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spacehologramcollection · 3 years

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The Dad Batch Headcanons.

Two posts in one night. My god I am on a roll, this is where I disappear for the next few months and resurface again. I’m pretty sure this has been done before, pretty sure I’ve done a Clone Wars version. But because I’m on a Bad Batch Hype, may as well re-do the post! I cannot escape The Clone Wars, I will forever keep watching the first four seasons, and then pretend the last 3 didn’t happen. What’s order 66? Who’s this? Like all the Clones lived happily ever after, and they all found happiness.

Warnings: Fluff and swearing. I guess this is kind of an AU too? I probably re-read this quickly, but I’ve had a bottle of wine so like yeah. Headcanons below the cut. Unsure if this is OOC. Back from a huge hiatus and trying to get back into the swing of writing. I’m not that into Tech, so his is a lot shorter. Sorry guys!

· Wrecker: I agree with the general consensus this man would be a great dad. Super supportive and a fun dad. If his kids want to play sports, he’ll be at every match/event, he’ll be the loudest one there, and super supportive of them! If his kids want to do something like dance, chess or playing an instrument, he’ll still be supportive and the loudest one there! If is kids playing a violin, he’ll be shouting ‘ENCORE’ or something. Who the hell going to tell him to shut up? Nobody that’s who, the man is a behemoth! But saying that, even though he’s really huge, he’s super gentle. He’s always carrying his kids around on his shoulders. Not only because it’s fun and so they can see, but it’s also the safest place for them. He’s such a good dad and extremely fun. He’s definitely the softer parent, like you’ll have to be a bit stricter than him. But he cares deeply for his kids and he’ll always be proud of them. He loves taking them to the beach, if they want to be Yeeted into the sea, then he will yeet them. Will also build sandcastles. He’s also the best storyteller, why? Because he does the voices, and always has the best stories. If his kids want a tea party, then he’ll be there, on time and ready to drink the best imaginary tea. Also, he’d totally hand down Lula to his kids. Lula looked after him, now they can look after his children. Wrecker would want a huge family. He grew up with lots of brothers and has always felt happy with them. So, he would want his kids to grow up with the same kind of thing. His kids would have cousins as well. Lots and lots of cousins. Wrecker would create a warm, supportive, and fun environment for his kids to grow up in.

· Echo: Echo is a fairly chilled-out dad. He’s strict-ish but pretty fair. He’s super protective and proud as well. He’s really supportive and will help his kids with their homework. Always reads to them and makes sure they know their loved. He would also make sure that one of his kids was named, in some way, after Fives. He’ll always tell his kids about Uncle Fives and how he would have loved to have met them. Bit bittersweet for him. He’d be nervous when they were very young, because he only has one arm, and how can he hold them? His confidence comes with time. He teaches his kids not to judge and just wants them to feel loved and appreciated. He sets rules, but he’s not going to be super angry if they get broken, for a good reason. His kids are only a few minutes late home? It’s fine. He’d be the type of dad that would also just want to be kept in the loop. If they are going to be late, just let him know, or he will panic. This stems from what happened to him. He can’t BBQ for shit, but he does make the best cupcakes. If his kids are really into sport, he’ll go along to all the games, and make an effort to find out more about the sport. He wants to support them and if he has to read/watch more to understand it, then so be it! Type of dad to go to every recital, concert or play and be super proud. Takes loads of photos too. Why? So, when you’re old, and sat on your porch, you can look back and smile. Type of dad to be like ‘I can’t believe we made them!’ Echo is so soft and gentle and caring. He’d want maybe two kids. He feels having one, would mean they would be lonely. He, like all the other clones, grew up with brothers and loved them… most of the time! So, having two or three kids isn’t something he’d be opposed to.

· Hunter: Is shaped like a dad, is a dad. Has the WORST dad jokes, but always makes his kids smile and laugh. He’s fun but strict, he wants to keep his kids safe, and has rules to help with his. Nothing major, but curfew is important. Makes a point of having a family board game night. Which once a month, includes all of the uncles. It normally ends in chaos but it’s always fun. Hunter is also the king of BBQ and DIY. Everything in his kids’ bedrooms and outside, was DIYed and built by him. Every BBQ he dons the apron, and proudly takes up his spatula. Makes the best burgers. He’s really supportive of his kids as well no matter what they do. He likes sports and will help his kids train. But if his kids don’t want to play sports, that’s not a problem, he’ll still be supportive. He’ll listen to his kids practise their instrument, help them revise, get Tech or Echo in to help them with chess. Will let his kids win at any videogames. Because the smile they have on their face when they best their dad, melts his heart. Hunter would want a few kids, maybe two or three. Omega needs some brothers and sisters after all. Hunter would also take his kids camping and be really outdoorsy with them. He’d like to leave early in the morning, and then come back trailing fireflies in with them. Anything from fishing to archery. Ultimate dad.

· Crosshair: Crosshair never really thought about a family of his own. He has his brothers but never thought he’d have additions to that family. He’s a really unsure parent and doesn’t see himself as been emotionally available. He’s got issues that he would need to work through before settling down. He would mellow out and be a pretty good father. But he would panic in the run up to becoming a father. Would chew a thousand toothpicks in the run up to becoming a father, he’s nervous. He’d be a fairly reserved father. He’s not going to be emotionally distant, but it takes patience for him to open up to anyone. He’s really caring in his own way. But very unsure of himself. In a morning, will pretend to still be asleep, so his kids have to come wake him up, because he promised he’d teach them how to fire a rifle today. He’ll be there for his kids and be very protective of them. He’ll teach them to have good aim and that’s there way of bonding. Whether that be archery or something like clay pigeon shooting. If his kids win awards or trophies from competitions, he’ll be super proud. As his kids get older, he gets better with parenting. Parents evening with him will be intense. I honestly think his sense of humour and dryness may be inherited by his kids. Doesn’t do art. If his kids are into art, he’ll listen, but he has no idea what’s going on. That been said, will cherish anything they make for him. I feel Crosshair would probably have one child and would prefer to have a smaller family. He finds it hard to open up to a lot of people, and this would just suit him more… but wouldn’t be opposed to having a few more kids. Especially after seeing how amazing, they are. Would be a very smug father.

· Tech: Helicopter parent. He wants his kids to do well in life and to have a good life. He just wants the best for them. He’ll support them in all of their extracurricular activities. ‘Oh, that will look good on your Uni application!’ Takes parents evening so seriously. What do you mean they’ve been doodling in the back of their books? Will look into what art extracurriculars are offered. He wants them to do well and will support them. He’ll help them with their homework and finds it fun. If his kids are struggling with something, they know they can come to him without judgement. He’ll judge other people, but his kids are still learning, and he wants to impart his knowledge. He’s a wise old owl. His kids will inherit the smugness that he has. Tech is smart and smug, and so are his kids. He’ll make sure to read to them. Not fantasy books but educational books. If his kids want to do sports, then he’ll get Uncle Hunter and Wrecker in to help. He’d very accepting of his kids and what they want to do and will support them. Takes lots of photos of them to show to his brothers. ‘This is them graduating from Year One to Year two.’ He’s very proud, but he will receive a ‘Oh goody, more photos, that we’ve seen a thousand times before’ Will shed a single tear when they graduate. If they go to University, will ask them to send them slides from their lecture. Because he wants to learn too. Do not let this man teach his kids to drive. Do not do it. He cannot drive for shit. I can see Tech maybe having one or two children. He wants to devote as much time as possible to them, to help them succeed and help them achieve their dreams.

#tbb #tbb headcanons #crosshair x reader #echo x reader #wrecker x reader #hunter x reader #tech x reader #crosshair #echo #arc trooper echo #hunter #tbb hunter #tech #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #wrecker

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erin-bo-berin · 4 years

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Adventurous

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request for a fic where Spencer is dating and avid outdoorsman and she takes him camping. Bless you for whoever requested this cause I had such a blast writing this one and could imagine perfectly poor Spencer struggling. But, it all works out in the end. ;) Happy reading!

Many thanks to my brainstorming buddy Mandy over at @multifandommandy for coming up with the no sleeping bag scenario, leading to the smut. It was definitely perfect for the fic and humorous enough to fit in with the rest of Spencer’s struggles.

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 5,191

“I can’t believe it. Spencer Reid camping?”

Luke’s loud laughter filled the bullpen as Spencer's mock glare was shot his way.

“Why is that so funny?” he asked.

“Well for one, I never thought you to be the outdoorsy type. Two, do you even own anything that isn’t a suit or work clothes? Three, it’s just fucking funny,” Luke smirked.

“Are you gonna help me or not?” Spencer sighed, exasperated, “I don’t want to look like a complete idiot in front of Y/N.”

“Dude. Your girlfriend is the avid outdoorsy one. Why don’t you ask her?”

“Because,” Spencer whined, “I want to impress her. Nature isn’t my thing.”

“How well we know,” Garcia mumbled as she passed the two men, picking up part of the conversation on her way by.

Spencer stared after her, open mouthed and turned back to Luke with a desperate look.

“Okay, okay. Take her bird watching, you know all about everything, you can talk about birds. Build a fire, set up a tent, go fishing, make s’mores, go hiking with her. You’re smart, I’m sure you’ll figure it all out.”

Luke patted Spencer’s chest as he walked off, leaving Spencer mystified. He exhaled deeply.

Camping couldn’t be that bad, could it?

•

You were so excited when Spencer had agreed to go camping with you.

Camping was something special you had done with your family ever since you were a child and you were anticipating sharing the fun of it with your longtime boyfriend.

The two of you had arrived at the camping grounds early in the morning so you could set up your camp and get started exploring. Spencer had been chatting the entire way and still continued to as he helped you carry the majority of the things.

“We can go fishing, hiking, birdwatching and make s’mores,” he rambled on.

You couldn’t help but smile. It warmed your heart to know he was excited about camping and you couldn’t help the huge, goofy grin on your face as you gazed up at him while he talked.

“Easy there Spence, we’ve got all weekend,” you chuckled.

“Sorry,” he flushed, “I’m just excited.”

“I’m glad,” you said honestly.

You took a look at his attire for the hundredth time that morning.

“I have to say, I didn’t even realize you owned pants that weren’t part of a suit.”

He was wearing what looked like cargo pants, but in a jogger pants style. With a tie and an elastic waist, it was like the best of pants and sweatpants in one. He was wearing a simple t-shirt with it and hiking boots. It had to be the most un-Spencer like outfit you’d ever seen him wear, but he pulled it off well. He looked like a normal, rugged, outdoorsman and you couldn’t help but feel proud.

“Yeah, I might’ve had to buy some new pants,” he said and then added, “And shoes.”

You smiled, amused, before speaking again.

“I figured we could get the tent and our camp set up and then go for a hike, maybe do some fishing then figure it out from there.”

“Sounds good.”

Twenty minutes later, you’d arrived at the perfect spot to set up camp.

You set down your own backpack and the mini cooler you’d brought, full of ice and bottles of water. Spencer set down his armload of things and automatically got to work.

“Spence, I can set up the tent, don’t worry. I’ve done it so much, I could do it in my sleep,” you chuckled.

“No, it’s okay. I got this.”

He’d cleared the area of sticks and rocks, laying down the ground cloth of the tent. You stood back, impressed that he knew what to do without being told.

He did good inserting the tent poles into the frame, but it went downhill after that. You pressed your lips together trying to hold back your giggles as he fought with the tent covered poles. He was trying to raise the tent and set it in place, but it just wasn’t working.

Every time he thought that he’d got it right and it would stay, the tent would collapse again. He huffed, trying again, only to have the same result.

“This looked a lot easier in the book,” he mumbled to himself.

You watched with growing amusement.

“You need some help babe?”

“No, no I got this!” he called, continuing his fight with the tent.

It wasn’t until he landed in a heap of tent and poles that he sighed resignedly.

“Okay, I need help.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore as you helped him up and assisted him in raising the tent into place, telling him why his attempts were failing.

“I totally knew that,” he waved it off, cheeks turning a tad pink.

With help from him, you hammered the pegs in the ground to secure it safely and attached the rain fly just in case it rained.

“There we go.”

You grinned triumphantly, setting your bags in the tent for safe keeping.

“You ready to go hiking?”

“Already? It’s barely 9 am.”

”But it’s also so pretty around this time and it’s a beautiful day. Besides,” you paused and smirked,

“It takes a lot to keep up with me.”

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, purposely grabbing your arm as you were about to walk past him to retrieve your backpack.

He pulled you in his lap and you squealed momentarily. He smiled and kissed you gently before letting you go. You chuckled and stood again to gather your backpacks.

“Grab us a couple granola bars and bottles of water, please?” you called to him.

“Sure thing.”

Once your backpacks were filled with the necessities, you both took off for your hike.

“So which trail do you want to take?” Spencer asked, peering back at you, looking at the map.

“Uh, well I was going to suggest the beginner’s one for you since-”

“No, don’t worry! I got this.” He pretended to flex, “Let’s do, this one.”

He pointed to the middle trail, the intermediate one.

“Spence, you sure? That’s the more challenging one. It’s totally okay for us to do the easy one.”

He scoffed.

“How hard can it be?”

•

“Just to clarify, I was an idiot half an hour ago when I questioned you,” Spencer panted, sweat dripping down his face.

“Are you alright?” you asked, worried, stopping to let him catch up.

“Oh yeah! Totally fine! I could walk a couple of miles more.”

His shirt was stuck to his chest from all the sweating he was doing and he was out of breath. He was most definitely not fine.

“Come on, what are you waiting for slow poke? Let’s go!”

He was walking backwards, still facing you as he advanced more up the trail.

“You know we can stop if you- Spencer!”

You were in mid-sentence when you saw his foot step on an unsuspecting rock and his arms shoot out, trying to catch his balance as he fell backwards with a yelp.

You winced, running over to him, offering your hand to help him up.

“You okay?”

You brushed the dirt off his clothes and inspected him closely for any scrapes or cuts. Your eyes flicked up to his hair and you stifled a giggle.

“What?”

“You have some leaves stuck in your hair,” you snickered, reaching upwards to pick them out of his messy curls.

He groaned.

“I’m okay. Just a bruised ego. I think it would be a great time to take a break though.”

You agreed and the two of you settled on a large rock just off the trail. You tossed him a bottle of water which he guzzled greedily.

“We can head back after we rest and try some fishing in the nearby stream.”

“I think I’d be better at fishing than hiking,” he chuckled, setting his bottle of water next to him.

You looked around at the scenery, smiling.

“I just love the smell of nature and fresh air. Plus the scenery is so beautiful.”

“It is,” he agreed, watching a bird fly overhead.

“Do you know what that is?” he asked, pointing to a bird sitting on a nearby branch.

“A bird?” you questioned, confused.

“Besides that, smartass.”

You almost choked on your sip of water. It was rarely Spencer cussed, but his sarcastic remark was so funny you half choked, half spurt water everywhere from laughing. He gave you a huge grin in result, the sun shining bright on his face, making his hazel eyes appear even more green than they normally did.

“I meant what kind of bird,” he reiterated.

“No, I can’t say I do.”

“Well that one is a belted kingfisher.”

“Oh really?” you quirked an eyebrow.

“Mhm. You know how most male birds are prettier than their female counterparts?”

You nodded.

“The males of these species are the ones with the duller colors and the females have the brighter, prettier feathers.”

You heard a familiar hollow sound.

“Ah, that little guy over there,” Spencer pointed to a faraway tree, “Is a red-headed woodpecker.”

“I was going to say that definitely sounded like a woodpecker,” you commented.

“And there is a blue jay. They can range from lavender blue to mid-blue. They like to store nuts like squirrels.”

“Can’t say I blame the squirrels. If their families are anything like you, they’d have to hide their food like I do to keep you out of it.”

He rolled his eyes, but gave you a smile.

“Come on big guy,” you patted his thigh, “Let’s go fishing.”

•

“I thought you said this was easy,” Spencer huffed, messing with his fishing line.

“Well it is for me,” you shrugged.

“Well that explains it all,” he grunted.

“Here,” you chuckled, helping him tie the hook on his line.

“Now, all you do is hook the bait—no live bait here, you won’t be catching me touching anything that wiggles—then throw your line back and into the water and wait.”

“Oh that’s all I do, huh?”

You watched as he fumbled with his fishing line, but finally managed to get it in the water.

“See? Not so hard. Now, we wait.”

“Why don’t we see who can catch the bigger fish, why don’t we?” Spencer smirked.

“Oh you are so on, Reid.”

Spencer grinned, determined to actually be good at something on this camping trip if it killed him.

A lot of waiting ensued.

“Are these fish sleeping or something?” Spencer complained.

“I didn’t say fishing happened quickly,” you pointed out, “Sometimes it just takes a bit for them to start biting.”

It was just then that Spencer’s line tightened.

“Wait, I think I got something!”

He attempted to try reeling it in and once again struggled. You threw your own rod down, to assist him, but it seemed to be stuck or he’d caught a really large fish.

“Why is it so hard to reel in?” he grunted, pulling the rod back as you tried to reel in the fish, “Maybe I’ll win after all!”

He sounded so proud. That is until the item broke the surface of the water and his face dropped.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.

“Well Spence, congrats. You just caught yourself a nice boot.”

“Who the hell throws a boot in the water anyway?”

You were biting your lip hard to keep from laughing, but he saw your expression.

“Okay, laugh it up.”

Your laughter burst from you and you patted his arm.

“Don’t worry babe, I’m sure it was just a fluke.”

You kissed his cheek sweetly, causing him to smile.

If only he could catch a fish, Spencer thought, just one little one to impress her.

After an hour, the two of you had had little luck. You did end up catching a decent sized fish, much to Spencer’s dismay.

As you always did with your family, you threw it back so it could continue to have a good life. Those were the words you’d said once as a child while fishing and it ended up becoming the rule of fishing when it came to your family’s fishing trips.

You could tell Spencer seemed a bit bummed, but you didn’t say anything, just in case it might upset him more.

“What now?” you asked.

“Well it’s past noon, so why don’t we head back to camp and eat lunch and rest?” he suggested.

You agreed, your muscles beginning to ache.

“Tired?” he asked, peering over at you.

“A little.”

“You up for playing some cards?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I’m in.”

•

You and Spencer sat in your tent, resting from the days’ activities and playing Uno. You never realized how competitive you were when playing any card game until you started dating him. He always seemed to win every kind of game. Whether it was Uno, Go Fish, Poker, you recalled him even winning a game of Old Maid once. The boy was just that good.

You sat down a draw four card making him groan.

“Pay back!” you grinned mischievously.

He’d thrown one your way earlier, just when you thought you were about to win.

“You may be from Vegas, but that doesn’t mean you can win every card game,” you smirked, as he drew his four new cards.

“You were saying?”

He laid down a skip card, making you grimace. Obviously since your turn was skipped, it was his again. Next, he laid down a wild card, declaring he was changing the card to red.

You mumbled under your breath as you drew another card, a blue. No luck.

When it came his turn, a red draw two came your way. Suddenly it was like your hands were doubled with cards, the opposite of what it had been just moments before.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely.”

His turn. Another skip. Once again, he laid one more card down. He was down to one.

“Uno,” he smirked.

“You’re not gonna win this easily, Reid.”

You placed a blue seven over his red seven, changing the color, thinking it was to your benefit.

“Oh well, thanks sweetheart,” he grinned as he placed his blue card on the pile.

“You’re joking,” you gaped at him wide mouthed, “Unbelievable.”

He chuckled, kissing your head as he stood from the ground.

“It’s starting to get dark. Should we start a fire soon?”

“Yeah, let me just pick up and I’ll go get it started,” you said, gathering the cards to put back in their Ziploc baggie.

“No worries, I can do it,” he offered, smiling.

“You sure?”

You peered up at him doubtfully.

“How hard can it be?”

Turns out, much to Spencer’s dismay, it was harder than he thought.

All the reading beforehand hadn’t prepared him for just how tricky it actually was to start a fire. He was sweating and his hair was sticking to his forehead. Wiping a hand over his forehead, he leaned down to try again.

“Spence, what are you doing?” you asked

His tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated, willing sparks to come from the wood.

“Making a fire,” he grunted.

“Babe.”

He looked back to see a small smile on your face. You held up the bag of tinder you’d brought from home, to get the fire started.

“I already brought the tinder, we just need to get some kindling like tree branches and sticks then some firewood for it and then I can just light it with the lighter I brought. No biggie.”

“Oh, right,” his face flushed pink once again, “Totally knew that.”

You chuckled.

“Come on my little mountain man, let’s get to work.”

After a half hour, the campfire was coming to life and you sat near it, trying to take the chill off that nightfall had brought.

Spencer joined you, wrapping a blanket around you. You smiled at him, pecking his cheek.

“Wanna roast some marshmallows and have some s’mores?” you asked.

“Um, I’ve actually never done that or even had a s’more before,” he grinned sheepishly.

“Oh man. You’re in for a treat then.”

You stood, clutching the blanket around you as you dashed to the tent to grab the ingredients from your bags.

You came back, handing him the items along with a couple of paper plates.

“Here, you get out the graham crackers and the chocolate squares and I’ll go get some sticks for us to roast the marshmallows on.”

He did as he was told and you returned with the sticks to see he’d laid out the graham crackers enough to make two at first, a couple of squares of chocolate on one side.

“I’m impressed,” you commented.

“Hey, I said I’ve never had one, not that I didn’t know how to make them,” Spencer chuckled.

You stuck the ends of the sticks in the fire to sterilize them before sticking a marshmallow on the end of each one.

“Now, all you have to do is stick it close to the flame like this. But not too close. You don’t want to burn it. Then you just simply rotate it, to toast it on all sides. Simple.”

You turn to see Spencer just staring at you blankly.

“Yeah, you lost me.”

You giggled, putting your hands on his stick helping him rotate it, to get the perfect toast.

“You know, to any onlookers, this could potentially look incredibly phallic,” he muttered.

“Spencer!” you hit his arm playfully, causing him to chuckle.

He was a genius, but he could also be a dirty genius, surprisingly enough.

“Now, see? The perfect marshmallow.”

You pulled the stick back for it to cool a second before you popped it off with your fingers, feeding it to him.

“So, what do you think?”

“Wow, that’s actually really good,” he smiled.

“Oh just wait until you taste the s’more then.”

When you’d both successfully toasted more marshmallows, you assembled your s’mores, tapping each of yours together in a cheers before taking a bite.

You grinned big at the childlike wonder on his face after his first bite. You knew chocolate and marshmallow were all over your mouth and chin, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was how amazed he seemed to be at a simple s’more.

He ended up eating three more.

•

With stomachs full of marshmallows and s’mores, you and Spencer laid on the blanket, looking up at the night stars.

Lightning bugs—or fireflies as Spencer kept arguing were their actual name—flew by occasionally, lighting the dark just a smidge with their small spark of light.

“See? That constellation right there is the Big Dipper and that right there is the Little Dipper. Also known as Ursa Major and Ursa Minor,” Spencer pointed out.

“Somehow it doesn’t surprise me that you know that.”

“Technically I know a lot of things.”

“That’s definitely true. Probably more than I could even begin to understand.”

“Which makes it more fun to teach you,” he smiled.

You looked up at the sky, amazed at its beauty.

“I can’t believe how beautiful it is,” you murmured

“You know, I could say the same about you,” Spencer said, head turning to look at you.

You blushed, the compliment warming your heart, no matter how corny it was.

“Thank you for coming with me on this trip,” you said, appreciatively, “I know it’s not exactly your thing, but I’ve had a lot of fun being with you.”

Spencer looked troubled and sat up, his brows furrowing.

“What is it?” you asked, worried, sitting up as well.

“It’s just-”

He ran a hand through his hair, turning to look at you.

“I wanted so badly to impress you but all I’ve done all day is make a fool out of myself. I just wanted you to think I could be capable of doing these things, but I sucked at them all.”

You smiled a little.

“Yeah, you did,” you rushed to finish your statement before he could interject, “But that’s perfectly okay. I’m flattered that you wanted to make a good impression. It was so incredibly sweet of you, Spence. But I don’t love you any less just because you don’t love the outdoors as much as me or aren’t as good at outdoor activities. That’s like me trying to profile a criminal or trying to create a geographic profile. I’d be horrible at those things.”

He laughed, his beautiful smile on full display as he nodded, agreeing with you.

“I’m just glad you came in general. And I want you to have fun as well.”

“I have been,” he smiled down at you, “Because I’ve been with you.”

His lips captured yours in a tender kiss before pulling away, circling his arms around you.

You rested your head on his shoulder, stargazing until your eyes became heavy. You soon found yourself dozing on his shoulder.

“Hey, let’s go to bed, hmm?” he whispered, gently stirring you.

You nodded, standing to pick up the food and blanket while Spencer put out the fire. You headed to the tent, putting things away while he finished up around the campfire.

You were laying out your sleeping bag and preparing to lay down when Spencer finally joined you, zipping the tent closed behind him. He paused, eyeing you and your sleeping bag for a moment, an embarrassed expression crossing his features.

“What’s wrong? You can wait and lay out your sleeping bag later if you aren’t tired yet.”

He hemmed and hawed before finally spitting out what he was trying to say.

“I uh, didn’t exactly bring a sleeping bag.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You do know a sleeping bag is an essential when it comes to camping right?”

You pressed your lips together, having a difficult time trying to hold back your giggles at his expense.

“I didn’t say I was good at this camping thing,” he grumbled.

You shook your head, smiling.

“Just be glad I always pack a double sleeping bag. Singles are too claustrophobic for my taste.”

You opened up the opposite side of it for him to climb in.

“It might be a bit of a tight fit, but we can make it work.”

He slid in next to you, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Thank you for putting up with me.”

“I wouldn’t get any laughs if I didn’t,” you retorted, squealing when he tossed his pillow at you.

“I’m just kidding!” you laughed.

He smiled, retrieving his pillow and putting it back into place at the head of the sleeping bag before pulling you against him. An arm draped around your waist.

“Night, Y/N.”

“Night, Spence.”

•

You thought you’d drift right off, but surprisingly sleep didn’t come easily. You shifted your position multiple times with no luck.

You swore Spencer was asleep too, at least it sounded like it by his deep, even breaths, but apparently he wasn’t.

You were just drifting off when you felt a familiar jab against the back of your thigh.

“Uh Spencer?”

“I know,” he mumbled, “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. All your shifting wasn’t really helping the uh, situation. I’m sorry,” he winced.

You turned to face him, eyebrow quirked.

“I can help,” you said, nonchalantly, already sitting up.

“No, Y/N, don’t worry, I can- I mean you’re tired and-”

But you didn’t listen to his protests. You’d already straddled his legs, your fingers unbuttoning his pants.

“Spence,” you said, serious, “After all the trouble you went to try and impress me today. The least I can do is give you a little something.”

His breath hitched as he watched you pull the zipper of his pants down agonizingly slow, his tongue wetting his lips in a quick movement. His chest heaved just the slightest and you already knew he was anticipating what was coming.

Your mouth met his, the kiss starting off innocent enough but turning fiery rather quickly. The thought of doing something like this in a tent was kinda sexy to you.

His tongue twirled with yours before running over your bottom lip, his teeth biting gently into it as you pulled away, a small whimper coming from him. His semi arousal from earlier was now full blown, you could feel it from where you were sitting on his lap.

Just to torment him a little, you grinded against the bulge in his pants, your clothed core still rubbing against him just right to make you moan right along with him.

You situated yourself where you were level with his crotch as you pulled his pants down his hips, far enough out of the way to forget about them. The same followed with his underwear until he was left exposed to you, hard and throbbing.

Your hand slowly enclosed around him, taking your time as each finger made contact as it curled inwards, touching his cock.

“For fucks sake Y/N, turtles move faster than this,” he groaned.

“I mean I could just leave you to your own hand,” you shrugged, pulling your hand away, acting like you were going to move off of him.

“No, please,” he grabbed your wrist, trying to bring it back to his erection.

“I thought you’d see it my way,” you smirked.

You leaned down, your tongue licking a stripe up his cock, his hips jerking at the movement. Instead of more teasing, you switched it up, taking as much of him as you could in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you sucked, your head bobbing.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, “Yes, baby, yes.”

Your hand occupied the rest of him that your mouth didn’t, alternating your pressure and speed as your tongue swirled around him, stopping long enough to flick over his head, driving him wild.

You felt his hand gripping your hair and you peered up to see him watching you, his teeth bearing down on his bottom teeth, hard.

You sucked harder, willing to give him all he wanted for the lengths he went for you.

“Y/N, shit,” he moaned, his hand finding your shoulder, trying to push you back.

Before you could ask what was wrong, he’d reached for you, pulling your body closer to his.

He mumbled against your lips before kissing you.

“I’d rather cum inside you.”

His hands clawed at the unnecessary material on your lower body, trying to rid of it as fast as he could. His want was overpowering his ability to think clearly, you could tell.

You pushed your pants down and he aided you in kicking them off your legs. Your lips didn’t part from his the entire time.

You’re pretty sure your entire body trembled when you felt his fingertips graze over your soaked core through the satin of your panties.

You anxiously pushed them down, Spencer helping you rid of it the rest of the way.

You couldn’t quite remember how you two managed to get to this point of intimacy in a tent, but suddenly it didn’t seem all that important. All you could focus on was having him inside of you as soon as possible.

Your knees rested on either of his sides and you reached down between you two, guiding him in as you slid down on him, a whimper coming from your throat at just how good he felt, filling you to the hilt.

You hovered over him, your hair creating a curtain around the both of you as you moved on him. Your hands cupped his face, kissing him passionately, occasional moans mixing with your kisses.

His hands were situated on your sides in a constant push and pull of your body, aiding in your own movements.

You broke the kiss long enough for a loud moan to fill the tent as your body moved roughly with his.

“Sp-Spence,” you stammered, your eyes screwing shut at the intensity of your pleasure.

You tried your best to try and focus on him. Besides, it was him you wanted to give the most pleasure to, especially after his commitment to this camping trip, but you found it hard to focus. He had that effect on you. When he was buried inside of you, your mind went hazier than a thick fog.

Your bodies moved in a hasty, lust filled frenzy, each of his thrusts hitting a sweet spot deep within you just enough to send you writhing. You inadvertently tightened around him, causing a deep, guttural moan to sound from Spencer.

“Shiiiit,” he gritted out, hips thrusting upwards erratically.

His sudden thrust elicited a sharp gaspy moan from you. Your eyes locked on his, your pants just about matching his. Other than your heavy breathing and the sounds of your moving bodies, your sounds of pleasure were pretty mild.

His lips found your jaw, sucking on it lightly before trailing kisses toward your ear where he bit your earlobe gently.

“We’re...in...a tent. Be as loud as you fucking want,” he half panted, half growled in your ear.

Your jaw dropped as if his words electrified you, sending shock waves to your core and a high pitched moan from your throat. The build up of your orgasm was coiled in the pit of your stomach. Just like a snake, ready to strike, you could feel the fingers of your ecstasy ready to grab you and pull you under.

With a loud moan of his name, you were coming apart above him, quite loudly too, might you add.

You caught a look of Spencer watching you, the darkness not entirely shadowing your features as he made you come undone.

He swallowed hard, his own orgasm coming quickly. You could tell by his body language and grinded your hips down on him as you thrust, your own orgasm causing you to inadvertently clench and unclench around him.

Spencer was soon to follow, spiraling down the rabbit hole of his own bliss. Your hand gripped the edge of the sleeping bag as you both rode out the remnants of your orgasms.

Your bodies slowed then finally stilled as your lips moved against his at a much slower pace. This was the, soft, sweet, post-coital type of kiss. You let it linger for a second then you pulled back, opening your eyes to smile lazily at him.

The effects of the post-coital bliss were still evident on his face. The dreamy look etched in his features, the sleepy look of his beautiful hazel eyes and the smile of happiness on his naturally pink tinted lips.

He pushed your hair back, tucking it behind your hair as he licked his lips.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You responded with your love for him too, with a shy smile as he kissed your nose.

“Do me a favor?”

“Of course, anything.”

“Make sure to invite me on your next camping trip. I could always use some more practice at sex in a tent.”

You hit his chest making him roar with laughter as you climbed to your side of the sleeping bag, a smile on your face.

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

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evilsapphyre · 3 years

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My husband just asked me if I would be willing to go hunting and fishing. I vehemently told him “fuck no”. I am not an outdoorsy person. I have nothing against either hobby or pastime, but I have zero interest in sitting in silence trying to shoot/hook an animal.

I get that he wants us to possibly do it with our child when the boy gets older. However, I think it is just as important for our son to know that it’s okay to not like something but support others who do it. That it’s okay to say, “You guys go have fun.” That it’s okay for couples to not do everything together.

I’ve told my husband before that the only version of camping that I’m interest in is with a cabin stocked with amenities. I like my creature comforts. I dislike roughing it. I don’t want to suck it up and pretend - because kids see through that shit eventually.

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lynnkn · 4 years

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Get It In Writing

Here’s my Pynch Secret Santa for @betterwithoutsense. One of the prompts was non-magic au. Hope you enjoy!

@pynchpromptweek

Read it on ao3!

Ronan was always an outdoorsy type. His mind moved faster when the world around him moved slower. He liked New York, but it was never meant to be his home.

He had come up with the idea to move back home, drunk out of his mind on a Tuesday, after weeks of trying and failing to churn out so much as a short story, let alone a novel. He hadn’t had an original idea since he was fifteen. It made perfect sense if he didn’t think about it too much. At fifteen, he’d created some of his most original ideas, he crafted plots so intricate they made his adult self weep with jealousy. Characters had come to him like dreams. Nothing he’d written since Declan swept him and Matthew off to Alexandria had come close to the stuff he’d scribbled in frayed notebooks between lessons.

If he did let himself think about it, he’d wonder if it had less to do with the change in locale and more to do with his parents’ deaths.

He’d called Blue the next morning. She offered him the couch at her mother’s house while he looked for a place. He calls her again just as the plane lands.

“Don’t hate me,” are the first words out of her mouth.

“Oh, I love when you start conversations like that.”

“I’m stuck at work.” There’s a shuffling and a crash from the other end of the line, followed by voices. At least three of them are yelling out for Blue. “We’re understaffed. Three people quit last week and I’m the only manager left.”

He makes plans to call an Uber as soon as they land. He hates to do it, but he’s left without much of a choice. He’d avoided taxis and the like for most of his time in the city, but every time he did it, it felt wrong. His skin prickled and pulled like even it knew he did not belong in the backseat of someone else’s car.

“But I sent my cousin to pick you up at baggage claim,” Blue says.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll see you at the house?”

“Yes, definitely! I’ll see you tonight.”

“And thanks for all this.”

“No problem, Ronan.” She huffs a breathy sigh and the phone crackles as she leans in closer to whisper. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too shithead.”

Ronan had met plenty of Blue’s cousins. While the girls come in all shapes, sizes, and colors, they have names like Orla or Chrysanthemum. They wear mismatched clothing and make art out of recycled materials. They’re all indiscriminately weird. He feels confident in his ability to pick a Sargent out of a line-up.

The baggage claim is a confusing swirl of business suits and combat uniforms. He walks past a family carrying a giant banner. But he recognizes none of them. There are no floor-length skirts, no dyed hair. He pulls out his phone to call Blue back when a voice calls out his name. He turns, but he can’t make out who it is. Then he sees him.

He’s leaning against a half-wall, hands tucked into his pockets and a denim jacket tossed over his shoulder. He pushes off with his foot and approaches cautiously. He’s waiting for an answer.

“Yeah,” Ronan coughs out. He’s proud of his own tact and grace for the briefest flash before he opens his mouth again. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Blue said she’d call you.” He shuffles for a moment, grabbing desperately at his phone. “I’m Adam. I’m gonna take you back to the house if that’s cool.”

“It’s fine, man. You’re just not who I expected.”

“Well,” he says, starting a sentence he clearly never plans to finish. “You got bags?”

“Yeah. Wait here. I’ll get them.”

Adam takes the large suitcase and reaches for the duffel, but Ronan shakes his head. Adam shrugs and leads the way to the car. Ronan pulls the bag onto his shoulder and flinches as the bag bangs angrily against his stiff muscles. He moves through the pain, desperately hoping Adam can’t tell he’s struggling.

“So how are you related to Blue again?” he asks, desperate for a distraction.

“Uh, I’m Persephone’s kid.”

He remembers Persephone, long white hair, and a soft-spoken voice. She baked pies and could speak with some level of authority on any topic a person brought up. But she hadn’t had any children that he knew of. And he’s sure he’d remember Adam.

“Oh. Sure.”

“It’s an adoption thing,” he says like he’s not outrageously uncomfortable.

“That’s cool,” Ronan says like he wasn’t wondering. He doesn’t want to push so he lets the conversation float away. He’s a big fan of comfortable silence. The issue is that nothing about this situation is comfortable and he’s drowning in his own goddamn bullshit. He follows Adam to a monstrosity of parts but resists the urge to comment. This clearly isn’t the kind of car a person chooses for themselves. They exchange nervous smiles over the trunk and settle into their seats.

Adam clearly knows where he’s going so Ronan settles back in his seat, watching D.C.fade away. When the world turns green, he lets himself feel at home.

“Blue talks about you a lot,” Adam says.

And that’s the funny thing because he’s talked to Blue a lot in the years since he left, but she’s never mentioned Adam. He searches his memory for any mention or comment on the addition of a new cousin, but there’s nothing. He’d told her about every gruesome, gory detail of his move to Alexandria, of school, and Declan, and Matthew. And then when he’d moved to New York, he’d told her about his building and the shitty people he talked to and he’d laid all this on the line without considering that she was still in Henrietta and her family was changing and he didn’t even know. Why hadn’t she told him? He only lets it sting for a moment. Then he numbs it with a promise to talk to her later.

“Yeah,” he says. “She’s my best friend.”

They don’t talk much more on the drive, but Ronan watches Adam out of the corner of his eye. He’s the kind of guy a teenaged version of himself would’ve fantasized over. His hands grip the wheel and his tongue sticks out the side of his mouth as he focuses on the road. His eyebrows hang heavily over weary eyes. He’s a strange guy, a unique blend of old and young, of new and refurbished. He’s a lot like the car he drives and Ronan wonders if this body is also the kind no one chooses for themselves. But he can't stop staring nonetheless.

The house looks like itself when they pull up and a strange warmth pools through his gut. He breaths in the air as he steps out of the car. It’s lighter here. The air hits the bottom of his lungs and he pulls another breath in just to hold it there. To breathe. If he forgets, he can pretend he’s fourteen and coming over to borrow a cd. Or that he’s ten and coming to watch a movie his parents wouldn’t let him watch. Or that he’s seven and going over to play at a friend’s house for the first time in his life. He could stand out there all day, but he wants to see Maura so he hauls the stupidly heavy duffel over his shoulder and goes inside.

“Ronan? Is that you? Get your ass in here.” Maura’s voice blends with the hum of the laundry machine and children screaming somewhere down the hall and it’s a sound so wrapped in nostalgia, Ronan can’t remember what year it is. He follows the sound to the kitchen where she waits with open arms. He leans down to let her pull him into a hug. Behind him, the screen door slams as Adam comes in behind him, but he doesn’t pull away. “How’ve you been?” she asks, finally pushing him back to take in the sight of him.

“I’m alright.”

“You’re staying with us for a while?”

“Is that a problem?”

“You know it’s not.” She turns back to the counter in front of her. She has a sheet of pepperoni rolls half wrapped and lined up on a strip of parchment paper. She grabs the dough and goes back to work as Ronan leans against the counter, watching her fingers delicately shaping the rolls. “We’re a lot nicer to the boys than we used to be, right Adam?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says brushing past both of them on his way out the back.

“Oh I’m convinced,” Ronan says.

Adam stops and quirks a quiet smile, the kind Ronan wasn’t supposed to see. He turns back to them. “I promised Calla I’d fix the porch rail.”

“It can wait if you want some lunch," Maura says.

“I’d rather finish it up before class.” He looks like an animal caught in a trap, leaning towards the back door and letting his eyes wander out the window. “But I’ll take a pepperoni roll when I’m finished if you’re offering.”

She nods at him and this seems to be a dismissal because he’s out the door before Ronan can blink. As soon as he’s gone, though, Ronan is thinking about him again. About how strange he is and how much stranger he seems in a house like this. He shouldn’t fit in and yet, everything about him makes sense.

Ronan washes his hands and picks up a strip of dough, following Maura’s gentle instructions. She reaches over and fixes each roll he makes, but he doesn’t mind. He lets her fix his mistakes with no more than an overdramatic eye roll. And she doesn’t comment on his lack of manners. Maura never expected him to be polite, so long as he was kind.

Blue doesn’t make it home for another two hours. By that time, Ronan is full of pepperoni rolls and Adam has gone to class. He waits for her on the porch and she runs and jumps into his arms the moment she sees him. He picks her up, sweeping her feet out from under her. He’d hit a growth spurt a month after leaving town and hadn’t stopped until he was ducking in doorways.

She startles, but he’s strong and he’d chop his own arms off before he hurt her.

Blue and Ronan had been the weird kids of their homeschool co-op. She yelled about the patriarchy during history and he knew more about Irish folklore than algebra. She hissed at the other kids and he hit anyone who made fun of her.

“I knew you’d come home eventually,” she says.

“Then you must be psychic cause I didn’t know until last month.” He hugs her and she still smells like the tree in the backyard and pixie sticks. All is right with the world. She doesn’t look all that different either. She grew maybe another inch or two, but all-in-all, she’s still what he remembers. He wonders if she’s disappointed cause he sure as hell isn’t the Ronan she knew.

The passenger side door shuts and a man climbs out. His hair is neatly combed and his shirt is ironed. He sweeps a hand over his tie and waves at the two of them.

Blue waves back. She glances over her shoulder at Ronan, hesitant and curious. She waits for a reaction, but Ronan has nothing to say. He watches, slack-jawed and stupid as the man approaches. He kisses Blue on the cheek and offers Ronan his hand.

“You must be Ronan,” he says. They shake hands, a sweaty affair that Ronan pulls away from as soon as he gets the chance. “I’m Gansey.”

“Can you give us a minute?” Blue says. He grins back at her and then at Ronan, slipping into the house, leaving silence in his wake.

“Anything else you wanna tell me?”

“Well John Boy, things have changed here on Walton’s mountain.” She laughs at her own joke, watching for Ronan to join her. When he doesn’t she sighs. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were miserable, Ronan,” she says. “And don’t say you weren’t I could tell. I just didn’t want to rub it in your face.”

“You still should’ve told me.” It burns, like every other little hurt. These days, Ronan can’t seem to feel anything a normal amount. Every prick is a white-hot scorch. Every ache is a broken bone. One day the floor fell beneath him and the pain gets worse every time he hits another level of concrete and earth.

Blue nods and she turns, just enough to the side so Ronan can’t parse out her face. He can’t read her anymore. And so he falls again.

“And what about Adam?” he asks.

“What about him?”

Ronan’s not even sure himself. But he shows up in the same shitty town he’s always lived in and he comes back to a place that had once been his second home and this guy is here, just waiting and he’s everything Ronan thought he’d wanted back then. His perspective is tilting. He thinks about the guys back in New York: Proko, Skov, Swan, and Jiang. He thinks of Kavinsky and how much sense they made. He thinks Adam seems like the kind of guy who’s going to get him hurt. He thinks of how much he’d love to let someone like Adam hurt him.

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“I didn’t know how to,” she says. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“Then why send him to pick me up?” Ronan leans into her, watching for a flicker of something recognizable. The Blue he’d known never lied to him. She was honest, sometimes brutally so and she never hid anything from him. They’d talked constantly over the years. And while he’d unloaded all of his bullshit on her, she’s remained mysterious in regards to her own life.

“I think you’ll like him,” she says. “He needs someone like you.”

“I’m not trying to fuck your cousin, Blue.”

“I’m not suggesting you fuck him. I just thought you could be friends.” She rubs her hand over her eyes, pulling her features in a sharp downturn. “I was gonna say the same about Gansey.”

He lets the breath out of his cheeks and watches the wind blow through the grass. It's grown long, just the way Blue likes it. He lets the wind move him like the grass, swaying gently until he feels grounded. He’s not mad at Blue. Not really. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“I just want to make sure you have a support system here.”

“I do,” he says.

“Besides me and my mom.” She wipes at her eye again and Ronan graciously ignores the single tear.

He gestures to the door and the family waiting inside. “Well then let’s go.”

Blue smiles and Ronan remembers why he’s here in the first place. Blue is something stronger, more prominent than anything in New York. She makes him stronger, louder. It’s not just about Henrietta or the mountains. It’s in Blue’s smiles and Maura’s eyes and the strangeness of them all. This is where his story is waiting for him. It’s always been here. Ronan is the one who left.

Soon they’re all sat around the table for dinner. The conversation is light and easy. No one pushes Ronan to talk about what he’s been doing in New York and he’s eternally grateful for that. They talk about Blue’s job at Nino’s and Gansey’s parents’ real estate business. He promises to help Ronan check out some of the properties in the area. Adam excuses himself early, claiming he has to get up early for work in the morning.

“What do you do?” Ronan asks, helping Maura clear the table.

“I work at the Greenmantles’ farm up in Singer Falls,” he says. And Ronan feels his heart drop all the way to his ass. “It’s this really old shitty family farm that this guy bought a few years ago. And he has no idea how to run a farm so it’s a disaster.”

“Oh,’ Ronan says. “That’s my house.”

Adam’s eyes widen to twice their regular size. “I…”

“It was always kind of shitty,” he says.

“Yeah.” Adam stands awkwardly behind his chair, perhaps waiting for an appropriate time to bolt. Ronan breaks eye contact, hoping to put him at ease.

But the idea of his home, fallen into disrepair bothers him more than he expected. He remembers the Greenmantles. He doesn’t remember them fondly. He turns to go outside for another breath of fresh air. As he heads for the door, Ronan hears the exchange between Adam and his mother.

“You couldn’t have told me he lived there before I opened my mouth?”

“I could’ve,” she says, placing a palm on the top of his head. She plants a kiss on it and walks to the sink to wash out her mug. Adam, for what it’s worth, smacks his head against the doorframe.

He spends the next night, sitting on the blanket with Blue and Adam and their friends. Gansey’s there, as is his friend Henry. Noah, one of Blue’s coworkers turns up with beer. And they sit in the grass watching the stars. It’s not until they’ve been laying there for a couple of hours, laughing and teasing like they’ve always been this way, that Ronan realizes how much he needs this.

As the others trickle inside for air conditioning or food or sleep, Ronan and Adam are left alone for the first time since the car ride.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t like me very much,” Adam says.

“It’s not that,” Ronan says, hands folded behind his head. The stars are duller here in Henrietta proper, but it’s the closest to home he’s gotten in years. “I just realized Blue hasn’t been telling me shit. I didn’t know about you. It’s not personal.”

“That’s probably my fault. I told her not to tell people.” He bunches a corner of the blanket in a tight fist, before releasing it and smoothing it back out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“I just…” He stops, just long enough that Ronan doesn’t think he ever plans to finish the sentence. Then he groans like he’s forcing the truth from someplace buried within him. “Things weren’t good at home so when Persephone offered…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Still,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good.”

The beer is warm and settling in Ronan’s stomach in that way that makes him a little worried sometimes, so he sets it aside. He closes his eyes and reminds himself why he stops. Because it would be so easy to keep going. But he actually likes talking to Adam, and he thinks he might even want to remember this conversation in the morning.

“Blue said you’re a writer?” he asks.

This is a tightrope. Ronan calls himself a writer. His father had called him a writer. Even Declan, for all his infuriating nagging, calls Ronan a writer. But he has nothing to show for it. Nothing’s proud of. People use to ask him this and he’d pull out notebooks full of stories. Sometimes he’d just recite stories from memory like Niall once had. But now, he has nothing to show for the title. He’d trusted the story was here, buried in the hills of Henrietta, sleeping, waiting.

“I guess I am,” he says.

“What do you write?”

“Fantasy.” It’s one of the oldest truths he has to give.

“Only fantasy?” Adam asks. “Never anything else?”

Ronan shakes his head. He’d never had much use for anything else. He’d grown up with his father's stories, grandiose and ridiculous. He’d never conformed to the rules of the mortal world and Rona’s narrative imagination took the hint and ran with it. He silently begs Adam not to ask about his work anymore. Hopes to God he won’t ask to read anything. And he doesn’t. Instead, he tips his head up toward the sky, eyes tracing patterns of stars overhead.

“Tell me something about you,” Ronan says when the silence lingers too long.

“Like what?” He doesn’t move, chin tipped up the heavens and Ronan studies the curve of his jaw.

“Anything true,” he says.

“I’m deaf in my right ear.”

“Really?”

“No,” he says. He’s got a gentle smirk that charms Ronan more than he’s willing to admit. “It’s my left.”

“Can you hear me okay now?”

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s quiet.”

The summer passes in hazy waves, washing over him every few weeks as he watches time slip away. He’s done nothing. He’s written nothing. But he tours properties with Gansey and makes art with Blue. He buys a skateboard and lets Noah teach him a few tricks and he let Henry take him to Henrietta’s newest and only gay bar. It’s not the best summer of his life, but it comes pretty damn close.

And then there’s Adam who listens better than anyone he knows. They sit together, nearly every day, either on the porch or in the kitchen. Sometimes they drive miles away from the house in Adam's car, away from Henrietta and they park and they talk.

He tells Adam about the farm and Adam tells him about the trailer. He talks about Declan’s nagging texts about college and Adam talks about using the money from the Greenmantles to pay for classes and textbooks at the local community college.

In September, Adam’s car falls to shit in the driveway and several hours under the hood aren’t enough to fix it so Ronan drives him to work in Maura's car, promising to bring it back immediately so no one got stranded at the house.

He follows the gravel driveway, following the curves and dips just as he had once upon a time. He doesn’t watch Adam, but he can feel himself being watched. “This is where I’m gonna live,” he says, pulling in behind a car too shiny and new to fit in with its surroundings. “I don’t want to buy another place.”

“You mean this is it?” He looks over his shoulder out the window and Ronan watches the line of his shoulder crease. If he could, he’d trace a finger over, push in where the skin dips beneath bone. He turns back before Ronan can pull his gaze away. “This is your perfect house?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“No. I guess I just assumed this place would be…”

“Traumatic?”

“Honestly? Yeah.” Adam's gaze floats back to the open field. Ronan can't tell if the expression is jealousy or pity. Maybe it's both. “You don’t see my buying my childhood home.”

“I loved that house. I loved the farm. I could get cattle.”

“You’re gonna buy cows?”

“No, but I could if I had this place.”

“You could always ask if they’d be willing to sell?”

“You work for the guy. Do you think he’d sell it to me?”

He doesn’t answer, just watches the house, eyes full of hope or envy or something dangerous like that. When he turns back, the light of the sunset hits his face and everything seems right. Ronan can picture them sitting on the porch, sipping tea or bourbon on the front porch. He wants this. He wants him. He wants, wants, wants so much it hurts. He reaches, but the whole world lays on a shelf above him, just out of reach.

His mother used to hide cookies on the top shelf, saving them for after dinner. When he closes his eyes, Ronan can see his father’s arm stretched upward pulling the cookie jar down to Ronan. “Just one,” he’d whisper and they’d never speak of it again. Until the next time.

Adam leans forward, pressing warm lips into his and it’s that hand reaching out to him, pulling things down to him that once seemed so impossible he could cry.

He nearly does when Adam pulls away, slowly with a single breath. It was a period, not a comma. It was a thought, not an answer. They let themselves freeze, both leaning over the center console to breathe against one another’s collarbones. This was impossible.

“Do you wanna come look around?” Adam asks.

“Isn’t that a little risky?”

“Mr. And Mrs. Greenmantle aren’t home,” he says. He leans over to unlock Ronan’s seatbelt and the feel of Adam’s arm brushing against his stomach could convince him of almost anything.

“Okay,” he says.

Adam takes him by the hand and leads him around the house, past the empty cow pastures and the shiny new silo. He introduces him to Mr. Gray and the other farmhands and they regale Ronan with stories about Adam at work that make his cheeks flush bright pink.

They climb up the hill and past the old storage shed, just the two of them.

“That thing’s still around?”

“Yeah. It’s old as shit. I can tell.” Adam kicks up some gravel and a small cloud forms around his ankles. “A lot of the old equipment up there’s never been used. Greenmantle just leaves it lying around and sends me up there twice a week to look for something.”

“Yeah. That roof leaks every spring.”

“I know. I keep bugging him to have someone look at it.” He shrugs, the noncommittal gesture of someone who is used to being ignored. Ronan takes care to grip his shoulder with a weighted strength. And he looks at this guy, so fucking beautiful and so capable, and wonders how anyone could see him in any other light.

“Show me the house,” he says, wrapping his other arm around Adam’s waist.

“We’re gonna get caught.”

“Then we’ll have to be fast,” Ronan says. “Lucky for you, fast is my specialty.”

“Stop,” he says. He pushes away, without a second glance and bolts for the barn as soon as he’s out of Ronan’s grip.

“Hey,” Ronan calls after him. He watches as Adam turns, pulling anxiously at his bangs as they flop into his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I just miss this place.”

He thinks of the smell of cinnamon in the kitchen and the dent Declan’s head made in the hardwood and the green slime stain on the carpet in Matthew’s room. He wants it back even for a moment. He wants it more than anything. Anything except Adam.

But Adam pulls another breath into his lungs and says. “Okay, but we have to be quick.”

He takes Ronan’s hand in his, leading him toward the house, pulling at his finger and the heat trapped between their palms travels all the way up Ronan’s arm. He lets himself be dragged until they reach the porch. He pulls a key from the sconce and opens the front door. The same one Ronan remembered. He could picture his mother, standing in the foyer if he focused.

The craziness of it all strikes him as he stands there. He thought he’d never see this place again, but he’s standing there and he’s so close to what he wants and yet so far. So he pulls Adam in for another kiss, this one messier, hungrier. He buries his hands in the hair on the back of Adam’s neck.

“What are you doing here?”

Ronan turns back to the open door and there is Greenmantle in all his smarmy glory. Ronan previously thought his teenage memories had exaggerated, but he was clearly right all along. This guy simply looks like a bastard.

“Sir,” Adam says. It’s a plea, a desperate Hail Mary from someone Ronan once thought was too proud for such things.

“Get out,” he says. He holds his hand out and Adam slowly drops the keys. He doesn’t look at Greenmantle or Ronan. He watches his feet. Ronan can’t help but watch him. “And don’t come back. You’re done.”

They don’t talk on the way back to the car. There is nothing to say. Adam slams the door as he sits. He makes a sound, so low, so guttural, Ronan would’ve thought it came from one of the animals.

“You took it too far. I lost my job, Ronan!”

“I know that.” He puts his keys in the ignition and lets the engine roar to life under them. He feels better, but Adam clearly doesn’t. “I’m sorry.”

“If I don’t have a job, I can’t keep paying for school.”

“Listen, I know. I’ll help you. It’s not like I’m gonna let your freeze out there.”

“Oh yeah, cause your dream comes before everything else, huh? What about my dream?” He takes a harsh breath and hunches over the dash, refusing to meet Ronan’s eyes. It’s possible there are tears, but Ronan feels too guilty to look more closely.

“What fucking dream, Parrish? Your big dream is to spend the rest of your life slaving away so some dipshit in suit and tie gets to summer in Guam. That’s not a dream. That’s a nightmare.”

“It’s better than this.” He drops his head to his knees, burying his face. He has nothing to worry about. Ronan couldn’t look at his face if wanted to. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“Then let help you find something better.”

“This is why you don’t know anything about Blue. You’re too caught up in your own bullshit to realize the rest of us have stuff going on too.”

He drives Adam back to the house without another word. He doesn’t go inside. He doesn’t want to see anyone else. He wants to drive. He takes the backroads too fast and the curves too sharp. He lets the road lead him to the convenience store just up the road. At least he saves the whiskey until he gets back to the house.

When he wakes in the morning, he doesn’t remember much after he got back. But he’s on the porch, back aching and head throbbing instead of tucked away on the couch, so he’s willing to bet it didn’t go well. Maura is sipping tea at the kitchen table. “Wanna tell me what you were doing out there? With my car?”

He shakes his head. He tests his voice, but it’s rough and gravely. He clears it into his fist before trying again. “Is Adam here?”

“He went to talk to Greenmantle.” She sips her tea again, placing it beside her. She looks up, trying to look him in the eyes, but Ronan stares at the table, the floor, anything but her face. She gives up, crossing the room to fill a glass with water from the sink “Blue and the boys went with him,” she says, handing it to him. "they said they were going to get his job back."

He sips at it cautiously. It lands in his stomach with a splash, so he stops, letting it settle before sipping again. “I need to go see him.”

“Is that a good idea?”

He drains the rest of the glass in one gulp and sets the glass back on the table. “I don’t know,” he says. With a clearer head and a couple of Ibuprofen, he hops in his car and prays for one more miracle.

Mr. Gray is there when the BMW crawls up the drive. He directs Ronan to the old shed, before reminding him to not get caught.

Adam’s got the door to the shed propped open so he sees Ronan coming from a mile away. “Go,” he says once they’re close enough to talk without yelling.

“Parrish, I just wanted to apologize.”

“Don’t pull a muscle.”

“I’m trying to act like a grown-up here. Would you come talk to me?”

“Talking to you got me stuck up here cataloging inventory in the first place. I had to beg for my job back.” He drops an ax beside him with a resounding crack that catches them both off guard. They stare at each other for a moment, caught up in their confusion before Adam turns back to his work. Ronan can’t look away. “Just leave me alone. We can talk tonight.”

The crack returns followed by a crash and Adam’s head dips beneath the stacked crates without time to so much as scream.

“Parrish!”

He rushes forward, forgetting to consider the already fragile flooring. It bends and moans in front of him. He pulls back, leaning over the boxes to get a view of the hole, slowly spreading as bits of wood flake off. “Parrish?” he yells begging his friend or God for an answer.

Both God and Adam seem to have other plans as Greenmantle rounds the corner. “What the hell was that sound? What are you doing here?”

“Parrish, can you hear me?” He waits for an answer. A beat. Nothing. He’s not a patient guy, but he waits for a second longer, prays for so much as a grunt or groan, but nothing. “He fell through.”

“What do you mean he feel through?”

“I’m not a fucking contractor. He fell through the fucking floor. What else do you need to know?”

Mr. Gray is there in an instant. He stays back graciously and doesn’t seem interested outside the basics. “Is he responding?”

“No,” Ronan says. He thanks God that someone else is taking over the situation because he's beginning to feel horribly unqualified. “I think he’s unconscious.”

“Do you have your phone on you?”

“No. I left it in my car.”

Mr. Gray turns to Greenmantle wordlessly. The two exchange looks that seem to cycle through an entire exasperated conversation before Greenmantle spits out “I don’t have service out here.”

“Ronan?” Blue yells, rushing forward. Henry, Noah, and Gansey follow her. He holds out a hand to keep them back. He watches the hole, waiting for it to spread, and feels it bobble beneath him. He’s not safe either and he knows it, but if someone else comes inside, they’re definitely fucked. He looks at her though and the unshed tears in her eyes undo him.

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he can say anything. He’s trapped leaning over a hole and Parrish is trapped and the whole world is pulling in toward him and he doesn’t have the strength to fight it off. Still, he says “I’m okay. But if I move the rest of this place is gonna cave in on him.”

Gansey runs up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He tucks her into his chest and they both stare back, discomfort clear in their eyes. They flash him matching encouraging smiles through the fear.

“I’m gonna call 911,” Henry yells, sprinting back across the field from where he came. No one stops to thank him.

“Is this really necessary?” Greenmantle asks.

“It may be a while before anyone makes it out here,” Mr. Gray says. “Ronan, if we can get you out, they’ll be able to get to Adam quicker. Can you sit down where you are?”

Ronan pushes a box of small garden tools off to the side, clearing enough of a path for him to sit down. He lowers himself gently, holding his breath the whole way down. He doesn’t release until his ass hits the floor.

“Good,” Mr. Gray says. He leans forward, peering over the mess to meet his eyes. Ronan sees his own fear and panic reflected in the man’s eyes. “Now roll onto your stomach, okay? You’re gonna crawl.”

He pushed himself over, turning as slow as he could. The floor groaned again beneath him. “This isn’t working. This is all gonna end up on top of him.”

“No. It’s not. You’re going to crawl toward me. You ever play army guy when you were a kid? It’s just like that. Keep your stomach on the ground and crawl.”

Ronan crawls. He can't see the other from the ground, but he can hear them talking around him.

“We can’t get to Adam until we’ve got him safe," Mr. Gray says. His voice is calm, but in the overly-controlled way that indicates a person is not actually calm at all. “If we tear down that back wall, we may be able to dig through to him.”

“We might just end up staking more debris on top of him,” Greenmantle says.

“I don’t know how else to access him.”

“There’s a crawlspace,” Ronan says. He pulls himself past an old ladder, taking care to avoid rusty nails and a suspicious stain. He thinks about his last tetanus shot and decides a booster couldn't hurt.

“What?” Greenmantle leans down to stare at Ronan through a gap. Ronan ignores his furrowed brow and exasperated tone.

“There’s a crawlspace underneath.” He pulls himself another inch and Gansey is there offering a hand. He takes it graciously and Gansey pulls him the last few inches off the foundation and through the doorway. Mr. Gray leans over and tugs on his other hand pulling him up. He’s still coughing from the dust and panic as he throws himself around the corner of the building to the small wooden door.

The deadbolt gives way with little fuss despite the copious amounts of rust around it. “Adam?” he yells into the entrance, but there’s still no response.

“I’m little,” Blue says. “I can fit more easily.”

“You’re not dressed for it. There’s ticks and shit down there.” He hurriedly tucks his jeans into his boots and slides through the door before anyone can stop him.

He can see the damage as soon as his eyes adjust to the dark. And then he’s army crawling again. He pulls himself forward, pushing past bugs and dirt and what he thinks was once a raccoon. He crawls until he reaches and a chunk of wood too big to move. He has no leverage in the slim space around him. He can barely push himself up. His shoulders are squished in too tight to move anything heavy. He kicks himself for not thinking of a better plan. He crawls around the wood, blinking dust from his eyes and searching for any sign of Adam.

He peeks past the beam to see a clear space on the other side. He sees the ax to his left. He’s here. He’s somewhere in this place. He’s so close Ronan could touch him except he’s hidden and not responding. “Adam?” he yells one last time.

There’s a groan, soft and pained, but a groan nonetheless.

“Ronan? Can you hear us?” Mr. Gray yells.

“Yeah,” he calls back. “Kinda busy here.”

“You need to get out of there, Ronan.”

“Let me just get to him.”

“Ronan, now!” Gansey yells.

There’s another crack and a plank falls on top of the stack. But it stops as soon as it starts. The dust settles into his eyes and he can’t see in front of him, but he can hear the gasps and murmurs from above him. “I’m okay.”

“Ronan get out now.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Adam coughs. It’s harsh and pained, but it’s the best sound he’s heard because he can tell where it came from. He pulls the ax toward him. There isn’t room to swing, but he doesn’t want to anyway, not with Adam so close. He smashes it into the block of wood. It doesn’t split, but he’s got enough force to crack and splinter it. With a few more strikes, it breaks away just enough to wiggle. He pulls it back, throws it over his shoulder and there is Adam.

He’s pale, coated in a layer of dust and grime and his temple’s a mess of blood, but he’s the best thing Ronan’s ever seen. He collapses by his side, sweeping a hand over the blood clumping in his bangs. He weighs the danger of spinal injuries against the threat of another collapse. The voices screaming above him win out. He ends up pulling Adam behind him, trying to keep his head and neck as steady as possible.

Mr. Gray waits at the door and Ronan is more than happy to hand Adam over to him. He pulls Adam into his arms and immediately heads for the driveway where an ambulance is pulling up. Ronan falters back a step at the ominous task of pulling himself back out.

When he turns back to the opening, his friends are there. Noah and Gansey reach down, grabbing Ronan by the biceps and hauling him out with minimal assistance from himself. Henry hands him a bottle of water and a towel as soon as he touches the ground again. And Blue says nothing, simply throws herself at him, face into his chest, and hugs tighter than she ever had before. And he lets her.

And when he starts coughing, they help him sip from the water. When he coughs so hard he throws up, they pull him to his feet, dragging him toward the ambulance as well.

In the end, Ronan’s lungs are okay. He’s advised not to inhale large quantities of dust again. He tells the ER nurse where she can go. It’s all quite civil as far as Ronan’s concerned.

Persephone hugs Ronan as soon as she arrives at the hospital. She doesn’t say anything, just wraps her arms around him in a gesture he understands as a thank you. He doesn’t tell her it was no big deal, but he squeezes her back and hopes the message is clear.

Adam’s broken arm, three broken ribs, and moderate concussion are fairly underwhelming as far as structural collapse injuries go. “What did I tell you?” he says that evening when he’s staying awake for more than 30 seconds at a time. “I’m hard to kill.”

No one finds this quite as funny as Adam, but he’s awake and healthy enough to be laughing.

When Greenmantle arrives at the hospital, not twenty minutes before the end of visiting hours, Ronan is fully prepared to drag the man from the room, but Adam stops him. “Actually I’ve been wanting to talk. Please, Mr. Greenmantle. Come sit.” He takes the only seat in the room, facing across from Adam like a business meeting. Adam drops a folder on the stand over his bed. He pulls the papers out and spreads them out. “Here I have copies of my timesheets, dating back to last June with reminders from me to call a contractor about the shed. And you signed off on all these, didn’t you?” Greenmentle nods, Adam's apple bobbing anxiously. “What do you think a lawyer would think of these, Mr. Greenmantle?”

“Well, I — uh.”

“But I don’t really want to sue you.” He sweeps the page back up into a file and slips them back into the folder. “This isn’t some sort of moral high ground thing either. I should sue you. I just think we can solve this without any lawyers, don’t you?”

“I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.”

“So what do you say, you sell my friend Ronan your farm and we can all go about our lives.”

“Well I’m sure we can talk about prices, but this particular property is quite valuable. I’ll have to get a fair price for it of course.”

Gansey steps forward, clutching his own folder. This one is red and labeled “Greenmantle can suck my Dick III.”

“Actually we have some numbers here for you, sir.” He shuffles through the papers contained and pulled one from the bottom of the pile. He folds it over and presents it to Greenmantle with a flourish, that is unusually snarky for Gansey. Ronan finds himself charmed by it.

“This is considerably less than I paid, Mr. Gansey.”

Adam clears his throat. “Yes, but let’s pretend I did take you to court. If you look here, this is an estimation of what you’d be paying based on some employer negligence data I found. So all in all, I think you’ll find that to be a very fair price given what you could end up paying.”

“I see…”

“And of course, this way your wife never has to find out about any of this. She didn’t want you spending too much on the property if my memory serves me well.” It’s bold talk from someone who slurred and mumbled his way through the alphabet just a few hours ago, but he’s bouncing back fast. “Sleep on it. Come talk to me again tomorrow.”

Greenmantle shuffles out of the room, clutching the paperwork to his chest. Ronan likes his odds.

The nurse knocks softly on the door. “Visiting hours are ending soon,” she says. “One of you can stay with him overnight if you want, but everyone else needs to head out.” Persephone scoots closer to the bed, wrapping her fingers lightly around Adam’s wrist and Ronan wouldn’t dream of trying to fight her over this.

Ronan pats Adam twice on the leg, a friendly gesture and nothing more, but fingers grip at the hem of his jacket.

“Can I talk to Ronan alone for a minute?” he asks Persephone, who nods quietly and shuffles out with the rest of the crowd. And when it’s quiet and everyone else has become a memory, Ronan pushes himself up onto the side of the bed, leaving little room for Adam to wiggle himself up into a seated position.

“Stop,” he says. “Don’t hurt yourself. Jesus, Parrish. They’re gonna kick me out for good if I knee you in the ribcage.”

“I’m real sorry, Ronan.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize just cause I saved you. I would’ve done it anyway.”

He leans back, petulant as a child. “I’m not. But I went too far and I am sorry.” He grips the blanket like that night under the stars before releasing it again. "What I said about Blue..."

“You weren’t wrong. But I'm gonna do better Parrish. I want to be better.” He watches the way Adam's brow creases and for the first time in a long time, he understands why people keep going when shit sucks. If he’d known that face, scrunched and focused as he chewed on the edge of his swollen lip, was waiting on the other side, he never would’ve considered any other option. This was what people live for, this feeling here. This is what people write poems and songs and fucking dystopian YA trilogies about. There's an entire story in the shit-eating grin. And he found it. The goddamn holy grail. “I just want to see you happy.”

“And that dream thing? You were right," he says. "It turns out I’ve been paddling upstream for nineteen years without ever knowing where the creek drops off.”

“Then you draw your own map and you figure out how to make the water do what you tell it.”

“And what are your big plans, Lynch?”

“Haven’t you heard? I’m buying a farm.”

#the raven cycle #trc #pynch #adam parrish #ronan lynch #alcohol tw #abuse tw

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ghostofbambifanfiction · 4 years

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I’ve just been having a bit of a rant at @dancemajicdance about this because of how angry this makes me, but I just for a moment want to talk about this book I once read that enraged me beyond reason.

The book is about this cardboard cutout of a woman named Lucy who works in PR because don’t they always?? Lucy lives with her best friend Henry. Henry has obviously been into her for years but Lucy isn’t interested in him because he has glasses and wears rugby shirts and I guess his hair is a bit scruffy? And she’s a shallow asshole I guess.

Lucy has terrible luck with men because every time she dates one she pretends to be into what he’s into with disastrous results. One time she dates this outdoorsy guy who is big into hiking and he takes her on a nature trail or a rock climb or something idk, and she decides to go wearing heels. HEELS. Like I get that it’s meant to be a fun comedy moment or whatever, but... HEELS??? ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID LUCY? HIKING IN HEELS? The answer is yes. Yes you are stupid. That goes beyond having a bad habit of imbibing a man’s interests to seem more desirable because I can see why some women fall into that trap and I wish they would love themselves more. You are beyond that. You are stupid. You are so stupid and you do not deserve to make decisions.

Anyway, at one point of the book Henry’s like “just be yourself” and Lucy’s like “yeah fucking right Henry like you have any luck with women” and a thoroughly SCORCHED Henry agrees to get a makeover overseen by Lucy’s sassy friend Dominique, who the book should have been about. Dominique makes Henry wear contacts, cuts his hair and buys him more stylish clothes and guess what? GUESS. WHAT? Suddenly Lucy’s interested in Henry! WELL GEE THANKS LUCY. He is a sweet and supportive person who has been your best friend since you were children but I guess now that he’s hot he’s good enough for you?? Good enough for you, a woman who wears heels on a nature hike???? Of course they wind up together in the end but how fucking SHALLOW is that premise?? Imagine being with someone and ALWAYS knowing that you weren’t good enough for that person until the day you improved your appearance??? But also can you IMAGINE if I wrote that makeover into a fic? Can you IMAGINE if I had James wear contacts and cut all of his hair off and change his clothes because he thought he wasn’t good enough for women as it was? The combination of knowing he felt that way about himself + the haircut alone would break Lily’s heart. She would suffer ACTUAL LOSS. She would be DEVASTATED. She'd be crying into a pint of ice cream and singing Memory while she watched the terrible Cats remake WITHOUT IRONY and James would be standing there like, "Why have you been sobbing for the sixteen solid hours that have passed since I came home from my makeover?"

Oh, and at the end of the book Lucy’s parents’ house burns down for no fucking reason whatsoever idek it added nothing to the plot at all just a weird deviation from the story where I guess we’re meant to feel bad for this trash human being because her parents are sad, and I’m sorry to shit all over someone’s work of fiction but the whole “they’ve had a makeover, now they’re appealing!” trope has always really bothered me and it was particularly grating in this book and I’m just really mad about it now that I’ve remembered it.

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viinas-writes · 3 years

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Fire and Silver: After the War - Ilum and Charity

Something old-ish that I recently found. I miss these guys. I love writing soft scenes like this more than big action sequences. I’m just a big fan of character dynamics. And these two are particularly fun for me to write.

I’d never been to the big lake on the outskirts of town. It was a still, quiet area where old guys would take their boats or outdoorsy people liked to go canoeing. Aero once told me that when he was young, he and Vanessa would come to swim. According to him, being surrounded by nothing but water, trees and sunlight made it feel as if time didn’t exist.

He’d soon come to regret the sentiment. He couldn’t come back to this lake without remembering all the time he’d taken for granted, pretending that the company of the one he loved most gave him immunity from the time he’d one day be desperate to get back.

Despite it all, I couldn’t help but understand what a younger Aero saw in a place like this. The setting sun skimmed the horizon and glittered over the water. It was glass-smooth, expanding beyond my field of vision and disappearing into a blur of white. Strokes of pink and gold painted the sky and shone over the foliage in a way that looked surreal. It would be easy to get lost in a place like this. Silent. Vast. Peaceful.

Charity sat at the very end of the dock, her black hair streaked with gold sunlight. She was dressed in the same casual getup I’d grown used to -- loose white tank top, faded shorts, and a red flannel shirt tied around her waist. It made me think of a version of her from a different, ostensibly simpler time, eyes filled with fire as she pinned my wrists to a wall and demanded I help her. We’d been so ill equipped then, but somehow, it was only the beginning of what would become a lifetime of chaos.

The dock let out a low croak under my footsteps as I made my way down. Charity startled and cast a glance over her shoulder. I saw her lips pull into a grin.

“Stalking me?” she asked.

I approached her, stepping into the same light that made her shine gold. I took a seat next to her on the edge of the dock, letting my legs dangle above the water.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I teased. She wasn’t entirely off, though; I did come hoping to find her.

Aero wasn’t the only one who had memories of this lake, after all.

“Sure,” she mused, swinging her long legs back and forth. She glanced up and down my body, then asked, “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Fine.” I stretched my arms over my head until my shoulder gave a satisfying pop. She wrinkled her nose. “You can barely tell I was fighting for my life just last week. It’s sweet to know you’re concerned, though. You must have missed me terribly.”

Charity snorted. “Is it too late for you to slip back into a coma?”

“Alas. Here I am. Forever and always, baby.”

“Call me baby again and I’ll kick your ass into the lake.”

I laughed and whatever tension may have fallen over us since the end of the war shattered, just like that. I felt my chest fill with warmth. For the first time in days, things felt normal.

“You didn’t just happen to stumble upon me, though,” she said, more quietly. To her credit, whether it was a light moment or not, she always knew my intentions.

I followed her eyes to the surface of the lake where I could just make out our silhouettes reflected in the dark water.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” I admitted.

She leaned back, pressing the heels of her palms into the dock. Her eyes remained fixed on our reflections. “Of course I’m okay. It’s over, right?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

I touched her arm and her gaze met mine. God, those eyes of hers. They were ocean-blue and compelling, like sirens dragging me under. It was part of what made it so easy to trust her, and what made it impossible to lie to her.

“I get trying not to fall apart in front of Caleb, your uncle, or even our friends,” I said. “But it’s just us right now.”

She sighed, letting her eyes flutter closed. She nodded once.

“I think I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to find meaning in everything we did out there,” she said. “And even if I do, a part of me will always be in that asylum, or on the forest floor, or on the other side of Aiden’s knife.”

She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing the goosebumps pebbling her arms.

“It’s over, but it’ll never be over. Not really,” she said. “I knew that when I signed up for this and I’m trying not to have any regrets, but if you want to hear the truth...this is it.”

“Do you resent me for it?”

It was an unspoken question between us since the day I roped her into this mess. But now, past the battlefield and the settled dust, when there was nothing left to anticipate, only reflect upon, I had to know.

“No,” she said immediately. “If there’s anything I’m sure of, it’s that I don’t regret any part of this that had to do with you.”

“Why?” I asked.

She gave me a sad smile. “You know why, Ilum.”

My heart leapt in my chest. I was brought back to the morning of the infiltration, when she kissed me in the car, and then the night after, when we fell asleep entangled in each other’s limbs, the other’s desperate kisses still stinging our lips.

Yes, I knew why. I should have hated myself for it.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t when the road to Hell also brought me to her.

“I know what you mean, when you talk about it all lingering,” I said.

Trying to find the right words with Charity was worthless. The only way we knew how to communicate was by emptying our hearts into each other’s hands. So I didn’t rifle through my brain or think. I gave her what she deserved and what I knew how to give only to her.

Honesty.

“It’s like when a lost spirit clings to you and you don’t know how to help them cross over,” I went on. “It’s a burden you’re not sure you deserve, but one only you can carry. It’s a personal Hell too unique to explain and you feel like even if they find their way to the other side, a part of their soul will always be with you. I still feel that way about Aiden. Sometimes I wake up and I’m not sure whether it’s me or him inside my head.

“But I’m trying to come back. Every day, I look at Aero, Avril, Hel, Ellard, you, and I remember that this war has taken so fucking much from me and I’ll be damned if it takes anything else.”

Despite herself, she gave me a crooked grin. “You know, a past version of you would have considered that selfish.”

“Maybe I am selfish.” I turned to face her. An inky strand of hair fell in between her eyes and I carefully moved it aside, letting my fingertips graze her jaw. Her breath hitched and her cheeks went a beautiful shade of pink. “I don’t want to waste anymore time. Life is too short.”

She swallowed and studied my face. “What are you saying?”

“I want to kiss you.”

I could feel my face prickling with heat. I’d never felt so vulnerable and confident all at once. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted from a lot of things. I didn’t know where the next phase of my life would take me or whether I’d ever fully recover from the things we experienced.

But Charity? She was the only thing I never had to question. Right here, trapped in her gaze, and grounded by her honesty, I was safe.

She smiled and suddenly the sunset looked pale. “Well, don’t be a coward.”

So I took her face in my hands and kissed her. She smiled under my lips and leaned into it, wrapping her arms around me, gripping the back of my shirt.

I thought of our first kiss and how it was one-sided and hasty, and then the night after the infiltration when we kissed to lose ourselves. This time, we took it slow, knowing that for once, we didn’t have to worry about it being the last time. I ran my fingers through her silky hair, savored the rose-petal softness of her lips, and admired the way the curves of her body fit against mine.

Kissing her like this was like breathing for the very first time. I fell open under her touch and at that moment, I was willing to tell her every secret, give her everything I ever had and show her everything I ever was.

Maybe I already had.

Maybe that was why this felt so good.

“You’re beautiful,” I murmured against her mouth. I kissed her again, and again, and again.

When we pulled apart, she was flushed all over and her hair was disheveled. I wanted to kiss her again but instead, I watched the rise and fall of her chest and the way the sunlight shimmered over her skin. Beautiful wasn’t the right word. Right now, she was downright ethereal.

“I…” She shook her head and giggled. “Sorry...I just...are you sure about this?”

“About…”

“Us,” she clarified, then blushed deeper. “Because I know how I feel.”

Charity took my hand and wove her fingers through mine.

“I’m sure about you,” I said. If there was a shred of certainty in the aftermath of all this, it was Charity.

She leaned back in and left a kiss so soft on my lips it made me shiver.

“So am I,” she said.

#original #fire and silver

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spookbusters · 5 years

Text

Heat of the Summer

Summary: Ray and his s/o try to keep cool during a heatwave!

Pairing: Ray Stantz x Reader // Warnings: None!

You woke up that morning sweatier than you thought you’d be.

Your tank-top clung to your skin, your hair was sticking to the back of your neck.

You actually felt a little icky.

Further investigation showed that it was 97 degrees outside and your A/C was broken.

You wake up Ray, your boyfriend of several years, and tell him the horrendous news.

It was both of you guys’ day off, so you were a little disappointed that it’d be too hot to do much of anything.

But you decided at the last minute to make the most of the situation instead of being upset.

So you run to the toy store, grab some water guns (which have managed to not run out), and go home to fill ‘em up.

Cue the bikini and swim trunks as you chase each other through the apartment pretending to be spies or something.

You’re spraying water at each other, laughing like kids, nearly slipping on the slick tiled floor.

Ray wins when he finally gets you cornered in the kitchen, stuck between the counter and him.

You pretty much do as many outdoorsy summer activities as you can in a New York studio apartment.

Which include catching tans in the “pool”, complete with polka dot bikinis and striped swim trunks.

The pool is just your bathtub, which happens to get some sun from the window.

It’s actually a really fun time, despite the raging heat. It encourages both you AND your boyfriend to come up with creative ways to beat the heat.

And beat it you do!

The A/C gets fixed in the later evening after you’ve cleaned up the water that’s all over your floor, and the sun has set.

You decide that maybe, just maybe, you’ll consider voluntarily turning off the A/C to do this again someday.

#Ray Stantz #ray stantz x reader #ray stantz x reader fic #ray stantz headcanons #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters headcanons #ghostbusters #ghostbusters 2

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queenofbaws · 4 years

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Day 23: Camp

Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Sam Giddings, Josh Washington (special guest appearances by Ashley Brown and Chris Hartley because, uh, I’m the writer, obviously) Rating: T (Language, some smoOCHIN’) Words: 2,621 Author’s note: It’s been a lil’ bit since I’ve subjected you guys to my Jossam obsession. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Looks like it’s time to break that dry spell. ---

“Spill it.”

“Spill what?”

“Josh.”

“Yeeeees?” He assumed a perfectly innocent expression as he turned around from zipping the tent flaps, smiling even as he saw the doubt written plain as day across Sam’s face.

She didn’t say anything at first, figuring she’d give him an opportunity to dig the hole even deeper…but when he just kept smiling that cheesy Boy Scout smile at her, she rolled her eyes. “I don’t know who you think you’re fooling with any of that, but I think we both know you’re plotting something.”

He pretended to splutter out a series of insulted noises, “Plotting? Me?! Honestly Sam, you wound me. Is that all I am to you? A scoundrel? A rapscallion? A scheming little—”

“Just tell me what it was now so that I’m not disappointed in you later, okay? Let’s just fast forward the tape on that and get it out of the way.” The fabric of the pop tent made a high-pitched squeak as she scooted forward on her knees. She grabbed one of the lanterns they’d been using earlier and held it up to his face as though she was an especially outdoorsy FBI agent trying to interrogate a suspect. “Chris and Ashley might not’ve noticed while they were swatting mosquitoes, but let me tell you something—I noticed.”

Josh raised his eyebrows coolly. “You noticed nothing.”

Sam jammed the lantern closer to his face, actually bonking his jaw a little. “Oh. Ohoho. Oh no, no, see, you fighting me on this is only making me more certain that you’re planning som—”

“Sam. Sammy. Samantha.” He set his hand atop the lantern and gently (oh, so gently) pushed it down until it was out of his face. It was easier to lie when his retinas weren’t being scorched. “Do you really think I’d drag you guys out into the middle of the woods, hours away from society, and do something nefarious?”

She blinked once, her expression unmoving.

“Maybe,” Josh continued, shrugging his shoulders in a bid to look nonchalant, “I just wanted to bring my bestest buds in the whole world out to witness the splendor and the beauty that is Blackwood Pines. Maybe I thought it would be fun if we had a little campout.” He paused for effect before shooting her the most charming look he could muster. “Is that a crime?”

Now, to his credit, the most charming look he could muster was, in fact, pretty damn charming. Exceptionally charming, really. But it was also his downfall—it cemented in her mind that he was going to pull something over on them, and getting spooked on top of a mountain, surrounded by nothing but woodlands full of wolves and bears and, and…raccoons, probably, wasn’t exactly her idea of a great time. “If you wanted us to enjoy the mountain’s scenery,” she began, narrowing her eyes with every word, “We would’ve stayed at the lodge.”

When he took a second too long to say anything, she dropped the lantern and clapped her hands together in vindication.

“I knew it!”

“You know nothing, Jon Snow. Listen.”

“You’re gonna scare us, aren’t you?!”

“I said listen.”

“You brought us all the way out to the freaking guest cabin to scare us? You knew we’d be tired! Oh, you are such a weasely little—”

Joshua Washington was a man who knew when he’d been beat. Usually he pushed that knowledge to the side, played a game of hide-and-seek with it until he could pretend it away, but just then he thought he was willing to make an exception. “I knew Cochise and Ash would be tired,” he said slowly.

And that…that didn’t quite address what she’d been talking about. Though she suspected that was just another one of his tricks to get her off his scent, she went quiet, cocking her head to the side expectantly as she waved him on to continue.

He watched her for a moment before rolling his eyes. Leaning back towards the front of the tent, he carefully unzipped one of the smaller meshed-in flaps meant to be a window. He scooted to the side just enough that Sam could see the silhouette of the guest cabin out front, though with the sky being almost pitch-black, it was little more than a black outline against the stars, a couple tiny squares of orange light standing out in the windows.

Turning around again, Josh waved towards the sight as though he was the lovely assistant of a game show bringing the audience’s attention to a sixteen-piece dinette set. “I knew,” he began once more, speaking with the cadence of Sherlock Holmes explaining why the butler couldn’t have possibly been the murderer, “That after that hike, those two nerds would be beat. I also knew that if we kept them up long enough with, say, maybe a campfire and a few rounds of s’mores, they’d be so fucking sick and tired of the bugs and sweat that they’d completely pussy out on the whole sleeping-under-the-stars part of the deal and go running into the guest cabin to sleep.”

Sam folded her arms across her chest as she listened, drumming her fingers against her arm. “I’m following you so far.”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that, Sammy.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“But mostly,” Josh said, zipping the window shut so they were once again cut off from the rest of the world in their little blue nylon tent, “I knew if said campfire involved a few of my more…well, let’s just be honest with ourselves here…masterful ghost stories…”

There was no describing how hard she snorted at that, rolling her eyes so hard she was half-surprised they didn’t pop right out of her head. “Oh yeah, masterful.”

“False modesty is half the sin of pride, Sammy.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

He reached over and ruffled her hair so it fell into her face, ignoring her protests even as she tried to wrestle him away. “As I was saying! I knew if I pulled out the top-shelf Tales from the Crypt, eventually—and you’re gonna love this part, Sammy—eventually Ash would get so spooked that she’d refuse to be anywhere up here alone.”

By the time she managed to push his hand away, her hair was a mess of unfortunate cowlicks and fly-aways. She tried to smooth it all back down, but it was immediately clear that was going to be a losing battle. “I don’t see your point. Are you expecting me to like, help you jump out and scare them, or…?”

Josh groaned loudly and flopped onto one of the unrolled sleeping bags with a dramatic sigh. “You really think I’m a one-trick pony, huh? Is that what I’m getting from this? You think the only thing I’m capable of is scaring people? For your information, Samantha, I have a very wide array of skills that include, but are not limited to, let’s see, uh: cooking omelets,” he began ticking each one off on his fingers, “Putting USB cables in the right way on the first try, doing handstands, losing my car keys, remembering obscure trivia about late 90’s Nickelodeon cartoons, dry-swallowing pi—”

She joined him on the floor of the tent, laying on one side with her head propped up on one hand and her other covering his mouth. “Please get to the point.”

With his face covered as it was, all he could do was quirk a mischievous eyebrow at her. When she pulled her hand away he snickered. “Aw c’mon, it’s no fun if I gotta spell it out,” he joked. “But fine, fiiine. Since you’ve forced my hand…” He laced his fingers behind his head in a makeshift pillow, wriggling this way and that to try and find a somewhat comfortable position; the sleeping bag under him was fine, but the ground underneath the tent itself left something to be desired. “The guest cabin only has one bed.”

Crickets.

Like, literal crickets.

Sam didn’t respond at first, letting that unassuming factoid stew in her brain for a second as the crickets and the night birds outside made their quiet music. Then, slowly, she felt her own grin start to creep its way across her face, not half as devious as Josh’s (obviously), but just as gleeful. “Are you…kidding me? Are you kidding me?”

He beamed. “I am not.”

“You did—oh my God. I knew there had to be a reason you, like of all people, would willingly hike with all this camping gear, and…it was all—”

“To make them live out the real-life fanfiction we’ve all been dreaming for them. Yes. I’ll accept my award for Best Director now, thank you, thank you. Best Producer too? Oh, you shouldn’t have…”

She laughed, giving him a good-natured shove as he pretended to wave and blow kisses to his adoring fans, waiting a good ten seconds to burst his bubble. “But uh…isn’t there a couch in there?”

Josh stopped mid-pageant-winner-wave, eyes going wide and thoughtful in the lantern’s light. “…fuck.”

She couldn’t help it—she snorted again, harder than before.

“No, I…no, okay, hang on, no, this…this is still salvageable!” He propped himself up on one arm in much the same way she had, gesturing vaguely with his other hand. “That couch is absolutely prehistoric, I’m talking Flintstones-era. I’m pretty sure there are chips lost in those cushions that are older than me. Even if one of them does the whole shy, embarrassed bullshit, they won’t last five minutes on that rickety piece of shit.”

“You don’t think?”

“No way. Not five minutes. Then it’s all ‘Um, uh, s-sorry if this is weird, but…could I maybe, um…stay in here tonight? W-with you, I mean?’”

“Was that supposed to be Chris or Ash just then?”

“You couldn’t tell?”

Sam leveled her gaze at him. “I can never tell.”

He pulled a face at that, widening his eyes and letting his jaw fall open, pressing the hand he’d been gesturing with to his heart. “How…dare you.”

“Uh huh. Well. Now that that’s all out in the open…” Sam let her head dip a bit to the side while she sized him up, “Any other underhanded plots you’ve been keeping quiet?”

“Underhanded? Absolutely not.”

Did he actually think he was slick? Unfortunately, she had a pretty good idea of the answer to that.

“Really,” she drawled, reaching over and turning the lamp off, the button making a satisfyingly solid click as she did so. “You had absolutely zero ulterior motives? This incredibly convoluted plan was just an excuse to poke fun at Chris and Ashley?”

“I’ve done much more convoluted shit for lesser reasons, Sammy.”

Well, he had her there. That much, at least, was true.

She hummed a low reply to that, her grin slanting into something a little bit different once her eyes adjusted to the low, low light the stars and moon gave them through the tent. “Riiight. And it had absolutely, positively nothing to do with getting me alone?”

Josh feigned insult for the hundredth time that night, and nothing about it was even vaguely convincing that time around. “I would never.”

“Oh no?”

“Nonono.” There was another one of those high-pitched squeaks as one of them (or maybe it was both) moved that much closer in the dark, guided more by each other’s voices than by their outlines. “Now, is it a welcome side-effect of my genius plan? Sure. Sure, I can admit that much. A very, very wel—”

Sam was kissing him before he could get any deeper into his self-aggrandizing, her hands fumbling around in the dark until she managed to pull him down onto the flattened sleeping bags with her. It seemed she’d stumbled upon the one thing he’d rather do than pat himself on the back, and she made a very careful note of that for, y’know, the next time he started up.

He was more than happy to let her drag him down, one of his hands finding the curve of her jaw to tip her head back just slightly, just a bit, teasingly nipping at her lower lip before flicking his tongue across it, deepening the kiss into something more.

Sliding her fingers up to angle in his hair, Sam pressed herself closer, feeling the sleeping bags stick to her skin, and—

BANG!

They froze like deer caught in headlights, both abruptly turning towards the source of the sound. Its echoes tore through the mountain air, doubling and trebling to sound like furious applause before dropping off.

For a second she was terrified…and then she groaned, shoving Josh off of her. “You putz! You were going to scare us!”

“I, uh…” Josh frowned, feeling around the tent for the lantern or either of their phones, anything to give them more light. “I know you’re not gonna believe me on this one, Sammy, but that…wasn’t me.”

And shit, he sounded just uncertain enough that she believed him. “Well then what was that?” she hissed, having much less trouble finding the lantern than he had. Her mind swam with images of hunters, of bears crashing through underbrush, of the goddamn stupid ghost story about the flesh-eating monsters Josh had told them about over the fire…and then she heard the footsteps.

They both heard them—quiet at first, then growing louder and louder, more frantic, footsteps beating against the grass outside as they came closer to the tent, absolutely barreling towards them, and then something solid smacked into the front of the tent, pushing it inwards.

It was a toss-up which one of them yelled louder, honestly. Real close call.

A second later, the zipper to the tent positively flew downwards, a figure tumbling into the lantern light with them.

“Jesus tap-dancing Christ in a birchbark canoe, holy fuck!” Chris scrambled into the tent, tucking himself against one of the corners.

Not even a moment after that, Ashley tumbled in behind him, scrambling to zip the front flap shut. “Geez Louise! That was…augh!” She turned to Sam and Josh, eyes so wide they seemed to take up half her face, “There’s a frigging bat in the cabin!”

“Fuck that, that was not a bat,” Chris cut in, “That was fucking Batman, that’s what that was. Thing was big enough to eat a cat, what the fuck! What the fuck!”

Sam and Josh stared at them for a long moment, both very clearly trying to keep their hearts from exploding.

“I…what?” Sam finally managed.

“A bat!” Ashley repeated, shuddering all over before sliding into one of the open sleeping bags. “Ew. Ewewewewew. I hate this. I hate this so much. This is why I don’t do camping trips. Just…what if it had rabies?!”

“Yeah, fuck that noise. I’m not looking to get a bunch of shots in my belly because Count Chocula back there decided to get frisky.” He shuddered just as Ash had, settling himself against the opposite wall of the tent.

“Well we’re, uh,” Sam cleared her throat and did her best to smooth her hair down. “We’re glad you guys are…okay.”

“Yeah,” Josh agreed, his voice flat, “Stoked.”

The two of them exchanged a look before shrugging, Sam turning the lantern off once more so they could at least make an attempt at sleep.

“I mean honestly, it’s probably for the best,” Chris said once they’d all scrunched themselves in, “Did you guys know there’s only one bed in there? That would’ve been crazy awkward.”

Silence from the guys’ side of the tent. Then a muted thump! followed by an ‘Ow!’

Sam had to press her hands to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

#until dawn #jossam #josh washington #sam giddings #queenie writes challenge stuff #queenie writes supermassive #my fanfiction

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ambitionsource · 4 years

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Hi, I am so here for all this ambition content right now. I check this page every day! I remember u guys mentioning about a rl and dasher road trip and I was wondering about that! Thank you!

hello pal!! literally so honored and happy that you’re enjoying ambition and the fact that you check our page every day... ugh you’re too sweet. hopefully the nonsense we do around here is entertaining! very happy to have you in our fandom community <3

so yes, rl + da road trip! i hope it’s okay that i took a bit to answer this, bc i wanted to ruminate on it for a bit before typing it up. so as y’all know we refer to the summer between s1 and 2 as “cruel summer” (thank u tswift), and similarly we have a code name for the summer between s2 and 3 which is “summer of love.” this is admittedly mainly because of rl, but also because a majority of the characters are in such a better headspace this summer than they were last.

boppin the rest under a read more, because i just go on... and on... and on............. (i really love rl & da)

-- Maggie

one facet of this summer is that around... july sometime, dylucasher decide they want to take a trip down to virginia beach (or the beaches in that general vicinity) because they want to check out a beach that isnt grey and cold like the ones close to them in ny, and because a trip before their last year of school together seems like a fun and Classic idea. originally they plan it for just the three of them, but somehow riley comes up and all of them agree -- especially dylan -- that it would be way more fun if she came along too. so they try to convince her to come along, which doesn’t take much convincing, it’s more so about figuring out how she’s going to get around cory because if he knew she wanted to go on a like week long trip with her boyfriend (who he doesn’t really trust) and two other boys he would probably have a heart attack.

you know, it would be like “you can’t go on an overnight trip with three boys!!!” “dad, you know dylan and asher. they’re gay. they’ve been dating for three years. they’re GAY. i do not think i’m at ALL at risk in that scenario???” fsdfSDKGDL

so riley devises a plan / cover story that involves like “going to stay with mom” for a few days, maybe a lie about staying over at isa’s or yindra’s for a couple days in there, you know, she lays out the whole lie and then bribes maya to go along with it and help cover her tracks (rl have very inverse influences on one another -- where riley sort of tames lucas and helps calm him and make him less feral, she develops a bit of a rebellious streak from him or just better identifies the nuances of which rules should be followed vs which were meant to be bent or broken..)

the good thing about this road trip is that it’s what truly cements riley’s friendship with dylan and asher. they’ve been toeing the line of friendship for like two years now (as riley said in cruel summer, she regretted not taking the time and establish a friendship with them in sophomore year before everything fell apart), and it’s kind of like it’s bound to happen. riley and asher takes a little more time to grow and develop just because of the kind of person asher is, but on this road trip dylan and riley just Click. like they were basically made to be best friends, dylan is the first person who kind intrinsically Gets riley and they match each other in terms of enthusiasm / personality / brightness. again, a friendship that’s just been Waiting to happen, and this trip really brings that to the forefront.

(on that note, i once joked that when dylan and riley get really into chatting about something and lucas zones out, they start sounding like the villagers in animal crossing to him. like if he stops paying attention for even a second suddenly dyley sound like this. and i stand by that claim.)

as for the trip itself, its not like i have the whole thing perfectly plotted or anything like that, more just... musings and ideas. oh and a playlist, of course i have a playlist. obviously they’re really good about swapping around drivers and sort of organizing their time since they only have a week, and i think it’s mainly funded by dylan’s youtube vlogger coin. asher helps and riley chips in her fair share, but dylan basically covers lucas because obviously he can’t pay but they all want him there. he makes up for this by driving the most even tho the other three insist its not a big deal.

when it comes to sharing space, the quartet of them are pretty good at it. obviously when they stop for the night they just share beds by couple, but it is interesting to think about how different these two relationships are in terms of like... you know, where they’re at. like its super easy for da to share a bed because they basically do that all the time now, but for rl breaking that boundary would be a kind of unspoken big deal and lucas would be so cautious about it. like they spend most of the summer in riley’s car (can’t hang out at her place with cory there and no one is going to lucas’s) and so theyve probably like fallen asleep together there once or twice and maybe napped ONCE at riley’s place when maya and cory were both gone in the 2.5 months they’ve been together, but it’s still... not the same. so at first lucas would be really nervous about it, but after the first couple of nights he’d relax and realize its really not that big a deal -- esp since riley seems pretty confident and comfortable with it. by the end of the week, lucas wakes up in the middle of the night and riley has cuddled up next to him and he’s like... okay MAYBE sharing a bed with someone makes points. perhaps.

one of the nights on the way down the coast, what truly breaks the ice for dylan and riley is that they break out a SMALL amount of alcohol and both get tipsy (which for them is just like. giddy and giggly and very chatty. they’re both happy drunks without a doubt). lucas and asher don’t indulge bc lucas doesn’t trust himself getting intoxicated and asher is just wary of it in general, but they figure dyley can do it as long as they’re both supervising. so dylan and riley talk A LOT that night and truly form their Kindred Spirit bond and also lucasher end up regretting letting them drink bc for like a half an hour dyley do this thing where they just pretend to share secrets with one another. like they theatrically whisper in one another’s ears and look at lucasher while they’re doing it and then start laughing and they’re literally not saying anything Important (like it’s probably like riley being like “psst... i think lucas is... hee hee... lucas is hot”) and then dylan cracking up and agreeing but bc lucasher don’t know what they’re saying they’re like ha ha very funny........... but y’all aren’t talking about us doe right. wait, what did you say. hold on --

a lot of the trip is also based around being in nature and the outdoors, since they don’t get to do much of that day-to-day in manhattan. considering one of their favorite spots to hang out as a group during senior year is at central park, they’re all definitely fresh air outdoorsy kind of people to a degree. so like, stopping at parks, going on hikes, and of course the beach itself. i made an instagram edit of one of said hikes when i was testing a template i made:

naturally, and i swear this happens at least once on a long road trip whether it is with family or friends or any combo of people, but you hit a point where you get irritable and start to get a little sick of one another. i think in this case that mainly starts between lucas and asher, because although they’re Best Friends i think lucas has a knack for finding ways of irritating him. and also lucas probably gets irritated by dylan’s high energy after too much time with no breaks, so he’s also snappy, and as they’re on the way back up to nyc people are spatting at one another or getting snippy over stupid things so riles is like. here’s an idea! how about we split up for the day when we get to philadelphia. this is an excellent idea and none of them are opposed, so when they arrive in philly, dylan and asher split off to go explore the city + historical sites.

what do riley and lucas do? well, riley takes lucas to meet her grandparents, of course.

at first lucas is like ummmmmmm no because he’s SUPER nervous about meeting her family -- the only family he’s met is cory and we know that’s... unideal, and eric, both of whom have a completely different perception of him bc of school and his behavioral record. he’s yet to meet topanga or auggie yet or anything like that -- but riley assures him that her grandparents are chill and she has no doubt she’ll like them. they’re also meeting lucas with a completely blank slate (i.e. no preconceived notions about him like those who work at aaa), so it’s not hard for lucas to make a good impression since he really is like... a good guy. not to mention no way is he snarky or deadpan in situations where he doesn’t feel comfortable or like he has the right lmao, so he’s on his BEST behavior around amy and alan.

the good thing is that alan himself kind of had a similar background and run on the wild side that lucas does (kind of like jack, altho jack was never as troubled as lucas), and so i think he would kind of... inherently Get him. like he’d strike up a conversation with him and at first lucas would be like omg why is this man speaking to me please i’m invisible pretend i’m not here... but after a bit he’d find it’s surprisingly easy to talk to alan. and they’d talk for like an hour and get on pretty well. meanwhile, amy is talking to riley and is like so... let me guess. cory does not know you’re traveling with your boyfriend???? and riley is like... perhaps. maybe don’t tell him? pretty please? and once amy convenes with alan and is like how is he and alan is all “he’s fine, we can approve,” then they agree not to rat riley out.

riley and lucas also climb up into the matthews tree house and take a look around and they comment on how strange it is that cory and eric once used to like, hang out in there and in that house and were once teenagers (lucas: be careful this is humanizing your father too much for me). and i’d think they’d sit up in the treehouse for a little bit and just talk and riley would talk about how nice it must’ve been to grow up in the suburbs like this, and she’s surprised when lucas agrees and he admits he fucking hates living in manhattan. and that kind of prompts this subtle internal thinking in both of them of like hmm well... maybe in the future when things are different and we can make our own rules maybe we’ll move out of the city and into a quieter life... they don’t say any of that out loud, but they’re both thinking it. and at the tail end of that conversation riley kisses lucas which turns into a Really Good Kiss... but then they’re interrupted by amy calling for them to come down for dinner and its kind of like lmao, they’re both a little bashful but in a casual silly way

#riley x lucas #dylan x asher #riley x dylan #rl x da #SOL #bonus content #kind of lol #is this readable? who knows. i just really Love them #thank you for asking about them!!!#there's also an insta edit buried in here gJFDLGH #Anonymous #answered #high praise tag

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deadbiwrites · 5 years

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PROMPTS!! I want a pumpkin picking date with Kara pouting a lot bec Lena said they can’t just casually take the 800lbs pumpkin home. Bonus points if Lena caves and ends up paying some guy enough money to buy it and supergirl flies it back to their apartment to carve it. Maybe it can’t fit through the door?? I’m not sure.

(Oh my WORD, it took forever and a day to get this to post but I did it, dammit! @valkyrieskwad , this one's for you! Cross-posting it on Ao3!!)

"You want to what?"

Kara grins and bounces in place, totally unperturbed by Lena's decided lack of enthusiasm. "Pumpkin picking! There's a patch, like, an hour away. It's so cute, I follow them on Instagram, and everyone looks like they're having so much fun in the pictures! It's almost Halloween, too, so we need to go soon or all the good ones will be gone."

"The good ones…?"

"Pumpkins, Lena! Pumpkins! C'mon, please?"

"Isn't this exactly the sort of thing Alex makes fun of people for? Being basic?"

"Alex doesn't know what fun is if there aren't guns involved, so who cares? Please, babe? Be basic with me!"

Lena arches a brow at her, already caving under the weight of her girlfriend's boundless enthusiasm and the rare (and doubtlessly strategic) use of 'babe'. "Is it a muddy field?" she asks suspiciously.

"Uh… wear boots?" Kara tries, still smiling. "We can take the baby. He'd love it, and we need to work on socializing him, right?"

Lena turns her attention to the little white puppy snoozing on her lap, running a hand over his back absently. "I mean, yes, we do, but a farm?"

Kara's affronted, or at least playing at it. "Uh, I halfway grew up on a farm, thank you."

"And look what's happened because of it."

Kara laughs, shaking her head, somehow charmed even though Lena knows that she's being a brat about this whole thing. "Why do you hate pumpkin picking?"

"I don't like doing things unless I'm already good at them."

Kara scoffs at this. "You can't be bad at picking pumpkins, Lena. It's just like when you were a kid."

The long stretch of silence at this is telling.

"Lena," Kara says slowly, "have- have you ever been to a pumpkin patch?"

"I buy pumpkin at the store in a can, like a regular person. Half the work, half the price."

"But you can't carve a can of pumpkin puree!"

More silence. Krypto wakes up, shakes his whole roly-poly little body, and lays back down for another nap, snuffling as Lena rubs between his ears.

"Lena. Please tell me you've carved a pumpkin."

"I- I've seen people do it, so-"

"Oh my GOD."

"Kara-"

"What- what did you do at Halloween? No pumpkins! That's like half the fun, aside from all the candy and costumes, and…" Horror spreads across her face almost as fast as a creeping red flush spreads over Lena's. "Honey. Sweetie. Baby. Please, please tell me that your childhood included just one iteration of a normal American Halloween…?"

"Define normal..."

Kara jumps up from the couch, fuming. "I'm gonna punch your mom in the boob. Is it Tuesday? They do visits at the prison on Tuesdays, right? Because, like, I know she's in prison, repaying her debt to society, or whatever, but I'm still gonna go punch her in the boob."

Lena grabs Kara's hand, tugging her to a halt. "Alright, first of all, I appreciate and share the sentiment. Second, please never put your hands anywhere near my mother's boobs. Third, we're gonna stop talking about my mother's boobs, forever. Starting now."

"That's just… why does she suck so bad. Like, so, so badly, she sucks as a person. So bad. Badly sucks."

"Okay, yeah, you're doing that thing where you're so mad you make word puzzles, so I need you to sit down and hold this puppy." Lena lifts Krypto (who growls his fiercest growl and bites her fingers for disrupting his 18th nap of the day) and pushes him into Kara's arms, gratified when she instantly melts, just a little. "Better?"

"Yeah." She heaves a sigh and drops onto the couch beside Lena once more. "Look, if you really don't want to, we don't have to. But it is fun, and it is a disgustingly cute couple-y thing to do, which I know you love even if you pretend you don't."

Lena scoffs. "Prove it."

"You drag me into every photobooth you see and have a collection of all the photos in your desk at work."

Lena flushes a little more, knowing that she's been caught. "It's fun?" she asks quietly, spinning her chunky silver ring around and around on her finger.

"So fun. And it's a good excuse to get out of the city for the day." Kara scoots close, tipping her head so it knocks lightly against Lena's. "Instead of beating up your mom, what if we just make sure you get to do all the stuff you missed, like pumpkin patches and carving Jack-o-lanterns, and all that jazz?"

Lena considers this. "So, we're doing this at least partly to spite my mother?"

Kara beams at her. "Yep! You're gonna get all muddy doing something frivolous just because it's fun. She'd hate it."

"When are we going?"

It's a few days later that they're piled into a borrowed pick-up truck and coasting out of the city in the early morning. Lena has relented the wheel, for once, conceding that she hates driving outside the city and she has no idea where they're going. At least Kara was right about one thing- Krypto is already having a blast, trying his best to stick his entire upper body out the window, and yipping in annoyance when Lena continuously pulls him back into the cab.

One benefit, though, is Kara in what she calls her 'farm clothes', a heretofore undiscovered genre that involves a sturdy and well-loved pair of leather boots, what is clearly a men's flannel shirt tucked into a pair of faded jeans secured with a heavy leather belt, and a goddamn trucker hat.

Lena's really annoyed at how much this look is working for Kara.

Totally annoyed. No other emotion. Or like, squirmy feelings about it in general.

None at all.

"... and of course we'll get some breakfast- hot cider and doughnuts sound good to you?"

Lena blinks, realizes that Kara's been chattering this whole time. "What was that?"

"I asked how you feel about getting some breakfast. You okay? You're kinda spacey today."

"Says the girl from space," Lena snarks.

Kara rolls her eyes, amused. "That joke was only funny the first hundred times."

"Still makes me laugh."

"Fine, fine. But you're good? 'Cause I can hear you thinking, over there."

"I'm good, I just… is it stupid that I'm nervous?"

Kara takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. "Not at all. But you don't need to be nervous or anxious, because it's fun. Okay?"

Lena nods. "Okay." She shifts a bit on the old-school bench seat in the truck. "Why did we borrow this thing, again? My cars are a lot more comfortable."

"Well, Frank would yell at me if I got mud all over one of your cars."

Lena snorts. "He would not, he loves you."

"And, this way, we can get a big one." There's an almost manic gleam in Kara's eyes that's distinctly disturbing.

Lena chooses not to ask questions.

It is not a muddy field.

The dirt road they pull onto doesn't look all that promising at first, but the pumpkin patch itself is pretty, in a rustic, outdoorsy sort of way. Even early in the day there's a decent crowd here, and Kara grins at the sight of the picturesque red barn a ways away cheerfully advertising cider and doughnuts inside. "Nice! I hoped they'd still be doing the cider and stuff!" She hops out of the truck and rounds the front to help Lena down- whoever this behemoth belongs to had installed a lift-kit to it, and it's a fair few feet to the ground.

"I thought this was a pumpkin patch?"

"Well, yeah, but there's an orchard next door or something, so they have apples and pumpkins. And pears, apparently. Ha! A-PEAR-ently! I'm funny," Kara cackles, settling her hands on Lena's hips.

"You're lucky you're so cute," Lena snorts and scoops Krypto up, bracing a hand on Kara's shoulder as she's lifted easily out of the truck and onto the ground. "But you being able to just pick me up like that? Always a turn-on."

Kara laughs, loud and surprised as a flush creeps up her neck. "Good to know."

Lena smirks and sets Krypto onto the ground, and their day begins.

"So," Lena drawls, chewing an admittedly delicious cinnamon cider doughnut, "what constitutes a good pumpkin?"

"Well, obviously, you don't want a squishy one."

"Obviously."

"Tiny ones are cute, but it's really hard to carve them."

"Noted."

"Other than that, it's all personal preference. I say go big or go home, Alex likes the really round ones, Eliza likes hers to be smooth, and Jeremiah loved ugly pumpkins."

"Ugly pumpkins...?"

"Oh, yeah, like, the weirder and bumpier the better. He was really good at carving them, so he could do, like, super cool faces and stuff. He made a witch one time that was really creepy."

Lena pushes up onto her toes to plant a kiss on Kara's cheek. "He sounds like a fun dad."

Kara smiles a little sadly. "He was."

Sensing a rapid downshift in mood, Lena resolves to perk the fuck up. "So! We did doughnuts for breakfast- which I strongly suspect was your real motivation for this little venture…"

Kara's mouth drops open in shock, but her eyes are sparkling with humor. "I would never!"

"Sure. So, as long as the pumpkin isn't soft, it's fair game?"

"Yup! Go nuts! I couldn't get a pumpkin last year, because of that guy from Yavin IV, I'm gonna get a big one this year to make up for it."

Lena fixes her with a look. "Not too big, though, right?"

Kara smiles innocently, letting Krypto tug her a pace or two ahead. "Of course not."

Lena sighs.

Kara really is a terrible liar.

"Lena."

Upon seeing what's caught her attention, Lena nearly drops her own perfectly round pumpkin. "No. Under no circumstances are we getting that one."

Kara's starry-eyed as she stares up at the truly gargantuan squash before her. "It's beautiful."

Lena strongly disagrees- this pumpkin is decidedly ugly, misshapen and lumpy and a shade that's not quite orange or green, but a rather sickly combination of both.

But what it lacks in general aesthetic appeal, it more than makes up for in sheer size. It's wider than Lena is tall, likely taller than she is, too, and is, in general, what Winn would call 'a threateningly large vegetable'. It's on a little platform, a plaque proudly boasting that it'd won some award or other at the state fair a week or so ago. And also its weight:

One thousand two hundred eighteen pounds.

Lena tries for reason. "Kara. Darling. Love of my life. This… thing won a prize. They bred it especially to be giant. There is absolutely no way they're going to sell it to two city-slickers."

And then it happens. After almost a year of dating, and several years of friendship, Lena is well aware of Kara's pout, and especially aware of her own susceptibility to it. She can almost sense when it's about to happen, these days, and she senses it coming now, tries to steal herself against it.

But it's no use. Kara, she could maybe handle. Maybe. But when she bends and scoops up their three-month old puppy to help her pout, Lena is powerless against the assault.

"Alright, that was unnecessary," she complains. "No using our son like that. He doesn't even know why he's pouting."

"But is it working?" Kara asks, hiding her face behind Krypto's and talking in the goofy voice she reserves for narrating his thoughts.

Lena groans, because yes, of course it's fucking working. "No. Kara, they worked hard to make that... gourd. Can't you get another one?"

"I mean, I can," she agrees, peeking over Krypto's head so just her eyes show. "But think about how awesome that's gonna look when I carve it."

Lena sighs. "Kara, they're using it as a draw to get people to come here."

"They're making it like a display in a zoo. People just come and point at it! We can give it a loving home!"

Lena arches a brow. "You literally just said that you want to cut it open, scoop out its insides, and carve it.."

"Well, yeah, but like, lovingly."

Lena snorts, knowing she's lost. "Fine! Fine, we can go ask."

Kara cheers, hopping a bit in excitement and darting forward to press her lips to Lena's in a silly, smiley kiss.

As predicted, the farmer is initially reluctant to sell his prize pumpkin. "It's not the money," he clarifies hastily when Lena doubles her offer for the damn stupid pumpkin. "I need the seeds, to plant next year. I won big at the fair this year, and with those I'd have a hell of an advantage next season. You understand?"

"What if we save the seeds and bring them to you?" Kara offers earnestly. "I can drive them out whenever."

The farmer looks skeptical at this, but Kara's offer doesn't waver under his glare, and he sighs, reaching out to shake Lena's hand and seal the deal. "Fine. Only because your girl is cute."

Lena huffs out a laugh, and Kara positively beams at him. "Thanks so much!"

"But Jake has the tractor out in the maze right now, won't be back for an hour or so to move it for ya."

Kara's grin only widens. "Don't worry, I called a friend for help moving it."

The farmer shrugs, and Lena groans, knowing that one spectacle at the pumpkin patch is about to be replaced by another.

Lena hands the farmer his due for his prize pumpkin, and he turns away before she calls out, catching his attention.

"Sorry, I almost forgot, how much for this one?"

He eyes the normal-sized, perfect pumpkin in Lena's arms and his mouth quirks up in a grin. "For you? On the house."

Supergirl makes a very showy entrance, to the delight of most in attendance (the exceptions being a 74-year old man who thinks anyone who flies should have to get a license, and her girlfriend who is rolling her eyes fondly and wrestling to keep their puppy from revealing her secret identity), landing with a flourish. She smiles brightly at the crowd waving and laughing, high-fiving anyone who offers before shouldering the massive gourd. "Sorry, guys, I'm on a very important mission. Support local farms!"

Lena snorts, loudly, and Supergirl takes off into the air as her ears turn a little pink.

The farmer sidles up to Lena at the back of the crowd, looking a little star-struck. "Wow."

Lena grins, dropping a kiss to Krypto's nose and blowing in his face when he nips at her chin. "Yeah," she agrees. "Wow about sums it up."

The truck rides notably lower on the trip back, the massive pumpkin weighing down the truck bed probably more than is entirely safe.

"So, how was your first trip to the pumpkin patch?" Kara asks with a grin.

"I hated it," Lena deadpans, cradling Krypto in one arm and her pumpkin in the other. On the seat between them are three dozen doughnuts, four gallons of cider, and three bottles of hard cider the farmer's wife had slipped into their bags with a wink.

Overall, it's been a very pleasant experience.

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely awful. Hated everything."

"What was the worst part?"

Lena reaches over, grabbing Kara's hand and threading their fingers together. "Spending it with you."

Kara clicks her tongue, shakes her head. "Yeah, that sounds awful. I'm a pain in the butt."

"Yeah. You're kinda cute, though, so I guess it's fine."

Kara chuckles, brings their clasped hands to her mouth and kisses Lena's knuckles. "Good news for me."

Lena smiles, turning her attention back to the window and watching as fields fairly fly by, the low sound of Kara singing in the background making this almost unbearably perfect.

Almost.

"Um… so, funny story…"

Lena arches a brow expectantly, and Kara scuffs her red boots on the floor. "Oh?"

"Yeah. So, the thing is, I tried everything, with the pumpkin, and… it won't fit through the door. None of the doors. Or any of the windows…"

Lena bonds at the waist and laughs until she cries.

That year starts a long-running and much beloved tradition, wherein a truly massive and skillfully-carved pumpkin appears in L-Corp's opulent lobby the first weekend of every October. It later years, it's joined by other, smaller ones, dozens, carved by the children of employees, including those of the CEO herself.

It's a family tradition, after all.

#ask me #supercorp #i geeked so hard when I saw this was from one of my very favorite writers #full-on squeaked #prompts!

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lovely-nctzen · 5 years

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can we still be friends • seven

↬ After splitting up, Johnny and Y/N struggle to detach their lives from one another. Their relationship as a couple lasted for almost five years until they both decided to breakup. As they start dating other people the ex-couple consistently check on each other under the guise of "friendship." Only to find out that one of them is still in love with the other.

Meanwhile, Johnny left to go play video games with the rest of the boys on campus, but they decided to head back to one of the boy’s apartments since the dorms couldn’t fit all 21 of them. As Yuta and Johnny sat on the couch setting up the gaming system, Yuta asked Johnny something he didn’t expect to hear. “Hey dude, do you have Tinder?” Sitting there, Johnny stupidly asked, “What’s Tinder?”

Pausing the game, Yuta gave Johnny a look that said, “Are you stupid?” “Dude, Tinder, the dating app. Have you been living under a rock?” Making him unpause the game, he responded, “Nah man, I don’t like those kind of apps.” Sitting not too far from the two was Taeyong and Taeil and they couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between Johnny and Yuta. “Try it bro. You’re single. It’s for you,” Yuta encouraged. “Dude, I don’t need that,” Johnny said to him as he was trying to focus on the game. Johnny wasn’t the type to do hookups, but now that he was single, it never crossed his mind until now. “Are you trying to set Johnny up with a random girl? So soon too?” said Taeil as he munched on some chips.

Grinning from ear to ear, Yuta faces the older boy. “Yeah, there’s like, hook-ups, but more than that, you can have conversations and companionships.” Scrunching up his nose, Johnny didn’t like the sound of that and disagreed with Yuta. It felt weird and cringey to him. “You’re such a loser, Johnny. Come on, have a little fun once in a while. And you know what, if you get on Tinder, Y/N will get jealous for sure.” At the sound of that, Johnny paused the game to fully faced Yuta and listen to what he had to say. “You think?” Grinning once again, Yuta replied with, “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

The rest of the boys stopped what they were doing and looked at each other. They knew that this would end up in a disaster. Turning off the console, Yuta grabbed his phone and tossed it to Kun. “Here, you take the pictures. We need this to be perfect. Jaemin, get the lights, the lighting here is too dark.” Once everything was in order, Johnny was leaning against the wall as Yuta perfected everything. “Okay, first things first, profile pic. Stand up straight and smile.” Reluctant to take the picture, Kun put on a straight face. He knew that something bad is going to happen if Johnny makes a Tinder. Snapping the picture, Kun shows the picture to everyone. Huddling around the phone, everyone had ideas of their own. “Ooh, what about Johnny pretending to play basketball? He just wears a jersey and poses like he’s making a shot?” Chenle explained as grabbed one of their old jerseys from a fundraiser. “Or he could be one of those outdoorsy people who like to hike. I’ve got a hiking vest and a bandana,” said Hendery. Everyone turned to look at him quizzically. “You own a bandana?” asked Yang Yang.

“Yeah, you don’t?”

“Anyways, let’s get back to the task at hand people! Any more suggestions?”

“Ooh! Bad boy type!” Jeno exclaimed excitedly.

“Surfer dude!” Jisung replied while holding a surf board.

Once everyone made their suggestions, they took pictures for each one of them. Looking at the camera roll in his phone, Yuta made a face. “Uh, at least we have options, but let’s pick the best ones to post.”

As all of the 19 boys gathered around to make Johnny’s Tinder profile, Lucas and Mark were with Y/N at a cafe eating dessert. When Lucas took a sip from his drink, he choked when he saw that Johnny was on Tinder. “Holy shit!” Jumping from Lucas’s sudden outburst, Mark looked at him and grabbed his phone. “What? What happened? Oh shit.”

Y/N gave them a glare and apologized to the people around them. “What? What has you shouting at a cafe?” She asked. “Johnny is on Tinder,” Mark said, handing her Lucas’s phone. As she took the phone from his hand, she looked at it before looking back up at them again. “What’s Tinder?” Snatching his phone back, he gave her a crazy look. “Are you for real? You don’t know what Tinder is?”

“Are you even millennial?” Mark asked with a straight face as he took a bite from his burger. Lucas face palmed as Mark explained to her what Tinder was. “Y/N, Tinder is a dating app. You’ll see pictures of other singles and if he’s your type, swipe right. If not, swipe left,” Mark explained with hand gestures, with Lucas following alongside him. “If you match, you can chat with each other.”

Confused, Y/N asked them why he was on Tinder. Patting the girl on the shoulder, they explained to her that the two of them broke up. “He’s a single guy, remember? But technically, you’re single as well.” Clapping his hands Lucas gets a bright, but also stupid idea. “You know what we should do? We’re going to make you a Tinder account!” Lucas exclaimed joyfully as Mark nodded his head. “I mean it’s not a bad idea, but it’s also a recipe for disaster.”

“Trust me, it’s going to be perfect. We’re going to make her look hot!”

This earned Lucas a smack on the shoulder from Y/N. “No, no way am I doing that!”

But alas, here the three of them were, out and about in the city taking pictures for Y/N. They bought several outfits for her to wear around the city and took at least over a hundred photos for the app. Y/N was in a little black dress with black stilettos posing next to a lamp. She glared at the two boys and said:

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

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tag list: @suh-duction @fic-recs @jaehyunluvcult

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fandom-imagines-stories · 6 years

Text

Afraid of the Unexpected

Peter Kavinsky x Reader

Words: 1889

Part One

Summary: After the Ski Trip goes awry, you completely rethink your relationship with Peter. All the while, the entire school has turned against you according to the Gen’s plan. You team up with Lara Jean and try and figure things out before the can snowball any further.

Notes: Here it is! I really liked writing the first part of this story and I wanted to give it a happy ending. (I have also now realized that Gwen is actually Gen, so my bad! And I’ll be changing it for this fic) This is also the final part so I won’t be taking requests for more, however, it is going to be on a somewhat cliffhanger, so I might write some smaller sequels just for fun.

Your cousins were protective, to say the least. You were the only girl in the family with four older boy cousins, all very outdoorsy mountain men types. You spent the rest of the weekend surrounded by flannel clad towers of testosterone that wanted to take a pick axe to everyone at your school after hearing what happened. Despite their bear-like personalities, they made sure that you were comfortable all weekend, never letting your cup of hot chocolate run empty.

“How are you feeling?” Your oldest cousin, Adam, wondered, sitting down beside you on the porch. The morning air was brisk but you liked it. You shrugged. “I’m fine.” He chuckled.

“I know you too well, Y/N. You are so not fine.” He leaned forward in his seat. “Has your friend tried to contact you?”

“If you mean texts, emails, calls, and every other known communications device on the planet… then yes.” You sighed. Peter had been trying to get a hold of you from the moment that you left the lodge. The school would be driving back today. He’d be riding the bus alone. With Gen. You felt a sick feeling creeping its way into your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was guilt for not responding or the impending doom that you would eventually have to see him again. To see everyone again. You weren’t sure if you could face it.

“So who’s ass are we kicking on Monday?” Sam, the more rambunctious of the four, asked, plopping down next to you.

“You are not kicking anybody’s ass.” You objected. He pouted and took a bite of his muffin. “Seriously, you guys have done enough for me. I definitely don’t want to add assault to the list.” The twins, Sawyer and Simon, were only a few years older than you were the last two to join.

“That’s to bad. We were so looking forward to meeting your boyfriend.” Sawyer joked, earning a stern look from his oldest brother. You stared out at the mountains surrounding the cabin and sighed. None of this was ever supposed to happen. You never should have let Peter convince you to go on that stupid trip.

The first day back from break, Peter searched the halls for you, but he wasn’t able to get far without Gen appearing in front of him with a satisfied look on her face. He shook his head and pushed passed her, clenching his fists.

“You’ll be lucky if she shows her face again.” Gen called after him. “This school has enough sluts without her.” Peter froze, still facing away from her. “I mean, she’s probably slept with half the guys in school. After that kiss at the lake, you’d better either get in line or get away from her before she fucks you over to.” Now Peter turned around, fuming.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Gen?” He spat. “Y/N never did anything to you. She was quiet and sweet and kind. She was a better person and a better friend than you will ever be.” He stepped forward so that their faces were only inches apart. “I don’t know why I ever dated you.”

He went to his first class, leaving Gen gaping and alone in the middle of the hall. Once everyone was gone, you stepped out from behind the bathroom door, having heard the entire encounter. You couldn’t breathe. He defended you. Not only that, but he stood up to Gen for you. Your mind reeled as you stepped slowly out into the hallway, only to be intercepted by Lara Jean.

“Why the hell haven’t you been answering your phone?” She exclaimed.

“I’m sorry,” You sighed, “After Peter kept calling me, I just turned it off.” She took your hand and ushered you into an empty classroom.

“You can’t just keep avoiding him. He was a mess on the ride home.” She sat on one of the desks and you did the same beside her.

“You think I don’t feel guilty about just leaving like that?” You sniffed, feeling all of the emotions come rushing back. “That I haven’t wanted to pick up the phone every time he called?” You blinked back tears and tapped your fingers on the desktop. “But I don’t know what I would say.” She blew out a breath and moved so she was standing in front of you.

“Look,” She began sternly, “I know that you’re all about schedules and planning and knowing what’s going to happen next, but you aren’t going to make it through life being afraid of the unexpected. You need to tell him how you feel, and don’t think I don’t know.”

“We’re just friends, Lara Jean!” You exclaimed. “That’s all I’ll ever be to him. I’m the weird girl with her nose stuck in her journals and he’s the all-star lacrosse player. It’s a miracle he even wanted to be friends with me, let alone something more.” You looked down at the floor and Lara Jean put her hands on your shoulders.

“You are so much more than that. And if you really think Peter cares about your differences, then you don’t give him enough credit.” Her eyes were filled with sincerity and you couldn’t decide if that made you feel better or worse. “Now man up and go tell him that you love him.”

“Lara!” You exclaimed, blush rushing to your cheeks. She smirked.

“Let’s go.”

You’d managed to avoid him for most of the morning because you didn’t have any classes together. It wasn’t until lunch that you came face to face. His eyes were filled with so many emotions, you didn’t know which hurt more- the confusion, the pain, or the utter sadness. You took a deep breath, and with the support of Lara Jean standing beside you, you didn’t run.

“Hey,” He greeted softly.

“Hi.” You replied awkwardly. Lara Jean nudged you forward. You took a deep breath. “Can we talk?” A small spark of hope broke through all of the sadness in his eyes.

“Hey Y/L/N!” A voice called out from across the cafeteria. You turned around to see Curt Landon and his friends, making kissing faces and lifting up their shirts, moaning loudly. Peter’s fists clenched and he started towards them.

“Peter don’t.” You grabbed his arm. You felt a hand smack your ass as another one of Curt’s friends passed by and the group of guys erupted with cheers and laughter. Peter grabbed the back collar of the boy’s shirt and turned him around. Before the boy could react, Peter’s fist collided with his nose. “Peter!” You yelled. Lara Jean pulled you out of the way just before the fight began.

“Oh my god,” She gasped as you watched the fists fly and blood spurt from both boys’ mouths.

“Peter stop it!” You cried, the entire cafeteria egging them on with shouts and cheering. It wasn’t until two teachers burst through the crowd of gathered students that they were able to break the two apart. Peter looked at the tears streaming down your face and guilt washed over his features as he was dragged off to the principal's office. Everything was spiraling out of control and as you fled the cafeteria, Gen’s glare did not go unnoticed.

“You think you're so much better than me, don’t you?” She spat, following you and Lara Jean out of the cafeteria. “You keep to yourself because nobody else can stand being around you. He’s never going to care about you.” Lara Jean kept walking, ignoring her words, but you stopped and turned around.

“You know what your problem is, Gen?” You asked. She seemed taken aback like she hadn’t expected you to respond. But her surprise was just replaced by more haughty anger. “You are so scared of being alone that you tear down anyone that you decide poses a threat, even if it pushes people away. If you were just kind, if you just treated people like a decent human being, maybe you wouldn’t be so alone.” You shook your head with a bitter laugh. “I feel bad for you.”

Without another word, you left with Lara Jean, feeling oddly powerful. You finally realized that Gen couldn’t hurt you. She was just a mean girl from high school that you would forget in two years. She had no power of you and you couldn’t help but smile.

You were leaning on the hood of his car when he finally made his way out to the parking lot. He’d be getting a week of detention for fighting, but the other boy got three days suspension for the added sexual harassment. They’d also be investigating Gen and Curt and the rest of his friends that were involved. Everything was resolved except for one thing.

“How are you feeling?” You wondered, noticing his black eye and bruised jaw.

“You should see the other guy.” He chuckled, pulling himself up onto the hood as well.

“Not that I’m okay with you fighting,” You started, looking up at him, “but thanks.” He shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant.

“Guys should never treat a girl like that.” He stated plainly. “And at the lodge, I wanted to punch all of those assholes, but I needed to go after you. When you left, I didn’t really know what to do.”

“I shouldn’t have run off like that.” You felt shame rise in your cheeks. “I don’t want you to feel like it was your fault, because it wasn’t. I was just so confused and hurt and I felt like you wouldn’t look at me the same way-”

“I like you.” He interrupted you. You froze. “A lot. I think I always have. This whole thing with Curt doesn’t change that.” You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your lips and the corner of his lips lifted into a crooked smile. You sighed with a laugh.

“The funny thing is, it isn’t even true.” You ran a hand through your hair and he jumped back down onto the pavement, standing in front of you. “We went on one date and when he kissed me and started putting his hands up my shirt, I told him to take me home and we never went out again.”

“Son of a bitch.” Peter scoffed angrily. You shrugged.

“I’ve gotten over it. Some guys just can’t deal with being rejected, I guess.” You were surprised when his fingers started to lace themselves through yours.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the kiss.” He began awkwardly. “I never thought it was a mistake. I was hoping that you feel the same way.” You nodded. You weren’t afraid anymore. He grinned and the two of you leaned in, your lips finding each other with purpose. It felt right. He was your best friend and you were in love with him. Sure things would be complicated, but you didn’t care. Sometimes life is unexpected, but it's often the surprises that make it worthwhile. It wasn’t until you heard the roaring engine that the two of you broke apart.

“Oh no.” You gasped, watching the two massive pickup trucks drive into the parking lot. Peter looked at them with a confused expression as four guys started walking towards you.

“Who are they?” he wondered. You gulped.

“My cousins.”

#peter kavinsky x reader #noah centineo #to all the boys i've loved before #movie imagines

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