” Did I say something that upset him? Am I handling this right?

“Maybe,” he breathes, carefully considering his words, “maybe you can stay here with the boys?”

His rejection smarts like a slap across the face. He doesn’t want you there. But why?

The obvious answer stares you down: you’re the other woman. The young babysitter who seduced a married man and destroyed his otherwise impeccable relationship, as Brittany will likely paint it.

Shame seeps from your pores; you will yourself to ask him the question burning on your tongue: “Did I do something wrong?”

Eddie can feel his heart break with each word. “Did you—no, it’s just, y’know, don’t want too many cooks in the kitchen.” He inwardly winces at his pathetic excuse, not wanting you to know the truth.

“Right, yeah.” But nothing about this is right; you’re partners—or, at least, you’re supposed to be. If you were in his position, you would love to have him by your side, supporting you. Clearly, he doesn’t feel the same way.

He’s going through a lot, you try and reason with yourself. Maybe a change to a happier subject will lighten the mood. There’s plenty of time before the hearing anyway.

“So, um, my birthday is in a few days.” You lower your voice to a sultry tone, trailing your bare foot up his leg beneath the table. “My friends wanted to take me out and get me wasted for the big 2-1, but I was thinking we should spend it together…in bed…clothing optional?”

Eddie stands up and kisses you, and you think he’s going to accept your offer, but he shakes his head. “Nah, babe. You should go out with your friends. Enjoy your time with them, ya know?”

His head swims with of all of the instances where he’d begged Brittany for cozy nights together when she had wanted to go out with her girlfriends. He doesn’t want you to resent him the way she did.

You’re so young; at your age, he’d go out with his friends, drinking and partying. Is he tying you down? A relationship with a man going through a divorce and who has two kids? At 21 years old? The least he can do is encourage you to have that wild 21st birthday with your friends that you deserve.

“Okay, um, do you wanna come with me? I’d love for you to meet my friends,” you try again, desperate to crack the shell he’s built around himself. You stand and pad closer to him.

Eddie puts his finger under your chin. “Go with your friends, baby. I’ll be around to pick you up if you need a designated driver.”

Tears embarrassingly blur your vision. “Did I do something, Eddie?”

“No, why?” He leans on the countertop, chewing a Cheeto thoughtfully.

“Because…because you don’t want me at the hearing, and you don’t want to celebrate my birthday with me. And if I did something to upset you, I want to fix it.”

He wipes the orange dust on a nearby towel and exhales impatiently. “Babe, I told you. The court stuff is just messy, and I want you to have time with your friends. Don’t read too much into it.”

His nonchalance irritates you. He doesn’t want you around, and he’s playing it off like it’s nothing.

“Jesus, sorry for trying to support you and for wanting to be around you,” you snap, your craving for snacks evaporating as you’re filled with anger. It’s better than the despair that’s threatening to replace it. “I guess I’ll just swing by whenever you need a quickie.”

Eddie winces at your vitriol. “Swing by whenever—what the hell are you talking about? This is more than just sex, we love each other, and you know it.”

You do know it, but you’re too worked up to care about logic. You grab his keys from the countertop. “Go home.” It’s not until the words come out of your mouth that you realize he doesn’t really have a home to go to. The consideration of taking them back flits through your head like a leaf caught in a wind tunnel.

He throws his arms up in the air, defeated. “C’mon, babe. Don’t be like this.”

“Be like what, Eddie? Upset that my boyfriend doesn’t want me around? Frustrated because it shouldn’t be fucking impossible go get you to open up to me? Humiliated because you were soft while I grinded on top of you?!”

“I told you,” he says through gritted teeth, “it was because of all of the shit with—”

“I know; all of the shit with Brittany. I got it.” You roll your eyes. “That’s why I offered to go to court with you, but you said no. So, I guess I’m good enough to use as a distraction, but not—”

“I’m not…I’m not using you. Jesus Christ.” Eddie rakes his hands through his curls. “You wanna be at the hearing with me? Listen to all of the terrible things my ex has to say about me? Be my guest.” His mind goes back to just yesterday at how you were bothered by Brittany’s hostility. It would only be increased tenfold when she’s putting on a performance for the judge.

You’re fuming, hurling words like hand grenades. “After everything we’ve gone through, do you really think I’d take what she says to heart? What, is she gonna complain that you cheated, when she’s screwing half the town?”

Your candor awakens a rage within him. “You know what?” he seethes. “I give up. I spent most of my marriage trying to make my wife spend time with me, and that didn’t work. Now, I’m trying to make sure you have a life outside of our relationship, and that doesn’t work either.”

“I can handle myself!” You bite back. “I know what’s best for me; I’m not a child.”

“Barely.”

The one icy word has tears burning behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them show—it’d only give his insult traction.

“Is that what you think this is, then?” you demand. “Poor, young girl just wants a big strong man to take care of her?”

Eddie looks like he’s about to tear out every last hair on his head. “No! Fuck, why do you keep twisting my words?”

“I have to try and find some meaning behind them when you won’t tell me what you’re really thinking!”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans, rubbing his hands down his face. “You want to know what I’m really thinking? I’m thinking that before this moment I didn’t see you as some whiny brat who’s going to scream and stomp her foot when she doesn’t get her way.”

“And now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

He sputters for a response. “Now I don’t know what to fucking think. You’re more mature than this—or so I thought. But it seems like now you’re having a goddamn tantrum.”

A tantrum. You’re trying to communicate how excluded you feel, and he reduces it to a tantrum. “I just don’t understand! Why don’t you want me with you?”

Eddie paces a few laps in front of you, his hands on his hips. “You want to know? You wanna know fucking why? Because I know the venom Brittany can spit when she’s not even trying to hurt someone. And when she puts her mind to it? The woman channels Satan himself.” He chuckles tersely, shaking his head as though he can’t believe he’s even entertaining this conversation. “I couldn’t give two shits what she says about me in that courtroom. But she’s going to be hurling her malice in your direction as well and there’s no way I can have you hearing that. She’s vicious and ruthless and I want to spare you from that. I don’t want you there with me that day, but it’s not because I don’t want you at my side, it’s because I want to shield you from that and her.”

The rational explanation should calm your anger, but it only fans the flames further.

“I get to make that decision for myself, Eddie. I am a grown ass woman and I get to decide what I can and cannot handle. You don’t get to make those choices for me and then call it protection. That’s not how this is going to work. And what about my fucking birthday, huh? Trying to ‘shield’ me from something there, too?”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to take a calming breath to steady himself—it doesn’t work all that well. “Sweetheart,” he starts, not missing the ice in your glare at his use of the pet name, “I just want you to go out and have a good time with your friends, okay? That’s all! It’s your 21st birthday, for Christ’s sake. You should be going from bar to bar with your friends, getting free shots and dancing and laughing the whole night. And you want to spend that night with me?” Eddie shakes his head incredulously. “We spend every night together right now.”

“But it’s not just an ordinary night,” you shoot back. “It’s my birthday and I should be allowed to say how I want to spend it.”

Eddie is steadily moving from anger to exasperation. He takes a step closer to you and lays his hands on your shoulders, making sure you’re looking at him.

“You are young. This is when you should be partying and drinking and all that shit with your friends.” He’s practically begging you to understand his perspective. “Not coming to some stuffy courtroom with a man who is going through a divorce and fighting for the custody of his kids.”

“But I choose this,” you say. “I choose you.” You jab your index finger into his chest. “I’m more than capable of making decisions for myself, Eddie. I don’t need you telling me what’s best for me. This is my life and I call the shots. And, for the love of God, can you please stop acting like you’re this ancient old man? I know I tease and call you old all the time but you’re thirty-fucking-two! You are young!”

“I just…” Eddie trails off with a sigh. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, though it’s still tinged with anger. “I just don’t want you to end up resenting me because you spent your early twenties being a shoulder for me to cry on when you should be exploring and enjoying life.”

“I am enjoying life, Eddie. With you!” you insist. “This is what I want. It’s my choice and you can’t take my autonomy away from me.”

“And I would never want to,” Eddie says, voice slightly calmer. “I’m just trying to do what I think is best because I love you. That’s all.”

You drum your fingers on the counter, mimicking a heartbeat. “You don’t get to determine that, Eddie.”

Eddie sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead. “You’re right.”

There’s a beat of silence before you say, “thank you.” Eddie simply nods in acknowledgment. “So, can I come to the courtroom?” you ask, the slightest bit of hope in your voice.

“I still don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” he admits with a sigh.

Heat rises in your body as your temper threatens to engulf you again. Not wanted, not needed. Disposable. Easily discarded.

“And…what about my birthday?” You should shut up, stop asking questions, but you’re desperate for closure.

Eddie sighs again. His eyes look anywhere but at you. “It’s your birthday. You make the call. I just…I wish you’d go out with your friends.”

“Would you come with me?”

“Princess,” Eddie says softly, and you already know his answer. “I’ll just be a downer. You don’t want me there.”

But you do. None of your words seem to break through that thick skull of his though. You were willing to compromise about going out as long as your boyfriend would come with you, but no. Eddie wants this to be an Eddie-less birthday for you for some reason.

“I think I should stay with the Harringtons for a bit,” he says finally, voice barely above a whisper. “I just…I need to think about things.”

Your bottom lip starts to tremble despite yourself. “Think about…us?”

“Yeah,” Eddie starts, backtracking immediately when he sees the panic in your eyes. “No, no, not like that.” He steps forward, as if to comfort you, but stops himself. “Just…about this.” Eddie gestures vaguely to the space around you. “I think we both need some time to calm down and think.”

You nod and wrap your arms around yourself. Part of you knows he’s right, but part of you wants him to stay here so you can work through it together. But it’s been a long day and it’s not the worst idea to have some time for yourself. “O-Okay,” you say in a shaky voice.

Eddie slips into your room and grabs the duffel bag he’s been living out of. “I’ll, uh, talk to you later,” Eddie says. Everything in him wants to lean in and kiss you—even just your cheek, but he restrains himself.

“Okay,” you repeat, unable to conjure up a more eloquent response.

Eddie picks his keys up off the counter and jingles them a few times between his fingers. He wants to speak but doesn’t know what there is to say, so he nods his head and walks out the front door.

You listen as his footsteps disappear down the hall and once you can no longer hear them, the first sob leaves your lips as you slide down to sit on the kitchen floor and just cry.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #AYW #AYWS

741 notes · View notes

mischas · 1 year

Note

Would love to hear your thoughts on that scene in 3.01 ("you're not alone this time"). I always find it very upsetting that M has to remind R she exists, he doesn't ask how she is... somehow her trauma and everything she has been through becomes about him? Also LOVE the wordless phone call. M is especially brilliant in that scene.

I hear you! This got insanely long, like much more than you were probably expecting...

So my thing about this scene is that it's a favorite, if not my very favorite, outside of the episode's context. 3x01 tells us, not all that subtly, that Ryan wants to speak to Trey. He wants him to wake up. And I don't think Ryan even knows what he wants to say. And maybe that's reasonable, but we have to assume from context clues that Ryan thinks that because they fought it out and Trey's been in a coma all summer that they're square. Ryan tells Seth something along the lines of "I'd give anything for him to wake up" and yes that's his brother so it's incredibly complicated but also what the fuck.

The attack and shooting were intensely psychologically damaging for Ryan that summer but 1) the show never really attempted to treat it as such and 2) it impacted how he was able to identify with and console Marissa. It's pretty in character for him to keep things bottled up while she's all emotion and heart. Their similarly shared trauma is what bonded them in the first place but this was something they went through together, though having had different roles in each event. And somehow it's worse, because their coping mechanisms are different and there's a lot unsaid due to them being all-too-reliant on nonverbal communication. They are so separately traumatized in 3x01 that they've both contended that things will be okay when Trey awakes and probably not thought about anything beyond that. Ryan hasn't let himself consider Marissa's own trauma from the events because he already feels so, so bad that he brought Trey into her life in the first place. And that's not right, of course he should've given her perspective much more thought, but I think it's his way of coping. As Sandy says in 3x02, Ryan wanting to fix the situation is "the universal male instinct" rather than just sitting with Marissa and talking. The third season should've delved into this as they were trying to evolve the characters into adults anyway due to it being senior year.

As for the end scene you actually asked about (lol) I've chosen to see the scene as Ryan having seen Trey for the last time and lamenting the last real familial tie he had. Much of the Ryan we came to know is defined by his upbringing and frayed ties with his blood relatives. Trey's crimes are the whole reason Ryan ended up in Newport and I have to give that final scene credit for somehow bringing Ryan's complicated feelings toward his family full circle. I don't think he really knows what he's feeling but he's also just been in jail for a few days so he's probably been thinking about stealing that first car with Trey in 1x01 and everything that's come from it. Ryan's been confused and anxious all summer. The story he tells Marissa is an allegory for him feeling like a scared little kid again. As Theresa said in 2x23, "Trey's been kicking you around your whole life". Trey's crimes against Marissa are horrifying and I think Ryan's only way of acknowledging that was with his fist in that apartment. Because talking it out is something he was never raised to do. Ryan has alluded to basically raising himself but "It was always me and Trey against the world" is telling too. Ryan not only thought of him as a brother but as a protector. We saw in s2 how complicated Ryan's feelings are about his brother and we saw how Trey could manipulate Ryan pretty easily. I think 3x01 is an example of Trey pulling those strings again with just his presence. Him being around discombobulates Ryan so much and there will always be a power imbalance between them. Because Trey has the ability to make Ryan feel like a scared little kid.

Ryan sharing the story with Marissa means a lot because we never see him share much about his home life beyond little comments to Seth and an anecdote here and there. Even though Ryan doesn't have the emotional maturity to talk through everything with Marissa, she's still the one he's closest to emotionally. And he knows she'd never judge him for feeling lost and small. They get one another in ways that are overwhelming yet comforting and it's part of why they keep coming back together. This scene promises a closeness and Marissa's "You're not alone this time" is very key in this vulnerable position Ryan's found himself in. We never see him like this, and we have to assume Marissa has seen it infrequently too. Marissa's saying "I'm scared with you, if you're that scared little kid I'm right there too, we'll be scared together" and it's so simple. Because ALL Marissa wants is to walk through this with him. Even this schtick they have of "if we stick together, things will be okay" in the first three episodes is so much clinging to the other so they don't drown. And it's not just Ryan who wants to avoid it. Marissa wasn't taught how to process her feelings or trauma either. They enable one another sometimes because they're also afraid of that same vulnerability and even culpability; it comes out a bit in their 3x02 fight (Marissa knows Ryan lowkey blames her for Trey leaving and Ryan is still very confused about those things so he doesn't even consider them and is instead defensive). It's really the last time we see them actually discuss what happened in 2x24 (2x21 is barely discussed in 3x01) so we have to piece together a few things.

But resolving to stick together isn't in itself unhealthy, and they're so so young that it makes sense that they think (or at least wish) that clinging to what they've built together will resolve their problems. It's actually incredibly romantic, and I think goes to the root of why I love them so much. They're deeply traumatized characters who see those same things in one another and are constantly trying to survive.

#ask #anonymous #3x01 #i have thought about this about a thousand times more than js ever did is all i'm saying #marissa deserved better from ryan for sure regarding these events and i think if he was in character he would've realized this sooner #like i'm not saying it's okay that he pushed it from his mind i'm just saying it makes sense since he was also so involved #he can't be objective when it comes to trey and you can see in s2 he so badly wishes he could be #so turning his brain off is how he deals. and tbh that's real

6 notes · View notes

denkisdurag · 4 years

Text

todoroki, midoriya, bakugo x reader

summary : tiktok popularized memes that y'all quote !! (headcanon)

warnings: swearing, mention of sex

a/n: please request things in the comments or my askbox ! bc i mean ,, can u tell i'm running out of ideas 😔

---

shoto todoroki !

you to him - "y'all hear sum?"

todoroki can be a lil frustrating sometimes

so when he gets on your nerves

the silent treatment is an ideal way to go for you

so when he would try to talk to you again

you would just look at no one in particular and point behind you with your thumb

and say "y'all hear sum?"

you were saying it out of irritation but when y'all made up, you still said it, only now it was ironic

todoroki isn't a very vocal person anyway so it was appropriate no matter what

but you mostly said it when he calls you out on something

like when he says or suggests that you did something stupid or wrong

you would just awkwardly scratch your head with one finger and be like

"y'all hear sum?"

it would at least get a grin out of him

not that he would know how to admit or express it but he loved your goofiness wholeheartedly

him to you - "if two plus two is four..."

todoroki is not a meme kind of person

but he would be ceo of telling you what decisions you should make

he isn't controlling, he just naturally knows what the better path would be and wants to make sure you get the best result bc he loves u aw

that being said,

when you defy him and turn up upset

he knows what cheers you up

funny tingz !!

so when you fuck up

he tries to make it laughable

for example

you were training and doing pretty well

but then you missed the target horribly

it wasn't even close

dumb bitch

you slouched and frowned and todoroki walked up to you, completely straight, no body language at all

"[name]."

"huh?"

"if two plus two is four." he starts, putting his hands together flat and briefly covering his mouth with his index fingers

"and five plus five is ten." he starts turning toward the target

"what the hell is this?" he gestures his hands out to your failed aim

my baby don't curse like that

you giggle and shove his upper arm

he made u smile ! mission accomplished !

he subtly grinned and went back to his own target

and it didn't matter how many times or how badly you missed

because he was there to support you either way

fuck i'm getting soft moving on

izuku midoriya !

him to you - the debby ryan hair tuck

funnily enough, deku's meme isn't even verbal

but it's just as hilarious lmao

everytime you say something sweet

or like

fluster him

he just tilts his head down and makes awkward eye contact with you

tucking his green hair behind his ear

you've helped develop his humor

so he's still soft, just not as much

so he does it when you insult him too

of course, he knows you're just joking

so when you come for his neCk

he does it the exact same like

"you are so stupid, midoriya."

*debby ryan* "you really think so?"

he just does it out of habit at this point

you to him - "don't be shy!"

y'all know that deku is babie

and often second guesses himself

so this meme is like ,, a boost

but instead of saying "put some more", you say whatever applies

when you're training and he doesn't want to hurt you

"don't be shy! do your worst!!"

or when bakugo's been giving him a hard time

"don't be shy! kick his ass!!"

you know that he's capable

and he does too

but he just needs to hear it from you

you help him in that sense

and it's a bonus for him

bc he loves hearing you say it

it always gets a good laugh out of him

katsuki bakugo !

him to you - "...wait a damn minute."

let's admit it

ur a dumb bitch

just accept it

when his favorite nickname for you is dumbass 💕🥰🥵💍🧸🥴

but no actually, sometimes it's obvious that you aren't thinking

and you end up saying some really stupid things

so whenever you're talking too fast or just say something that he can't process

bakugo will just stare at you for a minute

and then mindlessly wave his hand around and say

"wait a damn minute"

and yes, he tries to say it with a ghetto accent and everything

but let's face it my boy would not be able to muster such a voice

so yeah

u may a dumb bitch

but ur his dumb bitch

and he loves having to care for you

he likes your vulnerability around him

so it's a win win :)

you to him - "yuhhh get into it!"

literally anytime he does a n y t h i n g

everytime he uses his quirk

"yuhhh get intooo ittt!!!"

he's ranting about midoriya and how he just wants to hurt him

"yuhhh get intooo ittt!!!"

tbh you probably said it during sex LMFAOOO

it gets to the point where you say it to everyone you know out of habit

it's like

your number one personality trait

it's kinda annoying after a while ngl

you and kiri and kami would make him just fucking combust from irritation

but you know

gang gang

bakugo kinda rages in silence bc he doesn't wanna hurt u

softie

but after a while, he says it with you and to you as well

it's a mutual catchphrase

when people see you two together, they just imagine "YUHHH GET INTO IT"

kinda funny lol

559 notes · View notes

penguinwithitsarseonfire · 3 years

Text

I Was too Scared to Jump In

Part 3 | See the Full Series Here

Pairing: 13th Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 4,953

Warnings: None

Summary: After Jack notices some stolen glances from across the console room, he decides to ask the Doctor about her feelings for you. It results in a bump in the head and some hot chocolate in the dead of night. (This is technically a sequel to Mosaic Broken Hearts but can be read as a standalone)

A/N: I was in a bit of a slump for this series because I did not plan this far ahead, and then that trailer came out and I was like huh. right then. and then this happened. Enjoy??? I scrapped using pronouns for this one because they’re still weird to write, so let me know if any dialogue is clunky!! Much love everyone ❤️✨

The Doctor hadn’t planned for a quiet day in the TARDIS, it had just sort of… happened.

She was doing some basic maintenance in the console room; a service on the brakes and acceleration, and was lost in her own world of wires, motor grease, and the buzz of her sonic.

She was somewhat aware of you, Yaz, and Ryan sitting by the steps, playing a game of Jenga. There were periodic moments when something would topple, the three of you would cry out, and the Doctor would know a round had finished. Jack was sitting on the steps above them, casually talking with Graham – well, that’s what the Doctor assumed, she wasn’t paying attention, and she wasn’t one to eavesdrop. That would be rude.

The secondary connecting wire to the clutch sparked, and the Doctor gazed it down with narrowed eyes. No matter what she did, it just didn’t seem to want to do what she wanted.

She poked her head out from the console and pulled her mask off so she could see her friends better.

She had been right, there you were, with Ryan and Yaz, playing Jenga. She eyed Jack and Graham, who, as she had suspected, were idly watching the game and chatting among themselves. The Doctor zeroed in on Jack. He knew the TARDIS operating system, in the past, he’d helped her out on more than one occasion.

Jack was watching the three of you as he spoke to Graham. He cocked his head to the side as he watched Ryan, as if trying to discern the tactics Ryan was using.

In the game, it was your turn, and you eyed the tower with immense concentration, shaking Ryan off when he tried to psyche you out. The Doctor watched you for a moment, your fingers danced over a middle piece high up in the tower, and your prodded at it experimentally. The piece budged, and you gently dislodged it. You took it out and placed it on top of the tower, before poking your tongue out at Ryan.

The Doctor wanted to join in, she wanted to run over and ask how you were all going, how you were going. She wanted to soak up as much of your time as she could, try to shatter some of those absurd boundaries she had finally worked out she had.

But she was doing maintenance work, and if she left it, she’d forget what she had been doing

Jacks eyes locked on to the Doctor’s, and he gave her a small, cocky, smirk. He nodded down to the three of you, then back to the Doctor, who could only roll her eyes. She knew what he was insinuating, what he had kept suggesting ever since he had sauntered onto her ship.

It wasn’t even that she didn’t want to admit it, she had long made her peace that she loved you, at this point, it was as innate to the Doctor as breathing. But Jack made teasing suggestions, as if the Doctor’s feelings were common knowledge, and she wasn’t ready for it to be common knowledge yet-

She wasn’t ready for you to know it yet.

“Jack, could you come down here a mo’?” She asked, pointedly ignoring his expression as he not-so-subtly wagged his eyebrows whilst nodding over to you. “You’ve got experience with this.”

Jack raised a surprised eyebrow but didn’t complain. He patted Graham on the knee and stood up, sidestepping the three of you on the floor.

You looked up away from the game for a moment, shooting the Doctor a small smile. The Doctor tried – and, admittedly, probably failed, to hide her blush. It was one of those smiles that the Doctor saw you give to monuments, to the birthing of civilisations, to the majesty of the stars, and, to be given that smile too? It was amazing.

She smiled back – probably an awkward amalgamation which more likely resembled a sneer than a smile, but you seemed to brighten to it. The Doctor wasn’t good at emotions, or expressing them when she really meant them.

Jack cleared his throat, which was how the Doctor realised he was crouched down beside her. “What’s up Doc?”

The Doctor hummed, tearing her eyes away from you, over to him. He was giving her a knowing smirk and the Doctor almost rolled her eyes again. She gestured to the wire, which was still letting of haywire sparks. “It’s for the gears,” she explained. “It’s not wanting to stitch itself back together-“

“Have you tried sonic compulsion?” Jack asked.

The Doctor hummed. “That was the first thing I did,” she waved her sonic in the air. “But there’s no give. So I-”

“What about engineers tape?” Jack suggested, and he poked the wire experimentally. It sparked and he hissed, sticking his finger in his mouth. “We could then go to the Medusa Cascade and get some proper supplies.”

The Doctor sighed. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to land whilst she’s like this,” the Doctor said. “Which was why I was thinking-”

“Have you tried asking the wire on a date?”

“-If you hold it down then,” the Doctor did a double take. “What – no. Why would I..?” Her eyes flickered to you, who was talking animatedly with Graham whilst Yaz took her turn in Jenga.

“No reason,” Jack gave her a shit eating grin and he sat down cross legged beside her. “What did you want to try?”

The Doctor huffed, and pulled down her goggles. “I need you to hold the wire and the artron accelerator, you know where that is.”

Jack hummed, and shimmied himself so he was lying on his stomach, arms outstretched so he could hold the two respective items.

“Hopefully with the artron accelerator stabilised, the secondary connecting wire to the clutch should finally give,” she gritted out the final words as she stuck her sonic at it, putting in all her energy into repairing the wire.

It began mending, tendrils from the base of the wire reached out to its counterpart, and the Doctor watched as the wire began to stitch itself together.

There was a beat, a moment where the only thing the Doctor could hear was the whir of her sonic, and the repair of the wire.

Then Jack said, very softly. “So, Y/N.”

The Doctor screwed up her face slightly, but remained concentrated on what she was doing. “What about Y/N?”

Jack was silent for a long moment, long enough for the Doctor to believe that he had dropped it. The wire continued to stich itself together, and the Doctor watched as the little sparks turned into energy that spurred it along.

Jack then spoke. “When’re you going to tap that?”

The Doctor tapped her sonic against the wire, purposely misunderstanding him. She hummed speculatively. “I don’t think that did much help.”

Jack scoffed. “Alright then, play that game. You knew exactly what I meant.”

The Doctor eyed him disapprovingly, which probably didn’t come across because of – well, because of the massive goggles hiding her eyes. “It’s derogatory.”

“Ah, this is the sort of banter I missed,” Jack gave her a cheeky grin. “Like the good old days, talking about a plucky young human you’re in love with and everything.”

The Doctor chewed her lip at that, turning away from him and pooling all her attention on the wire. In the background she heard you cry out triumphantly. A small, pleased smile ghosted across her face at the sound. She was glad you were happy.

Jack sighed. “Okay, so I see that approach isn’t working. I’ll do what Graham suggested then.”

The Doctor turned to Jack suddenly. “What Graham suggested? What do you mean – does he know?”

Jack’s defeated look grew into a grin as triumphant as the one the Doctor assumed you were currently wearing. The Doctor deflated, instantly realising what he had done. He said one, single word. “Gotcha.”

The Doctor ground her teeth and turned back to the wire, furious that her old friend knew her so well, that he had so easily managed to trick her into revealing – however subtly, her feelings for you. She wasn’t ready for her fam to know, which, by extension of Jack being here, automatically included him.

So what if the Doctors eyes lingered on you a little bit longer than the others, or that she looked for your approval more often, or that her hands ghosted over your person whenever she was allowed the opportunity. It wasn’t of any consequence to any of you, not yet.

The Doctor wanted to hold her love for you close to her, let herself work it out, work out what she needed from this, from you. She couldn’t do anything until she worked that out, it wouldn’t be fair to her, and it would be completely cruel to you. You deserved better than that.

No, the Doctor wanted to go in completely prepped, completely ready.

So Jack? Saying these things? Doing these things?

It was throwing the Doctor out into a loop.

“Aw Doc, I didn’t mean it like that,” Jack said, and he nudged her shoulder. “I’m sorry okay, I’m just teasing.”

The Doctor gave him an unconvinced look, but the drama was probably lost. Again – the goggles.

Jack sighed. “All I’m saying,” he said, his tone measured, like he was talking down a scared wild animal. “Is that it’s clear Y/N loves you back, is all.”

The Doctor’s mind went haywire. That you loved her back. Out of all her fretting, all her worrying, she hadn’t even gotten to the part where you could return her feelings. She had predicted, once she realised all the kinks and details so she could actually do right by you, that she would… woo you.

But you loved her back?

The Doctor stumbled backwards, knocking her head against the console. She winced, throwing her hand to her head as her screwdriver clattered to the floor. She could hear a ringing in her ears, and her vision went spotty. The rest of the world swayed around her, and she tried to concentrate on it, find something she could pinpoint to ground her.

Her body was doing… a thing. She couldn’t articulate it. It was a shock thing, wasn’t it?

“Woah Doctor,” Jack cried, and there were suddenly hands on her shoulders, and then another on her jaw. The hand there felt safe, like a grounding presence. The Doctor felt herself latching onto it.

Jack spoke, but the words were lost to her. Something about being okay.. and her goggles? Surely that wasn’t right.

“Oh Doctor,” there was a second voice in the distance, but the Doctor’s mind was rattled. She couldn’t place it straight away, her mind still working through what Jack had said.

Then, like clockwork, her brain puzzled it together.

“Are you okay, here – wait, can I take off the goggles?”

The Doctor pulled her goggles off above her head, and blinked against the sudden light. Jack was hovering above her, his face pulled into concern. His voice swam in her ears.

“That was a bit of a nasty bump, Doc. You okay?”

There was another face above Jack’s, floating against the warm glow of the crystals. The Doctor forced her eyes to focus. It was you.

“Oh,” she said. “Hi Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

You snorted, but your face was pulled into worry. “Yeah, you too,” you were crouched down beside Jack, and the Doctor realised that the hand on her jaw was yours. She had been leaning into it, and the Doctor tried not to freeze up as she realised. It would most definitely set off the wrong idea.

She slowly detangled herself from you and Jack, and eyed the wire. She groaned, scrunching her face in protest. It had fallen apart during the Doctors… incident, and she would need to start all over again.

“Doctor,” by your tone, it sounded like you were repeating yourself. “Are you okay? That was really sudden.”

The Doctor stared back at you. You reminded her of a European renaissance painting, all glowey and ethereal, like you had wandered straight out of a Caravaggio painting. She waited another moment for her brain to reboot, focusing on the way your eyes shone in the low light.

She rubbed against the spot on her head that she had bumped, it was low, near to where her head met her neck, and she cursed that that was the part of her brain she had been using to focus on her conversation with Jack.

“I bumped against the part of my brain that was focusing on something difficult,” she said. “And the shock knocked all my systems out for a moment. That’s all, I’m fine now,” and then, as an aside. “I should reshuffle which part of my brain focuses on what. I’ve got three brain stems, might as well use ‘em.”

She ducked down to retrieve her screwdriver, and felt the hot white feeling of awkwardness creep up on her. How embarrassing! She’d temporarily passed out because she had been talking about you with Jack and had accidently knocked herself on the head.

“Hang on,” she heard a third voice, Ryan – and had everyone come over? “What do you mean three brain stems? You’ve got three brain stems?”

The Doctor popped back up, grateful for the distraction. “I can separate the hemispheres in my brain,” she said, and Graham pulled a face that could only be described as his ‘what’ face. “Means I can multitask.”

“That’s mad,” Ryan breathed out. “That’s like, proper alien.”

“Well the Doctor is an alien,” Yaz said, absorbing the information just as easily and quickly as she always did. “Makes sense that she’s got different biology beyond the two hearts thing.”

“Are you okay though?” You asked again. “That was a bit scary.”

“Came out of nowhere,” Ryan agreed.

The Doctor scratched behind her ear, and scrunched up her face. She was embarrassed. You were sitting right there, you face full of concern, and she’d done the Time Lord equivalent of tripping up the stairs. “Yeah, peachy. It happens more often than you’d think. Normally there isn’t an audience though.”

Jack’s face grew in understanding. “Oh,” he breathed. “Is this like Thornian-”

“Exactly,” The Doctor said loudly, because she did not need her fam to hear that particular story. She didn’t need you to hear that particular story. “Like I said,” she turned back to the rest of her friends. “I’m just a clutz.”

You screwed up your face, unconvinced. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The Doctor nodded dumbly, her hearts skipping a beat or two. The Doctor wanted to reach out and touch you, to memorise the lines your face made as you pulled it into various shapes. “Yes. I promise.”

Later, when the rest of the fam had gone to bed, Jack sat opposite her in the TARDIS kitchen, laughing at her.

The Doctor glared at her microwave, which had short circuited and exploded because she had forgotten that, of all things, you couldn’t put metal in them. It was basic, fundamental science, physics 101, the stuff they teach school children, and all the other anecdotes Jack was currently rattling off.

“I’m happy to boil some milk on the stove,” Jack said once he had finished laughing. “It’ll take a bit longer, but we’ll still get our hot chocolate.”

The Doctor waved towards the stove, inviting Jack to go ahead.

“How is everything in here?” Jack asked, as he started rummaging through cupboards to find a pot. “Same as when I last saw it? Minus the fresh paint, that is.”

“Dunno,” the Doctor said. “I don’t really use the kitchen. Take out’s easier.”

Jack made a little ‘aha’ moment when he found a pot. “Normally is,” he replied, and he placed the pot rather delicately onto the stove. He turned it on and poured the milk into the pot. “Do you have chocolate, or just the powdered stuff?”

“Pretty sure I’ve only got the powdered stuff,” she replied, but she stood and began rummaging through the pantry. In the back of one of the shelves, behind mounds of dry pasta and biscuits from the town called Christmas, sat an old chocolate powder container. There was a fine sheen of dust on it, and the Doctor wiped it off. She eyed the use by date, and her heart clenched. 2008.

Donna must have been the one who put it here.

She gripped her free hand against the shelf. There it was again, that awful, reeling sense of heartbreak, coming back full force when she thought of anyone she had once loved. It settled quicker than it once did, becoming the dull throb that normally only sat in the back of her mind.

“It’s a couple centuries old,” she said, returning to Jack and sticking the powder to his side. “But it should still be alright,” she grinned at him, but he only frowned at her.

“You do that a lot,” he commented, and he stirred the milk so it wouldn’t stick to the pot.

The Doctor chewed on her lip for a moment. She was scared to ask, scared that Jack would reveal something too intimate, see too far into her soul, something he was so good at doing. It wasn’t fair, really.

Still though, she asked. “Do what?”

“You smile,” he said. “But it doesn’t really seem like you want to.”

The Doctor slumped into her seat. He hit the nail there.

“You did it earlier today,” he continued, and the Doctor winced. “Back when you hit your head – which, pretty dramatic, even by your standards.”

The Doctor screwed up her nose. “It wasn’t like I was acting.”

“Oh no,” Jack said. “I know that. Of all people, you know I know that. I’m just saying, we were talking about, or well, rather, not talking about a certain someone, and then you bumped your head by the exact part of your brain having those thoughts? Causing the spasms?” Jack gave her another shit eating grin. “I don’t know Doctor, perhaps it’s telling you something.”

The Doctor puffed out a strand of her that had fallen into her face. “I think it’s telling you to stop talking.”

“Is every face of yours like this? Or is it just because of me?” Jack asked, but he was still grinning.

Her past face, the face that had met Jack, would probably have had a witty answer. In hindsight, the Doctor could have seen that face, with its big ears and smart mouth, saying ‘It’s all just for you’, but this face, her current one, with her blonde hair and affinity for rainbows, didn’t have a clue.

“I don’t know Jack,” she groaned, and rubbed a hand down her face. “Maybe? I’m not good at talking in this face.”

Jack snorted. “Yeah, you made that obvious when you decided to hit your head rather than talk about your feelings.”

“I didn’t choose to do that,” The Doctor protested. “It just happened.”

“Hey, hey, I know,” Jack defended. “I’m just saying, lucky coincidence.” He stirred the milk again, and the Doctor watched it froth and bubble. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

The Doctor considered it for a moment. She knew that she was the only one who could work out what she needed, if she would actually be good for you – if you actually loved her back.

But talking… talking was important, she needed to get better at it, she knew she did.

So she sighed, and went to the cupboard that she was pretty sure stored some mugs. She stood on her tip toes, cursing the height of everything around her, and managed to grasp two mugs. They were plain, and the Doctor was grateful for that, she didn’t want to find anything else that held memories.

“Yeah,” she said, and she placed the mugs on the bench next to the hot chocolate powder. “I think I probably should.”

Jack gave her a delighted, if surprised, smile. “Yeah? Oh I love that. Doctor, I think that’s character growth.”

She gave him a small, wry, smile. “Well, I did tell you I upgraded.”

The milk bubbled and Jack took the pot off of the heat. He carefully poured it into the two mugs, and the Doctor distributed a generous helping of powder into each one, stirring vigorously.

“So,” Jack said. “Y/N.”

“Y/N.”

“How long’s that been going on for?”

The Doctor hummed, contemplating the question. “Are you asking when I realised it was love? Because that wasn’t too long ago, but honestly, I think I’ve always loved Y/N.”

“You’re not scared of the word ‘love’,” Jack noticed, and he took a sip of his hot chocolate. “That’s new.”

The Doctor snorted. “No, I am. It’s just… well, it feels right. Nothing else does, but loving Y/N? Yeah, that feels right.”

Jack nodded and began walking out of the kitchen, the Doctor followed. They meandered through the hallways of the TARDIS, with her softly thrumming beside them. Jack brushed his hand against the wall, a small smile on his face. “I’ve missed this,” he said, and his voice sounded full of wonder. “It’s been so long.”

“It has,” the Doctor agreed, and she took a small sip of her hot chocolate. It was warm, and there was a slight hint of peppermint in it. It was nice.

The TARDIS was feeling kind tonight, because she easily lead them to the console room. The Doctor had parked over Kasterbos V, a star that was just being born. According to the Doctor’s calculations, it would end up becoming this star systems sun, but she had never travelled here before, so she didn’t quite know for sure.

They sat on the threshold of the TARDIS, dangling their legs into deep space, and watched the burning, bright fires of the tiny star dance and throw themselves into the air, slowly forming a giant which would warm billions for the millennia to come.

“So, Y/N,” Jack said, and the Doctor sighed. She had almost forgotten what they had been talking about.

Almost. You took up too much of her thoughts to forget it completely.

The Doctor hummed, offering Jack a moment to continue.

“If ‘love’ is the right word,” he drummed his fingers against the mug, as if trying to work out how to say what he was thinking, or, rather, knowing him, if he should say what he was thinking. “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“You don’t know I haven’t said anything.”

“I’ve seen how Y/N looks at you,” Jack countered. “Doesn’t know anything.”

The Doctor let out a breath. Jack was right, of course. You didn’t know how the Doctor felt, she’d been doing her hardest to make sure you wouldn’t know.

“It’s complicated,” the Doctor said, after a moment. “There’s a lot to consider.”

“Ah,” Jack said, and he took another sip of his hot chocolate, a small smile of satisfaction forming. “So you’re stalling.”

The Doctor spluttered. “What? I am not.”

“You are,” Jack repeated. “I’ve seen you do this before, and we all know how that ended.”

The Doctor huffed, ignoring the pang in her hearts at the mention of her, that wonderful girl from another life, another century. “This is different.”

“Of course it’s different,” Jack agreed. “Rose and Y/N aren’t the same person,”

The Doctor tried to protest, it was so jarring hearing a name from so many lifetimes ago. Sometimes she forgot just how long ago she had met Jack, and how old the two of them were now.

“You’re going to love them in different ways,” Jack continued. “Hell, I bet you still love Rose,” the Doctor gawked, but Jack ignored her. “Just like you still love Martha, and Donna, and me, as well as how you love Graham, Yaz, and Ryan today,” he said it in the most matter-of-fact way, as if this was a fundamental truth. “That doesn’t make your love for any of us any less, or your love for Y/N any less.”

The Doctor worried her bottom lip slightly, and she stared out at the star. She refused to make eye contact with Jack, no one had ever said something like that before, she hadn’t even said it to herself.

It was true though.

“Sometimes,” Jack spoke again, and his voice was softer. “I think you just get so immersed in that great big head of yours that you lose yourself in all the what-ifs, and you don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

“I know what’s right in front of me Jack-”

“Then why won’t you say anything?” Jack questioned. “Why don’t you march right up to Y/N and say exactly how you feel?”

The Doctor flailed. “Because Jack! I-”

What could she say? That she was terrified that she wasn’t right for you, that she would only hurt her, and then, eventually, when you were gone, it would only crush her? That she couldn’t be what you needed, that she couldn’t fashion herself into someone that you could be in a relationship with?

The Doctor waved a hand in the air, and saw Jacks pained face staring back at her. She slowly sat her hand back down, ghosting it over her mug.

“I just said my inner monologue out loud,” she said slowly. “Didn’t I.”

“Jeez Doc,” Jack ran a hand over his face, and it was all the confirmation the Doctor needed that she had said everything out loud. “When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

The Doctor puffed out indigently. “I’ll have you know I was married for several centuries.”

Jack let out an amused sound. “I know,” he said, and he rubbed over a spot on his wrist. “She bought my vortex manipulator.”

The Doctor gasped, and her fascination over learning this new information, for a moment, let her forget the heartbreak that came with thinking about River. “That’s where she got it.”

“Uh huh,” Jack took a sip of his hot chocolate. “But that doesn’t count, it not like that relationship was exactly linear.”

The pang came in, that dull throb that reminded her of why she had River’s picture on that old desk of hers, why the Doctor still kept that diary near her in her bedroom. “That’s true.”

The pain subsided, as she knew it would. The Doctor had been mourning River since she had met her. By now that loss was like an old friend.

“Let me give you some advice then,” Jack said. “Something that’ll shatter your worldview.”

The Doctor raised a sceptical eyebrow. “There’s not a lot that can do that.”

“Listen to me Doc, no one knows what they’re doing. No one goes into a relationship knowing exactly what they need, knowing exactly what they can do for their partner, or knowing the end result – and, y’know what? No one should know.

“Relationships are hard work, they’re about compromise, they’re about a give and take, and, through it all, you need to understand that your partner isn’t perfect, and they’re going to make mistakes. Just like you will too. You balance each-others best qualities, and your worst qualities.

“The point of relationships is that you care about one another to do what’s right. Sometimes what’s right is to make it work, to help one another and support one another. Sometimes what’s right is to let the other go.

“But I don’t think you should let Y/N go before you’ve even tried. That’s not like you Doc, I didn’t even know it was in your vocabulary.”

“What,” The Doctor said, focusing on the last thing Jack said so she could try to process the rest of it. “Try is definitely in my vocabulary. It’s my M.O, my middle name, if you will. The Try Doctor – no, wait,” she scrunched up her face. “That makes it sound like my first name, oh-”

“Then try, Doctor,” Jack said. “C’mon man, what’s holding you back?”

The Doctor froze mid-speech.

What’s holding you back?

The Doctor thought about your smile, soft and warm in the orange glow of the TARDIS’ crystals, a smile that seemed to be reserved just for her.

“I’m scared,” she spoke in a small voice. “I’m scared of how much I need Y/N. I’m scared of what I’ll do when I lose-”

There was a hand on her knee, and the Doctor realised she had curled in on herself – when had that happened? She forced her body to relax, and went back to dangling her legs out of the TARDIS.

Jack looked at her, truly looked at her, like he did when he had first decided to split apart from her, so many years ago, when they first fought daleks together. “We all are, Doctor,” he gave her a small smile. “What is it you always say, about fear? It’s a superpower isn’t it? Keeps you alive.”

“I’m not worried about being alive right now.”

“No,” Jack agreed. “But that doesn’t make you fear bad. It tells you that you care, that you want it to work out with Y/N. That’s a good thing.”

The Doctor looked at Jack, almost desperately. “What do I do then?”

Jack smiled at her, as if the answer were clear as day. “You do what you always do Doc, you take a leap of faith.”

A leap of faith?

Could she do that?. For you, she reckoned she could do just about anything. Which was the terrifying thing.

But maybe Jack was right. A give and take, a compromise, a balancing act.

A leap of faith?

The Doctor hardened her resolve. For you?

She could do that.

Tag List: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @dreamer7black @fabulouspotatosister

#the doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor #Doctor Who #DW

111 notes · View notes

slingerapen · 3 years

Note

📕📓

2.. 2 oh god ok

1. A crack creepypasta idea about Jon ending up back in the archives in season one. He's internalized him being the catalyst for every bad event and decides to disappear - don't do anything, don't be important to the spider, don't be seen. Problem is, he still needs the eye and is generally very weak, so he starts living in the archives. The s1 crew start hearing weird noises, jon speaking despite standing next to them, like he's recording a statement, but when they go and check there's nobody there, weird feeling of being watched. Statements going missing, piles of mismatched files rearranging. At some point Tim or something can definitely hear a male voice coming from nearby. Like muttering. Turns out future!Jon's been living in the walls. He freaks out when they tear the plaster away and scuttles back. Everyone's all freaked out. this is nonsense i just fcking love people living in the walls stories i think jon would be really funny as a wall guy. (ryan bergara voice) so, are you scared?

2. me and @yamiiino were toying with the idea of another timetravel fic, but neither of us have been in the mood for writing nor do we really know how to tie this one up into a story nicely. Jon and Martin timetravel and do the whole explaining the fears stuff, but when Jon begins to explain the apocalypse, he starts reciting Jonah's statement again. They freak out, Martin stops Jon before he can go on any further, and the rest of the fic is about having to acknowledge that the statement might only work because Jon believes that's how it will work. It's a bit "Power of Stories" and "Dreamlogic", this fic.

The story's a bit muddy for the rest, but the important part is that Jon is back to always being hungry again, but the problem is also that he's the archive, he already knows everyone's horrors, and he can't really be sated anymore. Nothing is new to him anymore. His 'feeding' is telling other people about their fearscapes, the thing which would hurt them the most.

Martin also has to deal with being an avatar. His is more about accidentally and subtly mentioning how much nicer it would be if it would be quieter, thinks is nice him and Jon don't have to worry so much anymore back in the past because life's pretty stagnant. Validating other people's need for loneliness etc., hoping he's relating to them. But unfortunatly this just makes his victims end up in empty archives or in his lonely rainy domain.... such as past!Martin, who's still very much a smorgasbord.

The fic would be more about struggling to live without the constant feed of the Eye. Jon having to get used to the quiet and also not being able to relate at all to normal humans, bc they've basically been his backdrop for the entire fearpocalypse, and the only ones he's been having equal conversations with were other avatars... This is also ultimately an extinction!jon fic where he's keeping schrödringer's apocalypse statement inside of him at all times; if he believes in the strength and story of the fears and he recites it, it'll unleash the apocalypse again. If he sets himself over his role as the Most Importantest Boy and sees the statement for what it is, just another ploy to get Jon invested in his character as the story's lynchpin, jonahs statement wont work.

#god i knew i couldnt write this in the day.... too many words...#i dont think i explained things very well fjfdskfjdkf the 2nd one makes much more sense if me and gabby just riff off eachother in convo #magnus archives #ask meme #anne replies #riotbrrrd #my fanfics #sorrta

13 notes · View notes

max-is-tired · 4 years

Note

number eleven with the sentence starters dukeceit because tbh we dont give those two enough love. (dont worry ill probably send in a dukexiety one too i gotta love All Of Them)

11-“Can you pretend to be my date so my parents will shut up?”

Ships: Dukeceit, Romile (background)

Characters: Deceit Sanders (called Ethan), Remus Sanders, Roman Sanders (mentioned), Emile Picani (mentioned)

Words: 1.508

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, sympathetic Remus, just a hint of angst but it’s resolved immediately, kissing

Notes: man I really love writing these two nckjnsjkcn also this fic made me ship Romile, I was not expecting to love this ship as much as I now do but oh my god they make my heart go soft-

Commission me!! Buy me a coffee!! Join my Discord server!! AO3!!

“Can you pretend to be my date so my parents will shut up?”

Ethan blinked, looking at Remus in confusion as he slowly lowered his cup back on the table.

“What?”

Remus groaned, looking up at him from where he was holding his head in his hands.

“Now that Roman has found a boyfriend my parents keep not so subtly asking when I’m finally gonna bring someone home, so I need you to pretend to be my partner during Thanksgiving break to get them off my back. Please? You’re literally the only one I can ask who is also free during that week.”

Ethan fought down a wince at Remus’ words -it wasn’t a secret that he wasn’t exactly on good terms with his family, but having it so blatantly pointed out to him still wasn’t pleasant.

“Sorry,” Remus sighed, “but still, please? I’ll do whatever you want, I’ll even stop stealing your deodorant if you ask me to.”

“Well, how can I say no to that,” Ethan rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his words. Then, he turned to look at Remus, and immediately realized his mistake.

Remus had brought out the puppy dog eyes, and if there was one thing Ethan couldn’t resist it was the way the other pushed his lip forward and looked at him all wide-eyed and pleading. God, why did he ever believe anything good would ever come out of Remus’ friendship with Patton?

Ethan sighed, sagging on his seat as he sent his friend a half-hearted glare.

“Oh, alright you sewer rat,” he finally agreed, looking everything but pleased. “But you owe me big time, you hear me?”

“Hell yeah, thank you so much, E!” Remus cheered, jumping up from his seat to throw his arms around his friend. “I knew I could count on you!”

Ethan grumbled something under his breath, turning his head to the side to hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

An entire week pretending to be his crush’s boyfriend without outing their scheme or losing his mind? Oh yeah, he could totally do that.

(Spoiler alert: he very much could not, and lying to himself was not going to change the reality of his situation anytime soon.)

+++

Surprisingly enough, Ethan managed to survive most of the week without letting his gigantic crush on Remus compromise their ruse. It helped that the entire family seemed to focus more on the other couple present, with Roman and Emile being all sweet and romantic at any chance available and making what felt like the entire house aw in delight.

Ethan was pretty sure he was going to get cavities by the end of the week because of them, but at least he didn’t have all that attention focused on him.

The Incident went down on the Friday after Thanksgiving, with everyone chilling around the house and half-heartedly munching on leftovers after spending an entire day eating enormous quantities of food. Ethan had to give it to them -if there was one thing the Grimm family excelled at, it was cooking.

Remus and Ethan had been chilling on the floor in front of the couch when everything started.

Roman, who had been sitting just a few feet away from them, had suddenly perked up as the firsts note of “Can’t help falling in love” flowed out of the speakers, grinning from ear to ear as he jumped on his feet. He reached up to gently grab Emile’s arm, pulling his boyfriend up with him in a flurry of giggles before guiding him in a slow dance around the living room.

Ethan watched them with an amused smile, noticing how Roman was murmuring the lyrics just for Emile to ear as they dance around with equal, smitten smiles on their face. If Ethan were a little more childish, he would have probably gagged at the sight. As it was, he knew he could count on his dear (fake) boyfriend to properly express their feelings, fighting down a chuckle as Remus fake-gagged to his heart’s content.

“Remus, hush,” his mother called from the couch, a smile on her face as she looked fondly at the dancing couple.

“You should invite your boyfriend to dance too!” Ryan -Remus and Roman’s little cousin- piped up, grinning innocently at them from where he was playing on his switch.

Ethan stiffened just slightly, feeling a twinge of panic come to life in his chest -dancing with Remus to such a romantic song? He was pretty sure he would end up doing something very stupid like act on his feelings, and he was not quite ready to face the following rejection just yet.

“Ry, I’m pretty sure Roman might kill me if I were to steal his spotlight right now,” Remus shot back, using the arm he had around Ethan’s shoulder to give him a reassuring squeeze.

Ethan felt his heart skip a beat at the small gesture, once again melting inside at the way Remus did everything in his power to keep him from anything that could make him uncomfortable.

“You still want to, though!” Ryan snickered.

“Never said I didn’t,” Remus answered, rolling his eyes at his cousin’s attempts to embarrass him.

Ethan knew it was all fake. He knew Remus was just playing the part, that there was no truth in his words. And yet, he couldn’t stop the way his heart fluttered at the other’s words, eyes widening just slightly as he looked up on instinct.

Big, big mistake.

Remus stared back, blinking down at Ethan in surprise. Their faces were barely inches apart, mismatched eyes drowning in green as Ethan’s heartbeat thundered in his chest. He couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered briefly to Remus’ lips, their breaths intermingling with how close they were.

God, he really wanted to kiss Remus. All he needed was to lean up just a little bit, to erase those few inches left and get it over with.

“Ew, are you two gonna kiss??”

Ethan reeled back, almost falling with his back to the ground with the force of the sudden movement. Remus looked at him in confusion and something else shining in his eyes, making Ethan’s heart do somersaults in his chest as his mind reeled with a thousand thoughts.

“I need-” he choked out, ignoring the sudden worry in his friend’s gaze as he stumbled to his feet. “Sorry, I think I need some air.”

And he walked out of the room, barely keeping himself from running towards the back porch until he was out of sight.

God, he should have never agreed to this.

+++

Ethan didn’t turn around as he heard the door that led to the back porch slide open, keeping his eyes fixed forward while hugging his knees closer to his chest.

“Can I ask you something?” Remus asked, sitting down beside him.

“You already did,” Ethan muttered in response, not quite able to stop the twitch of his lips as Remus’ laughter filled the air. Damn him and his hopeless crush.

“No but seriously, can I?”

Ethan sighed, shrugging. “Yeah, I guess you can.”

“Were you going to kiss me, back there?”

Ethan stiffened, still refusing to look at Remus as he picked at the hem of his pants.

“I…” he started, searching for the right words. On one side, he could deny everything, blame it on wanting to keep up with their ruse until he could maybe convince himself of it too. But on the other hand… he was getting tired of lying.

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be a lie,” he finally whispered, low enough Remus had to strain his ears to catch it.

Silence filled the air, stretching on for the longest seconds of Ethan’s life. And then, Remus chuckled.

“And what if it wasn’t?” he asked, making Ethan’s head snap up and whip around to look at him.

“What…?”

“Honestly E, you should be the one with the braincell between us!” Remus grinned, eyes twinkling under the setting sun in a way that made Ethan’s heart stutter in his chest. “Man, and here I thought I was being too obvious!”

Ethan’s mind was reeling, trying to get his head around the meaning of Remus’ words.

“But- You-” he tried, waving his hands around in frustration as he tried to formulate a coherent sentence.

Remus chuckled, reaching out with one hand to cup the other’s cheek. “Can I kiss you, E?”

Ethan froze, words dying in his throat as he processed the question. Then, he nodded, cheeks flaming red as he subtly leaned into the contact.

And then they were kissing, soft and sweet as the sun slowly fell over the horizon just in front of them. Ethan clutched at Remus’ shirt, sighing through his nose as he melted in Remus’ arms.

“So,” Remus murmured once he drew back, grinning from ear to ear, “ready to head back in, boyfriend?”

Ethan hummed in thought, suddenly leaning forward to steal another quick kiss before pulling back with a smirk.

“Why, boyfriend, I believe I am.”

#sanders sides #dukeceit #deceit sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #fake dating au #kissing #dukeceit fluff #ts fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction #maxiswriting

318 notes · View notes

somedayonbroadway · 4 years

Note

wAIT I REALLY WANNA HEAR YOUR OFFICE AU IM VERY CURIOUS LOL

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

Yes!!!!! Fun story, I did this one once, but I didn’t like it at all, so I’m redoing it now and I’m stoked!

The Office AU

Characters

Jack Kelly — Jim Halpert

Katherine Plumber — Pam Beesley

Spot Conlon — Dwight Schrute

Racetrack Higgins — Angela Martin

Albert DaSilva — Andy Bernard

Morris Delancey — Ryan Howard

Henry — Kelly Kapoor

Hannah — Meredith Palmer

Medda Larkin — Phyllis Vance

William Hearst — Stanley Hudson

Oscar Delancey — Oscar Martinez

Darcy — Toby Flenderson

Obadiah Weisel — Creed Bratton

Specs — Darrel Philbin

Crutchie Morris — Erin Hannon

Todd Kloppman— Michael Scott

Okay so…

Jack Kelly

A salesman at a local paper company, a job he originally sees himself as getting out of fairly quickly despite sticking around for ten years.

He’s a talented, but insecure artist, longing to go to school for art and eventually make a living off of his work

Growing up, Jack has two older brothers who are difficult to get along with as they both were jocks and loved to pick on him

Also growing up, Jack had an abusive father and a mother who walked out on him at a very young age.

Upon beginning to work at Dunder Mifflin, Jack finds himself falling for the quiet receptionist

Finding out that said receptionist is and has been engaged, he starts on the hardest waiting period of his life

Jack is the prankster of the office, choosing mostly to blow off his actual work and mess with his desk mate Sean whom he calls “Spot” just to mess with him more

This catches on until the whole office calls Sean “Spot”

Jack often gets bored as he claims that he hates his job and is looking for ways around actually doing it, especially in the beginning

He’s a huge baseball fan, though he admits he wasn’t a huge fan of playing sports even though he was on several teams in high school, as he wanted to be able to match his brothers’ accomplishments.

His sarcasm is a sort of escape from the world around him.

Does not like costumes very much

Everybody loves Jack except for Spot, who is convinced that Jack is his worst nemesis.

It takes Jack a long time to admit his feelings for Katherine, the receptionist he’s fallen in love with, and when he does, he is overall rejected, prompting him to request a job transfer

Eventually moving on, Jack ends up dating one Davey Jacobs from another branch of the company before that branch is closed and he’s moved back

He’d always been scared about being openly bisexual, but he liked Davey

Eventually, he realizes that despite liking Davey, he’s still very much in love with Katherine and breaks up with the other man, asking Katherine out on a date.

Davey eventually becomes his best friend

After asking Katherine out finally, the two end up staying together and getting married

Jack proposes at a gas station in the rain when he eventually goes away to art school for three months

Together, Jack and Katherine have two kids.

They find out they’re pregnant on accident before they are married

He often lives spontaneously, never running anything by anyone and hoping for the best

Eventually becomes one of the most trusted people within the company

Is forever devoted to Katherine

His father dies before his wedding and Jack can’t bring himself to cry and, when faced with going back into his childhood home, finds he can’t do it

Becomes protective of his friends, including his coworkers (especially Crutchie once he begins working there)

Is attacked at one point by Katherine’s ex-fiancé

Is very soft and romantic

Is often teased for being bi, especially by the “traditionalists” in his office who claim he practically has slept with everyone in the office

Brushing things off fairly easily, again using sarcasm and jokes to mask his feelings

Is slightly protective of Henry who is very young and naive and continuously goes back to a relationship that is toxic for him

Finds humor in any situation he can.

Genuinely likes to make people happy and will do a lot to make that happen

Katherine Plumber

Is shy and quiet when she starts working at Dunder Mifflin

Is often referred to as boring and solemn

Is in an endless, slightly abusive relationship that she’s convinced is meant to be for eight years, ever since high school.

Grows up as an only child with well off “normal” parents who end up divorcing each other when she and Jack are engaged

Is the “hottie” of the office and is one of the few women who work there, the youngest actually

Jack often has to subtly get people to stop harassing her

She enjoys writing and even has her own blog and publishes her own journals online. Jack reads every single one of them

Is very close with her mother and has a strained relationship with her father who does not like Jack and likes her previous fiancé better

Katherine is very meek and shy towards the beginning of her career, but often gravitated towards Jack because he brought out the humorous, adventurous side of her

Had been dating the same man since her freshman year of high school, despite him bringing his brother on their first date and abandoning her at a basketball game having forgotten about her.

Despite being engaged for three years, she often jokes that there’s no end in sight

Tries to convince herself that Jack is like her brother in the beginning to deny her own feelings for him

Jack teaches her how to fight, telling her that she’s a woman who often walks alone in New York City and she needs to have some training on her side

She comes from a rich family who she denies funds from in an attempt to be independent.

After Jack admits his feelings for her, she lets him kiss her, resulting in her calling off her wedding without explanation

Losing touch with Jack for a long few months, Katherine finds herself wanting to be more assertive, saying what she wants and making sure she gets it

Realizing she’s in love with Jack after seeing and accidentally picking up a call from him over the months he was gone, she embarks on a waiting period similar to Jack’s as Jack is in a relationship with Davey and she fears it will never end

Davey and her actually end up becoming pretty good friends, and after Jack and Davey break up, he becomes a sort of confidant and best friend to the both of them. After a while, obviously. David’s not too happy with Kath after Jack breaks up with him

During Jack’s relationship with David, Katherine ends up going back to her ex, lasting for a while before she wants to be honest with him.

She tells him about Jack’s kiss resulting in him having a hissy fit and starting a bar fight and later attacking Jack at their workplace.

Jack and Katherine start to grow closer again after this

Once they start dating, Katherine starts to break through her shell

When Jack goes away to art school she’s disappointed he didn’t propose to her but ends up accepting his proposal when meeting him halfway

She finds out she’s pregnant after twisting her ankle playing volleyball, which she’s rather good at, at a company picnic before the wedding

Jack and her run away from their own wedding when things go wrong and get married on a boat before having the wedding they planned

While going into labor, Katherine admits she’s terrified and sees herself as unfit to be a mother before Jack promises her that they’re in this together

She has two children with Jack

Her and Race have a strained relationship despite the fact that they both constantly try to be friends

While she often helps Jack on his pranks with Spot, she is kind to Spot and is one of the only people who knows about his secret relationship from the start

When Jack starts a business that takes off in Santa Fe, she and him begin to fight but eventually get over their single rough patch and end up drawing closer together

She stands up for herself and her family above all else

Spot Conlon

Is a born and raised traditionalist according to everyone else

Lives on a beat farm

Believes that there are strict rules for men and women that should be followed as he’s basically been brainwashed since he was born

Is in an on again off again relationship with a man, which he is at first ashamed of, as men were not supposed to sleep with other men

Is a purple belt in karate

Is the highest ranking salesman at Dunder Mifflin

Believes his biggest nemesis to be Jack who is constantly trying to prank him in various ways, ranging from simple and childish to well thought out and expertly orchestrated

Main goal in life is to become the manager at Dunder Mifflin despite being loyal to the current manager who’s not quite as big an idiot as Michael Scott is

Is named Assistant Regional Manager but if often referred to as Assistant to the Regional Manager

Volunteer Sheriff’s deputy for a while

Wants to be the leader of his workplace but would also do what needs to be done in order to protect his coworkers at any cost (ex: saving Jack from getting beaten to a pulp by Kath’s ex)

Is an expert paintball player

Falls in love with the head of accounting (his on again off again relationship) and is actually able to make his partner happy

Had a somewhat abusive and distant father and basically raised himself and his younger cousin Vince

Spot enjoys having control over things, making life a bit harder for the people around him as he enjoys acting as somewhat of a vigilante.

Is in a relationship with the head of accounting, Race, until he murders Race’s cat and is dumped, sending him spiraling into depression

Upon this break, Race starts dating and gets engaged to Albert DaSilva, a salesman who came back with Jack

Towards the end of that engagement, Spot wins Race back in the event of having an affair before both Spot and Albert have enough and walk away

Eventually Spot ends up in a relationship with a friend of Katherine’s named Riddle (@bexlynne’s amazing OC)

Moves from this relationship back to Race after a while and then back again until eventually realizing that Race is the only one for him and running Race off the road to propose to him.

Regards Katherine as his best friend despite her marrying his worst enemy

He loves Katherine’s kids who grow up calling him “uncle Spot” against Jack’s wishes

Learns sign language for his boyfriend

Knows German as he mostly spoke German growing up

Is fairly closed off

Will do anything to protect the people he cares about

Racetrack Higgins

The head of accounting at Dunder Mifflin

Raised in a very religious home for most of his life before being moved around in different foster homes, most of which were bad

Is mostly deaf with one hearing aid that allows him to work normally even though he often shuts the thing off to actually concentrate

Learns sign language from a teacher at his school who wants him to be able to actually communicate in a proper way that he can easily understand.

Is often cold towards people who talk down to him or talk slower so he can try to read their lips

Owns several cats

Head of the party planning committee

Craves validation

Is perceived as homophobic before his romance with Spot Conlon is found out by Katherine

Has a strained relationship with Katherine who he constantly tries to be friends with when he’s in a good mood.

Bottles up his emotions as best he can out of force of habit

Hates people who put their relationships on display as he views it as indecent

Is unapologetic

Is in an on again off again relationship with Spot Conlon who often calls him “Monkey”

After this relationship officially ends for the first time, he is asked out by Albert DaSilva

Accepting this, he finds he’s easily annoyed by Albert but likes how sweet the man can be when he tries

Eventually Race begrudgingly accepts a proposal from him, one that spoils Jack and Kath’s original plan for a proposal

Has an affair with Spot towards the end of the engagement, leaving Spot and Al to fight over him in an old fashioned duel

Jack finds Race crying in the bathroom and looks up the signs to promise he won’t tell anyone

Race connects with the receptionist that takes over for Katherine, as Crutchie also grew up in the foster system, but has a much more positive outlook on life

Race tries to protect him, much like the rest of the office

Later, after Spot’s next relationship, they end up sleeping together again only for Spot to move on eventually

Race is later hit on by a politician who eventually asks for his hand in marriage.

Race agrees, only to later find out that the man was in love with someone else and eventually get dumped and kicked out.

Oscar, whom Race has never truly gotten along with, offers to put Race up while he gets back on his feet, resulting in Race admitting to him that he’s still in love with Spot

When Spot runs him off the road to propose to him, he gets down on one knee and signs to him, making Race cry

Race and Spot adopt a son together and live on Spot’s farm

At the wedding, Jack is Spot’s best man, Katherine is Race’s

Oscar is named their son’s godfather

Race has a really hard life that he refuses to open up about, but he turns out alright in the end

If you’d like to hear about more characters or see any scenes, just let me know!

24 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 5 years

Text

A World of Our Own Pt.04

Falling Hard

08/20/2019

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 3,790

Masterpost Warnings: Language, pining, incapacitated Bucky

A/N: This one is a little on the shorter side for me. I can’t remember the last time I wrote a chapter this short. Not much happens event wise but a lot happens. It really does. I hope you all like this chapter, I wasn’t feeling myself as a writer while writing this. Just being hard on myself I think. Anywho, let me know what you like about it if you feel so inclined. As always, if you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

“Hey!” You point at him, glaring at him as he places his hands against the blanket you’d laid out for him. You’d made sure to put it in the shade, half on the small tufts of grass that edge out from the denser tree line and half on sand. “Sit down.”

“I’m fine!” Bucky argues.

“No, you aren’t, Bucky. I just wrapped up your calves and if you get up, I swear I’m not feeding you today.” You threaten, your chest heating up in anger as he drops back onto the blanket.

He laughs, then throws himself back onto the blanket and continues to chuckle.

“That’s my bacon. I killed it.” He argues, but he’s laughing so it’s a pretty flimsy argument.

“I don’t care. If you get up, I strike.”

“Fine.” He chuckles one last time, then turns those impossibly blue eyes on you, lazily rolling his head until he can do so.

They sparkle with jade at the very center. An ocean green that dazzles and reminds you of last night before your surprise visitor had shown up.

Had he kissed you? You want to ask him but…

“Okay. I got the logs placed down by the trough.” This new voice is less deep than Bucky’s but pleasant and accented.

You turn away from the section of boar you’ve been stripping fat away from, hands dripping with new and dried blood.

“Thank you. I’m sorry to ask.” You bite your bottom lip, staring with remorse at the other surprise visitor from last night.

The second pilot. Technically the Co-Pilot. He’s tall—like Bucky—with golden hair. Straw blonde, big lovely curls and waves, slightly outgrown because of the time spent on the island. His scruff is shorter than Bucky’s slightly darker than the hair on his head but only by a slight shade.

He’s still wearing his pilot’s pants, but they’re cut off. Torn into shorts by hand and the cut makes them fray.

He stands facing you, his previously white and now permanently gray button-up pilot’s shirt is drying on a low palm. His plain white t-shirt is also drying leaving him shirtless as he sweats with the workload you’d asked him to do.

Too much for him, you realize as he stands gasping before you. His chest rising and falling with his labored breathing.

He’s chiseled, like Bucky. Deep cuts that shape his pecs, abs, and arms. You’d have to be blind not to notice the utter Adonis that he is. He must have been very into working out before the crash.

He seems plucked from the deepest recesses of your dreams. The fantasy man that could never possibly exist in the world. That’s Ryan.

Unlike Bucky—who is so beautiful there is no way you could have even fathomed his image to wish for him— there’s also a slight sallowness to his muscles. They’re sturdy but Ryan looks more like you. He’s a regular human. Your bodies are not reacting so well to being on the island for so long.

There’s nothing particularly wrong with either of you, but your bodies have changed. You’ve gotten leaner, thinner. Only the muscles you use constantly are hard and supple.

Ryan looks at Bucky and then at you, hands finding his hips. He shakes his head, a small curve of his lips changes his face entirely. The deep speckled brown of his eyes twinkle with something you don’t recognize.

Amusement? He looks down at his feet then back up at you.

Is he blushing?

“Don’t apologize. I’m happy ta help.” His accent falls pleasantly in your ears and your lips smile back in reaction. “Was there anything else ya needed me for?” He shifts on his feet, fidgeting as his cheeks burn.

“Um…” Yes. Tons.

With Bucky out of commission you suddenly realize how much he does. However, Ryan isn’t Bucky and he probably won’t he able to do half the things he does.

“No.” You lie.

“Are ya lying? Because there’s a small twitch just there in the left corner of yer lip that tells me ya are.” Ryan teases, his smile wider and playful.

You reach up to touch that corner of your mouth then remember there’s blood on your hands so you freeze. With heated cheeks that have nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the beach, you look down at your sliced meat.

“You’ve done enough.” You assure him, stealing a glance at him.

He’s still smiling. Flirting shamelessly and you can’t fathom why.

Okay…so you’re the last woman in his world. Sure. But…

There’s a tug at your elbow and you turn to look at Bucky.

“Where'd you learn to make jerky?” He asks, and though he tries to focus on you, he steals a glance at Ryan. Eyes shifting nervously between the two of you.

“Back before the Snap my friends and I would go camping. It was fun. My boyfriend back then taught me how to do it. He loved camping. But…after the blip…well, they’re all older now. They’re doing their thing.” You try not to think about what you came back to.

Bucky sees the shift of sorrow on your face but before he can say anything, your co-pilot speaks.

“Oh, are ya making jerky with my pursuer?” Ryan asks, moving towards the two of you with slow but determined steps.

You look back at Ryan as he begins to kneel down beside you.

He’s on one knee when Bucky speaks again.

“Hey, there is something you could do. I usually gather some fruits around this time to have with dinner. Why don't you go do that so Y/N won’t have to?” Bucky suggests.

Ryan stops, looks from Bucky who's on your right but a little behind you to you.

Bucky should be out of reach, but he’s slid down on the blanket to sit at its bottom edge, legs mostly in sand so that he can reach out and touch you.

Hence, the tug on your sleeve.

“Oh. Is that true, Y/N?” Ryan asks you, curious.

“Y-yes. Of course. I-" You stutter.

“What? You think I’m lying?” Bucky challenges, his voice dropping in octave and his face as stoic as when you first met him.

There’s no reading his expression when he looks like that.

“No.” Ryan says, searching his face. “Of course not.”

He gives you a small tight smile then gets to his feet with a sigh and a slap to his knee as his obviously tired body braces on it to rise.

“Alright, I'll be back after I’ve grabbed some fruit. Which direction?” He stops, wiping his hands on the front of his knee length cut offs.

“That way. About five minutes of a walk and then three minutes in. You can’t miss the trail. We go there every day.” You smile at him, a heavy weight in your chest as he nods and walks the way you’ve pointed.

You wait until he’s far away enough that he won’t hear you speak.

“You don’t get fruit for me. Liar.” You chastise and turn to look at Bucky but he’s scooting even closer, butt on the sand as he wraps his arms around your waist.

Your breath catches in your throat, heart hammering and fluttering like an excited hummingbird’s wings.

He doesn’t see the way your face is wiped of all sensible thought. Bucky’s got his face buried against the soft flesh between your stomach and back, just above your hip.

“Thanks for trying to corroborate my lie.” He says into your side, saturating your skin with hot breath through your shirt.

Your skin erupts into chills despite the heat of the day.

“Wh-why did you lie?” You let your elbow rest behind his head, hands held up because of the blood.

Bucky looks up at you, blinking slowly before he looks at the strips of meat you’re preparing.

“I’m not ready to share you yet. You’re my stranded partner.” Bucky declares, once more knocking the wind from your lungs.

Forcing yourself to recover, you clear your throat and look at him brazenly sitting on the sand when you’d taken such care to have him sit on the blanket.

“Why are you getting your bandages dirty?” You growl, pushing past the pleasant flips his arms are giving your tummy.

“You put me too far.” He states, matter-of-factly. “Move my blanket closer, please?”

“So, what happened?” You wonder, shifting in your seat beside Bucky.

He’s on his stomach, laying with his calves on your lap, elbows supporting his torso as he lounges and watches Ryan across the fire.

Beside his hands is a little pile of stacked banana leaf pouches. Really, they’re just folded three times with the sides tucked in to hold the jerky you’d made yesterday.

Finally, you and Bucky get to take the time to really know Ryan, a whole day after he first burst through the trees of your camp.

“With the plane?” He raises his eyebrows, accented voice also rising in pitch.

You nod, tearing your eyes away from him to finish unwrapping Bucky’s bandages.

“I couldn’t tell ya.” Ryan confesses. “I know that the black box malfunctioned about an hour in flight. Then the storm tore up the plane, but we would have made it if it wasn’t for that explosion.”

You glance at Bucky, his face half hidden by his curtain of freshly washed hair.

The flicker of guilt in his expression doesn’t surprise you but you wish he wouldn’t blame himself.

Even if he is the reason that someone blew up your plane, he didn’t do it himself.

He relaxes as you slide your hand down tenderly along the hard curve of his right calf. The pads of your fingers doing so subtly so that Ryan won’t see.

He doesn’t need to know about Bucky and the plane.

When his eyes meet yours, he softens, losing the harsh glare that his conscience had summoned.

“How long were we flying off course?” Bucky turns to Ryan, his expression kinder but still a little guarded.

“How did ya know that-?” Ryan begins, brow furrowed.

“I’ve flown before.” He admits and in surprise you look at him.

“You have?” Your own curiosity is piqued as you begin to adjust the collection of Bucky Barnes facts that you’ve filed away to paint a clearer picture of who he is.

This man so soft suddenly under your touch. He looks at you and nods.

“When?”

“You’re a pilot?” Ryan cuts in, curious too.

“Not exactly.” Bucky admits, shifting so that he’s on his side but you reach up and push him back towards the left, hand curling around the shockingly rock muscles of his thigh.

“I’m not done with you yet.” You scowl, and slowly he settles back onto his stomach.

“So, you did it the wrong way?” Ryan asks, clearly disapproving that Bucky probably learned to fly without getting a license in the process.

“I didn’t have a choice.” Bucky replies, his voice even and calm, unoffended by the accusation in Ryan’s.

“Oh.” You whisper, realizing when he must have learned to fly.

You turn your gaze back to his calves and slide both bandages away. Gasping, you finger the puckered pink line, nearly completely healed. You hadn’t realized just how fast his body healed. No wonder he never gets sick and still looks as healthy as he did when you crashed here.

You continue to trace the wound, pretty sure it won’t even scar, and realize you’re smiling when you look towards his face and find him smiling softly too.

“So, how long?” Bucky reiterates, tearing his blue eyes away from you and back to Ryan.

“How long did we travel off course?” Ryan clarifies, leaning back against a piece of palm driftwood that you and Bucky had found some time ago.

Scratching his chin, beard probably making him itch, Ryan screws up his face as he ponders.

“Abou’ four hours? Perhaps longer? It was honestly just one thing malfunctioning after the other. It’s like someone had planned for the plane to go down.”

Of course, someone wanted to bring the plane down. You’re not sure how into the fold you want to bring Ryan. He’s been very nice and grateful for Bucky saving his life the past two days, but you don’t know him.

You try not to let the time flying off course worry you. “What happened? To you, I mean. We crashed and you…?”

Ryan continues to scratch underneath his chin. Bucky watches the movement. You continue to trace the puckered line of skin on Bucky’s calves and he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to move.

“Well, I landed in the water. I don’t know how I ended up so far but when I came to, I was soaking wet, layin’ face down on the beach of a small cove. There was a cave there and at first, I was too terrified to go in but when the weather changed, I had no choice.

“The hurricane hit, and I retreated into just the entrance but as the water in the cove rose, I was driven further and further inside. I thought I would find some animal, y’know? Get attacked and die there but instead I found myself coming out in the jungle at the other end of that cave.

“It’s like a long tunnel. I stayed there for several weeks. Sleepin’ in the cave but usin’ the jungle to forage for food.”

He must not have found much. You look his body over again. He’s wearing his t-shirt at least but even through it you can see the bulging curves of his arms. He’s fit.

Desperately you try to remember what he looked like before. He must have been bigger. He could have only lost muscle mass on the island.

“Then a few nights ago that monster raided my camp.” He says, pointing at the piles of jerky Bucky wrapped up for you.

“So, you didn’t know we were here?” You wonder, ceasing your tracing to simply hold Bucky’s calf.

You’re so aware of each inch of skin you’re touching.

“No. I thought I was the only survivor. You two are kind of a miracle for me. I thought I was going to die on this island alone.” His confession is genuine. The sheepish look he gives you and Bucky in turn is full of hope.

The idea of being on this island without Bucky had been so terrifying, you can understand what it was he’d been struggling with and for three months! You’d have gone crazy.

“We should divvy up the jerky.” You give Bucky’s calf a squeeze and he grabs them in stacks of two before offering them to Ryan, you, and keeping a small stack for himself.

There’s an extra one and you’re about to tell Bucky to keep it for himself because he’ll need it. He does a lot of the work around here, but he holds it out to Ryan before you can.

You watch as Ryan’s eyes widen a little. “Oh, no. You should take it. If the things that Y/N has told me about the work you do around here, you’ll need it more than I do.”

“Take it.” Bucky insists, no room for arguing. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

Bucky’s accelerated healing, the peak condition he seems to stay in, his near relentless stamina—he can handle less food, but you really want to give him everything. Cook him a steak. Buy him some pizza. French fries. Toast. Pancakes. Omelets. Tacos. Roast. A big beer. Does he like beer?

“Do you like beer?” You suddenly gasp.

Bucky blinks, confused, eyes on you. Ryan, leaning over taking the offered jerky packet also stares at you in confusion.

“What?” Bucky asks, a quiet chuckle making his voice rumble.

“I-” You stutter, slightly surprised at yourself for just coming out with it. “Nothing. I’m going to bed.”

“Wait,” Bucky protests, moving to get up but you lift his calves and fold them up towards his butt which pushes him back down and he gives a small oof. “Y/N.”

You scramble up, eager to get out of sight so that you can fret and be flustered alone.

“Good night.” You call back towards the two men.

“G’night.” Ryan replies, still sounding confused.

“Y/N!” Bucky calls again but you duck into the fuselage where you can’t be seen.

*****

Bucky’s heart is still pounding.

Sitting across from Ryan, Bucky’s distracted state doesn’t worry him. He doesn’t care what Ryan thinks.

That look in your eyes when you’d asked him if he liked beer…it was just a question. A simple yes or no question that he could have answered quickly but there was more in that question. More behind it.

That nervous look on your face after. The way you’d run away. Bucky wants so desperately to follow after you, but he can’t. Last night had been torture. Tonight, will also suck.

With Ryan here, and you the only woman, things suddenly feel different. Sleeping with you in the fuselage means something different now that he’s here so he’s been sleeping out here with him.

“Have you two been together since the crash?” Ryan’s query pulls Bucky from his thoughts, his heart slowly settling.

“Yeah. We were sitting together when the plane went down.” Bucky nods, watching the new addition settle against the driftwood.

“You two seem close.” Ryan observes. “Really close.”

“Almost dying with someone can do that.” Bucky shrugs. “We are.”

“You think she likes ya?”

Bucky’s limbs freeze, his heart in sudden arrest. What is this guy asking? “Of course, she does. After three months together, it would be weird if she didn’t like me. I like her to.”

“No.” Ryan shakes his head, settling in on the floor, small blanket pulled up along his chest.

He yawns, shutting his eyes as he gives in and Bucky can see his body relaxing, muscles melting despite the hard surface of the ground. Ryan isn’t used to the work that you and Bucky have been doing, the routine you’ve got going.

“I mean, does she have a boyfriend off the island? A husband? Someone waitin’ for her back home?” Ryan clarifies and Bucky really didn’t need it but he’s glad to have it.

He’s very tempted to say yes. That you’re taken in some way officially. That Ryan can’t have you…but…

“No.” He shakes his head, “She’s alone. I think there’s an ex in the city where we were going but no one she’s currently with.”

“I see.” Ryan says sleepily, a slow stretch of his lips curling his golden beard. “Good.”

Bucky frowns.

“Good…” Ryan repeats, dozing off.

Bucky sits there, staring at their intruder because that’s what he is.

Running his flesh hand through his hair, Bucky stresses over knowing he shouldn’t resent Ryan. He’s like them. A survivor. Human. He knows that they need each other. He knows that he should welcome him and make room for him but…not with you.

You’re special. You’re his survivor buddy. That doesn’t mean anything does it? That doesn’t claim you as his own. Bucky doesn’t want to think it. He can’t let himself think it. It’s only been days since you found out about who he really is but with your reaction to that news, more than ever he feels pulled towards you.

But he has no claim to you! He can’t even call you his survivor buddy anymore because there’s more survivors now. There’s fucking Ryan!

“Damn it.” Bucky whispers, irritated and not completely sure why.

Ryan rolls away from Bucky, tucking himself in against the driftwood beside him.

This is his chance.

He props his leg up, resting his arm on his knee as he considers Ryan for a few more seconds.

Fuck this.

He gets up, moving silently towards the fuselage. He places each step carefully. Each movement calculated and readjusted until he reaches the fuselage.

Inside, he can see you laying on his side of the makeshift bed. You’re asleep, your face twisted into a small frown as you curl up into yourself.

You look so small, alone in your bed, and Bucky had only thought to come in and make sure you’re alright but instead he’s kneeling on the edge before he even makes the conscious decision to do so.

With a sleepy groan you turn towards him, sleepily opening your eyes to stare up at him.

“Whassa matter?” You ask him groggily.

“Nothing, kitty cat. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Bucky sighs, relieved that you’ve been sleeping since you left them around the fire.

He watches you blink slowly, sleep attempting to pull you under once again but you’re fighting it.

“M’fine.” You whisper, “’R you gonna leave me again?”

The way those words make Bucky’s chest cave in astounds him. It hurts but it also makes him wanna smile.

“No.” He quickly lays himself down, facing you.

You’re scooting towards him before he’s even completely down and he pulls you into his arms as you bring your hands to rest against his chest. You wrap your bare legs through his, pulling him closer so that he might wrap you up tighter.

“We’re gonna need two rooms in the hut.” Bucky realizes, whispering against your hair.

“You’ll be in mine, right?” You ask him, tilting your head up to look at him. “I don’t wanna sleep alone, Bucky.”

Frowning, Bucky watches your sleep dazed and sweet expression. His mind flashes with the nearly forgotten memories of a dozen different female lips pressed against his own and none of them had looked as tempting as yours in this very moment.

“Aren’t you afraid of me?” He’s nearly ready to be heartbroken when you say yes, but then you wouldn’t be letting him hold you like this, would you?

“Why would I be afraid of you?” You ask, genuinely confused.

Bucky almost loses it when you reach up with your right hand to press it against his cheek, then bury your face against his neck. He can nearly feel your lips ghosting against the skin of his Adam’s apple and if you weren’t so sleepy, he might be tempted to admit what he’s been so reluctant to admit.

“You’re my Bucky.” You whisper, voice drifting off into slumber.

Damn it.

There’s no way he can keep denying this. He wants you. He needs you. You and your fragility and your weaknesses and your temper and your inability to listen when you’ve got your mind set on something.

Bucky knows that there’s no denying it anymore.

He likes you. He likes you a lot.

Holding you tighter, he finally relents, “You’re mine too, kitty cat. All mine.”

Buy Me a Coffee!

Forever Tag List - CLOSED! @jessieray98 @crist1216 @rainbowkisses31 @xxloki81xx @the-wayward-robot @quokkatrash @tiffanynguyen03 @basementcafe @kind-sober-fullydressed @moli1497 @badassbaker @awkwardfangirl2014 @shield-agent78 @supernaturaldean67 @sea040561 @jewelofwinter @this-side-of-midnight5 @sebbystanlover-vk @just4muggles @death-unbecomes-you @lilulo-12 @whosmarisaaarw @hiddles-rose @pandazlazykid @alagalaska @theonelittleone @xlittlestarling @moonlessnight14 @natura1phenomenon @pineapplebooboo @spaghettirogers @dsakita @sincerelytlh @booklover2929 @lovefreylove @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @vulpecula-minor @the-real-mary-jane @babytrollgirl @wildefire @fairislesheets @mother-of-fire-snakes @xrosegoldwolfx @queenoftheunderdark @mrsdeanwinchester19 @thefridgeismybestie @mcuwillbethedeathofme @peaceinourtime82 @baebeepeach @teller258316 @juustpeachy420 @libbymouse

A World of Our Own - CLOSED! @photography-to-all @badassbaker @when-bucky-smiles @kulteule @void-imaginations @hiken-no-stark @buckybarneshairpullingkink @littlemissporter @wintersgirl69 @the-goddess-of-mischief @guera31 @moonstruckhargrove @twentysomethingloser92 @mrsdeanwinchester19 @sarcasm-myfriend @hardygal69 @allonszassbutt @31shadesofbrown @marvelzme @postredetucora @blindedbyyourgrace17 @the-soulless-spider @let-bucky-say-fuck @aveatquevale- @loudherobanditgarden @cookies186 @mmyepic @wiplop @mrsgoodnight @i-fear-neither-death-nor-pain @minorchorde @space-helen @viarogers @creepylittlemarvelgirl @ultimatesadboi @mysticallandmaker @marvelrevival @wxstedhexrt @capwinterbarnes @jensfolly @past-perfect-future-tense @kiki5283 @fanfictionjunkie1112 @mightymissmarvel @bva14 @obama-mia @chubby-dumplin @the-yellow-girl96 @amazonianbeauty @chuumimi @fairytaleprincess8314 @katecolleen

Bucky Taglist @mood-pancakes @polar-bear-pjs @darkdragonpheonix @sebbbystaaan @lostinthoughts23

850 notes · View notes

canyousevmyheavydirtysoul · 5 years

Text

Cape Town. (Chapter 6) (Ryan Ross x Reader)

Note: It’s been more than five months since I’ve updated this and quite frankly, I am disgusted with myself. Thank you for being so patient. x

~Monday, 22 March 2009~

“What the…” Ryan awoke with a start, shooting into an upright position as he felt something press against his leg.

His hair was totally messed up from being pressed against the pillow, and his eyes were still swollen almost shut with sleep. He rubbed his fingers over them and groaned, trying to wake himself up.

When his body finally processed that he was awake and his vision cleared, he noticed the presence of his bandmates gathered around his bed with Brendon sitting practically on top of his legs, and he felt the anger well up inside of him.

“What the fuck, you guys?” he croaked angrily. The swelling in his eyes might’ve gone down, but his morning voice remained.

“Ryan,” Brendon spoke softly before pausing, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath – all for dramatic effect, “this is an intervention.”

The guitarist scrunched up his face and groaned in agony as he unsuccessfully attempted to literally kick Brendon off of the bed. “Piss off. Let me sleep.”

“George Ryan Ross The Third-“

“I’m gonna fucking punch you.”

“-as your bandmates – but more importantly, as your best friends – we decided to call for this event because we’ve noticed an alarming change in your character. Over the course of the past eleven days, you’ve managed to give in to the sweet temptation of a ‘vacation fling’ and turned yourself into a lovesick puppy. We’re here to put an end to it.”

“Uh huh,” Ryan drawled with a bored expression as he leaned against the headboard, “And how exactly are you planning on doing that?”

“That…” Brendon turned up his nose. “Is not for you to know.”

“So you have no plans, then.”

“Actually,” the singer scoffed at his friend and casted an offended look, “we have tons of plans, thank you very much.”

“So nothing, then.”

“Fine! We have nothing, okay?!” Brendon snapped, tossing his hands in the air exasperatedly as Ryan sniggered along with Spencer and Jon. The singer turned to toss a filthy look at the drummer and bassist, who were supposed to be backing him up; the two cleared their throats and displayed neutral facial expressions, while Brendon turned back to Ryan and began pleading desperately. “Ryan, come on, man. Please just recognise that you’re making a huge mistake with this whole (Y/N) thing!”

“Nothing involving (Y/N) is a mistake,” Ryan retorted with a frown.

“You see?” Brendon extended both hands out. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about! You’ve known the girl for less than two weeks and you’re already head-over-heels!”

“So what if I am? What’s the big deal?” Ryan raised his voice slightly, shifting even more upright as he gestured between his bandmates. “Everyone here likes her – we all think she’s incredible.”

“Yes, we do. Which is exactly why we don’t want to see her get hurt!”

“I’m not-“ Ryan cut himself off by sighing and squeezing his eyes shut. He wanted to argue his point but he realised that continuing with this argument would bring nothing but unnecessary effects.

“Look,” the guitarist shoved the duvet off of his body and swung his legs onto the floor as he reached out to clamp a hand on Brendon’s shoulder, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, B. Really, I do. I know that you’re just looking out for me. For both of us. But we’re both adults – we’re perfectly capable of making our own decisions, and as much as you hate it, you’re gonna have to just deal with it.”

After a long moment of silence, Brendon sighed and stood up.

“Fine,” he caved, “Do what you want. But know that I still do not approve, and this conversation changes nothing. When you’re making an ass out of yourself in front of (Y/N), don’t expect me to jump in and help.”

Ryan scoffed loudly. “You haven’t been doing that, anyway! In fact, you’ve been doing the exact opposite!”

“Yeah, well,” Brendon headed for the door, “Don’t expect me to stop doing that, either.”

~Monday, 23 March 2009~

Standing in the en suite of his hotel bedroom, Ryan grumbled and frowned at himself in the mirror as he attempted to articulate clearly and fluently.

“Soo… soos heemel op ar-aarde,” he tried, growing more annoyed at himself with every second that passed, “Soos-“

“What are you doing?”

Startling a bit since he didn’t know Jon had been watching him, Ryan whipped his head around to look at his bandmate. Jon raised a questioning eyebrow and Ryan sighed heavily.

“I’m trying to speak this sentence in Afrikaans but as you heard, I’m completely shit at it.”

The guitarist turned back to the mirror after explaining himself and resumed practicing as Jon watched in silence, leaning against the doorframe with folded arms. He watched his friend struggle for a few more minutes before speaking again.

“You’re really serious about her, huh?”

Ryan stopped reciting the string of foreign words and turned his head ever so slightly. He didn’t offer a response, though. He only twitched his lips upwards, and then went back to practicing merely seconds after.

“What does it mean?” Jon tried again, referring to the sentence Ryan was so desperately trying to perfect.

It was clear to Jon by the way that his friend turned all shades of red and started shifting his weight from one leg to the other that the translation was no doubt something unbelievably cheesy, and he rolled his eyes.

“Ry, if you’re worried about me judging you on the cheesiness of the sentence then you’re an idiot. Are you forgetting that I’ve read practically every single lyric that you’ve ever written? We’re way past judging at this point.”

As if contemplating all of his life decisions up until this point, Ryan closed his eyes and groaned loudly. Running one hand through his hair, he turned around to face Jon.

“It means: ‘You’ve made these past few days feel like heaven on earth’.”

Jon couldn’t stop the raucous laugh that erupted from his throat and just barely managed to stop himself from toppling over from laughter. Ryan, on the other hand, was not amused, and stared at his bandmate with a straight face.

“So much for no judging,” he scoffed under his breath.

Finally able to compose himself, Jon shuffled forward to pat Ryan on the back.

“Don’t worry, man. It’s the thought that counts. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

“Die, Kirstenbosch bus,” Brendon read aloud as your group strolled past one of the branded buses in the parking lot of the world-renowned Kirstenbosch National Botanical Gardens; his face screwed in confusion and he turned to give you a worried expression, “What did the bus do? Why do they want it dead?”

You and (Y/B/F) immediately erupted into a fit of giggles as the boys watched you in puzzlement. When you managed to control your laughter, you shook your head and waved your hand to show that he had misinterpreted the wording.

“That’s not what it means. ‘Die’ means ‘the’ in Afrikaans; so it actually says ‘The Kirstenbosch Bus’,” you explained, letting a few more giggles slip as you did so.

“Ohhhhhh,” Brendon made an ‘o’ with his mouth and raised his brows, “That makes so much more sense.”

“Speaking of Afrikaans,” Jon cleared his throat and not so subtly elbowed Ryan in the gut before moving from his spot next to the guitarist and striding over to walk with Spencer, Brendon and (Y/B/F), leaving you and Ryan to walk next to each other.

You tossed him a warm smile and slowed your pace ever so slightly so that both of you fell a few steps behind the rest. Ryan returned your smile, but was battling internally to get his erratic heartbeat under control; he took to readjusting his jacket just to give his hands something to do. He had hoped that you hadn’t noticed his bandmate’s earlier actions, but sadly for him, you had.

“What was that about?” you quizzed, glancing at the flushed face of Ryan.

Ryan struggled to think of a cover excuse, since he really didn’t want to admit the truth – especially since he hadn’t been expecting to so early on in the outing. But with the expectant way your friendly eyes were staring at him, awaiting a proper response, he found himself incapable of thinking on his feet, and he was left with no choice but to come clean.

“I, uh,” he nervously wrung his hands together and darted his eyes between them and your face, “I’ve been practicing… a little bit.”

Your face lit up at his revelation, and the sight alone was enough to banish all feelings of nervousness from his overhyped psyche.

“Yeah?” you smiled widely, “What’ve you learnt? Can I hear it?”

He chuckled under his breath at your eagerness and tilted his head to the side, nodding. “Yeah. It’s actually for you, so…”

“Go for it,” you urged, beaming at him.

He smiled a small smile, took a deep breath and then spoke. “Jy het hierdie afgelope paar dae soos hemel op aartappel laat voel.”

He delivered the sentence which perfect dialect and exorbitant confidence; he was convinced that he’d nailed it, and you could tell it, too. So, in order to try and minimise any damage to his feelings, you bit down hard on your lip to supress the laughter that was unforgivingly fighting to be let out.

Ryan picked up on your reaction and he frowned in perplexity over why your instinct was to laugh when he was so sure he’d spoken correctly. The rest of your group had heard his attempt at speaking the language and devastatingly for poor Ryan, (Y/B/F) wasn’t nearly as self-controlled as you were; she burst out laughing.

It was then that he realised that something was wrong, and he urgently looked between you and her, searching for an explanation.

“What?” he asked, “What’s wrong?”

(Y/B/F) was too busy laughing her ass off to even attempt to explain to the guitarist what the problem was, and you kept your mouth shut in fear that should you open it, laughter would come flooding out.

Ryan found his saviour in an elderly gentleman who had happened to be walking past your group at the time of the exchange, and the man gently placed a hand on the musician’s shoulder and leaned in to inform him of his mistake.

“It should have been ‘aarde’ instead of ‘aartappel’. You just told her that she’s made these past few days feel like heaven on a potato,” he said.

You lost it then, and a string of laughs escaped past your lips, prompting you to cover your mouth with your hand to try and silence them. Ryan stood there, having an existential crisis and wishing that the ground would open up and take him under. His cheeks were tinged a ruby color, and he tried to shrink into himself. He’d never been so embarrassed.

“Hey, no,” you willed yourself to stop laughing and cooed as you reached out for Ryan; you slowly took his hand and intertwined your fingers with his, making the tinge in his cheeks a deeper red and bringing a light flush to yours, “It’s okay; even I mix up words sometimes. It’s a tricky language. And I’d like to focus more on the thought behind it; I can’t believe you went and learnt that just for me.”

“Yeah, and I can’t believe I went and screwed it up,” he scoffed, shaking his head at himself.

You smiled sympathetically and rubbed his arm in reassurance. “Don’t worry. You’ll be borderline fluent by the end of the trip.”

The six of you leisurely strolled down the winding pathways of the gardens, with the boys turning their heads to admire all of the natural beauty and making sure to take heaps of photographs of anything and everything that they found beautiful.

For Ryan, that included you.

You'd come across a wandering baby tortoise along one of the paths and you stopped, crouching down to get a better look at it. You were fascinated by the little creature, and smiled down at it as it started moving along again; you were far too engrossed to notice that Ryan had snapped a few pictures of you.

He tucked his phone away right as you looked up at him, and he gave a closed-lipped smile as he extended a hand to help you up.

“Thank you,” you scrunched your face up in appreciation once you were upright once again.

“Don’t mention it.”

Brendon groaned audibly from behind the two of you but both of you chose to ignore him, turning into the section with a board that read ‘Fragrance Garden’.

“These are the nicest smelling plants in the garden,” (Y/B/F) told the boys before extending a hand in invitation, “Go ahead.”

The group dispersed, with everyone moving to a different plant and examining the information boards next to them. There was one plant in particular that caught Brendon’s attention, and the singer readily pointed it out to everyone.

“Ha, this one is a thirst-quenching plant,” he said, turning to smirk evilly at Ryan for a second before looking to you, “Do you know where we can buy one of these? I think Ryan needs some.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to smelling flowers, while the guitarist ground his teeth and glared at his friend, who merely sniggered before he also resumed appreciating the natural beauty.

“Mm.” Brendon peered into the soil at one paling flower that caught his attention, and began leaning in to get a waft of its fragrance. “Jasmine scented.”

Turning to check which flower he was gravitating towards, your eyes widened in shock as you spotted one of the garden’s inhabitants laying still in the soil, mere inches away from the flower.

Soundlessly, you began nudging Ryan with your elbow, trying to bring it to his attention as well. He turned around to give you a confused glance, and you silently shushed him while simultaneously pointing at the object of your attention.

Once he followed the direction of your finger and focused his gaze, he noticed it, too, and his mouth fell open in realisation. He shot you a quick, cheeky grin and you returned it before both of you resumed watching the blissfully unaware Brendon attempt to get up close to the flower.

And get close, he did. A little too close.

The miniature frog wasted no time in hopping onto Brendon’s face, causing the singer to let out a terrified shriek and tumble backwards as he tried to claw the unwelcome visitor off of his face, with you and Ryan laughing hysterically all the while.

His efforts proved successful and a couple seconds later, the amphibian hopped onto the stone path and retreated into the expanse of greenery, leaving a panting, dishevelled Brendon in its wake.

Still in shock over the incident, Brendon stood perfectly still as he stared after the creature; the only movements he made was the rise of fall of his chest with each heavy breath he drew in.

A sniggering Ryan sidled up to his friend, placed a hand around his shoulders and leaned in to whisper to him.

“You can try as hard as you like to try and mess this up for me, dude, but the universe is clearly on my side.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

Taglist:

@darknessdancing

@raversam

@username-number-01834

@untilyouburnallofthewitches

@underscoredarcy

46 notes · View notes

allthingsteenmom · 5 years

Text

MY THOUGHTS ON PT. 1 OF THE S8 TEEN MOM OG REUNION

• I can already tell I’ll cry

• TEN YEARS the fuck

• Teen Mom 3 “favorite”

• I admire the relationship the Teen Mom OG girls have developed

• Amber’s fear for Leah breaks my heart

• Maci subtly calling Mackenzie out lmao

• Dr. Drew is such a dad

• I have mixed feelings about Cheyenne’s jacket

• “daddy’s here” omfg

• Having a child with a health issue like Ryder’s (or any serious health issue) must be so scary

• “the mystery energy”

• Cheyenne shaking her head as soon as Nessa asked that question lol

• Yeah duh you got shit for not leaving vacation to be there for your very sick child and very worried baby mama/best friend

• ...Cheyenne should not have to tell Cory he needs to be there in that situation...

• YES TALK ABOUT INVISIBLE ILLNESS

• That uncertainty is terrifying

• 5 days is a long time for a toddler to be in the hospital, poor family

• Guarantee the Baltimorean segment will make me cry

• Ugh I’m waiting for that “this is gonna be a good year” feeling

• “I want you but I don’t need you” WILL ALWAYS BE SO GOOD

• I *can’t* watch/listen to the Carly stuff without crying

• YES it WAS a mic drop!

• I’m very...grateful to Catelynn and Tyler for being open about considering abortion

• Hm...that bleep did sound a lot like Tyler said n***a...

• It must be so heartbreaking for Tyler’s mom to have seen the decline in Butch’s mental health

• I was surprised to see Brandon and Theresa

• I have fertility problems. It is a very painful experience, for me especially, but also for my partner and for us as a whole

• Brandon and Theresa are so lucky to be able to afford private adoption

• Cate sounds like such a baby omg!

• God Catelynn and Tyler (and other biological-adoptee parents) are so beyond strong

• They are exceptional

• I really do feel for Mackenzie’s mom and her family

• Why would God’s plan, a God who is supposed to be merciful/just/loving/etc., be to give a loving mother an untreatable form of very deadly cancer?

• Yeah...the reason everyone else was less suppprtive...is because it was an awful situation...

• Of course you don’t want to go there, and it’s heartbreaking and unfair, but it just is

• I really appreciate Dr. Drew’s interactions with Mackenzie right now

• The idea of Maci and Bentley crying together is so heartbreaking

• Ryan doing his usual - making excuses

• I’m actually wearing a TTM shirt right now lol

• Maci is right - going to jail for not paying a bar tab is so stupid

• Good on Maci for only talking about Jen and it bringing up how we know they just feel about it on Ryan & Mackenzie’s end

• I hope Ryan is no longer friends with that “buddy”

• Lolll at Ryan’s reaction when Nessa brought up Mackenzies current pregnancy

• Mackenzie immediately looks so uncomfortable lol

• I always forget that Mackenzie is so young

• Actually though how are all of these girls so fertile??

• Maci doesn’t talk shit, she calls Ryan out

• Here we go again with Ryan’s typical lack of accountability

• What was that scoff from Mackenzie about?..

• Ryan’s face at hearing about Maci on the couch with his parents lmao

• It honestly kills me emotionally that 80% of pregnancies in young women are “unplanned” when I can’t get pregnant planned

#teen mom og #reunion

1 note · View note

bucky-at-bedtime · 6 years

Text

Familiar

Summary: Steve wanders into a record shop looking to make a dent in his to-do list. He doesn’t expect the owner to make a dent in his life.

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Guess what? more fluff.

Words: 2,800

A/n: So, I wasn’t planning on posting this but... here it is?? Thanks, @averyrogers83 - you gave me this idea and I really like how it turned out... Please give me feedback! I know this is kinda cheesy but I liked writing it. Love u all. seriously 💛💛💛 I might make this a multi-chapter thingo if it gets a good response... what do you guys think?

ALSO I only have one person on my Steve taglist so, like, feel free to shoot me an ask to be added to that?? Or any of my taglists tbh

Masterlist

The record store was in a quiet part of town, and in turn, the store was pretty much empty, aside from the clerk whose head was resting on her folded arms - possibly asleep at the counter. The shelves were covered in a thin layer of dust, occasionally broken by a fingerprint or some sign of the products being moved, and records in cardboard sleeves were scattered, almost randomly, across every surface. Many of the corners were worn and many images were faded, but there was a shelf of brand-new records to one side - records still covered in plastic wrap with vivid artwork and photography. A bell chimed quietly when he pushed the door open, but the girl sitting at the counter didn’t budge.

It felt like a place out of time - something that shouldn’t have survived so long - just like him.

As soon as Steve entered, a feeling of comfort washed over him. The familiarity of a record store - rows upon rows of vinyls and posters with torn edges - it even smelled the same. He inhaled deeply, surveying the shelves around him and looking for anything familiar. There wasn’t much, but that’s okay - he wasn’t here for his old music.

He dug into his pocket, pulling out a tattered notebook and flipping to the page with his to-do list. He let out a sigh as he stared at the list, he was pretty sure he would never catch up with the modern world, not with the amount of entertainment in the world. Not after so much time had passed.

He wandered down one isle, his fingers lightly tracing the tops of records, searching for ‘Nirvana,’ one of the bands on his list. After what felt like a very long time, his fingers finally came to a halt, drifting over the title of an album - ‘From the Muddy Banks of the Wishkah’ by Nirvana - and he quickly pulled it out, studying the cover.

“I wouldn’t go for that album,” a sweet voice interrupted his perusing and he flinched slightly at the sudden noise breaking the tranquility of the record store.

“Sorry, you just, don’t seem like you know what you’re looking for and that-” you gestured to the record in his hands, “-is Nirvana’s worst album.”

He blinked lamely at you, confused by your sudden appearance. You ignored his silence and began to flick through the record yourself. “This, is their best album.” you smiled, holding up ‘Nevermind,’ Nirvana’s second album, gesturing for him to take it.

“Uh– I didn’t realise it was so obvious. My cluelessness, I mean.” he had finally collected his thoughts, and stuttered out a response, placing the first record down and taking the one from your hands.

“Well, you were frozen in ice for 70 years or something - I connected the dots.”

“Ah, so you did recognise me,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I watch the news every once and a while.” you chuckled, picking up a few stray records, intending to sort them into their proper space.

“Right, of course,” he mumbled, a small smile gracing his features as he followed you down the isle, intending to buy the record and leave. “You uh, seem to know a lot about Nirvana. They a favourite of yours?”

“Not really. I just know a lot about pop culture. Working in a place like this - you learn a lot about music. Plus I have a lot of spare time.” you glanced back at him, watching curiously as he read the back of the record.

You assumed the conversation was over, and turned to continue working.

“Hey, wait, would you– would you be able to help me? I uh… need to try and catch up so if you have any suggestions…”

You turned immediately on your heel, grinning towards the tall blonde man. “I thought you’d never ask,” you said, excitement lacing your voice as you immediately starting to make a list in your head. “I’m y/n, by the way.”

He chuckled lightly at your excitement, a sweet smile reaching his cheeks as he watched you filter through the records in your arms, dropping the pile on the counter in front of you and pulling out two records.

“Ok, we have ‘Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band’ - The Beatles, I’m sure you’ve heard of them.” You looked up to gauge his reaction and he nodded his head in confirmation.

“Already heard a few of their songs,” he mumbled, taking the colourful record from you and adding it to the Nirvana one.

You held up the next record, a single. He stared blankly at the plain white cover, reading the title out. “Spice, Wan-abe?” His face was set in a grimace, immediately judging a book by its cover.

“The Spice Girls - Wannabe,” you corrected, laughing at his pronunciation. “It was really popular in the 90s, everybody in the world knows the lyrics to this chorus,” you mumbled, piling it on top of his other records.

He was still staring at the cover, suddenly unsure about your judgement, but he followed as you began to rush down another isle. “This place is like a maze,” he murmured, eyes trailing over the tall shelves in alarm, “How do you know where everything is?”

“I’ve been in this place pretty much every day since I was born - my dad owned it,” you explained, tracing your fingers across the spines of a few records. “I know this place like the back of my ha– here it is!”

You pulled out another record, briefly showing him the cover before thrusting it into his arms. “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road - Elton John - Really popular in the 70s, Elton John is one of the greats.”

He nodded along, slightly overwhelmed by all the information, but glad to have someone who knew what they were talking about, rather than Tony’s bias towards ‘AC DC’ and Sam’s strange addiction to 90s boy bands.

“Oh! This is what’s playing now.” You pulled a black and white album cover from a nearby shelf and pointed up, gesturing to the speakers. “The Rolling Stones - Exile on Main st.”

A breathy laugh escaped his lips as he watched you shake your head from side to side to the rhythm of ‘Casino Boogie,’ squeezing your eyes shut in enjoyment.

“You really know your stuff,” he chuckled, adding the record to his pile.

You opened your eyes and he watched as they glistened with your passion for these records - the music, the artists, the store. You were at home here, and he found himself wishing he had something like that.

You added another couple of records to his pile - Michael Jackson, Prince, Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston - before heading towards the shelf of modern music.

“Alright, there is a lot of good modern music, but there’s also a lot of bad modern music that’s really popular anyway - so I’ll try to be gentle.”

He laughed at your words and turned to watch as your fingers hovered over album titles and artists, your bottom lip pulled into your teeth.

“Uhmm, we’ll go with this.” You pulled out a dark record, holding it up to show him.

“Macklemore and Ryan Lewis - The Heist,” he read out, taking the record from your hands and studying the back of it.

You moved closer, so that you were standing next to him, your shoulder brushing against his own as you explained. “It’s rap, but some of the stuff on here is really powerful. Same Love is an amazing song about equality and homophobia and Wing$ is all about materialism and violence…”

He had stopped listening, distracted by the way you moved as you explained passionately. Your eyes had that look in them again, and he couldn’t tear his own eyes away. Your hands gesticulated, pointing to the tracklist as you directed him towards the best songs as he could see the excitement, the passion, in your movement.

He blinked, subtly shaking his head as he tuned back in.

“Oh, and ‘Cowboy boots’ is a bit of fun - good to sing along to.” you confirmed, pulling your hand away to look up at him.

“I’d like to hear that,” he mumbled, eyes widening as he realised what he’d said. He frantically tried to come up with a way to backpedal out of his statement, and he could’ve sworn he saw your eyes widen slightly, but you took it well.

“Oh trust me, you wouldn’t - I sound like a dying cat when I sing.” you laughed, taking a step back and picking up another album. “But, get a few drinks in me and I become the absolute queen of karaoke. Now that’s something you’d like to see.”

He laughed along with you, running a hand through his hair, already forgetting his awkward slip-up.

“Alright, last one.” You reached up to a higher shelf and pulled down a bright orange album. “Ed Sheeran’s first mainstream album - it broke the world back in 2011 when it came out, he’s probably the most popular male artist of recent history.”

You placed the final album gently on top of his pile, sending him an accomplished smile.

“Wow, this is a bit of a to-do list” he chuckled, staring down at the massive, colourful pile in his arms.

You laughed. “You asked, buddy.” You patter him gently on the shoulder and he could’ve sworn a shiver ran through his entire body at your touch.

“Wow it’s actually almost closing time,” you mumbled, noticing the sun going down outside and checking your watch. “I’ll ring those up for you and then close up shop.”

He followed you to the counter, watching as you carefully placed the record in a brown bag and hummed along to another song that was playing on the speaker system.

“So I’m curious,” you mumbled, pulling him from his trance, “you want to catch up with the modern world, why buy records? I’m assuming you have a phone and iTunes.”

He laughed gently at the question, the corner of his mouth twisting up. “I guess– I guess it’s just nice to have something I know. In the middle of everything so… so foreign and new, it’s uh comforting to have something… familiar.”

You felt a smile pull at your lips as you pushed the bag across the counter to him, your eyes meeting for a moment. His eyes were full of wistfulness as he looked back at you, a grateful smile on his lips.

“Well, the door’s always open,” you tilted your head towards the door, attempting to send him a comforting smile. “I mean, in a metaphorical way, not literally, I’m actually about to lock up”

He laughed, but thanked you gently. He knew it was strange, but he wanted to stay, to keep listening to you talk. your passion was exhilarating and it made him feel warm, as sappy as that sounded.

His head turned as if he was about to walk out, but he suddenly turned back to you, his mouth open as if he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“You alright there, captain?” You smirked, organising the last few things on the counter.

“Can I walk you home?” He blurted the words out, unsure of how else to phrase it and your head flicked up in surprise, your eyes wide.

“I’m sorry - that was weird, I’ll just… go.” He turned on his heel, brusquely trying to escape his awkward moment.

“No!” You flung your backpack over your shoulder and rushed around the counter to meet him. “I’d love for you to walk me home,” you stated confidently, grinning up at him.

He smiled down at you. “Alright. Alright, let’s go.”

He pulled the door open, allowing you to walk out in front of him and you smiled thankfully, brushing a hair behind your ear. He held his arm out to you once you locked the door and you looped yours underneath, chuckling lightly at his old-fashioned, gentlemanly actions.

“I have an idea,” you stated, digging your hands into your pockets and pulling out some headphones and your phone. “I’ll show you some music while we walk - some of my favourite stuff, not world-famous like the records I gave you.”

You reached up and slipped the headphone into his ear, putting the other one in your ear and scrolling through your iTunes library, clicking on your favourote song by Rex Orange County.

‘Loving is easy

You had me fucked up,

It used to be so hard to see

Yeah, loving is easy

When everything’s perfect

Please don’t change a single little thing for me’

The song started playing and you began to him along instantly, knowing it off by heart. He sent you a smile and nodded his head along to the rhythm.

“This is nice,” he mumbled, his arm falling down and his fingers subconsciously intertwining with your own, he realised what he was doing, but it was too late, and he felt a blush spread across his cheeks when you didn’t pull your hand away. “Better than anything Tony tried to show me.”

You laughed at that, tapping your thumb lightly on the back of his hand. You were a little shocked when his hand grabbed yours, but of course Steve Rogers had some moves.

‘When you can’t even hide it

And it didn’t take forever to find it

I was all on my own

Almost glad to be alone

Until love came in

On time, on time’

He felt like he was floating and he couldn’t pull the smile off of his face. His heart beat in time with the song and he felt your thumb tapping lazily on the back of his hand he watched you in the corner of his eye, trying not to get caught.

Your hair fell loosely in front of his face and if he listened closely, he could hear your voice as you quietly sang along. He didn’t think you sounded like a dying cat at all.

He’d only just met you, but he knew he wanted to keep you around.

‘So, loving is easy

You had me fucked up,

It used to be so hard to see

Yeah, loving is easy

When everything’s perfect

Please don’t change a single little thing for me’

You glanced up at him, catching his eyes as he was already looking at you. You smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

It was strange. A few hours ago, Captain America walked into your shop, looking for help with his to-do list. Now, he was walking you home, holding your hand and listening to your music. This was the kind of thing that happened in rom-coms, and suddenly it was happening to you in real-life.

His hand squeezed yours gently and you felt a blush rush across your neck, threatening to flood your cheeks. You averted your eyes, looking down at the pavement.

‘So listen girl,

When you can’t even hide it

And it didn’t take forever to find it

I was all on my own

Almost glad to be alone

Until love came in

On time, on time’

He pulled the headphone out as the song ended, and you looked back up at him, raising a brow inquisitively.

“That was... amazing, do you have his vinyl?”

“Of course I do,” you chuckled, “you’ll have to come visit me at the store sometime.” You said the words in a light-hearted tone, but you hoped with everything you had that he would come back.

“Trust me, I will.” he murmured, forcing you to smile again, the blush finally reaching your cheeks.

“Alright well, this is my place.” you gestured towards the apartment building and he nodded his head slowly in recognition.

You looked down at your connected hands and slowly released his fingers, letting your hand fall to your side.

“Thank you, for the records, and for teaching me about some of this stuff,” he mumbled, lifting the bag slightly.

You knew this was where you were supposed to say goodbye, and hope to see him again at the store, but you couldn’t just leave it at that. You had no idea where this new-found confidence came from, but you reached forward, pulling a pen out of your bag and lifting his shirt from his wrist. He was an old-fashioned guy - you decided to do something a little old-fashioned, and wrote out your number on his wrist.

When you were done, you glanced up at his shocked face, leaving towards him and pressing your lips gently to his cheek, as close to his lips as possible.

“Call me, Steve,” you whispered into his ear, brushing your fingers across his shoulder as you pulled away.

He nodded gently, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “I will, doll.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you turned away, entering your building and leaving Captain America on the side of the road.

Tags:

(If it’s crossed out, it wasn’t working)

Permanent Tags: @srgtsprout @thevillainway @redstarstan @just-add-butter @wildefire @dewy-biitch @emilia-dawn @helloitsrhys @twtwmm @comfortablenihilist @averyrogers83 @kittykat101ary @chameerah @obliviousocietea @vodkasindream @ciarawriitesmarvel @lauxeyson @mylovelymarvel @breezy1415 @xxashy999xx @movie-dates-and-choccy-shakes

Steve Tags: @benedictcumbirbatch (my only steve tag isn’t working this is sad)

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #fluff #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #cap #marvel #fic #cute #imagine #reader insert #i dont know

567 notes · View notes

rejectedusername-trashfics · 5 years

Text

RT Extra Life 1337 fic- Clear Avoidance

Summary: Gavin can read minds and tries to use that to figure out what Ryan likes. Turn’s out, both he and Ryan are idiots and it’s giving Geoff a headache.

Word Count: 1,353

Pairings: Gavin/Ryan

AO3

Gavin Free was what one would consider a clairvoyant. While he was very social and open with many, considering his job, he tended to keep is extra special ability a secret. He was a mind-reader. He could tell what people were thinking and subtly use that knowledge to annoy his coworkers and friends. The only person besides his family that knew of his ability was Geoff. Geoff knew because he was also a clairvoyant; he was an empath, feeling and occasionally manipulating the emotions of others. Gavin and Geoff were able to understand each other because of their supernatural abilities This didn’t mean their abilities didn’t annoy each other, though.

One day in fall, Achievement Hunter was filming a Let’s Play. Everyone in the group was very focused on what they doing, but Gavin seemed extra distracted. He would sneak glances at someone else, occasionally, but he seemed lost in thought otherwise. Geoff was able to pick up on something being up with him.

“Gavin,” Geoff started to think. “I’m getting strong feelings of infatuation coming off of you and you’re staring at someone and I can’t figure out who. Who do you have a crush on?”

Gavin sighed. “I can never get anything past you, can I? I have a bit of a crush on Ryan, alright?” he thought.

Geoff’s eyebrows furrowed when he was met with silence. “You know I can’t read your mind, right?” he said to remind Gavin that the mind-reading only went one-way.

“Yeah, Gavin. We can see the gears turning in your head. What’s up with you, today?” Michael asked.

“’More like the one gear,” Ryan joked.

“Rye-bread, don’t be mean,” Gavin whined.

“I’m just kidding. I know you’re very smart.”

Gavin’s cheeks blushed. Then he got up and grabbed Geoff out of the room. “Woah, why the sudden exit? Is your crush on Ryan?” Geoff asked.

Gavin’s blush deepened and he nodded. “But don’t say it out loud,” he replied, meekly.

Geoff let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re the mind-reader, right?” he thought. Gavin nodded to answer. “Then use your mind-reading abilities to figure out what he likes.”

“GEOFF YOU’RE BLOODY BRILLIANT!” Gavin squealed.

“Come on, let’s go back in the room,” Geoff said. Once the two of them got back in the room, they saw that everyone was eating pie. “Who brought pie in?”

“Caiti brought in apple pie because it was close to Thanksgiving and she thought it was a good idea,” Jack replied.

“That was nice of her.”

“I’m excited because I love apple pie,” Jeremy said.

“Me, too,” Ryan replied in agreement. “Man, I wish I had a lover to bring apple pie in for me. Or maybe peach pie. It would remind me a little bit of home,” he thought to himself.

Gavin’s eyes widened as he read Ryan’s thoughts and heard a simple first gift idea. “Don’t worry, Rye-bread. You’ll get your peach pie, tomorrow,” Gavin thought to himself in response.

The next morning, Gavin came in with a store-bought, peach pie. He walked over an placed the pie at Ryan’s desk.

“Dude, what’s the occasion for YOU bringing in pie?” Michael asked.

“No occasion,” Gavin answered.

“It’s a little early for pie, but I’ll take it,” Michael said as he walked over to the pie. When he reached for the pie and a knife to cut it with, Gavin slapped is hand away. “Dude, what gives?!”

“It’s not for YOU!”

Michael looked down and realized that it was on Ryan’s desk. “Is it for…” he started and paused when he saw that Gavin was narrowing his eyes. “Oh, I see. Well good luck with that.”

Michael when back to his desk. The rest of the Hunters piled in for the day, and Gavin eagerly waited for Ryan to show up. Gavin’s eyes lit up when he finally saw Ryan walking through the door. “Ryan, I brought you…” he started to say.

“I know it’s starting to get cold, but I brought ice cream,” Ryan announced to the room.

“P… what?” Gavin asked as he tilted his head in confusion.

“Hey, did you bring pie in, Gav? Because ice cream compliments pie,” Ryan asked.

“Ice cream and pie sounds awesome!” Jeremy cheered. This prompted Gavin to reluctantly share the peach pie around the room. Gavin groaned in defeat as the room happily enjoyed their slices of pie; he would have to find another gift to win Ryan’s affections.

Gavin tried day after day to give Ryan something that he had subconsciously wanted. But somehow, Ryan would always be one step ahead of him. When Gavin gave up on the mind-reading and just tried to ask him about things he wanted, Ryan had just started avoiding him. This upset Gavin even more.

After Gavin had given Ryan a video game that he had been excited about, but already had at home, Ryan walked over to Geoff’s desk. “Geoff, can I talk to you?” he asked him.

Geoff winced at Ryan’s emotional confusion. “Make it quick,” he replied.

“It’s just that…” he paused and lowered his voice so Gavin wouldn’t be able to hear. “Gavin’s been giving me whatever thing I’d want that randomly comes to mind and it’s a little unnerving.”

“Geoff, nothing has been working!” Gavin whined from across the room, forgetting that Ryan was there.

Ryan raised his eyebrow in confusion and Geoff groaned, again, in frustration. “THAT’S IT! I’M DONE!” Geoff yelled. He grabbed Ryan and walked over to grab Gavin. he dragged both of them out of the room and dragged them to an empty conference room. “Both of your emotional/romantic confusion is giving me a headache. Don’t come out until you two are have worked something out and have sucked each other’s dicks,” he growled as he walked out of the room and slammed the door.

“What… the hell was that about…?” Ryan asked.

Gavin let out a humph. “None of this would have happened I you weren’t so bloody dense,” Gavin thought to himself.

Ryan’s eyebrow shot up. “Dense?! How am I dense?! I’m so sorry you somehow keep knowing every little thing I want and giving it to me. It kinda freaks me out!” Ryan thought in response.

“I WAS DOING IT BECAUSE I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU, YOU BLOODY DOLT!”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Wow… you’re right. I am a bloody dolt. I had no idea….”

“I read your mind to find out what you liked and bought you all those things so you would like me back…”

“Oh… while I’m not normally a fan of affections won through material goods. I do appreciate it.”

“Your welcome. Wait…” Gavin paused and looked around in bewilderment. “Did we just have a telepathic conversation because you’re a mind-reader, too?”

“It appears that that would be the case, yes,” Ryan replied.

“Bloody hell…”

“And you know, your efforts did work in a way. Because if you did ask me out, I would say yes,” Ryan thought, to give Gavin a clue.

“Oh!” Gavin said in surprise. “Would you really want to go on a date with me?”

Ryan walked over to Gavin and grabbed his hands. “Yes, I would love to go on a date with you.” Gavin squealed with joy and jumped into Ryan’s arms. “Whoa, be careful. I won’t always be able to catch you,” he said.

“Sorry, luv,” Gavin replied with a giggle.

“Hey, it’s pretty quiet in there. Have you two sorted yourselves out?” Geoff called from outside the room.

“Yep,” Gavin replied.

Geoff opened the door to see Ryan holding Gavin. “Turns out we’re both idiots,” Ryan said.

“I could have told you that,” Geoff replied with a snort.

“Yeah, turns out that he’s like me and was reading my mind to be to step ahead of me. But we worked it out and we have a date,” Gavin explained.

“Well that explains a lot. Now let’s get back to the office,” Geoff said.

The three of them walked back to the office. Nobody understood why Gavin and Ryan stared at each other so amorously for the rest of the day.

#freewood #rt extra life #clairvoyance #ragehappy

8 notes · View notes

immalittlepandybear · 6 years

Text

Am I?

Soooooo, I’m actually posting some angst, OhmToonz angst. This story was inspired by the song FRIENDS by Anne-Marie and Marshmello and the ever beautiful writer @crimsonbluemoon

So, babe don’t read this!

Ring Ring Ring Ring!

Luke blindly reached over to his alarm clock and unplugged it. When the ringing continued, he opened his eyes and saw that it was his phone. Someone was calling him.

Luke sat up and answered the call, not even caring to look at the caller I.D. He already knew who it was, Ryan. Ry was the only one with his number.

“Yes, Ry?”

“Open up. I forgot my key.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

*click*

Luke dragged his sore body out of bed and down the stairs to their front door, him and Ryan are college roommates, but probably not for long. Ryan has gotten his degree and is in the process of moving to Chicago. He shipped everything of his there, now he just needs to get on the plane tomorrow.

Luke opened the door to a drenched Ryan.

“God Ry! You’re gonna freeze! Or get hit by lightning!” Luke scolded as Ryan rushed inside and grabbed his bunny blanket to cuddle up in. Luke decided to go and make the poor man some hot cocoa. He is lucky if he doesn’t get hypothermia.

Once Luke made the hot cocoa for Ryan, he grabbed the container and the mug and took it over to Ryan.

“Don’t forget this thing when you go. It’s just gonna rot in the cupboard if you’re not drinking it.”

“I still can’t believe you don’t like hot chocolate. You’re an alien I swear. Everyone *loves* hot chocolate.” Ryan grumbled as he nonchalantly grabbed the container and set it to the side. He had a more important problem right now anyway. He was finally going to confess his feelings for Luke.

“Umm, Luke? Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah, sure.” Luke has a feeling he knows what it is, but Ryan needs to get it off his chest. Ryan will need to move on because Luke is straight. And he has no plans on changing his sexuality anytime soon.

“I-I like you…Like, love you.” Ryan can’t believe he just did that! He finally said it! After all this time! He hid his face in his blanket and waited for Luke’s response, face as red as a tomato.

…

After a moment of silence, Ryan looked up in confusion. “Luke?”

“I know.” Luke walked away, back to the kitchen and stayed there.

“Wha-

“I *know* you like me, more than just a friend. You told me when you were drunk a couple of months ago. That’s why I got a girlfriend and ignored that next week. That’s why I brought chicks home every weekend after she broke up with me. I’ve been trying to prove to you.” Luke paced up and down the kitchen while Ryan just watched, bewildered.

“You knew? And you didn’t say anything? Why not? And to prove what?”

“TO PROVE THAT I’M STRAIGHT! AND THAT I CAN’T AND WON’T EVER LOOK AT YOU LIKE THAT! I tried to let you down gently! But this is ridiculous! You can’t take a hint, can you? I thought I made it obvious for you! DO I HAVE TO SPELL IT OUT!!?? WE. ARE. FRIENDS.” Luke stormed away and into his bedroom. “I’m going back to bed! I can’t believe you woke me up at two in the morning for this shit!”

Ryan didn’t know where it went wrong! He knew he should’ve just kept his stupid mouth shut. Why does he have to be so stupid?

Crying, Ryan grabbed his last suitcases and headed to the airport, there was no way he was going to spend the night there and face Luke in the morning. In his haste and crying state, Ryan forgot his bunny blanket and his hot cocoa container.

~~~*~~~

Luke heard the door slam and sighed. He knew that what he said was harsh. But he has been trying to subtly tell Ryan for a whole month! His girlfriend even found out that Ryan loved Luke and she broke up with him because of it. Ugh, now he feels horrible for what he said. He was just tired of it. He was really harsh though, Ryan didn’t do anything *wrong* so, he decided to apologize.

“I’ll apologize tomorrow, I’m dead tired right now.” Luke decided that calling him will be best. He will call Ryan before his 6 a.m. flight to Chicago. He set his alarm and tried to sleep.

*Tried* but failed.

Luke ended up laying there for the rest of the night, questioning everything. His stupid mind suddenly recalled his days in high school when he had a questionable drunk night and woke up in someone else’s bed. All that would have been fine and the normal for Luke except, it was a guy’s bed. A dude named Craig. Luke remembers waking up to him naked, with his clothes tossed everywhere and Craig mumbling in his sleep how much his ass hurt and ‘Why did he have to be so big?’ Luke also remembers rushing to put his clothes on and leaving that apartment as fast as he could to get away from whatever the hell happened that night.

With the battle going on in his head, Luke knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight. Maybe I can wake up Ryan and we can finally finish ou--, oh wait, Ryan isn’t here to play monopoly with him anymore. He isn’t here to throw the dice at Luke when he knows Luke is being a gloating asshole. He won’t be here anymore to try and make Luke drink hot cocoa anymore, always waving it under his nose to try and get him to drink it. He won’t be here to stumble around and break things in the morning. Or to silently rage when they play Mario Cart together. He won’t be here to get excited over going to Starbucks together, or to enjoy Luke’s cooking.

Luke brought a smile to his face as he remembers all the little weird noises Ryan would make when he was happy, or excited. He specifically remembers when Ryan actually beat Luke and got MVP in Rainbow Six Siege, Ryan jumped all over the couch yelling in excitement as Luke watched on in amusement until Ryan tumbled off and hit his head against the wall. “Worth it!” was what he said amidst the groans of pain and mumbles of cursing. But all of that can’t happen anymore because he fucked up. He fucked up reaaaaaal bad. He can’t imagine his life without him. God, why is Luke sooo stupid! Why did he have to yell at Ryan! The poor man opened up to him about his feelings and all Luke did was yell.

“Goddammit! Why did you have to do that Luke? All because you are fucking insecure and confused.” Luke punched the couch and flopped down on it.

“Fucking shit!” He cried out when his knee hit something metallic. He angrily got up and yanked a blanket off the couch to look. It was…the hot cocoa powder? Why would Ryan leave this? He loves this stuff. Luke also realized that the blanket still in his hands was Ryan’s. The bunny one. Why would Ryan leave this? It’s his favorite. He and Luke went to an animal sanctuary and they were selling blankets of the animals that they saved. Ryan ended up begging Luke to get him the gray bunny blanket, after a while, Luke agreed. But what he didn’t find out until later is that Ryan, the sneaky bastard, already bought Luke a fox one and he wanted them to match. Luke unknowingly pulled the blanket around him and took a deep breath. Hmm, smells of chocolate and coffee. He stopped himself. What was he doing? Smelling his blanket? What the fuck is wrong with him? He’s acting…like a…lovesick…person. But Luke’s straight? Right? No. He doesn’t know what he is, but he sure isn’t straight, not anymore.

“I gotta call Ry!”

Luke flew off the couch and to his bedroom, where his phone was still plugged in. He didn’t even look at the time as he quickly scrolled through his contacts and called Ryan. Oh, how he hoped he would have come to his realization sooner.

~~~*~~~

Brock looked around the room with tired eyes. Right now, he and his team are stationed at the local police station to somehow make sense of this chaotic mess. An airplane was struck by lighting and the instruments stopped working, including the autopilot system. No one really knows what happened, and most of the bodies are scorched beyond recognition, so his team was tasked with trying to match I.D.s up with bodies and contacting their families.

*Ring Ring!*

“Whose ever it is, shut it off. We are busy right now.”

*Ring Ring!*

“I said--!” I turned around to the boys looking around and putting their phones down. They all looked confused until Agent Jon Dennis spoke up.

“I think it’s coming from the evidence box.” At that, everyone searched through the boxes with baited breath. They all hate this part. A loved one calling up to check if a person was ok and then finding out that they’re in fact dead.

“I found it!” Jon held up the phone which was still ringing.

“Answer it and put it on speaker phone,” I said as he answered it. We immediately heard a male voice.

“Oh, thank god I was able to get to you before you left for Chicago. I’m sorry about what I said! Please come home! I love you and I can’t believe I didn’t say it before and that I waited until the complete last moment to tell you that. And I feel like such an ass about earlier and I understand if you are still angry with me, but please come home. I’m so so sorry for what I said…Ryan? Are you there?” I looked around the room and saw that Brian had tears running down his cheeks, Marcel wasn’t moving, and Mini had a hand over his mouth and was silently sobbing as they all realized that this man had no idea.

No idea that the man he loved, Ryan, wasn’t coming back home, and that one fight had seemed to lead Ryan to get on that flight, only to die in a storm moments later.

“This is Agent Brock of the FBI. It’s very unfortunate to tell you this, but Mr. Wrecker died in a plane crash this morning around 6:45.” Even Brock had tears running out of his eyes at this point. They have told so many people today that their loved ones are dead. That they will never be coming back home to them. This last one seemed to break them completely as they heard the poor man fall apart at hearing the news and then hang up.

“Nonononononoo! That can’t be true! I just talked to him a couple of hours ago! Oh no! He died hating me! He…he…died”

#ohmtoonz #angst #bbs #im crying rn #i cried while writing this #ohmwrecker #cartoonz #luke patterson #ryan wrecker

86 notes · View notes

ra3lynn3 · 6 years

Text

Stay With Me Always

Chapter 1

I shift uncomfortably in the stiff plastic chair as I tug at the hem of my skirt, willing it to be just a few inches longer. I wonder then why I let my sister dress me for this interview. She promised I looked professional and smart; just the right winning combination. As there's no one else around in the small reception area, it's hard to judge the truth. Not to mention, my idea of fashion is jeans and a t-shirt with my hair pulled back in a braid. But Prim insisted I let my hair down. She even convinced me I should let her put a few curls in it. I'm certain I recall seeing my mother dressed something like this back when I was ten, which sets my insecurities on high alert. I stare at my hands on my lap and begin to pick nervously at my nails.

I, like the rest of Panem, have been looking for a steady job since the fall and subsequent rebuild of the government several years ago. Odd jobs here and there have kept me from being homeless. Barely.

I work most days (and nights) at a little diner affectionately called, Greasy Sae's, while the well-intended original name has long since been forgotten by its mostly inebriated, stoned, or just-don't-care clientele. Besides a basic need to stay alive, I am determined to provide a better life for my sister, Prim, and our mother.

Which is what brings me to this mostly humiliating moment in time. My friend, Gale, tipped me off about an opening here at Mellark's. Gale's girlfriend, Madge, works in the mail room and mentioned one of the head honchos was looking for a personal assistant. Unfortunately, Gale is often a man of few words, so I had little information to go off of to get me here. I spruced up my resume to include my vast knowledge of customer service (even if the customers are easy to please when they're hungover), and my uncanny ability to multitask (being the sole waitress in a small diner can be tricky), along with my stellar organizational skills (no one else was going to alphabetize the cans and boxes in the pantry, thank you very much). Whatever the case may be, someone liked what they saw and called me for an interview. Although, according to Madge, several dozen able-bodied people have been in and out of the towering office building, not to mention herself, in search of the coveted position. She swears the Devil himself would be easier to impress.

"Katniss Everdeen?"

A shrill female voice interrupts my thoughts. I look up to see an impeccably dressed woman with her hair piled high atop her head, adorned with several small butterfly clips. She has a number of subtle streaks of hot pink in her blond hair, and lipstick to match. Her lashes are heavy with mascara, and underneath, her eyes land on me and her lips purse. I feel her eyes raking in my appearance. I'm suddenly aware of my too-tight, too-short, too-old outfit that was pieced together from my mom's wardrobe since my argument for pants and a plain top were not compelling enough. According to Prim, it didn't help me "stand out" (her words, not mine). My stomach clenches. I dig my nails into the palms of my hands.

Right now, I would give anything to disappear. Butterfly blond turns abruptly and motions for me over her shoulder with a sharply pointed, well-manicured nail. With no further instruction, my response time is slow, but I jump to my feet before the door she came through has a chance to close. I take the opportunity to give my skirt a quick tug. It's then that I hear a sickening rip and feel the cool air hit the side of my thigh. I feel a rush of heat rise to my cheeks, and quickly glance down to assess the damage. The hem that barely reached the end of my fingertips has now slipped several inches up my right thigh. It's a miracle my under garments aren't showing. I barely register that the blond is talking to me.

"I'm Effie. I'll be showing you around today. Hurry, we have lots to do before we meet with Mr. Mellark. He insists on timeliness!"

If it's possible, her already fast pace quickens and I try to reason how I'm going to fix my skirt quickly in order to downplay my new street walker appearance.

Effie stops abruptly and I nearly slam into her. She frowns slightly as she sees me try to subtly fidget with my clothing. She unceremoniously hands me a hair net and cloth shoe covers. She quickly dons her items and straightens to face the doors in front of her. She smooths her perfectly pressed dress suit and takes a deep breath.

"This is where the fun begins!" She exclaims reverently as she pushes open a set of large double doors.

My senses are assailed with sights and sounds and sweet smells. Beyond that, I'm immediately overwhelmed by the sound of the loud machinery and the whirring of objects being seemingly flung from place to place by a dizzying amount of conveyor belts. I can barely hear Effie as she speaks above the roar.

"Mellark's has been a household name for decades, but of course you know that." She chuckles under her breath.

I did know that actually. We've bought their bread, when we could afford it, since I was a little girl. We even had a special white box on the counter to store it so it didn't spoil as quickly. When my father was alive, he liked to surprise us on holidays with a bag of their cheese buns. Christmas Day meant a loaf of their fruit and nut bread. I was always intrigued by its knotted appearance. Mellark's became synonymous with home. It reminds me of sweeter days when I felt whole.

"Each of the family's beloved recipes is made in-house and distributed throughout Panem." She drones on above the roar as we make our way to the opposite end of the factory. She points and gestures in several other directions as she guides our tour.

I nod dumbly as I follow close behind. I'm admittedly lost in my thoughts of the past when I realize a second too late that Effie has stopped abruptly once again. We bump into one another, and if looks could kill, I'd have been dead ten times over. I mumble an apology under my breath. Effie quickly composes herself after a small shake of her head, fluffs the base of her updo, and wipes the corners of her mouth. Effie begins to remove her hair net and booties. I follow suit and follow her through the steel double doors into a noticeably quieter area of the building. My heeled feet sink into the plush carpet and I try hard not to look too wobbly.

"This is the administrative area of the building." Effie gestures widely with her arms.

As I look around the sizable hallway, I notice dozens of framed photographs, newspaper articles laden with flattering headlines about the company, plaques, magazine covers and awards neatly hung in a pleasing array. No time to stop and look with Effie's breakneck speeds. When I tune in, she's explaining several of the duties I would be responsible for, should Mr. Mellark agree to hire me. Admittedly, I am largely unfamiliar with clerical work, but I know myself to be a quick study. As we round the corner, Effie slows her speed. This time I'm aware of the shift. Her reason for pause gets my attention and I follow her gaze to see two men standing several yards away engaged in a very tense-looking conversation.

Both stand uncomfortably close to one another. The older man plants his pointer finger in the younger man's chest, whispering something along the lines of 'get it together' through gritted teeth. Effie clears her throat to signal our presence in the hopes of breaking up this testosterone-driven moment. Both men turn to see us standing in the hall. The older man plasters a smile on his face and turns toward Effie.

"Effie!" He exclaims, taking several large steps toward us to quickly close the distance. "Who do we have here?" He asks, turning to face me with his still-fake smile.

I steal a glance over his shoulder to take in the defeated looking younger man. I quickly pull my eyes to the man in front of me as Effie introduces us. I abandon my death grip on the side of my skirt as Ryan, or 'Rye-to-his-friends', reaches to shake my hand.

"This is my baby brother, Peeta" Rye tips his head back toward the younger man standing behind him. Peeta does his best to keep his look of annoyance to a minimum as he comes forward to shake my hand as well. I'm struck by his warm, firm grip. He does little to show any enthusiasm toward our meeting and quickly releases my hand. He makes short work of unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Sensing his younger brother's foul mood, Rye commandeers the conversation with a, "Glad to meet you Katniss. I hope you can finally be the one to meet Peeta's ridiculous demands for an assistant."

He looks sideways at Peeta then leans in and whispers conspiratorially, "He's hard to please".

With a wink, Rye stands upright and gestures toward a door that I'm assuming he'd like us to enter through. Before I can make a move, Effie takes that as her cue to get to work. It seems that she simultaneously holds the door for the three of us, while ensuring enough water-filled glasses are provided and paperwork is evenly distributed to the men sitting across from me at a table that would fill the entirety of my kitchen at home. I feel the seam of my skirt stress and tear even more as I go to sit at the edge of a very plush, black leather swivel chair. My bottom nearly slips off the edge of the slick material. I quickly catch myself and look to see that Peeta has witnessed my clumsiness. I swear I see him stifle a smile and try to compose himself with a sip of water. I feel heat rise to my cheeks once again as I work to bite my tongue, holding in a passive aggressive comment that has no place in a much-needed job interview.

"So, Katniss, tell us a little about yourself" Rye begins as he skims over my meager resume.

I'm really feeling unsettled by how this entire event has gone from beginning until now, but I think briefly of Prim. Imagining her disappointment at the recap of this nightmare, I muster up my confidence and begin, "I'm a very hard worker. Have been my whole life. I'm not afraid to learn new things either."

"That's very original" Peeta chimes in. I detect movement under the table. It would seem Rye planted a swift kick to Peeta's shin judging by the grunt elicited from his clenched mouth.

There's something in his tone that sets my teeth on edge. I look between the two of them, debating if I even want to bother going on. I take a deep breath and resolve to say, "Listen, I know you've seen your fair share of people in and out of here for this job, but I really need this job."

Throwing all caution to the wind, I continue, "You see, I can't afford to put my little sister through school on a waitress's salary, and she deserves all the good things this world has to offer. While my resume may not be the most impressive one you've seen, I won't let you down."

The men look dumbfounded at my revelation. We sit in silence for a moment. I look down to my hands in my lap as Rye hesitantly says, "Thank you for your honesty. We'll be in touch."

I take that as my signal to leave. Standing to wobbly heels, I compose myself quickly and look to both men as I thank them for their time. Peeta's eyes hold mine a second longer than I expect. I stare back with an intensity that I hope conveys my determination. With a nod of my head, I turn to leave. Effie stands beside the door to the conference room.

"This way, Miss Everdeen" she says as she guides me back to the hallway and onto an elevator. "Thank you for your time", she says as she pushes the button to return me to the lobby and steps out from the elevator before the doors have a chance to close. She gives me one last look up and down, before I begin my descent.

As the doors close, I grab a fistful of my hair and let out a growl, cursing the powers-that-be for that unfortunate excuse for an interview.

I've completely blown it. Time to start practicing my speech for Prim.

I make my way out to the street, and as if on auto pilot, I pull my hair back in a braid. Giving one last look to the towering skyscraper beside me, I shake my head and begin my trek to the other side of town, The Seam, as it's affectionately called. Much of The Seam's people are blue-collar. A small group makes the daily commute into the larger part of the city to work in its offices, shops and justice building, but for the most part, families make a living by working in the coal mines.

My family is no exception. My mother worked in the city for a time, while my father kept long hours in the mines. When I came along, my mother resolved to staying home to care for me. I sometimes wonder if she regrets her decision when she looks back on her life. Although, like me, she was willing to make sacrifices for her family. In fact, if I were to claim any one thing I have in common with my mother, it would be her sacrificial spirit. Even though my father's death nearly broke her spirit entirely. His endless hours subjected to inhaling coal dust wreaked havoc on his lungs. He was dead three months to the day after his diagnosis. Lung cancer. I was 16.

I'm met with a soft tinkle of a bell as I pull open the door to Sae's.

"You're late, girl!" I hear Sae call from the kitchen.

"Hey, glad you could join us, Sweetheart!" I hear a familiar voice chide from the far booth to my left. Haymitch. One of the regulars and perpetually drunk.

"Save it, Haymitch." I reply as I dip behind the counter to grab a change of clothes. I hear him chuckle as I hurry to the back room and swiftly remove the source of much of my disdain. Without thinking twice, I pitch the clothes in the nearby trash can and make my way back to the front.

"How'd it go, Katniss?" Hazelle asks as she wipes a spot clean on the counter.

I give her a look that encompasses enough emotion that she knows not to pursue the topic further.

"It couldn't have been that bad" Darius, another regular, remarks.

"No, it was worse" I reply. I proceed to fill in my small audience on the play-by-play of the day. They respond appropriately with sympathetic silence and shakes of their heads.

"You could always help me with my geese!" Haymitch suggests from his seat at the booth.

I roll my eyes and hear Sae from the kitchen say something about me having enough work to do here and that the tables and floors aren't going to clean themselves. I take the hint and get to work, putting the day and its disappointments behind me.

It's a quarter past four when I hear the tinkle of the doorbell and a ray of sunshine enters the diner. Primrose. She smiles happily as our eyes meet and she takes a seat in front of me at the counter. I see the expectation in her gentle blue eyes and solemnly shake my head. She responds quietly with, "That's ok, Katniss. It's their loss."

I smile half-heartedly and fill a cup of water for her as she pulls a number of text books and paper from her accompanying bag.

"This isn't a library, Prim" Sae remarks as she pokes her head around the corner from the kitchen; her permanent residence.

Prim pulls a pleading look and Sae retreats behind the wall without another word. Curious, I pull one of the textbooks toward me and read the title out loud "Introduction to Human Anatomy." I try hard not to sound appalled at the title, which sounds far too intimate and challenging for me to comprehend. I was always an average student in school. I never excelled at anything in particular, but got by unnoticed for the most part.

Prim, on the other hand, really took to school and will often admit that she loves it. It's a good thing too, since becoming a doctor requires many years of her dedication. Our mother had a knack for healing when we were younger. When she worked in the city, it was for a small druggist, preparing medicines and doing minor first aid when necessary. People from our neighborhood would occasionally stop by for help if they couldn't afford the hospital.

"Classes started today, and I want to make sure I'm ready for lecture tomorrow." Prim says matter-of-factly.

I nod knowingly and leave her to it. I keep her cup full of water and force her to take a break at dinner time. By 9:30 I've completed my closing duties and break her from her concentration to pack up and head home. We walk in silence. I don't have the heart to pull Prim from her thoughts. Her head is always in her books, even if she's not reading. I've just pulled my keys from my jacket when I feel an insistent buzzing from my bag. I scramble to find my phone. The number isn't one I know, and given the late hour, I send it to voicemail. As we enter the house, Prim and I greet our mother as she sits nearly catatonic in front of the glowing TV. She utters a hello, but makes no move to get up. I throw my bag and jacket over the chair and begin cleaning up the mess my mother left the kitchen.

For the last ten years since my father's death, she makes it her mission to do the least amount of everything possible to get by. If she takes her pills regularly we can usually get a good streak of motivation out of her, but often these moments are followed by 'the fall out' as I've come to call it. Times where, like now, she abandons whatever work she has started and retreats to a quiet world in front of the television where everything is simple. Judging by the piles of old photographs and photo albums, she was making it her mission to organize the chaos.

I make quick work of piling the photos and putting them back in their respective boxes or books. Several catch my eye as I go about my task. Happier times. Prim and I as children dressed in make believe costumes. Holidays. First days of school. My parents wedding photo. Their love for each other never ceased to amaze me. I always admired them for it, even before I could grasp its depths. Now as an adult I can't even imagine what it must be like to love someone that much, so I don't even try. Love and romance never interested me much. I've had my share of boyfriends, but never once did I feel that 'thing' I'm convinced I will feel if the right person should come along. But who am I kidding? I have no time in my life for going out on dates. I have my family to think of and that's enough.

The buzzing from my bag pulls me from my thoughts. As I reach for my phone I notice I have a voicemail from that same number I didn't recognize earlier. As I push the playback button, I pull the phone from my ear as Effie's shrill voice fills the room.

"Hello Katniss. Effie Trinket calling from Mellark's. Please call me back at this number at your earliest convenience. Any time. I'd like to speak with you about the terms of your employment. Thank you."

I stand transfixed. Did I hear her right? I replay the message. Yes, I definitely heard her correctly. I feel strangely lightheaded. Maybe giddy is the word? I would never use that word to describe myself, but it's the best I can do. How that conversation must've gone after I left intrigues me. Oh, to be a fly on the wall! Without thinking I press the button to dial the number Effie called from. After two rings, I suddenly realize the time and go to hang up.

"Effie Trinket speaking!" Comes her cheerful trill.

"Hi, Effie. It's Katniss. I apologize for the late call..." I begin lamely.

"Don't be silly, Katniss. I'm always so busy I rarely get a chance to sleep." She chortles back. "I'm delighted to hear from you. Both Ryan and Peeta would like you to start as soon as possible. Does tomorrow morning at eight work?"

She rattles off these words and my mind swirls to put it all together.

"Uh, sure" I stutter dumbly. "I'll be there tomorrow."

"8 AM sharp." She confirms. I'm about to say goodbye when she interjects, "And Katniss... attire with a bit more fabric if you will, please?"

With that the phone switches off. I feel heat rising to my cheeks again. I sit down quietly in a kitchen chair, staring at the lines in the floor.

"Everything ok, Katniss?" Prim's voice shakes me from my thoughts.

"I got the job" I manage to push out just above a whisper.

"What?" She asks, coming closer. I look her in the eye and repeat my unexpected and joyful news. She shrieks and bends down to hug me. With a quick clap of her hands she stands and looks preoccupied with her thoughts. She starts muttering under her breath about picking out an outfit for me as she turns and heads toward our bedroom. Realization dawns on me about what happened last time she was left alone to dress me, so I quickly give chase.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12666126/1/Stay-With-Me-Always

#everlark #everlark fanfiction

33 notes · View notes

vagrantblvrd · 7 years

Text

Rewrite All the Rules (4/?)

Summary: A series of fics and ficlets based on this list.

AO3 - Chapter 4 - Burn Bright

It takes time in their world to build up a reputation. The kind that has people whispering your name and looking over their shoulder as if they're afraid just doing so will conjure you up like a demon or creature out of nightmare. The kind that make people think twice before crossing you, if it's worth the trouble it'll bring to their door.

4. - First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight?

5. - Nicknames? Pet names? Any in-jokes?

It takes time in their world to build up a reputation. The kind that has people whispering your name and looking back over their shoulder as if they're afraid just doing so will conjure you up like a demon or creature out of nightmare. The kind that make people think twice before crossing you, if it's worth the trouble it'll bring to their door.

Before then, there are setbacks and problems. From the inconsequential to the kind that stand to get you killed if you're not careful. The kind that ends a career before it so much as gets its footing.

So of course, of course, Ryan meets Ramsey's infamous Golden Boy long before either of them have cemented their own reputations.

When Ryan's just another hired gun out there. Maybe a better shot than most, capable of remaining level-headed when things turn to shit, but nothing that really sets him apart from all the others like him out there. (Yet.)

When the Golden Boy is just some fast-talking brat only starting to realize his potential. Not quite able to talk himself out of the increasingly dangerous situations he gets himself into with alarming frequency. (Yet.)

They go back a ways, the two of them. Long before Ryan gets his mask, before Gavin carefully, painstakingly crafts the armor that becomes the Golden Boy. Before Ramsey's empire takes shape, before everything.

========

Ryan's never had the taste for inflicting pain on someone just because he could. Because he was bigger, stronger, but that doesn't mean he isn't good at it when the situation calls for it.

This one doesn't.

Instead, Ryan is the hired muscle here. Silent and watchful. The looming threat in the shadows as some some small-time gang leader encourages his men (boys, really) who do have the taste for it to get some scrawny kid to talk. Spill what he knows about a rival gang.

It's pitiful, this, Ryan realizes.

Watching them use tactics they must have gotten out of bad movies and television shows. Things that do too much damage too fast. That hurt fast and sharp and brutal, but don't linger. Don't set the kind of fear into the kid they should be aiming for if they want anything of worth out of him. (That Ryan knows this innately, makes him feel a little ill. Uneasy that something like that is in him, even as he mentally critiques them.)

He's reluctantly impressed by the kid. Still sassy and mouthy even after several days of this.

Broken and bloody in body but not in spirit. Never clearer in the way he can see the kid working his nails into the seams of the armor his tormentors wear.

All bravado and false confidence born from a life of being bigger and meaner than the people they come up against. Weak and flimsy against any real threat, and the kid knows. Can see it so very plainly even as he takes advantage of their stupidity and lazy arrogance.

Ryan catches the kid eyeing him sometimes, when the idiots are gone and he's working on getting his breathing slow and level. A faint rasping wheeze to it that makes Ryan keep a closer eye on him, just in case.

The kid is interesting, and then there's the mystery of that accent of his.

Something about it very subtly off, but Ryan can't place it. Too much Texas twang, not enough drawl, Ryan doesn't know. Only knows it slips when the two of them are alone. The kid fighting through pain to get to a kind of normal where he can think, can fucking scheme.

And he is, Ryan knows.

“You look like a guy with good head on your shoulders.”

It's the beginning of a spiel. Start with flattery, pry your target open as you go to get to the heart of him. See what makes him tick and use it against him.

Trying to turn Ryan to his side when in fact Ryan isn't on a side at the moment. He's only here because of favors owed, the kind that eats away at him even now. The kind that means Ryan will remember every slight, every humiliation when those debts are paid.

Ryan looks at the kid. Sees the crooked little smile, teeth stained with blood and wonders how much longer he can hold out, how much patience his captors have left.

“You've got a mouth on you,” he says, and despite himself it comes out a little impressed, which causes the smile to widen.

“It's a gift.”

Ryan rolls his eyes, doesn't tell the idiot it's going to get him killed because look where they are right now. Look what the idiot's gotten himself into.

He doesn't ask why the kid's so damn loyal to people who have clearly written him off. Doesn't ask why he doesn't fucking spill already, when they both know it's going to be Ryan who puts him down in the end.

Or would have been, if things didn't turn to shit when Ryan's employers try to fuck Ryan over. Thought his price was too high. Thought, so very stupidly, that even if he was starting to gain a reputation for himself, it would be easy to get rid of someone like him. Just another hired gun like any other in Los Santos after all, wasn't he.

And Ryan?

Well, Ryan decides enough is enough and any debts he may have owed are invalid.

========

The kid looks up at him when Ryan opens the door to the room they've been keeping him in. Gives Ryan that crooked little smile of his when he realizes Ryan's alone. Eyes flicking towards the door, and yes, fine. There was a hell of a lot of gunfire taking place earlier, and only Ryan walking in here.

Simple math, really.

“Shut up,” Ryan says, ignoring the idiot's quiet laugh as he leans over to undo the cuffs and hauls him up out of that fucking chair to get him out of the hellhole he's been held in for over a week.

“Sure, sure,” the kid says, no goddamned fear in his voice the way there should be, given everything that's happened.

========

It's been years, life and experience turning Ryan into the kind of thing he never could have expected, but then that's the price of a reputation in a city like Los Santos, isn't it.

Ryan's a bogeyman who hunts down other monsters for the right price. He's the kind of person who does a lot of things for the right price, actually. Somewhere along the line he's started wearing a mask, and added face paint under it because things like that have an impact in a city like Los Santos.

Red for the blood he's spilled. White for the bones he breaks with his bare hands. Black for the color of his soul, or so the rumors go. (No one knows where they come from but everyone knows them, and that's enough to build a reputation on.)

One day Ryan's current employer tells him they have Ramsey's Golden Boy. That this is it, the key to bringing Ramsey's little empire to its knees.

Ryan doesn't care about that, though. The way the guy keeps boasting and bragging, like he had anything to do with catching the Golden Boy because -

Ryan knows him, Ramsey's Golden Boy.

The accent is different, but he knows that voice. Thinks, ah, so that's why when he hears that soft British accent, slurred by a split lip.

Sees a little how the kid's earned his own reputation in the way his eyes follow Ryan when he walks into the room, narrowing slightly in contemplation. Scheming already, planning and plotting and not a speck of fear in his eyes in spite of his current circumstances.

Ryan knows he cuts an imposing figure. Tall and broad, dark leather, and that mask of his, because there's theater in his background and goddamned if it doesn't work in this world.

“You know the Vagabond, I see,” Ryan's employer purrs, like so many have before. Like he thinks Ryan's on his side in this. “Excellent.”

The kid gives the man a flat, unimpressed look.

“Everyone knows the Vagabond,” he says, an implied, you idiot in there that has Ryan smiling under his mask.

The sass nets him an open-handed blow across his cheek, but he just rolls with it, which.

Nice, nice.

Ryan watches as his employer tries to convince Ramsey's Golden Boy to talk. Clumsily and ham-handed and absolutely no finesse to it - and the thing of it is, he does.

He's Ramsey's Golden Boy, though, and so he deals out insults and pithy quips and clever little lies, and through it all demonstrates the skills of someone who knows how to take a hit. Who's either learned the hard way or been trained against this kind of thing, and that just makes him even more interesting to Ryan.

“You haven't changed much,” Ryan says, left alone with the Golden Boy while his employer seethes over his stubbornness. Infuriated and coming dangerously close to taking drastic measures. “Still got a mouth on you.”

The Golden Boy cocks his head. Studying Ryan, and after a long moment smiles in spite of his split lip, blood running down his face. This small, crooked thing hardly daring to believe because Ryan wears a mask now and face paint under it. They're both different people from the ones who met years ago under startlingly similar circumstances, but some things hold true.

“You look like a guy with a good head on his shoulders.”

Ryan snorts, the Golden Boy laughs, and outside all hell breaks loose.

Gunfire and explosions and yelling.

Ryan looks over at Ramsey's Golden Boy, who's sitting up straighter in the chair, smirk on his face.

“Took them long enough.”

Ryan rolls his eyes and goes to deal with whoever is out there causing the ruckus.

========

Ramsey's people, of course. Riled up and tearing through the ranks of Ryan's current employer with the kind of fury and rage they've become famous for when one of theirs is taken, is hurt.

Ryan watches it from the security room, guard dead at his feet with a bullet in his head.

He has no loyalty to his current employer, no ties. Not to someone like this, someone who double-deals and double-crosses. Don't think for a minute that Ryan didn't know what the idiot had planned for him once things were done here, but.

Ryan has a reputation to uphold. When Mogar reaches the floor the Golden Boy's on, he makes an appearance.

Puts on a show - just enough - before he vanishes in the chaos. Feels some little thread of satisfaction that the kid he met all those years ago has people who came for him this time. Who fought fiercely enough to actually push Ryan back a little, give him pause.

========

A year later and Ryan's being approached by Ramsey's people for a job. Golden Boy front and center, crooked little smile on his face as his gaze lands on Ryan.

Mogar and his crew at his at his back. Colorful figures with their own reputations, rumors, floating around the city.

Ryan cocks his head when the Golden Boy walks up to him, all the confidence in the world to him as he looks up at Ryan.

“You seem like a guy with a good head on his shoulders. What do you say to trying your luck with us for a bit? See if it's something you'd like?”

And Ryan?

Ryan laughs, and accepts.

#fahc #fahc fic #fanfic #freewood #vagrant fic #rewrite all the rules #i have no impulse control #/o\

9 notes · View notes