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kitty-tea · 5 months

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We’re all weird

Link to masterlist

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader (formerly)

Hi this is my first time writing something for Harry Potter. The idea for this plot’s kind of based off a dream I had which is why some stuff doesn’t make sense. Like the setting. I know every autistic person has a different experience, so I tried to write this as similar to my own experiences as I could. Also the story doesn’t follow the main timeline of the books or movies. I don’t own any characters except reader and the four first year students.

Whether the reader is diagnosed or not, it’s open to interpretation

Summary: After you catch Draco cheating on you, you’re forced to go to a school banquet. Unfortunately you can’t avoid anyone.

Tags/warnings: ableism, internalized ableism, name calling, reader has an emotional outburst, Dumbledore being confusing, reader is autistic, social isolation, bullying, teasing, Draco being mean, pure blood supremacy, mentions of cheating, angst

You looked around the venue for an empty table. You were one of the last people to arrive, so all the tables were taken. If only you hadn’t spent the last hour overthinking and dreading this event, you could have gotten ready and arrived a lot sooner instead of grabbing one of the last portkeys that were set up at the school.

The theme of the party was for the students to dress in their house colors. Being a Slytherin, you wore an off the shoulder emerald silk dress that went down to your feet, accentuated with a slit that showed off your entire left leg. You decided to keep your hair down to use as a curtain for your face as you always did as a way to avoid eye contact.

As your eyes scanned the rows of small tables lined along the room horizontally, they met the very reason you were dreading coming here. You spotted the group of Slytherins from your year, which included your ex-boyfriend Draco and his friends, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle. Draco had his arm around Pansy, who looked over to you, which drew the attention of everyone else at the table.

“Look, it’s Flappy-hands.” Even through all the people talking in the room, you managed to hear Pansy’s comment referring to your habit of flapping your hands when you were happy or excited about something.

You saw Goyle get up from his seat. He started to flap his hands while jumping up and down. Even though you had a harder time reading people’s intentions, you knew he

“I can’t believe I ever dated a freak like her.” Draco was telling his friends. “She brings shame to Slytherin. Would’ve been better off as a Hufflepuff.” He rolled his eyes.

“Only because she's a pure-blood, but that doesn’t mean they should let freaks like her into the Wizarding World.” Blaise said.

“Dumbledore only made her Head Girl because he felt sorry for her. He’s the only one too.” Pansy laughed.

You knew that wasn’t the case as evidenced by your several conversations with him. Dumbledore always knew you were different from other students even before you figured it out, it seemed. When you came to him to question what made you deserve this position, he said something about how he knew you were one of the rare people who would never abuse their position, and that the extra responsibilities would help you grow as a person.

“She really earned her place as Head Girl.” Crabbe smirked before adding, “she’s the Head of the freaks.”

You were in no place to cry at the moment. You wished you could be in one of your “safe rooms” around the school where no one would be around you to bother you.

A few tables in front of the seventh year Slytherins, you spotted the table with the Gryffindors from your year along with Ginny and Luna. Every time you saw Harry Potter with his friends, you couldn’t help but feel jealous. You didn’t know why. Maybe it was because of how well they all seem to belong together, except for when they got into fights but that was normal for any friend group. Everytime you’d pass by them, you’d think about how nice it would be to be friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They might as well have been friends with every Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff too. They were welcoming towards students from other houses, except for yours which made you feel left out from the rest of the school. Especially during your fifth year when you found out Harry and his friends formed a secret group called Dumbledore’s Army, and hadn’t invited anyone from Slytherin. Not only was that group in on something you weren’t, but so were your former friends. You felt like a reject in the middle.

Your thoughts were consumed by the events of the past week and the course of your overall social life.

Everything from the day Draco asked you to be his girlfriend to that time you came back into the common room after patrolling the halls and saw him making out with Pansy on the couch invaded your memories. You were completely clueless to the fact that Draco had been flirting with you for the last two years, so it was a surprise to have him ask you out and call you beautiful. Everyone in your group could see how flirtatious he was except for you.

You had years of practice of holding in your tears when something emotional would randomly pop into your mind, this should be no different, you thought.

For as long as you’ve been in school, Draco, and all the other Slytherins from your year were the only people you’ve ever hung out with. Even though you hung out with that group for years, you always felt that there was something off, like you didn’t really belong, and they seemed to think that way too. It wasn’t until you broke off from them that the insults about your differences came at you unrestrained. They’d point out every little thing about you that they found odd, most of which were things you didn’t notice about yourself.

Before you became Head Girl when you used to share a dorm with the other girls, you’d catch them whispering to each other about the little odd things about you they would notice, like how you didn’t understand when you weren’t welcome into a conversation or how there were jokes and expressions you took seriously. You didn’t know how to stick up for yourself without crying, so all you could do was pretend to sleep by using your covers and pillow to muffle your sniffles.

It was a break from your routine after you cut them off where you were left completely lost and confused. You liked routines and order in your life. It was like having the rail of the stairs to hold onto for a long time and relying on it to get you through it, only for it to be snatched from you.

After you had caught your ex-boyfriend making out with Pansy, you used the disillusionment charm to sneak into your dorm where you cried. Not bothering to change out of your uniform, you hatched a plan to get revenge on Draco the next day, to humiliate him in front of the whole school. The plan was that you would intercept him in the courtyard after class and throw all your rage at him, then yell exactly what he’d done in front of everyone. What you didn’t plan was for him and his friends to laugh in your face as they told you that he’d been cheating on you with Pansy since a month into your relationship when he wanted to give up on “dating the freak.” You thought the other students from other houses around you would defend you, but with you being a Slytherin, you should’ve known that they’d keep quiet as you ran away since you were associated with that notorious group.

You were so in your thoughts that you didn’t pay attention to which table you sat yourself at.

“Hello.” You heard a small, high pitch voice from across you. As quickly as you turned to the owner of the voice, you looked down at your lap. It was a first-year Gryffindor student. Next to her was a Hufflepuff boy, also a first-year. It had just come to your attention that you, a seventh-year student, was sitting at a table full of first-years. To your left, you saw a Ravenclaw boy and to the opposite side of you, a Slytherin girl you didn’t recognize. You knew they were first years mostly because they were wearing their school uniforms instead of the fancy dresses and suits the older students were allowed to wear. You assumed the first-years had to show up in their uniforms so that the older students would be able to distinguish the ones who needed guidance more or something like that.

“Aren’t you the Head Girl?” The Gryffindor student asked you.

“Yeah.” You forced yourself to look into her eyes briefly before you spotted the staff table at the back of the room and looked down. You had come close to making eye contact with Draco’s father, Lucius. You should’ve known he’d be there. He was the governor of Hogwarts. Besides your former group, he was the person you were dreading to see for the rest of the night. You used your fingers to brush some hair in front of your face, hoping he wouldn’t see you.

“Why are you hiding your face?” The same girl sitting across from you asked. Shielding half of your face with your hand now, you looked up at her.

“There’s someone here I don’t want to see tonight.” You whispered.

“Who?” The same girl asked, not lowering her voice.

“There’s a man behind you. He’s sitting at the staff table. He’s the blonde man next to Professor Snape. His name is Lucius Malfoy. He’s my ex’s father and the Hogwarts governor.”

“Oh yeah,” the Slytherin girl sitting to your right piped up. “I’ve seen you around a lot with your friends.”

“They’re not my friends anymore.”

“Sorry, I forgot your name. We’re all first years. We don’t really know a lot of people at the school.” The Gryffindor girl said to you. After introducing yourself, they told you their names. The Gryffindor’s name was Melanie, the Slytherin’s name was Kayla, the Ravenclaw’s name was Stuart, and the Hufflepuff was named Owen.

“Why did you and your boyfriend break up?” Kayla asked you. You would’ve thought that she’d be more informed about your house’s gossip, but seeing as her friend told you that they didn’t know a lot of people, you deduced that the four of them mostly kept to each other for company more than students of their own houses.

“I caught him cheating on me with another girl from our house. It’s because they all think I’m weird. They’ve been calling me a freak.” You stopped yourself from saying more. You did not want to start crying.

“It’s okay we’re all weird here.” Melanie said.

“Yeah that’s why we have each other.” Stuart said.

You looked up at all four of them, smiling at their apparent welcomeness towards you. You quickly realized you shouldn’t have looked up again as you spotted Lucius and Snape having a separate conversation from the rest of their table, about you probably.

“I think they’re looking at us.” Stuart tapped on your shoulder. You flinched. “Sorry, do you not like being touched?”

“Don’t you?” You asked him.

“No, it’s fine I hug my friends and family all the time.” He smiled. “You’re like my cat. He hates being touched too.” You couldn’t understand how there were people who were okay with being touched, it felt smothering to you.

Stuart left the mostly one-sided conversation to dig into his plate which gave you time to eavesdrop on the one Lucius and Snape were having.

“I see your son’s ex-girlfriend has distanced herself from her usual friends.” You could hear Snape say even through all the noise of overlapping conversations around you.

As quickly as the two participants of the conversation looked over to you, you hung your head down for the umpteenth time that night.

After a while of you taking your eyes off them, you could feel two new presences behind you, and you didn’t like it at all. You were dreading the words you predicted would come out of Lucius’ mouth should he come into contact with you tonight.

It was Snape who spoke first instead. “If it isn’t the Head Girl, hanging out with the four troublemakers I have the delight of having as my students.”

“Good evening, sir.” It was the first sentence you heard Owen say since he told you his name.

You knew if you turned around you’d see the same scowl you’d grown familiar with seeing over the years.

“Aren’t you, an eighteen-year-old about to graduate, too old to be hanging out with first years? You won’t even be there for them next year.” Snape spoke to you.

With a shaky breath, you forced yourself to look into the eyes of the two men as you turned around in your chair.

Lucius put a hand on Snape’s shoulder. “If you recall our first meeting where I, a seventh year Head Boy befriended you, a first year, you wouldn’t be so harsh on her. She’s only doing for them what I did for you.” You were confused that your ex’s father was apparently defending you.

“I’m going off what happened.” He explained.

“You’re her ex’s dad aren’t you?” Owen turned to him with a raised eyebrow. That made Lucius’ attention snap away from you.

“Did you know your son cheated on her, that’s just mean.” Kayla said.

“How dare you disrespect your elders like that.” Snape clenched his fists. “I’ll be taking ten points from the five of you each. Such disgrace coming from my own house. Unbelievable.” He scoffed.

“That’s not fair.” Melanie argued.

“Does anyone want detention?” Snape warned and everyone at your table shut their mouths.

“I was not aware you and Draco were no longer together until your teacher mentioned it. I’m usually the first person who hears from him.” Lucius said to you. “Really disappointing how you turned out, given the pure blood family you come from.”

Throughout your relationship, you thought the less time you spent with Draco’s parents, the less likely they’ll come to find out about the part of you and your personality you were desperate to keep hidden from other wizards for the sake of you seeming normal to them. And now you knew Snape spilled everything to him, every single thing that made you different that he was able to pick off you.

“Will you stop acting like a child who was caught being naughty and look into the eyes of whomever is speaking to you? As I’ve told you over and over?” You had to suppress the urge to swat Snape’s hand away as he reached down to pull the curtain of hair hovering over half your face. Now, both of your eyes were on him. Even with makeup on, your face felt naked without your hair covering it.

“She doesn’t like it when people touch her, you know. She didn’t do anything wrong.” Kayla glared at him.

He pulled his hand away from you. “That is the second time you have disrespected me tonight.” He glared back at the younger girl.

“She’s just a child, it’s understandable to have the instinct to defend someone who’s unable to do it for themselves.” It hurt that Lucius was taking a jab at your inability to stand up for yourself, something he picked up on really quick. Why couldn’t you pick up things about other people like that?

Snape’s eyes were on you again. You used a trick Dumbledore taught you where you looked at people’s forehead or eyebrows whenever you’d get uncomfortable and overwhelmed with holding eye contact. You used that trick on Snape quite often.

“As someone who’s about to graduate, you should know that the real world won’t be as forgiving of your freakish nature as Professor Dumbledore or your little friends. You know how they treat werewolves and Squibs.”

“I know.” You spoke for the first time in the conversation. You were converting your anger towards how the world had treated you into courage to stand up for yourself. At least that’s how you thought of it “The whole school actually made sure of it when they made it clear I’m not welcome here with the rest of you people!”

You didn’t have much volume control or awareness, and you didn’t know most of the people in the room heard what you said until Snape and Lucius looked around themselves. Your eyes followed theirs. Everyone had halted their conversations.

You saw Draco slap his palm against his forehead, muttering “she’s so embarrassing.”

“So is his father.” Harry whispered to his friends. You heard him and his friends snicker, but Draco didn’t.

“Yes, Draco and Harry. Your father and I are an embarrassment to Slytherin! Whatever!” You snapped at them. “Everyone should go ahead and tell each other how much of a loser I am too!” Your voice started to tremble and so did the tear running down your cheek. “About how I’ve never been truly welcomed in any of you all’s friend groups.”

“If I’d been sorted into Slytherin I would’ve known just how mental she is. Almost feel sorry for Malfoy. And I thought you were the mental one at first, Hermione.” You heard another snide whisper, this time from Ron.

“We’ll maybe if you and the whole school weren’t so closed off in your anti-Slytherin world you would’ve gotten to know me as a person and exactly how mental you think I am or am not!” You shouted at him. He flinched back in his chair. Even though he and the whole school had seen your meltdowns, this was the first time he was the subject of it.

“She’s right. If only Potter’s little friends and us ever got together, then we could all agree and talk about how weird she is.” Draco said and you took a step forward, but Snape grabbed your arm, holding you back.

“Enough!” He yelled harshly enough for Ron to sink into his chair even further.

“Severus, trust me you’ll want to lay your hand off her.” Dumbledore stood up from the staff table and walked over to you.

You didn’t think he sounded mad, but you couldn’t tell most of the time.

Snape let go of you.

“Everyone, you may go back to your previous social engagements.” Dumbledore addressed the whole room.

“Albus, she needs to be disciplined more harshly than the others. I just know she does. Look at the example she’s setting for the younger students.” Snape said to Dumbledore as soon as everyone else started to mind their own businesses.

“I’ll take care of it.” He said and looked over at you. Without any words of objection, Snape and Lucius resumed their places at the staff table, not looking back at the four students that were just talking to them. “I’d like to speak to you alone. This way.” Dumbledore said gently.

You were too ashamed of the way you acted to do anything but nod your head as you followed him on shaky legs to the entrance hall outside the room. You hated how you couldn’t seem to keep your emotions in check as much as everyone else did. It was something that other people would notice about you and call you out as being weak.

As soon as you were alone with Dumbledore, the sobs you held in exploded. “I’m so sorry, I know you’re angry with me. Blaise was right about me being a freak and how I don’t deserve a place in the Wizarding World. And Pansy said you only made me Head Girl because of pity. I tried so hard to be normal, but I can’t.”

Throughout your rambling and sobbing, Dumbledore didn’t interrupt you. Another way Dumbledore treated you different from how the adults treated you was that instead of interrupting you or trying to finish your sentences when you got stuck, he patiently waited for you to finish them yourself.

“I think Snape knows. He knows how… how much I’m not like the others. Please don’t tell him you know too. I can’t have him be… he can’t find out. He thinks something’s off about me. And he hates me for it. He’s ashamed of me and so am I.”

“I see.” Dumbledore said quietly, folding his hands in front of him. “And while I’ll respect your decision to keep some things about yourself private, I can only tell you it’s not something to do lightly.”

“What do you mean?” You were always confused when Dumbledore gave you advice in a cryptic way.

“Let’s just say one can only keep a house made up of mud for so long before it starts raining profusely.” You still didn’t understand the sayings he’d throw at you. You’d always get frustrated with figurative expressions. Why couldn’t people say exactly word for word what they mean?

“Why would I need to build a house with mud? We don’t live in that type of climate. Bricks would be easier to access where my family is from.” Dumbledore chuckled. If someone laughed at something you said it was because they were making fun of you. Dumbledore was the only person you trusted enough to know that wasn’t his intention.

“I can’t be angry with you for the person you are.” Dumbledore brought the topic back to where it was before. “When I was in school, I remember thinking everything I would learn in the classroom and the books would prepare me for what was to come in the real world. I was wrong. The best teachers are often our own experiences. And I think you and your classmates will share those same thoughts after graduating.”

“Thank you, sir.” You said. “I’ll um, get back to the party.”

“Oh, and one last thing.” Dumbledore said as you turned you were about to turn your back. “Before you leave school, I want you to always remember that you should never be ashamed to be who you are.”

“What if people don’t like me for who I am? That’s always the case.” You interjected. Even if you found people who cared for you and accepted you, you didn’t think you’d be able to do it for yourself.

“Which is why I said you should never be ashamed of yourself for your differences.” Dumbledore answered before telling you to go back into the room. You were left wondering if other people thought Dumbledore was just as much of a confusing person as you did.

Let me know what you think!

#harry potter fanfiction #reader insert #autistic reader #fanfic #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #angst #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #no use of y/n #written by an autistic person #bullied reader

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enjoythesilentworld · 25 days

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Wille's Month - Literature

day 3! @youngroyals-events

“I thought you were a literature student?” “This is literature!” Wille is a very serious literature student, thank you very much.

Read below or on ao3! (cw: implied sexual content)

To the surprise of no one, graduate school turned out to be a little demanding. Still, Wille enjoyed it. He did. For the first time in his life, he felt like he was actually producing something worthwhile. Finally, he had an outlet for all the confusion and turmoil growing up, an explanation for why it’d been so hard to accept himself for who he was. In literature, in tracing lines between characters and plot lines, connecting authors and themes, he found answers. He found common ground and explanations for the world around him. It helped him see beauty in the little, mundane things and simplicity in the big, complicated things. No more was it, why do I feel like this about another boy? It was oh, you felt this, too, and it all turned out okay. The humanity in his readings and the brilliance in discussing it with others, the searching for answers and that spark of joy when he finally connected two pieces together, it kept him going. All that, along with periodic praise from his advisor, plenty of coffee, and, of course, almost more than anything, Simon.

Simon. Wille knew that he could’ve done the whole thing by himself – he’d enrolled before even meeting Simon, thank you very much – but something about having the man by his side, going through the same slog of self-doubt and fear and exhaustion made it all the more worthwhile. To have each other to go back to at the end of the day meant everything to Wille, and he was pretty sure Simon felt the same. He still didn’t know who to thank at the university for that silly bonding trip, but Wille was eternally grateful to whatever almighty force had brought Simon into his life. That first day, Simon’s shy smile and blushing cheeks, which quickly turned to sassy remarks and teasing smirks, had been a ray of sunlight in Wille’s life. Things had already been fine, even good, but Simon brought something more. Something Wille would never be able to put into words. Wille could read every book ever written and still never find the words to describe it, that thing that brought them together, that tug at his core; come closer, be near me, be with me.

All told, the little pieces of Wille’s life fit together well. Most days, he remembered to eat meals at reasonable intervals and got at least a few hours of sleep every night. Sometimes, he even went to the gym. Unfortunately, graduate school didn’t give a fuck if you were happy and in love and generally having a good time. It had a way of pulling apart all those little pieces and scattering them across the room, like an ornery housecat. On this particular day, Wille felt as though someone had stuck a spoon up his nose and scrambled his brain. He’d been reading the same three papers for days now and was making no progress, he had dozens of unread emails sitting in his inbox, and only one line written for his writing workshop assignment (which was due in two days). Needless to say, he was exhausted. There was only one thing he wanted to do: curl up in bed with his boyfriend. Very rudely, Simon was busy with rehearsals, so Wille was cursed to spend the evening alone.

Sighing dramatically, he fell into bed, then squirmed around in frustration. It made him feel a bit better.

As was typical of a literature student – Wille, ever the cliché – his room was covered in books, haphazardly stacked in precarious piles on every available surface. Most were of respectable nature, if a little promiscuous. A few, however, were of a different breed. Since he had the time to kill, he pulled out a book from the bottom of one of the stacks, huffing when the whole pile toppled over.

The cover was a swirling array of dark fabric, and nothing more. In simple serif font, the title read: “Velvet Desires: Passion Unleashed". And, so what if Wille liked to read trashy smut novels in his free time? He spent so much time dissecting prose and interpreting symbolism, who could blame him if every once and a while he just wanted to turn his brain off?

Simon found him like that hours later, half reading the book and half dozing.

“Hi, baby,” Simon purred, crawling into bed and wrapping his arms around Wille’s waist, burying his face there.

Wille smiled and set the book to the side, then pulled Simon closer. “Hello, my love.”

“Missed you,” Simon said into the fabric of Wille’s shirt, the sound a bit muffled.

“I missed you, too. Did you have a good rehearsal?”

Simon simply hummed and lifted his head, smiling sleepily. Wille glanced at his book for a moment, and Simon followed his eye line. They both froze, before they each pounced on the book at the same time. Simon was faster. He jumped out of the bed and spun away from Wille’s reach.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a book,” Wille huffed, grabbing at it. Simon giggled and climbed across the bed, dodging Wille again.

Simon gasped dramatically as his eyes skimmed over the back cover. He looked up with mock horror on his face. Wille rolled his eyes.

“I thought you were a literature student?”

“I am– That is literature!”

“This is smut, Wille.”

Wille groaned. “Come on, Simon, give it!”

They chased each other around the room a moment longer, Wille not really upset and Simon not really horrified, before collapsing back onto the bed.

“Very uncouth,” Simon tsked, poking a finger at Wille’s chest.

“There’s a lot of good symbolism in there.”

“Oh, is there?” Simon asked, tone low. He rolled and moved to straddle Wille, leaning down to kiss gently at his jaw. “What else is in there?”

“Simon…” he whispered, then brought his hands up and gripped Simon’s hips, before sliding warm fingers up his back, along each vertebrae.

“Anything fun?”

Wille hummed, then curled a hand around Simon’s neck and brought their lips together.

“I can show you.”

#listen i know for the tree's sake is incomplete still #but look proof they eventually get together #(also ch 2 is coming soon pinky promise)#willemonth2024 #wmday3 #take a shot every time i use a canon line in non-canon #wilmon #young royals #yr fic #yr drabbles #i wrote this in a daze at 3am i hope it makes sense

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toboldlygohome · 3 months

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"Please..."

Mark Watney X Reader

Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for the pain of losing your boyfriend on Sol 6. But you were even less prepared to find out that he didn't die. You left him there. Alone.

Character(s): Mark Watney, Beth Johanssen, Chris Beck, Melissa Lewis, Alex Vogel, Rick Martinez.

Warning(s): Descriptions of grief, Mentions of death, Cursing (lots of it), Mildly sexual themes (nothing explicit), Mentions of malnourishment.

A/N: I absolutely adore The Martian, but I've noticed a criminally low amount of fan content for it, so I decided to make some! I've decided to follow more closely to the book plot rather than the movie (Just because I like the dialogue more and it's more scientifically accurate). However, there will be a couple scenes from the movie sprinkled in just because I thought they were fun. I hope you enjoy!

It was the morning of Sol 6 and you were up early to make some coffee before your EVA mission. The past few days on Mars had been busy, but far more rewarding than you could have ever imagined. You were one of the geologists in the Ares 3 crew, along with Commander Lewis of course. Mars, to you, was a playground of science. A giant sphere of discovery you couldn't wait to explore.

Today's EVA was to gather samples from near the hab. You had seen plenty of rocks on the way in that you needed to overturn almost as much as you needed oxygen to breathe.

You sensed a hand on the small of your back and felt goosebumps trail up your spine. "Morning Y/L/N. Anything to report?" A playful voice proclaimed.

"Other than bland coffee and terrible sleep, nothing of interest~" You turned back and smiled at your boyfriend. He brushed his thumb over a patch of exposed skin on your lower back before pulling his hand away.

"Hey, at least you don't have to sleep under Martinez, bastard was tossing and turning all night." He smirked as he made his own cup. "I'm barely getting by, the only thing keeping me grounded is this bland ass coffee."

You snickered and rolled your eyes. "Poor baby," You teased.

You and Mark Watney had been together for almost three years, in secret of course. NASA isn't exactly fond of sending couples into space where they might throw caution to the wind and procreate in transit. You were professionals, this mission was something you both had been looking forward to since it was announced. But that wouldn't stop the Space Administration from removing you both from Ares 3.

Nobody knew you were together. Not NASA, not your families, not even the crew knew of your relationship. As far as anyone was concerned, you were just great friends (inseparable in fact). You went out for dinners, went on morning jogs together, spent late nights gaming and going over the mission handbook. Everyone knew you confided in one another and worked incredibly as a team. But nobody would have guessed that instead of playing Yahtzee together on your evenings off, Mark was slowly and deliciously making you breathless with his lips, melting you with his touch.

Once the mission actually started, it was much harder than anticipated to cut out the physical affection. There were cameras everywhere on the ship and absolutely no way to hide from them. The only place for privacy was the bathrooms, but you had a rather close call that involved Mark dragging you there under the guise of helping him with his laptop (which obviously earned an eyebrow raise from Johanssen,) only for him to kiss you with the desperation of a man dying of thirst. You were nearly caught by Beck and you both decided not to risk it again. Luckily, you and Watney were a couple of problem solvers.

Instead of kisses, you resorted to touching. A hand on the back, an arm on the shoulder, a nudge of the elbow. Casual touch became your replacement for intimacy.

Mark pulled a smug smile and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "You know what Y/N, I am a poor baby. But I can think of something that would make me feel better..." He whispered close to your ear. You flushed and playfully shoved him back.

"In your dreams Watney." You scoffed but your hand lingered on his stomach, earning a cheeky grin from the botanist.

"How'd you know?" He laughed, glancing down at your lips briefly. You knew what he was thinking: that it had been awhile and maybe he could risk just a little peck. Mark was a reckless one, that's for sure.

"Guys, quit flirting so loudly. I was trying to get a few minutes extra sleep before Lewis pulls out the bugle," Beck strolled in and grabbed a ration packet.

"Flirting? With him?" You asked incredulously, jabbing your thumb toward Mark.

"And vice versa," Beck shrugged.

"You must be seeing things, maybe we should call a doctor?" Watney sassily took a sip of his drink.

"Hilarious," Beck replied. Chris had been fighting for you and Mark to get together for about as long as you've known him (which is a decent number of years, in case you were wondering.) Little did he know you had already jumped that fence. You felt bad for keeping it from him, but you were sure he'd understand given his thing with Johanssen.

"Oh good, you guys are already up." Lewis sighed "hey, can one of you wake up Martinez? He's not listening to a single word I say."

You gave Watney a sidelong glance. He groaned and downed the rest of his terrible space coffee. "Yeah sure, I can go get the bastard. I'll give him a piece of my mind while I'm at it." Mark stomped off to the bunks and Lewis followed him. You casually sat beside Beck, who gave you a knowing smile.

"You know Chris, it would probably happen on its own if you didn't push it so much." You mumbled against the rim of your cup in an attempt to hide a smile.

"It's obvious he likes you too. Practically written all over his face," Beck said. "Honestly though, you two don't even realize when you're flirting. It's kind of incredible."

You huffed, "Now's not the best time for all that, you know."

"I know, I know. Just, keep it on the table okay?"

"Whatever you say Dr. Beck," You snickered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an EVA to prep for."

Chris rolled his eyes and poked at the food on his plate, "you're excused."

~~~

"Alright team, stay in sight of each other. Let's make NASA proud today." Lewis announced.

"How's it looking over there Watney?" Martinez asked.

"Well, you'll be happy to hear that in grid section 14/28, the particles are predominantly coarse. But in 29 they're uh... much finer. That should be ideal for chem analysis."

"Oh wow! did everyone hear that? Mark just discovered dirt! Should we alert the media?" Martinez teased. Mark glanced up at you, but you couldn't see his face behind the helmet.

"Hey, you better watch it fly boy. I'm working this grid too!" You laughed.

"Sorry, what are you doing today Martinez? Making sure the MAV is still upright?" You could hear the smirk in Mark's voice.

"Well, I'd like you to know that visual inspection of the equipment is imperative to mission success," Rick preached. "I'd also like to report that the MAV is still upright."

You and Mark giggled as you worked on the grid. "Watney, you're keeping your channel open, which leads to Martinez responding, which leads to all of us listening, which leads to me being annoyed," Lewis scolded halfheartedly.

"Roger that, Martinez the captain would like you to please uh," Mark looked at you for approval and continued. "Shut your smart mouth."

Rick cackled and you playfully nudged Mark on the shoulder.

"We'd prefer you use a different adjective to describe Martinez's mouth." Beck said from inside the Hab, resulting in even more laughter from the rest of the crew.

"Did Beck just insult me?!"

"Dr. Beck and yes!"

"I'm happy to turn the radios off from here commander. Just say the word." Johanssen suggested.

"Johanssen, constant communication is the hallmark-" Watney started.

"Shut him off" Melissa gave the order.

"No-" Johanssen cut him off. Mark tossed his little hammer in the dirt and looked back at the captain like she had just kicked a kitten. You patted the shoulder of his suit and urged him to get back to work.

"I'm sorry for my countrymen, Vogel." Lewis said.

"Accepted," Vogel shrugged and glanced up at the sky. "The storm... It's closer than Houston reported."

"We've got time," Lewis said. "Focus on the task at hand. This EVA's all about chemical analysis. Vogel, you're the chemist so you're in charge of what we dig up."

"Ja, Please dig thirty centimeters and get soil samples. At least one hundred grams each. Very important is thirty centimeters down." Vogel clarified, eyes back on his work.

"Will do, stay within a hundred meters of the Hab," Lewis said.

You worked in peace and quiet for a few minutes. You measured the grid while Mark hammered the grid labels. You could hardly wait to take samples. Mark was right, it was perfect for chem analysis. Unfortunately, your work was short-lived because Johanssen had some bad news.

"Commander, you should come inside. You're gonna want to see this."

"What is it?" Lewis asked.

"Houston has upgraded the storm to 'severe.' It's going to be here in fifteen minutes." Johanssen said.

You perked your head up to get a look at the sky. Already it was getting darker.

"Martinez, how's it looking?" Asked commander Lewis.

"Not good." He said.

After a moment of contemplation, Lewis made her decision. "Back to base."

~~~

The Hab shook and the sound of wind and debris outside only exacerbated the tension within. Lewis commanded everyone to put on their flight suits and you congregated around the screen, wondering if this was the end of your mission.

"Sustained winds over one hundred kilometers per hour now. Gusting to one twenty-five," Johanssen frowned.

"Jesus, we're gonna end up in Oz," Watney said. "What's the abort speed?"

"One fifty kilometers per hour, anymore than that and the MAV's in danger of tipping." Martinez placed his hands on his hips.

"Any predictions on the storm track?" Lewis asked.

"This is the edge of it... It's gonna get worse before it gets better." Johanssen delivered the bad news with confidence. Silence fell over the group and you grabbed Mark's hand. You wished you could feel the warmth, but the gloves on the flight suit acted as a barrier. Watney met your sorrowful eyes. You'd have to end the mission before it even started. He let go of your hand and pressed you into his side. It was over. 25 sols early. You leaned your head against his shoulder and willed the grief to subside.

"Alright, prep for abort. We'll go to the MAV and hope for the best. If the wind gets too high, we launch." Lewis grabbed her helmet.

~~~

Outside the Hab, the wind was disastrous. Mark was nearly swept off his feet by the force of the gusts. He slammed into you, but you managed to keep him on his feet.

"Shit! Thanks." Watney regained his balance.

"Visibility is almost zero. If you get lost, hone in on my suit's telemetry! The wind's gonna be rougher away from the Hab, so be ready!" Lewis warned.

The Ares crew stumbled toward the MAV with ever increasing uncertainty. You had to lean into the wind to avoid being thrown backward. Mark wasn't doing much better. It didn't help that his mind wasn't on getting to the MAV safely, it was on how to keep it upright. Watney was smart, too smart for his own good.

"Hey," Watney panted. "Maybe we could shore up the MAV. Make tipping less likely."

"How?" Lewis Huffed.

"We could use cables from the solar farm as guylines. The rovers could be anchors. The trick would be getting the line around the-"

You choked on your scream as Mark was struck by a massive piece of wreckage, sending him off into the disorienting mist of dust and wind.

"MARK!" You screamed and tried to stumble after him, but you could barely see an inch in front of your helmet.

"What happened?" Lewis said.

"Something hit him!" Johanssen said shakily.

"Watney report..." Lewis said. You listened hard and prayed he'd answer. "Watney, report!" Nothing.

"He's offline, I don't know where he is." Johanssen reported as calmly as she could. You bit back a whimper as you shuffled forward.

"Commander, before we lost telemetry, his decompression alarm went off!" Beck said.

"Shit! Y/L/N, where did you last see him?" Lewis asked.

"H-he was right in front of me and then he was gone," you managed. "He flew off due west" You pointed.

"Okay, Martinez, get to the MAV and prep for launch. Everyone else, home in on Johanssen."

"Dr. Beck, how long can a person survive decompression?" Vogel asked.

"Less than a minute." Beck looked back at you. You could hear the pain in his voice. No. Mark couldn't be... He was just beside you a moment ago.

"Commander, the MAV's got a seven degree tilt. It'll tip at 12.3."

"Copy that."

He's alive, he can't be dead!

"Johanssen, Watney's bio-monitor sent something before going offline. My computer just says 'Bad Packet,'" Beck said.

"Give me a sec," Johanssen said.

"Commander, message from Houston. We're officially scrubbed. The storm's definitely too rough."

"Copy."

"Beck, I have the raw packet!" Johanssen said, "It's plaintext: BP 0, PR 0, TP 36.2. That's as far as I got."

Beck sighed and shook his head. "Blood pressure zero, pulse rate zero, temperature normal..."

Your chest tightened and your eyes burned. "Temperature normal?" You asked hopefully.

"It takes a while for the-" Beck swallowed. "It takes awhile to cool."

"Commander, tilting at 10.5 degrees now, with gusts pushing it to 11." Martinez reported.

"Copy, if it tips, launch."

"What about you commander?"

"I'm going to search a little more."

"You really think I'll leave you behind?" Martinez asked.

"I just ordered you to. You four, get to the ship." Lewis replied.

"Let me help search commander, we'll find him faster if we-" Lewis cut you off.

"That's an order, Y/L/N. Go."

Beck nudged you forward. You reluctantly allowed him to.

"Johanssen, would the rover IR camera do any good?"

"Negative. IR can't get through sand any better than visible light."

"What about the proximity radar? Could it detect Watney's suit?"

"No way. It's made to see Hermes, not the metal in a single space suit."

"Give it a try," Lewis ordered.

"Commander, I know you don't want to hear this... but Wat-... Mark's dead." Beck said.

No.

Please...

Everything around you was a blur. You went through the motions from training. Strapping yourself in, readying your station, waiting for launch. You couldn't look at the empty seat beside you. You couldn't think about anything but your job right now, If you allowed your thoughts to that dark place, you'd have to be dragged along by the rest of the crew.

You couldn't do that to them. Not now.

Lewis returned to the ship and strapped herself in. "Still at pilot-release," Martinez said softly. "Ready for launch."

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I'm sorry Commander, you need to verbally-"

"Launch."

You felt the bone-crushing power of ascent. The g's did nothing but forcefully push the tears from your eyes.

You wish it would have been you.

~~~

Mark Watney closed out of the mission log application and stared at the computer screen for a few minutes. He couldn't fathom the hopelessness he was feeling, it was too deep to swim out of. What else was there to do but sit and wait to die? Maybe it would be easier to just go into the airlock and open the doors!

Watney turned his head to a picture of you on the wall behind the computer. It was there among other pictures of the crew and their families. You were standing with your brother in front of one of those rickety wooden roller coasters at Six Flags. He felt a painful twinge in his chest. You thought he was dead and there was no way to tell you otherwise.

He was completely alone, had the whole goddamned planet to himself. Mark rubbed his hands over his face. "Fuck..." he said. "Fuck!" he pulled at the hair on his head before looking up at the picture again. He wished he would have kissed you. He wanted to that morning when you were sharing coffee. He should have said he loved you. Mark hadn't said it in so long.

He knew you like the back of his hand. You were blaming yourself. Everyone in the crew was probably doing the same. He could barely stomach the thought.

Mark grabbed the picture from the wall and shuffled to the bunks. He was so tired and in a lot of pain from the stupid antenna. He was about to settle into his bed, when his eyes landed on yours. After a moment of deliberation, he hobbled into your bunk and pulled the covers up to his chin. It still smelled like you. He buried his face into your pillow and cried.

~~~

You sat in the dining area in the Hermes, watching as the windows slowly spun around. It had been about a week since the incident and you weren't sure you had any more tears left to cry. You did your best to keep on task during your waking hours, only allowing yourself to feel when everyone else was either asleep or taking the piloting shift.

Your fingers drummed lightly against the table, mingling with the beeps, boops, groans, and hums of the ship keeping you safe from the unforgiving vacuum of space. You thought about a lot of things. About Mark, his parents, the house he wanted so badly to buy, his favorite music, his plants growing in the botany lab... The one thing you didn't want to think about was his body, how it would be buried by sand and dust within the year, how Mars would never let it decay. You tried not to think about how if you had just reached for him, maybe he'd still be alive.

"Y/N?" A familiar German accent spoke. You tensed and dared a glance back at Vogel.

"Hey, what's up?" You plastered a grin on your face.

"I have noticed you've not been sleeping. You are... Okay?" He asked, lumbering closer. He was clearly very tired and you felt terrible he was here worrying about you instead of getting some much deserved rest.

"Yeah... Yeah I'm okay Alex, just... Can't sleep." You sighed.

"Have you spoken to doctor Beck? I am sure we have sleep medication on board."

"Oh I know... I just don't really want to bother him, you know? I mean, we're all going through it right now..." You shifted under his gaze.

"You are having bad dreams," Vogel stated. "You're afraid if you sleep, they will come back."

"How could you tell?" You peeked tiredly up at him.

"My little monkeys... before I left, some of them had bad dreams. A father can always tell." He sat down beside you at the table.

You felt your eyes burning again. You hadn't dared ask for comfort from your crew mates, not even Chris. Now that you were receiving it, you wished you had asked for it long ago. There was a hellish cocktail of emotions running through you: relief, sadness, safety, longing, despair. You were so relieved that Alex was here. You were sad to think about how deeply his loved ones must be missing him. You thought about what Alex said about his "little monkeys." Mark would have made a great father if he'd only had the chance.

"You love him. Very much," Vogel said.

"I did..." You whispered.

"You do." Alex grabbed your hand and the tears poured from your eyes. "You do..."

"I do," You let out a choked sob. Vogel pulled you into a gentle hug.

"This pain of loss we feel... It will never go away. But it will get easier to live with as time goes by. This, I promise is true."

"Thank you Alex." You whispered.

"You're welcome..." He patted your back and pulled away. "Now, shall we try some rest?"

"I'll try," you put on a brave face.

"And- what is it?-" He thought aloud. "When first you don't succeed-"

"Try try again," You said with a sad smile. "Words to live by."

~~~

LOG ENTRY: SOL 23

So, I'm still brain storming the whole, "Mark Watney can only really make his potato farm last 90 days," problem. Can't say It's going too well. I'm surrounded by the stench of my own shit. Kinda distracting.

I've made the executive decision to take a long overdue break out in the rover. Sure, logically I know I should probably utilize every spare second on planning my survival right down to the last drop of water, but riddle me this: just who is gonna stop me? Not NASA, that's for sure.

It's funny. I came into the rover to escape the rancid poop smell, but it seems to have followed me. Turns out, I was the poop smell all along! If Y/N were here, they would have forcibly shoved into the shower. They'd say something like... "Don't even think about touching me until you smell like ocean breeze!" (What does ocean breeze even smell like? How do you smell a breeze?...)There are few things in life Y/N hates more than stink. Me being on Mars is probably one of them.

What I would give to see you right now. Even just a dream would be nice, but I guess that's asking too much.

I miss my parents a lot. Maybe that's an understatement. I haven't really let myself think about it, but sitting here in this cramped rover really has my mind wandering. I really should have told them about Y/N. Maybe if things don't work out for me, they could confide in each other.

I don't have much else to say. The calculations aren't done and quite frankly, I'm depressed.

I'll probably scrub this log from the system, It's kind of a downer.

~~~

You had been doing better. Getting at least 6 hours of sleep a day was an accomplishment and you were eating your meals, but a certain date on the calendar was growing closer. You made yourself busier and busier, but no amount of work would keep this day from coming.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 62

On Earth it's January 8th, which is a very special day. Our anniversary! It's official, we've been together for three years! Yeah, yeah I hear you. These logs are for work purposes only, but I promise no one's gonna see this one. Not even you.

I think about that day a lot. It was freezing outside and snowing everywhere. I don't even remember why we walked to the cafe that day, but I'm thankful for it. You were holding your hot cup so tightly and your coat wasn't nearly thick enough for the weather. You were complaining that the snow came early and I laughed at you.

I think we both knew for a long time that this would happen. A year at least. We kept ourselves just at arms length, on the brink of lovers without ever crossing that line. We never discussed it before, but we knew once the mission was over, we'd do it. We'd take that step.

I had wanted to kiss you all day. Want isn't really the word for it. How about craved. Desired? Yearned~

I wrapped my coat around you and you complained again, said that I'd catch a cold and it would all be your fault. The way you looked at me... Still gives me chills when I think about it. It's like I'm still standing on that sidewalk, snowflakes landing on my nose.

I told you, "I can think of something that'll warm us both up..."

You said, "Then what are you waiting for?"

I was right of course. I always am. I just didn't expect you to be so... magnetizing! Like damn babe, you had me weak in the knees! (What am I, a Disney princess?)

I'll be back with you someday. It'll be your anniversary present from me. You're welcome in advance. XOXO - World's Handsomest Boyfriend.

-P.S. You left your deodorant in the Hab. I've been using it. Totally not creepy.

-P.P.S. Who's the stinky one now?

-P.P.P.S. You better be prepared, when I get off this wasteland of a planet, I'm making up for lost time. You aren't gonna be able to walk for AT LEAST a week.

-P.P.P.P.S. I was talking about CUDDLING you perv~

(or was I? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

~~~

This had to be one of the greatest days in Mark Watney's life.

Contact.

Sweet, sweet contact!

[11:18]JPL: Mark, This is Venkat Kapoor. We've been watching you since Sol 49. The whole world's been rooting for you. Amazing job, getting Pathfinder. We're working on rescue plans. JPL is adjusting Ares 4's MDV to do a short overland flight. They'll pick you up, then take you with them to Schiaparelli. We're putting together a supply mission to keep you fed until Ares 4 arrives.

Watney could hardly believe it! Everything was working! They had known he was alive since Sol 49! His eyes were brimming and his breathing came out in short gasps as he fought to control himself. He used to take messages for granted, now they're the only tether he has to humanity.

He's not alone anymore.

His hands shook as he wrote out his message.

[11:29]Watney: Glad to hear it. Really looking forward to not dying. I want to make it clear it wasn't the crew's fault. What did they say when they found out I was alive?

Mark shifted in his seat. The reply was taking a bit longer than expected. He hadn't talked to anyone in so long. The thought of being so close, only to fail right in the beginning was terrifying. He wasn't sure he could survive that kind of disappointment.

[11:48]JPL: We haven't told the crew you're alive yet. We wanted them to focus on their own mission.

What. The. Fuck.

Mark covered his face with his hands and released a frustrated groan. "You've got to be shitting me!"

You didn't know. You didn't know he was alive.

"What the fuck? Wha... What the fuck?!" He took a shaky breath and wrestled with his frustration.

[12:05]Watney: They don't know I'm alive? What the fuck? WTF? Seriously! What the fuck is wrong with you?

[12:23]JPL: Please watch your language. Everything you type is being broadcast live all over the entire world.

They did not just say that.

After everything he has been through, there is no way JPL just told him to watch his language.

So, that's how they want to play it, huh?

[12:42]Watney: Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck shit fuck! Fuck fuckity fuckfuckfuck! Oh look! A pair of boobs!-> (.Y.) How's that for watching my language, you goddamned bureaucratic felchers!

NASA got the message loud and clear.

~~~

Four months passed and you fell into a routine. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, repeat. It was predictable, which was something you were thankful for.

You took on Watney's role as the ship's botanist. You weren't as good as him, but really, who was? You couldn't match his skill even if you tried. Still, you followed all of his experiments. Took diligent notes and snapped as many pictures as you could.

Martinez joked that you took better care of the plants than yourself. It was one of those jokes meant to expose an underlying issue: You weren't looking after yourself. There was a shadow hanging over everything you did. The crew was experiencing it too. Mark Watney was one of a kind. Everyone he touched felt his loss so viscerally, so deeply.

You needed time, just like Vogel said. But that didn't mean everyone had to be okay with you beating yourself up like this.

Lewis knew better than anyone how you were feeling. As the Commander, she should have tried a little harder. And you... You were right there in arm's reach. Yes, Lewis knew how you felt only too well.

You heard a faint Knock in the doorway. You looked up from the camera and met Beck's eyes.

"Data dump will be completed soon. Care to join?" He smiled.

You managed a smile back, "Yeah, sure. I'm hoping I got something from my siblings. Maybe my niece and nephew too." You strapped the camera to the wall so it wouldn't float away, then you pushed yourself toward your crewmate.

"How about your parents?" He asked.

"Oh, that's a given. I can't get them to leave me alone," you chuckled.

You floated down to Semicone-A, where everyone else was already waiting for the data dump.

"Is it here yet?" Beck asked.

"Almost, it's at ninety-eight percent." Johanssen shot him a grin.

"You're looking cheerful, Martinez," Beck laughed.

"My son turned three yesterday." He beamed. Should be some pics of the party. How about you?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just some peer reviews of a paper I wrote a few years back."

"Complete," Johanssen said. "All the personal e-mails are dispatched to your laptops. Also there's a telemetry update for Vogel and a system update for me....Huh.... There's a voice message addressed to the whole crew."

"Play it." Lewis shrugged. Everyone gathered around the screen as Beth pressed play.

"Hermes, this is Mitch Henderson," the message started.

"Henderson? Talking directly to us without CAPCOM?"

Lewis raised her hand to signal silence.

"I have some news. There's no subtle way to put this:.....Mark Watney's still alive."

Your stomach dropped.

"Wha-" Beck choked.

"I know that's a surprise. And I know you'll have a lot of questions. We're going to answer those questions. But for now I'll just give you the basics. He's alive and healthy. We found out two months ago and decided not to tell you. I was strongly against all that. We're telling you now because we finally have communication with him and a viable rescue plan. It boils down to Ares 4 picking him up with a modified MDV. We'll get you a full write-up of what happened, but it's definitely not your fault. Mark stresses that every time it comes up."

You clenched your eyes shut as they burned painfully with tears.

"Take some time to absorb this. Your science schedules are cleared for tomorrow. Send all the questions you want and we'll answer them. Henderson out."

Silence fell over the bridge.

"He...He's alive?" Martinez beamed.

"He lives." Vogel nodded excitedly and squeezed your shoulder.

"Holy shit!" Beck laughed. "Holy shit! Commander! He's alive!"

"I left him behind," Lewis muttered.

You covered your eyes with your hands, fighting to stay quiet.

"No, hey... we all left togeth-"

"You followed orders...I left him behind. In a barren, unreachable, godforsaken wasteland." Lewis scowled and trudged off the bridge.

Everyone stood around the console. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"Y/N?" Chris asked softly.

"Are you okay?" Beth added.

You shook your head. You couldn't look at any of them right now.

"I need a minute..." you said softly before hurrying back out of the Semicone. You retreated back to the comfort of the botany lab. It was all so much to process.

First Mark is dead, you left him behind to die. Then Mark is alive, you left him behind to die. He doesn't want you to blame yourselves, it was terrible luck. He's healthy. He can contact Earth. Mars is a desolate planet. He's all alone. On an entire planet. You left him there. He will never be safe until he's back on Earth soil. It will be four years until Ares 4 arrives.

He will be alone on Mars for four years.

You left him there.

~~~

Y/N,

I'm typing this letter to you because talking to you relaxes me. I won't actually be sending this to you. It's not going to be professional in nature like the other notes I've sent you. (JPL says that you have received all of them, but have neglected to send me any of your responses. The only one I have gotten from any of the crew was one from Lewis. She invited me for beer to make up for leaving me on Mars.)

Anyway, some bad stuff happened. I wish you were here. Not because I want you to have been launched by an airlock. Never that. I just really fucking miss you. I really need you right now. I almost died last night. I had to do some serious surgery on my suit to keep me alive and I had to sift through the dilapidated remnants of the Hab to find a new one.

I'm so tired. I just want you to hold me. I'm so sick of all of this. Fuck Mars, Fuck the Hab. I'm so sick and tired of getting my hopes up and being disappointed. I miss you so much. You make every one of my bad days good. I know if you were here, everything would be okay again.

Why did this have to happen?

Mars keeps throwing curve balls at me, but I'm not giving up. I've got a lot to look forward to and I'm trying to focus on that.

-Mark

P.S. Your bed stopped smelling like you a month ago.

~~~

The crew of Ares 3 met in the Rec. A secret message had arrived not even an hour ago. One that would alter their mission by 533 extra days.

"Are we going to do it?" Johanssen asked.

"I won't lie, I'd sure as hell like to. But this isn't a normal decision. This is something NASA expressly rejected. We're talking about mutiny. And that's not a word I throw around lightly," Lewis explained. "We'll only do it if we all agree. And before you answer, consider the consequences. If we mess up the supply rendezvous, we die. If we mess up the Earth gravity assist, we die. If we do everything correctly, we add 533 days to our mission. 533 days of unplanned space travel where anything could go wrong. Maintenance will be a hassle. Something might break that we can't fix. If it's life-critical, we die."

"Sign me up!" Martinez announced, causing you to smile. At least someone else was as enthusiastic to bring Mark home as you were.

"Easy, cowboy. You and I are military. There's a good chance we'd be court-martialed when we get home. As for the rest of you, I guarantee they'll never send you up again," Lewis said.

"If we do this," Vogel looked to you and back at Lewis. "It would mean over one thousand days of space. This is enough space for a life. I do not need to return."

You couldn't have possibly said it better yourself. It was like Alex was reading your mind.

"Sounds like Vogel's in. Me too obviously," Martinez laughed.

"Let's do it," Beck agreed.

"If you think it'll work, I trust you," Johanssen said.

Lewis nodded and turned to you. "Y/L/N?"

"You don't even need to ask me. Let's go get our boy," You smiled.

Wow. This is the first time you've smiled... a real smile, since leaving Mars.

'Hang in there babe,' You thought. 'I'm on my way.'

~~~

LOG ENTRY: SOL 192-2

Yep, another secret letter do my dear, long lost love~ How predictable. I don't really care, today's been a great day. I can't believe you're coming back for me! Here I was, thinking I'd have to survive without you for four years. Then there you go, riding in from the sunset to bring me home.

Logically I know the rest of the crew had something to do with it, but I kind of like the idea that maybe I am a Disney princess and you're my knight in shining armor coming to rescue me.

It's like the story of Rapunzel, except my tower is a whole planet and instead of catching my hair, you're catching my MAV. Now that I think about it, the stories are more different than they are similar.

That hardly matters though, what does matter is that for the first time I actually feel like I'll survive. I trust our team with every fiber of my being, but most of all I trust you. I'm gonna rest easy tonight. And in the morning I'll start my work on the rovers!

See you in about a year babe! I'll be counting down the hours. Literally.

LOG ENTRY: SOL 426

Happy anniversary Y/N! You thought I'd forget? Never! You know why that is? Because I fucking love you, that's why!

Four years we've been together as of today, that's assuming we are counting the year we've been apart as "being together", (which I do.) Today I'm really beating myself up over frying Pathfinder with my drill all those months ago. It was my only form of communication with you and I royally fucked it up.

You'd think that cutting myself off from Earth, NASA and humanity at large would be what upset me the most. Nope, it's the fact that I can't send you a super sneaky secret anniversary e-mail. I also missed my parents' birthdays, your birthday, Christmas AND Thanksgiving. Twice. Also, fucking Valentine's day! I used to hate that holiday before I met you.

Anyway, as you can see, I totally have all my priorities in order! Also! I got you a present~ Since you have no way to read this, I don't feel bad spoiling it for you. I found a little rock. It's in the shape of a heart.

Awwww wow! That's cute, I just realized that I'm giving you my heart for our anniversary! To be honest, you had it a long time ago.

I miss you. I miss your smell, your eyes, the feel of your skin. Most of all, I really, really miss your voice. I just want to hear you. I've forgotten what you sound like. I'm scared If I didn't have this picture of you and your brother, I'd forget what your face looks like too.

I'm starting my long commute to Schiaparelli in 23 days. It'll be a two month drive. I really hate driving in the rover. But if it gets me to you, who cares? I'm stalling. I've got a lot of work tomorrow and I just want to enjoy today. I wish I was there with you to enjoy it obviously, but we can't all get what we want (least of all, me.) I've learned how to settle.

Speaking of settling, what do you think about getting married in the woods, or a big grassy field? I'd like there to be as much green as possible. No red or orange, we're talking the opposite side of the color wheel here. I can picture you walking down the aisle. I'll be an absolute mess, but who cares. You're the love of my life. Thanks for, y'know, coming back to pick me up instead of leaving me to die on Mars.

I hope you like the rock.

-Mark

P.S. I grew a beard and my hair looks like the 80's had a baby with a grease monster. You'd hate it.

P.P.S. I hope you're into pirates~

P.P.P.S. Y/N Watney... Mark Y/L/N... hmmmmm, so hard to choose!

P.P.P.P.S. We are never eating potatoes again.

P.P.P.P.P.S And ABSOLUTELY NO DISCO MUSIC!

~~~

You stared at Mars creeping back into view. The last time you were here, Mark was sitting beside you, arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder. Maybe it wasn't your most subtle of moments, but how could anyone not be enthralled by the beauty of the red planet? Even now it was hard not to feel stricken with wonder.

Sometimes your mind played tricks on you. You'd see a speck of dust on the window and think you could see Watney on the surface. That was ridiculous of course, There is no possible way to see an individual person this far out. That didn't stop you from imagining it.

NASA had briefed everyone on the Martian's health, explained that he wouldn't look the same as the last time you saw him. You expected as much, but the thought still worried you. It wasn't that you were worried if you'd still find him attractive, there was no force on Earth or beyond that could change how much you loved Mark Watney. It was his health that worried you.

During all your back and forth questions with NASA that Henderson had arranged, you inquired about his health. They said he was doing well, but that he was stretching his little amount of food to its limits. That's what scared you the most. How would his immune system fare? How would he acclimate back to normal food on Earth? All of these questions went unanswered. NASA was honest, "we won't know for sure until he gets here."

"Mind if I join you?" Lewis asked softly, floating a short distance away.

"Of course Commander. I'd like the company," You said. It was surprising to realize you actually meant it. It'd been awhile since you wanted to spend time with anyone.

Melissa floated further into the cupola and settled beside you.

"Crazy to think that in a few days he'll be up here with us again..." Lewis said softly.

"Yeah..." you said softly, keeping your eyes ahead.

"I know how much you miss him... You two were always great friends."

You swallowed hard and tried to ignore the pit in your stomach as you nodded. "Yeah..."

You could see Lewis looking at you out of the corner of your eye. Her expression was conflicted. "I'm really sorry this happened. I know it's been hard on you. I should have searched a little longer-"

"Commander." You stopped her from continuing. "You did all you could. You made the right decision. I wish none of this had happened, but none of this was your fault. It couldn't have been easy to make the choice, and I'm willing to bet that if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't have been strong enough to do it. I'm sure everyone else feels the same exact way, Mark included." You placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Thanks, that's... Thank you," Melissa smiled.

"We're a team, that's what we do. We keep each other grounded."

"That's actually sort of what I wanted to talk to you about..."

"What do you mean?"

"NASA just sent the message a few minutes ago. They're letting us talk to Watney... Directly," Lewis said. You blinked in surprise. No matter how many times you asked, NASA wouldn't allow any kind of direct communication. You wondered why the sudden change of heart.

"Henderson thinks we need to remind him of what he has to look forward to, keep his eyes on the prize so to speak. At least, that's how he's been pitching it to the director. Anyway, the rest of the crew and I agree you should be the one to do it," she finished.

"R-really? I can talk to him?" You asked hopefully, hoping this wasn't a dream.

"Y/N, I can't think of anyone else he would need to hear from more."

~~~

Mark was waiting by the coms in the MAV for any final updates from NASA regarding the meticulous destruction of his ship, piece by piece. He had just finished taking out the main window and it was heavy as hell, even in Mars gravity. He was happy he at least had some time to rest after all that hard work. If he was lucky, maybe they'd wait too long and it would be too dark to get any work done. He could use a good sleep, it seemed like he was needing it more and more lately. Watney suddenly heard the telltale beeps that signaled an incoming message. He was expecting a barrage of questions about his progress, instead he got something so much better.

[19:22] Y/L/N: Hey, Mark.

Mark's voice got caught in his throat.

Y/N.

It had been so fucking long since he talked to you. His eyes burned and his hands shook. Watney leaned his head back in relief, thanking god for this incredible gift. "I just about gave up on you man..." Mark smiled to the sky before nervously typing back.

[19:23] MAV: Y/N!? Holy crap! They're finally letting you talk to me directly?

You released a sigh and covered your face with your hands. He was responding! Really responding! Everyone was looking at you. Beck beamed at you while Martinez watched on with interest. Lewis was waiting to see if you could handle it. No way you were gonna let this one chance slip through your fingers. You sniffed and wiped your eyes before responding.

[19:24] Y/L/N: Yes, NASA just gave the OK for direct communication an hour ago. We're only 35 light-seconds apart, so we can talk in near-real time. Johanssen just set up the system and I'm testing it out.

Mark sighed and smiled. Level headed and professional as always. How you had such self control, he had no idea.

[19:24] MAV: What took them so long to let us talk?

You looked up at Lewis, silently asking if you could relay the truth. She nodded.

[19:25] Y/L/N: The psych team was worried about personality conflicts. [19:25] MAV: Why? Just 'cause you guys abandoned me on a godforsaken planet with no chance of survival?

Mark typed without thinking and as soon as he hit send, he regretted it. He didn't want you to feel bad, It was a joke. You'd understand that right?

[19:26] Y/L/N: Not funny. Don't make me come down there and kick you.

Watney let out a choked laugh. Half a chuckle and half a sob.

[19:26] MAV: God I missed you.

You smiled at the screen and pushed down the urge to hug Martinez behind you. You were really talking to him! He was only 35 light-seconds away! Suddenly you realized you were blessed with an opportunity even more amazing than just talking with him. You could ask him what you had been asking in all of your disregarded emails!

[19:27] Y/L/N: We missed you too. I've had to take over the botany lab. You'll be happy to know I haven't killed any of your plants...Yet. How are you feeling? We've gotten a few updates from NASA regarding your health, but nothing in incredible detail.

Watney chuckled at the text appearing in front of him. 'Cute,' he thought.

[19:27] MAV: Awwww, are you worried about me?

The crew laughed and you shook your head, swiftly adding your response.

[19:28] Y/L/N: Do I really need to answer that?

Mark snickered and decided not to tease you. He wanted to tell you all of his woes and adequately prepare you for how much he had changed. But he didn't want to put a damper on the mood. Luckily, Watney was a master at sugarcoating.

[19:29] MAV: I'm doing okay. My clothing feels a little loose and I'm craving spaghetti. I'm also in desperate need of a shower. Other than that, I'm just fine. Looking forward to seeing you and the rest of the crew.

Your smile fell. You were happy he was being at least somewhat honest, but you knew it was probably worse than he was making out to be. Unfortunately, Watney was a master at sugarcoating.

[19:29] Y/L/N: We're looking forward to seeing you too. I think it's safe to say a big group hug is in order, if I can get Vogel in on it that is.

Watney hummed at the thought of holding you in his arms. The image was so clear, yet so far away.

[19:30] MAV: At this point, I'd even settle for holding hands. Group hug sounds nice. How are you doing Y/N? I wrote you a lot of emails.

You grimaced and thought your next words through very carefully. With the crew watching, it was hard to collect your thoughts.

[19:31] Y/L/N: I wrote you plenty of my own. There was only so much air time to be used outside of helping you survive. My guess is they put priority on Commander Lewis' emails. Rightfully so of course. I'm doing fine. I've missed you a lot. To be honest, a lot is probably a huge understatement. It's hard to express exactly what I want to say over message.

Mark nodded. You watched him presumably die, leave his 'body' behind, mourn his loss over a period of months, find out you left him there alive, be unable to talk to him for about a year, and suddenly he was here reading and responding to your messages, but you have to limit the details so as to keep those private thoughts private. He couldn't imagine what he would do if the roles were reversed. What you wanted to say needed to be kept between you and him. He understood. There was a lot he wanted to say too.

[19:32] MAV: I know what you mean. I'll be there soon, then you can tell me all about it in person. And I'll tell you all about my space crops and my long voyage to the MAV. Have I mentioned I'm a space pirate?

The crew laughed and for a moment, it felt like he was there. Really there.

[19:33] Y/L/N: Good to know you're still the funniest person on Mars. [19:33] MAV: Thanks! [19:33] MAV: Wait a minute! Rude! Don't make me come up there! [19:34] Y/L/N: Don't threaten me with a good time, Watney. [19:34] MAV: ;)

You were about to make some really elaborate emoji out of parentheses and dots, when you saw a notification from NASA. Playtime was over. You scowled as you broke the news to your boyfriend.

[19:34] Y/L/N: I hate to cut this short, but NASA wants us to keep the line open. We'll be in touch asking for updates on your progress, but don't expect too much witty banter.

Mark's heart sank a little, but there was no use in leaving such a perfect night on a sour note.

[19:35] MAV: Figures. NASA never lets me do anything fun! Tell the others I said hi. [19:36] Y/L/N: I'll be sure to pass it along!

Mark's leg tapped nervously. He knew NASA was right about keeping the line open, but he really didn't want it to end yet.

[19:36] MAV: Hey, thanks for coming to get my sorry ass. [19:36] Y/L/N: No thanks necessary. We'd do it a million times over.

Watney knew you meant it. He could feel the warmth through the bland MAV text on the screen. He couldn't wait to be up there with you...But what if something went wrong? Fuck, don't think about this now! Everything's going to be fine! Right? But what if... There was always a chance, especially on Mars, that things would not go your way. And the likelihood of him surviving this mission was slim at best. He needed to tell you. He should have said it a lot more. A whisper here and there in the hallways, maybe some stupid middle school secret code. Like hell he was going to pass up this one chance, consequences be damned.

[19:37] MAV: I love you, Y/N.

Your heart lurched in your chest. The room fell silent. Martinez lightly squeezed your shoulder. Your eyes flitted around the room to your colleagues. All of them stared with bewildered looks on their faces. What were you supposed to say? What if you got him in trouble? If he was worried about that, why would he send this in the first place?

'You know what, Fuck it,' you thought.

Watney watched the screen with baited breath. "Please..." He whispered. "Please."

[19:38] Y/L/N: I love you too Mark. Sleep well, we'll be there before you know it.

Mark released a cry of joy and typed through the tears.

[19:39] MAV: You too. Goodnight. [19:39] Y/L/N: Goodnight, Mark.

The line received no new messages after that. Mark rested there a moment before retreating back to the rover. Once the airlock had engaged, he removed his helmet and admired the picture of you and your brother he had taped to the rover computer.

He used to take those words for granted. Why say it when you could show it? He showed it to you as often as he could... At least he used to. You never made him question it for a second. You gave him compliments, brought him water on late nights, listened to his nerdy ramblings about plants and D&D. He'd help you to bed when you were too tired to stand, work out the knots in your shoulders while you typed. Over a year has passed and your grip on his heart is still firm. And when you said those three little words, all of it made sense again. Mark Watney would never again question the power of I love you. He was going to remind you every chance he got. He was going to ask you for it as often as possible. His mom and dad would hear it in every phone call, and no more excluding his friends. He loved them too. He would say it until the term loses all meaning, then he'd remember this night where I love you saved his life.

Mark took off his gloves and danced his thin fingers over the photograph.

"See you soon, baby..." He whispered, "I love you."

~~~

You pulled on your headset and took a deep, self soothing breath. In an hour, the love of your life was going to be launched into Mars's orbit in what could barely be considered a MAV. The thing was a Frankenstein version of the shuttle you had taken off the planet nearly two years ago.

You shook your head. What Mark needed right now was confidence. You could do that.

"How you feeling Y/L/N?" Martinez smiled over at you.

"Like I'm gonna throw up," You laughed.

"Anxious huh?" He smirked, "For the launch, or for your man?"

"Both," You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes. Martinez and Beck hadn't stopped giving you crap for the I love you texts. You didn't mind too much, it was nice being able to acknowledge that side of your relationship with Mark. Unfortunately it made for some rather awkward conversations with the NASA administrators.

"You got nothing to worry about, he's in good hands," Rick said reassuringly.

"I know, we're all badass trained professionals with years of experience," you chuckled. "I can't help it. I'm built to worry."

"You've checked and double checked the telemetry. Johanssen confirmed all of your calculations. It's going to be a smooth ride for sure."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

//////////

Mark scowled at his reflection in the mirror and stroked his beard. He looked like shit, no way around it. He hadn't taken a moment to really look at himself for a long time and he couldn't say he liked what he saw.

"It's the end of an era," Watney said to nobody as he grabbed the razor. "No more captain blonde-beard."

Mark took his time shaving his chin and trimming the hair on his head. By the end of it, he still looked like shit but slightly less so. He felt a little more like himself at least.

He patted his chest to make sure the picture was still there, tucked under his uniform. It was there, along with his anniversary present to you. He slipped the headset over his ears and turned it on. It was nearly time to go. Watney pulled the suit on over his head and double checked if it was all on securely.

"I'm leaving Mars today, one way or another..." He whispered. "About fucking time."

//////////

"Fuel engine green," Your voice seemed to cause time itself to slow down. Not just for Mark, but for the entire world. "Engine alignment, perfect." Mark closed his eyes took a series of deep breaths, trying in vain to keep his emotions in check. "Communications five by five. We are ready for preflight checklist, Commander."

"Copy." Lewis said. "Mission Control, this is Hermes actual. We will proceed on schedule. we have T minus two minutes, ten seconds to launch... Mark." The commander turned her attention to the man of the hour. "About two minutes Watney. How you doing down there?"

"I'm good." He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. "I'm anxious to get up to you. Thanks for coming back for me."

You sniffed and shot a smile to Johanssen, who sent you a grin of her own.

"We're going to make it happen. Remember, You'll be pulling some pretty heavy g's. It's okay if you pass out. You're in Martinez's hands."

"Well, tell that asshole no barrel rolls."

"Copy that, MAV."

"CAPCOM."

"Go," you said.

Mark's bottom lip quivered

"Guidance."

"Go," Johanssen said.

"Remote Command."

"Go," Martinez said.

"Telemetry."

"Go," you said again.

He couldn't fight it anymore, he let the tears fall.

"Recovery."

"Go," Beck said.

"Secondary Recovery."

"Go," Vogel said.

"Pilot."

Mark steadied his voice before speaking, "go."

"Mission control, we are go for launch. T minus ten," You said.

"Nine."

"Eight."

"Seven."

"Six."

"Five."

Mark closed his eyes and focused on your voice. "See you in a few, baby..." He whispered.

"Four."

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

The force of the blast was incredible, and growing more painful by the second. His breathing came out short and panicked as the Hab canvas rattled nightmarishly against the MAV. His panic only increased as the canvas ripped from the shuttle, exposing him to the full force of the MAV's thrust. He couldn't even scream. All he could do was watch the sky grow darker and darker.

"Watney." He heard your voice from far away.

"Watney, do you read me?" Your voice called again. His eyes drooped and his vision faded.

//////////

"Watney. Do you read?" You asked in the calmest voice you could muster.

"He's probably passed out. He pulled 12 g's on the ascent. Give him a few minutes," Beck said.

"Copy that." You said and turned your attention on the numbers before you. "I have interval pings. Intercept velocity will be eleven meters per second."

"I can make that work," Beck confirmed.

"Distance at intercept will be....we'll be sixty-eight kilometers apart..." You whimpered and buried your face in your hands.

"Did they say sixty-eight Kilometers? Kilometers?!" Beck cried.

"Keep it together, work the problem. Martinez, any juice left in the MAV?" Lewis asked.

"Negative, Commander."

"Then we'll have to go to him. Y/L/N, time to intercept?"

"Thirty-nine minutes, twelve seconds," You steeled yourself and focused on your coordinates.

"Martinez, what if we point the attitude thrusters all the same direction?" Lewis asked.

"Depends on how much we want to save for the attitude adjustments on the trip home."

"How much do you need?"

"I could get by with maybe twenty percent of what's left. If I use the other eighty percent... We'd get a delta-v of thirty-one meters per second."

"Y/L/N, Math."

"In thirty-nine minutes, we'd deflect....seventy-two kilometers! Use seventy-five point five percent of remaining attitude adjust fuel. That'll bring the intercept range to zero," You did the math quickly.

"Do it." Lewis said.

"Hold your horses, that'll get the range to zero, but the velocity will be forty-two meters per second."

"Then we have thirty-nine minutes to figure out how to slow down. Burn the jets."

//////////

Mark awoke to find himself spinning. Flashes of stars and the red glow of the Martian surface had him feeling a little dizzy. "MAV to Hermes?"

"Watney?" You gasped.

"Affirmative," he grunted.

"What's your status?" You asked calmly.

"Uhhh..." He winced and leaned back in his seat. "My chest hurts. I think I broke a rib. How are you, sweetheart?" He groaned.

"We're working on getting to you," you relayed. "There was a complication in the launch."

"Yeah," Watney dejectedly looked at the massive hole in the roof of his ship. "The canvas didn't hold. I think it ripped early in the ascent."

"That's consistent with what we saw during the launch," Lewis agreed.

"How bad is it, Commander?" he asked.

"We were able to correct the intercept range with Hermes's attitude thrusters, but there's a problem with the intercept velocity."

"How big a problem."

"Forty-two meters per second."

"Well..." Mark paused and tried to wrap his head around that number. "Shit."

//////////

You typed furiously, staring at your screen unblinkingly as you worked through all the possible ways to bring down the velocity.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Watney said.

"Of course you do, what have you got?" Lewis asked.

"I could find something sharp in here and poke a hole in my EVA suit. I could use the escaping air as a thruster and fly my way to you. The source of thrust would be on my arm, so I'd be able to control it pretty easily."

"How does he come up with this shit?" Martinez laughed.

"I can't see you having any control if you did. You'd be eyeballing the intercept using a thrust vector you can barely control."

"I admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: I'd get to fly around like Iron Man."

"We'll keep working on ideas," Lewis said.

"Iron Man, Commander. Iron Man."

"Stand by," Lewis temporarily cut contact with Watney.

You furrowed your brows at the screen, waiting for the correct course of action to jump out at you. Suddenly, there it was. "Wait! that's it!" you looked back at the Commander. "Mark's a genius! We could use the ship's atmosphere as thrust. We could blow the vehicular airlock. Seal the bridge and the reactor room. Iron Man... But bigger!"

"....." Melissa stared at you for a moment before addressing Alex. "Vogel?"

"Yes commander?"

"I need you to come inside and make a bomb," she ordered.

~~~

"I have visual, I can see the MAV," Beck said. "Jesus Mark, what did you do to that thing?"

"You should see the rover," Mark radioed. He was ready to get out of his goddamned chair, ready to get away from this hunk of junk that could barely be considered a MAV.

"Call out my velocity to Mark every two seconds or so," Chris said.

"Copy." You responded.

"Hey Beck, the front's wide open. I'll get up there and be ready to grab at you." Watney said.

"Negative, no untethered movement. Stay strapped to your chair until you're attached to Beck."

"Copy." Mark huffed. Lewis was right, impatience would be the death of him out here and he had come too far to die now. Instead, he focused on your voice calling out the relative velocity.

"Three point one meters per second."

"Eleven meters to target."

"Six meters."

"Contact." Beck grabbed the canvas of the destroyed MAV. "Firm contact."

"You have fourteen seconds Dr. Beck."

"Copy."

Nothing could have prepared Watney for how he'd feel seeing Beck's helmet poking through the opening.

Pure. Unadulterated. Serotonin.

"Visual on Watney!"

"Visual on Beck!"

"How ya doin' man?" Beck pushed himself toward Mark, meanwhile Mark was trying not to have another emotional breakdown.

"I....I just...Give me a minute, you're the first person I've seen in eighteen months," Watney croaked.

"We don't have a minute," Beck clumsily collided with Mark. "Contact with Watney... Connected!"

"Restraints off," Watney called.

"We're outta here!"

//////////

"Houston, this is Hermes actual. Seven crew safely aboard," Lewis's voice echoed in your mind as you, Martinez, Johanssen, and Lewis pushed yourselves toward the airlock where Vogel and Beck were bringing him in.

Mark.

You could see his dusty helmet from the small window on the airlock. Already you were feeling an overwhelming ache deep in your chest. There he was, only a few feet away, behind this door. Your crewmates flew in and clambered for Watney.

"Hey guys!" He laughed.

You were frozen in the doorway.

His helmet came off.

Everything slowed down.

Everyone was smiling and laughing. High fiving. Quick hugs. They all wanted to get as far away from the smell as they could.

Your eyes met.

There were beads of what looked like water floating in the air. When did you start crying?

Mark held out his arms to you and you wasted no more time. He hugged you as tightly as he could with the bulky arms of his EVA suit. His face buried into your neck as he cried softly. "Y/N...." He whispered in a broken voice. "Y-Y/N?"

"I'm right here Mark... Right here." You cradled the back of his head, scratching that spot at the base of his neck. He always liked it when you did that

"I stink, don't I?" Watney laughed in between sobs.

"You do. You really do," You tried to keep up the joke. "But if im being completely honest, I couldn't possibly care less," you laughed.

Slowly, you pulled back so you could get a good look at his face. He was thin. Gaunt, and covered in bed sores. That should have been expected of course, It's not like he had anywhere to shower in the rover. He looked at you like you were an angel. He looked embarrassed, like he wanted to hide.

Your fingers danced over his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed at the tenderness. The crew watched on with pride and varying degrees of bashfulness.

Mark opened his eyes and stared at you pleadingly as orbs of tears flowed from their corners. "Y/N... Please..." He whispered.

You didn't hesitate for a second.

You grabbed the sides of Mark's face and smashed your lips against his. So soft... your hands are so soft and your lips are trembling. The heat of your skin, the scent of your hair. It was even better than he remembered. He couldn't breathe, he could barely even think. He wanted so desperately to kiss you back, to fall into your embrace until there's no space left between, but his ribs hurt like hell and his suit was in the way. Mark whimpered as your fingers tangled into his hair. Fuck. Fuck. 'Everything hurts baby, please don't stop kissing me,' he pleaded in his head. 'Don't stop.'

When you started pulling away, he reached out to pull you closer again, but winced when he moved his arm.

"Slow down, baby." You breathed and pressed a little smooch to his forehead.

"Alright love birds, I need to get Iron Man over here to sick bay."

"But-" Watney protested.

"No buts, you need an X-ray and a shower. Maybe three." Beck laughed.

Mark looked at you pleadingly and you caressed his face. "I'll be by once Beck fixes you up. I gotta help check the ship for damage. Okay?"

He nodded and smiled. "Don't miss me too much~"

"You seek the impossible, Watney." You kissed his forehead again and let Chris lead your Martian down the hall to his quarters.

"Wow," Martinez said "I can't decide if that was incredibly romantic or incredibly awkward."

"Shut up Martinez," You playfully shoved his shoulder.

"Honestly though, he smells terrible! You've got some nerves of steel, Y/L/N," Johanssen joked.

"My boyfriend just spent eighteen months alone on a remote planet, If he wants a kiss he's gonna get that goddamned kiss. Definitely not a quick one and definitely not a half-assed one. But I will say one thing," you grinned.

"What's that?" Lewis smirked.

"He's not getting another one until he brushes his teeth."

~~~

Mark settled into his bunk after what felt like hours. He finally had a bath. Five, in fact. The showers were on a timer to conserve water. He had to run that timer five times before he finally felt clean. The water hurt the sores on his skin, but he felt so much better afterward that he almost wanted to go in for a sixth one. Mark brushed his teeth about three times and got rid of all the tangles in his hair. He'd need someone to touch up the cutting job he did. Now that it was all brushed out, it looked astoundingly bad.

After his long grooming session, Beck took an X-ray and determined that he'd broken two ribs. Chris bandaged him up, gave him some pain medicine, made him eat, and sent him to bed for some well deserved rest. At first, Mark protested. He hated the idea of everyone else fixing the ship while their lead engineer was taking a nap. But he was painfully tired and painfully...well... in pain.

Hey! His bunk didn't smell like shit! That's a huge upgrade from his bunk in the Hab- no more thinking about that place.

With a deep groan, Watney eased himself into bed. Weird...his sheets smelled like you. He didn't mind of course, you always smelled nice. He had never been more thankful for the centripetal force spinning the ship. He would have hated having broken ribs in zero g's. He imagined trying to sleep with his body constantly moving ever so slightly. Sounded like hell to him.

Mark wondered what the others were doing. He hoped there wasn't something too terribly wrong with the ship. The subtle groans of metal didn't ease his nerves. He was never scared of the Hermes before, but he was just now coming to terms with that fact that the ship had taken some serious abuse over the past few months, not to mention the past few hours. Normally Hermes would undergo maintenance after each mission, but because they turned around to get him that maintenance was scrapped.

New fear unlocked: Dooming his team to die in space because they had to turn around and get him.

He almost thought the knocking on his door was the hull breaking apart into a billion little bite-sized pieces.

"Come in," he said.

He expected it to be Beck checking in on him, but he was relieved when you poked your head in with a shy smile.

"Heyyyy, look over there! It's the world's handsomest boyfriend!" You said with gusto.

"You are such a kiss ass," Mark laughed, which hurt his ribs, which made him laugh again from how pitiful he must look.

You scoffed as you stepped into his quarters, shutting the door behind you. "You calling me a liar?" you grabbed a loose storage box and used it as a chair so you could sit beside his bed.

"That's exactly what I'm calling you," he smirked. "Seriously. Have you seen me lately? I look like a... a popsicle stick with a bad haircut."

You looked him up and down. His sores looked a lot better after cleaning them. You had no doubt they would heal nicely. The malnourishment on the other hand... That might take some work. You and Beck already had a few dietary plans for him. You discussed it while you reorganized the chow hall. Still, Mark was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. Even now, those alluring blue eyes were mesmerizing you. And let's not forget that goddamned tantalizing smile.

"I'm looking at you right now, babe," You giggled.

"And?"

"You're still as gorgeous as ever. Just a gorgeous man who's been through some shit," you carded your fingers through his hair. Mark hummed and closed his eyes. "How are you feeling?" you whispered.

"Physically or emotionally?"

"Both."

"Emotionally, happy. Very happy. Best day of my life kind of happy," he smiled. "Physically, pretty shitty. The medicine hasn't kicked in."

"Anything I can do to help you feel better?" you asked warmly.

Watney sent you a smug look, "Oh, I can think of a few things that might help~"

"Not until your ribs are healed."

"Damn."

You leaned down and pushed his hair back so you could kiss his forehead. He gave you a dazed grin, "oh, what do you know? I feel better already," he whispered in a gravelly voice. "... I really missed you..."

"I missed you too Mark..."

"I can't believe I can... I can feel you again. I can hear you and see you and feel you... s'insane..." He reached up and cupped your cheek despite the pain. "You were always on my mind. I-I just really wanted... I wanted to make it back to you." He brought his thumb just under your eye to catch a stray tear.

You covered his hand with yours and pressed a kiss to his palm.

"I-I don't even know what to say... I've been feeling so much, I don't know how to... how to-" He swallowed hard.

"Everything's changed so fast," you reassured him. "But we aren't on the messaging system anymore. It's a long journey home, we have plenty of time to find the right words," you continued to run your fingers into his hair.

"I fucking love you... " he closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of your nails against his scalp. "I'm gonna marry you one day, decided just now."

"Just now?" You snickered.

"No...Realistically, it was the first night we uh... slept together. Do you remember that?" Watney chuckled.

"Of course I do," you smiled, thinking of his messy blonde hair, searing gaze, and strong arms. He took his time with you that night, unhurried, attentive, and unabashedly vocal. "How could I forget?"

Mark shook his head and looked away to hide his blush, but not even his smile could distract you from it. "Sorry, sorry. Go on, continue!"

"Well, I uh..." He let out a sheepish chuckle. "Obviously every part of that night was perfect, but it's what happened after that really changed things."

"Oh?" you leaned closer, curiosity getting the better of you.

"You let me be the little spoon. I'm fine with being the big spoon most of the time, but you gotta be the little spoon sometimes, you know? No one ever let me be the little spoon before you... And when I woke up, you were still holding me." His fingertips danced down your arm, leaving a trail of chills in their wake. Once he reached your hand, Mark intertwined your fingers. It wasn't a conscious movement for him, simply muscle memory. But you couldn't keep your mind off of it. "I know I goof around a lot, but I can't stress how serious I'm being when I say... I have never felt that loved before. It was just... such a perfect night. I knew that you were the one for me well before, but that was the first time I really saw my future flash before my eyes like that."

Your eyes stung a little as you tenderly kissed his lips. "Want to know when I decided?" you whispered against him.

"Please..." He whispered back.

"Remember when I had that terrible flu during the first year of our training program?"

"Oh damn, yeah I do! You looked terrible, baby." Mark teased.

"I felt terrible. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and I definitely couldn't go to lectures... I was so worried about missing, even though the professors agreed there was no way I could come to class. You brought me a copy of your notes. The copy machine in the library was down, so you had to write them by hand... you even filled them with these horrible stick figure drawings," you laughed and Mark brought your knuckles to his lips and watched you, immersed in the sound of your voice. It was like he was trying to commit you to memory. You were doing much the same.

"Anyway, you stayed with me and you made some Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. You stopped by everyday until I got better."

"We were just friends back then," he whispered against your hand.

"I know, but every time I think about how much I love you... that memory comes back, playing on repeat."

"Say that again."

"That again," you smirked. Mark gave you a sassy eyebrow. "Which part babe?" you laughed.

"The uh..." he trailed off.

You lightly kissed his cheek, "I love you, Mark... I love you so much." You peppered his face with little smooches. When you finally pulled back, he was all red again and teary eyed.

"I love you too, Y/N," He whispered. You sat together in silence for awhile before Mark suddenly remembered something extremely important! "Oh shit! I almost forgot!" He winced as he reached into his pocket. "Happy late four year anniversary!" He finally presented you with his gift.

Your fingers trembled as you took the little rock into your hands. Mark's Martian heart stared back up at you, dusting your palm orange.

"Y-you remembered our anniversary?"

"Of course I remembered! Have I ever forgotten before?" Mark smirked.

"N-no, but..." You couldn't help it, you were crying again god dammit. "Thank you Mark, I love it." You beamed and kissed him so hard he lost his entire train of thought. He sighed and pulled you closer like he had wanted to do hours ago. Fuck. There you go again, playing with his hair like it wasn't going to rile him up. He moaned and reached for your waist, only to be pulled swiftly back to reality by the jarring pain in his abdomen. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Mark." You pulled away quickly.

"It wasn't you, I was getting too carried away." He winced and took a deep breath. "My bad," Watney laughed.

You sat down on the crate beside his bed and settled for playing with his hand. While you took inventory of every new callus, Mark once again saw his future flash right before his eyes. You and him and that little house with the green shutters. He's gonna have the best garden in the neighborhood, you'll have all the time in the world for reading. No potatoes. No disco.

"Y/N... Can you hold me?"

"Oh baby, I would love to but the beds are so small-"

"Ouch, oof, oh! ow!" He scooted closer to the wall to make room for you.

You sighed and shook your head. "Mark, your ribs-"

"Please..." he whispered. Dammit! What are you supposed to do when he gives you the puppy eyes!? Beck is going to kill you...

"I can't ever say no to you, can I?" You laughed and scooted into the bed. "Seriously, you've got me wrapped around your finger."

Mark smiled as you tucked yourself into his side. He wanted to be the little spoon, but he couldn't turn over so his back was against your chest. He'd just have to heal quickly, then he could freely snuggle, (and do other things) without any constraints!

He turned his head so he could admire your lovely, beautiful face. You were already looking back at him, one hand holding your rock close to your chest, the other was draped carefully over his waist. Mark swears he's never seen anything more breathtaking in his life.

He slowly leaned closer- Fuck! His ribs hurt so bad, where the hell is the Vicodin when you need it?

You gently smoothed out the crease between his brows with your thumb and pushed his hair back again. Mark closed his eyes, succumbing to the bliss that came with knowing he would never be alone again. You kissed him again and pulled his blanket over the both of you.

"I love you, Mark."

"I love you too."

He felt your hand slip under his shirt and onto his stomach. You drew soft shapes onto his skin, but stopped when you felt the scar just above the hem of his pants. It was jagged and angry.

He swallowed.

Much to his surprise and relief, you didn't pull your hand away. You just kept tracing the new territory.

He sighed and kissed your temple. His body shuddered in relief. "Th-this isn't a dream, right? You'll still be here when I wake up?" he whispered.

You peeked your head up and smiled "I'm not going anywhere, I'm afraid you're stuck with me." You leaned in and gave him one more kiss. He smiled into it and finally allowed himself to rest his eyes.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, Y/L/N..."

#mark watney #watney #Mark Watney x reader #The Martian x reader #x reader #reader fanfiction #reader insert #the martian #watney x reader #mark watney fanfiction #mark watney / reader #watney/reader

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thethiefandtheairbender · 3 months

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Hiii, I really love your ATLA analyses. I'm genuinely interested, what can you say about this take? I mean, it sounds pretty logical, and I'm really interested to know what objections there might be to that view of EIP?

https://www.tumblr.com/writer-rider-dirty-thirties/744225630324965376?source=share

There's a few main things that meta like this one, I think, miss out on. That said beyond the two paragraphs I'm not really discussing their meta in particular. Everyone's entitled to their opinion, but it does play into why I think EIP gets blown out of proportion while ignoring the more... grounded subtext there? Which is what the rest of the meta response here is about as follows. Please refrain from sending me specific metas in the future - discrediting other people's work is not what I'm about, even I don't necessarily think it's always well argued.

They acknowledge the Doylist perspective... and then completely ignore the actual, textual Doylist perspective they have going on. The writers' intent was to, very evidently, use Ember Island Players to acknowledge their own and fans' reactions to the show (which is why the Great Divide, an episode that the writer of EIP wrote, gets the shaft in the play) by exaggerating and making fun of their own characters and plot points. Grounded in their portrayals yes (Katara does indeed make speeches about hope) but so heavily distorted; just look at how they portray this Katara and Jet, who are completely remorseless about drowning a town ("Oh Jet, you're so bad~").

But the distortion is key. The play pretty glaringly says "Canon Katara would never like Zuko" or vice versa, "because to do so would be a great distortion of her character and characterization." Furthermore, for Katara to only see Aang "like a little brother, and that you don't have feelings for me" is also a distortion, which is why Katara outright states on the balcony, "I didn't say that. An actor said that". It's also worth noting I think that the play itself also erases Aang's romantic feelings for Katara ("I wouldn't want it any other way!"). He doesn't make his feelings plain and be rejected in the play; they just don't exist. So even the play itself isn't saying that there's a love triangle, they're saying that a distorted version of these characters would feature a Katara and Aang that don't have feelings for each other, and a Katara and Zuko that would.

Now, I don't think the play is meant to be that dismissive of fans, either. Like I said - it's meant to poke fun, and the ZK faction had always been quite large and vocal. The crossroads of destiny and its associations with Oma and Shu (which serve the basis for Kataang's love theme) are the bulk of what the ship tends to stand on, 'canon' wise. It makes sense if you're going to do a ship tease with them to do it there, and it's also the last instance you can really make actor Katara 'like' anyone.

It's also a misread to assume Aang would get this angry over jealousy, as well, given that Katara was very obvious with Jet both times, and Aang was very sparingly jealous in Book 1 and only slightly so in Book 2. EIP is one of the rare instances where Aang projects onto other people, a trait more usually seen from his friends.

What makes him upset - and we Know this, because he repeats it outright when they actually Talk about it - is this exchange between actor Katara and Zuko:

EIP!Zuko: I thought you were the Avatar's girl. EIP!Katara: [Laughs] The Avatar? Why he's like a little brother to me. I certainly don't think of him in a romantic way.

That's what makes him potentially upset, which fair enough: it can be upsetting when someone doesn't like you back, especially when Katara previously has given plenty of indications that she does. But he's not mad at her on the balcony. He doesn't take his frustrations over her not seemingly returning his feelings out on her. He's mad because Katara can't, or won't, give him a straight answer.

Aang: You said that I'm just like a brother to you, and that you didn't have feelings for me. Katara: I didn't say that. An actor said that. Aang: But it's true, isn't it? We kissed at the invasion and I thought we were going to be together, but we're not. Katara: Aang, I don't know... Aang: Why don't you know?

AKA "if you don't like me, which I just gave you a perfect out to acknowledge, can you at least confirm it for me?" And she won't even do that.

Katara is usually a very openly emotional person, which is why when it comes to whether she has feelings for him or not (and he has very good reasons to think that she does, given if you remove the Aang's POV we see, Katara is wayy more obvious with her affection than he is), it's accordingly frustrating that she won't just come out and say it. When does someone like Katara hold back? Well... normally when she's concerned about Bigger Things (i.e. not initially pushing with Pakku because Aang learning waterbending is more important to her) or when she's not sure what to do (when Aang rejects her comfort in The Serpent's Pass).

Conversely, his feelings for Katara also makes Aang more likely to stop evading or dodging and to stick his landing. He's the one who tries to confess on two different occasions. He's the one who kisses her first. And he's the one who wants to actually discuss their relationship now. (These are all reasons why I think, if they ever did break up, Aang would actually be the one with the guts to say it out loud, just FYI.)

Alternatively, if we wanna talk about Framing, let's talk about the actual balcony scene, namely Katara's dialogue, and the placement of the moon:

Not only does this balcony scene take place on a balcony like their infamous finale kiss, with parallel framing of Katara walking up behind Aang and seeking him out to talk (if Katara hadn't approached him, it's likely neither would've happened either time) but like

When Yue finds herself in a similar situation with Sokka - a young man she loves, has kissed, but finds herself unable to be with for a variety of reasons - she says almost beat for beat what Katara says here about her feelings and reasonings for wanting more distance. But like both Yue and Katara say, there's more important things going on:

I say this because everyone ignores the aspect of Katara's bond with Aang that is informed by her own trauma and fear of losing people. Aang kisses her because "What if I don't come back?" Katara literally watched him die and brought him back to life. She watched her father mourn her mother and Sokka mourn Yue (The Swamp), which the play likewise gives her an ample reminder of. She watched Jet die too. Katara has faith that Aang will be different ("I knew you'd come" from CoD and "He's gonna come back; he has to" in Sozin's Comet) but that doesn't mean she's not scared. Everyone else going on is complicating her feelings for Aang, and that's perfectly valid -- but like I said, it's a 1 for 1 with Yue.

Which is why she kisses Aang first after the war, on another balcony, because now it is the right time.

This isn't even touching on the in-universe canonical reading of EIP being Fire Nation imperialist propaganda, but that's a meta for another day.

Not to mention: EIP also teases Zukaang through Aang and the Blue Spirit, has them similarly react in distaste, you can equally read Zuko wanting to sit in between them as wanting to sit next to Aang, and Zuko and Aang's dialogue is a lot more ship teased in canon, Anyway.

June: What happened? Your girlfriend run off on you? Zuko: It's not the girl I'm after. It's the bald monk she's travelling with.

Zuko doesn't even correct June for implying a romantic connection, only who he's looking for (love you Avatar "Zuko I want you to dance with me" Aang).

I also personally think that basically any episode that has 'strong' Zuko-Katara subtext actually has far stronger Zuko-Aang subtext, but that's a meta for another day.

I do always think the ZK fandom is a fascinating example of what can happen to a fandom when they only have maybe 5 episodes to work with, nor does ship teasing make something implied canon, otherwise The Dragon Prince (also created by Aaron Ehasz) would have a very different endgame ship (to the point that every Soren/Rayla shipper I've seen also ships ZK, funnily enough, because neither of those are remotely canon).

People have gotta stop taking the bone they're thrown and acting like it's a feast.

#antizutara #atla meta #thanks for asking #pro kataang #atla #analysis series #kataang #otp: penguin sledding

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freebooter4ever · 1 month

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Ok, during lunch i was goofing off by browsing the dat*ng app and came across a profile who 'liked' mine that was some blonde haired pretty boy with this as a tag line: "looking for the sophie to my howl". My heart flew into my throat....was i about to live out some teenage fantasy? I got incredibly excited until i realized with dawning horror that this dude possibly meant movie!sophie...

Full offense to the movie but the artists shaved off all the harsh edges on both sophie and howl to the point of unrecognizability beyond basic plot points. So anyone who is searching for the soft, gentle, pleasant version of sophie in the movie absolutely could not handle the slightly manic cleaning lady who enjoys bullying fire demons from the book. Book sophie is quite literally a bit of an obnoxious witch(with a b). She gets angry and expresses herself by murdering weeds. She enjoys teasing howl mercilessly. She gets panic attacks and wears the curse around her like a blanket to protect herself from anxiety and uncertainty. Book sophie is a fully flawed three dimensional character in the same way that movie sophie is a picturesque daydream meant for someone more in love with the idea of being in love than wanting to actually be in love.

But it also just annoyed me because this dude was unwittingly buying into the exact flaw of movie howl. Movie howl was remade into the idea of what women want: he's perfect, he's courtly and an utter gentleman, he acts like a prince. Movie howl is what book howl pretended to be when he went off on dates.

And the entire point of the book is that it took these disguises coming off (howl's princely fake romance character and sophie's literal old woman curse) for these two idiots to fall in love. Sophie starts out as a shy timid mouse, too scared to even talk to howl - she literally runs away from him when they meet in the market. She's so insecure and unable to be selfish that the curse is a blessing in disguise for her. The minute she becomes an old woman she no longer has anything to lose, all her fucks are gone, she's for once in her life just being herself. And she marches into howl's castle looking for a place to sleep because she thinks an old woman would be safe from howl's heart stealing (womanizing) ways.

And howl, meanwhile, doesn't know anything about this crazy old woman except Calcifer likes her (and calcifer represents howl's true heart so it's essentially his gut instinct), and he sees through the old woman disguise before she sees through his but the point is he's still seeing the real sophie - not the shy timid one (movie sophie).

And sophie sees behind howl’s entire facade! The book emphasizes that howl's towering powerful ‘castle’ is hollow smoke - it’s really a tiny three room cottage. Sophie gets to meet howl's real family and find out his working class plain mouse-brown hair background from an unmagical unglamorous world. Sophie cuts up his fancy suits immediately when howl tries to put on his disguise and ‘steal hearts’ again. That was the entire theme of the book: real love doesn't need disguises and artifice.

THAT was the teenage daydream: struggling with insecurity and posturing and a whole bunch of nonsense to discover honest true love underneath. And the movie was about none of that.

Teenage me never wanted the stupid princely version of howl. Teenage me wanted the messy, vain, spider loving, too soft hearted, cowardly, loyal, andre aggassi, stubborn-assed wizard from the book. I will never never forgive the movie for taking all that and turning it into something some guy who fancies himself a handsome courtly prince can put into his d*ting profile.

Anyway if any wizards are in need of an old cleaning lady to befriend their fire demon let me know. Fire demon not required - i have my own, my blue teardrop of a car named Clacifer. And i have the spiders. And i have the facade of success thats on the brink of crumbling. And i keep heartlessly rejecting everyone who wants to date me. Shit fuck ive turned into howl. Except im also my own manic cleaning lady so maybe ive just hyper independently doomed myself to lonliness \o/

#Jrnlsht #I asked him if he meant book or movie #and he said movie and that he never felt the need to read the book #and i unmatched him immediately #i feel like the best example is when howl gets sick and ends up in bed #in the movie he's in this gorgeous and detailed bedroom ensconsed beautifully amongst pillows like a sleeping prince #in the book howl is both drunk and has the flu and is stumbling up the stairs swearing and miserable and collapses into bed #nobody is the sleeping prince if someone says they are the sleeping prince they must be lying or be so short sighted that they are #Unaware of their own times of being a stumbling mess who just wants to collapse into bed #Book sophie sees the stumbling mess (and laughs at him) but still thinks hes a prince (her prince) anyway #Im still convinced that the moment howl teased sophie back by wearing her magically oversized *mended* fancy suit was the moment #Sophie fell in love #They're idiots your honor #and im afraid a fellow idiot is the only type of person im interested in

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aroacehanzawa · 8 months

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THANK YOU FOR RBING WITH YOUR THOUGHTS especially the last line.

i really do miss when bsd stayed in its own genre, and I KNOW before someone comes at me that sometimes you gotta do a little exploring, a little swaying. but not like this. i just dont enjoy the manga anymore because it's so far from what i fell in love with. and again before someone says oh then why are you reading it and complaining if it makes you so mad😤😤😡 IM NOT EVEN READING IT. I CHECK THE LEAKS AND I GO YEAH THIS IS STILL JUST FYODOR AND DAZAI NOT DYING. also because i care about the characters and i still want to see how the whole thing is resolved cuz guess what im not gonna just stop reading it after i invested 3 years of my life into it.

anyway yeah. as i said. whagever.

ME TOO.

The thing is that bsd has always been something more than just silly detectives vs port mafia shenanigans, but it managed keep this larger world contained in a way that made sense in the story. For example the book, which is practically a deus ex machina device, still had its place and function in the story - francis wanted it to bring back his daughter, and even the usage of the page to frame the agency was logical.

Even the more high tech stuff like the eyes of god surveillance system was well played - not only did we get a funny ace attorney moment of francis interrupting the courtroom and buying the software, it actually became plot relevant in the cannibalism arc to locate fyodor and early doa arc to find mushitarou. (and francis's death fakeout was actually good, because it wasn't overdone yet, plus we got a nice and fun redemption arc for him)

But then we're suddenly getting a bunch of new ability weapons like fukuchi's sword and prison realm one order and idk. what else have we had. Time manipulating cat lady who was practically used as an off-screen human ability weapon for dazai's convenience and then immediately killed off with no name no dialogue no character #feminism.

All this while it seems like asagiri completely forgot about the part where atsushi is somehow a beacon towards the book, but that isn't too surprising because it feels like asagiri has forgotten about the role and personality and agency of the characters in general. The thing that drew me into bsd in the first place was its sincere focus on the human experience, the way that each chapter and mini arc seemed to have something to say about the overarching themes of finding a reason to keep living and a place to belong. Now i feel like the last time we got to see any of this kind of commentary was with tachihara's arc, or briefly with sigma, but it still feels too shallow.

And like you said there's nothing wrong with a little exploring and a little swaying, in fact i think the whole premise of bsd is that it allows for so much exploration, but to me it feels like the potential that bsd held in the beginning is just not being met anymore. Or rather we're just not heading in the direction we could've been going in.

Atsushi and his implied connection to the book like i mentioned earlier. The order of the clock tower that has been teased since agatha's introduction and some sporadic mentions/implications of its existence since then. Dazai and fyodor's unknown first meeting (this is why i also don't like them killing off fyodor just like that because we still don't know anything about him BUT the way we've ended up in this inexhaustible loop of dazai wins fyodor wins dazai wins fyodor wins i also don't see any way out of it unless one or both of them die so. asagiri just look at what you've done)

idek what i'm trying to say here i'm just really frustrated because i've invested so much of my time in following bsd and it's like as a reader i'm not even getting anything out of it.

anywya read orv for good plot and characters and worldbuilding and literally perfect storytelling and respect for the reader

#bsd

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cellythefloshie · 1 year

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;; Last Christmas Dedicated to @antoineroussel for her winter fic exchange 2k23

Summary: Act 1. Home for the holidays, Charlotte isn’t looking forward to her parent’s annual Christmas party. That is until it provides the opportunity to reconnect with her childhood friend, and AHL player, Adam Lowry. Act. 2. Charlotte avoid going home for the holidays to avoid the reminder of last Christmas and the heartache that followed only to cross paths with Adam who is now in his Rookie season with the Winnipeg Jets. Charlotte and Adam are forced to face the reality that their friendship may be something that needs to be left in the past. Kinks & TW: Angst, holiday themed, original character, situation ship, friends-to-lovers, drinking/alcohol, heart break, size kink, teasing/banter, riding, breast play (mild), missionary, protected sex, (i probably missed something here so please be sure to yell at me if I did) ABOUT THE OC: Face Claim: Crystal Reed. Name: Charlotte aka “Charlie” aka “Mini”. Charlotte and Adam are written as childhood best friends. Act 1: Charlie is a University student and Adam is playing with the St. John’s IceCaps who were the WPG Jet’s AHL Affiliate from 2011-2015. Act 2: Adam is playing in the NHL with the WPG Jets. Word Count: 10011 A/N: Thank you so much for reaching out and inviting me to participate in the exchange! It was an absolute pleasure to be able to write this for you! It was so much fun being able to write an OC again after writing reader inserts since April, and I got to indulge in writing both Adam and Angst. It got me right in the soul. I WAS going to fade to black with this piece (almost 5k words ago), but I have 0 self control... AND I hope you don’t mind that it’s holiday themed because I’ve had this plotted since we first talked about it, but I didn’t get it written until much later than I expected...

Listen to their playlist while you read. Last Christmas now has a sequel series! Read more of Adam and Charlotte in Just Me & You.

Act 1.

“-Charlotte, honey!”

It was the sickeningly sweet voice of her mother that greeted Charlie as she had done her best to sneak in through the back door. She had obviously failed. She should have known better, really, there was no way that she was going to be able to get away with going unseen when her parents were entertaining their family and close friends for the annual Christmas Party - not when her mother was always keen on showing her off.

But Charlie had made other plans for the evening. She had intended to avoid the gaudy decore and the seasonal music that was too loud for Charlie to study comfortably. While her mother had tried to encourage her to put the books down, if only for a night, Charlie had managed to sneak out to a local coffee shop under the pretense of studying for the exams that would rapidly approach once she got back to school after the break - and so she hid at that small coffee shop down the road until the hours grew late and the open sign was flipped to closed.

Warm eyes shut as Charlie turned in place, her head leaning against the door as she shut it to hide the sigh from her mother that hovered at the kitchen island with a glass of wine, and her friends as they gossips. She had hoped that it would have quieted down before she got home. Yet, the party raged on as if it were a frat party back on campus. Forcing a smile, she turned to face her mother and her guests, as her hand raised to draw her bright red scarf from around her neck. Dark hair dusted with freshly fallen snow fell in loose curls down her back as it was freed from where it was tangled in the warmth of her outerwear that was cast aside on a near stool.

“Hi mom,” her smile was so forced it almost hurt as she looked at each of her mother’s friends awkwardly, “you ladies look like you’re having fun. I would really hate to ruin it-” She spoke causally as she reached for a festive paper plate, her fingers then finding the assortment of finger food that sat out on the counter, “I’m just going to head upstairs-”

Charlie was drowned out by an assortment of coos. All gawking about how grown up she had become in the few short years she had spent away at college focused on her studies, and how she wasn’t the little girl they all so fondly remembered. It left her grumbling as she pushed her way from the kitchen, keeping her head down as she moved for the stairs. Just a few more strides and she would be free, but her mom had other plans as her familiar touch came down on her shoulders to keep her daughter from wandering too far.

“Ah, Ah, Charlotte,” she tutted her and suddenly Charlotte felt like a child again, “I think there is someone you’re going to be excited to see.”

Charlie had to bite her tongue to hold back a scoff, but there was no hiding how her large doe-eyes rolled as she thought to herself: Oh yeah, I bet there is. And so she followed her mother’s guidance, her expression no short of annoyed as she was forced to walk through crowds of her parent’s friends and over to her father who was entertaining his friends with one of his wild work stories - a story Charlie had already heard many times before, and she was sure everyone else had as well.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar face that was meant to excite her beyond the desire to hide back in her room. It was there, seated in her father’s favourite armchair, his face half hidden behind a glass of amber liquor she spotted him. Full lips split, bearing a far-from-fake grin as she reached down to abandon her plate on the near coffee table. After that, there was no stopping her. Adam’s bright eyes that had contrasted her so effortlessly had found her face and he was standing up from the seat to meet her halfway.

“Dad’s just letting you sit in his chair now, huh, hot shot?” Charlie greeted him playfully, her arms winding around his middle with ease without a thought and it was only as his arms wrapped around her that she realized just how much he had changed since he had left Calgary. Charlie could feel every muscle beneath his white t-shirt and he had easily grown another inch or two since his draft day three years ago. Her fingers moved cautiously over the expanse of his back as she pulled back just enough to look up at him as he returned the stare down at her.

“Your dad and I, we did make that bet,” Adam half smirked, earning a shake of her head as she left out a laugh. It had been the best seat in the house, leather and perfectly worn in and it reclined. It was one that Adam had sought after for years as a child, so as it had approached his draft, Adam had bet that if he had gone in the top 100 players, whenever he had come back to visit he would get to sit in the chair. Adam had been drafted 67th overall that year, but he had never returned to her childhood home, until now.

“I didn’t think he’d hold to it,” Charlie countered, casting a glance toward her father before looking back up at Adam, “what are you doing here, anyway? I haven’t seen you since Minnesota.”

“Surprised Mom and Dad for the holidays,” Adam smiled, his hands continuing to linger on the curves of her waist - his thumbs stroking over it slowly and she watched as there was a flicker of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t remember her body feeling like that - hell, they were practically still kids when he had been drafted to the WHL and had only seen each other briefly during his draft in Minnesota. While their history would always remain, they were far from the kids they once were, not they were practically strangers now. “And they would never cancel on your mom, so I wasn’t about to pass up on seeing my best friend.”

His words made her skin tingle. Did he have the right to call her that still? After so many years of nothing more than sparse text messages and the occasional goofy Snapchat picture? Their different lives had divided them, but maybe now was their chance to really reconnect.

“You’ve been here all night?” Charlie quirked a brow, taking a step back when she noticed her father cock his head to the side as he had begun to raise a brow of his own.

She and Adam had always been close - their mother’s bathed them together, and she called her mom Auntie until she was 10 and knew better kind of close - but Charlie wasn’t a little girl any longer and her father knew that - her father also knew that Adam wasn’t the little boy that used to follow her around like a lost puppy anymore. He was a grown man now-

“Since your mom started making dinner,” Adam sighed, his hand reaching up to card through his shaggy brown hair as he cast a glance out the window and to the snow that fell outside, “they sure know how to throw a hell of a party.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing compared to the trouble you get into now,” Charlie teased, taking careful strides, and Adam fell in step behind as she moved to the makeshift bar.

“Me, get into trouble? Never,” Adam was beaming as he leaned back against the wall.

Charlie shook her head slowly as she mixed herself a drink, her pour a little heavy on the alcohol - but she had to make up for the lost time. Adam was surely multiple drinks deep after spending the evening with her parents, though he hid it well or had developed a very strong tolerance since they had last broken into her father’s liquor cabinet at fourteen.

“That’s only because you’re always able to talk your way out of it,” Charlie reminded, taking the first slow sip of her drink that burned its way down her throat, “or have you been hit so many times that you’ve lost your silver tongue?”

“Nah, I still got it,” Adam assured.

“Good, because I don’t think I can handle listening to All I Want For Christmas is You again,” Charlie half groaned, her hand reaching out to take one of Adam’s carefully.

She didn’t dare look back as she lead him through the living room and to the stairs that would take them up to the second story, and up to her bedroom. Adam didn’t stop her, his steps careful and quiet as he followed up behind her, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he whispered to her, “you really want your father to kill me, huh?”

She could feel his hot breath on her neck as he spoke, and it felt like his laugh was sending vibrations right through her body as they came to her bedroom door. It was just as she had left it when she had moved to campus at seventeen. From her small collection of stuffed animals sitting in her favorite reading chair to the pictures that framed her vanity mirror, her parents hadn’t moved a single thing out of place. Charlie stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, her hand gripping the flimsy plastic cup almost desperately. This wasn’t the first time she had Adam in her room, but they had been just kids back then - the click of the door closing had her stomach jumping into her throat - and they had always had a strict open-door policy thanks to her dad.

“Oh, you’re really wanting dad to kill you now,” Charlie teased him as she turned in place, finding his smile and following his eyes to the pictures on her vanity. They were an assortment of photos from when she was young, and many were with him. There were pictures of when they were babies, to the days they spent at summer camp together, and their most recent photo was framed and sat at the very corner of her vanity. It had been the morning of his draft, their families had gotten breakfast together and he was in the ill-fitted suit of his - prepared for the off chance that he may have been drafted in the first round.

Adam didn’t reply to Charlie’s banter, and instead shot a smile back at her, his tone soft as he spoke to her, “lots of good memories here.”

“Yeah,” she agreed gently, stepping forward to join him at his side, “we used to do everything together-”

“Do you ever miss it?”

“Miss being kids or us?”

Us. The word left an odd taste in Charlie’s mouth, one that she tried to wash out with the strong alcohol in her drink. They had never really been an Us, had they? Sure, they had been inseparable for most of their childhood, Charlie & Adam, but that was their friendship. He had dated girls she had never approved of, and she dated guys Adam would inevitably scare off. Hell, they hadn’t don’t anything to suggest that there was a chance that they would have ever shared anything more than the friendship they had forged. She hadn’t wanted to kiss him… not until now as he stood so close to her in her room, wearing that smile she had almost forgotten and very much a man now.

“I could always count on you being there back then,” Adam sighed and Charlie's mouth went dry, “every tournament, every game. Hell, we almost had your mom convinced to move you out to Swift Current, you remember?”

“How could I forget?” She shook her head as she remembered the nonsense she had tried to feed her mother and the dramatic lengths the pair had gone to before it was made clear that it was far from a reality for them. “Still convinced them to drive me out to see you almost every weekend - but they got you all the way across the country now, don’t they hot shot?”

Reaching her hand out, Charlie shoved against Adam’s arm, a playful habit that returned all too quickly as did the comfort of being around him.

“Oh, you’re already going to start back up with that shit, huh, Mini?” Adam laughed, a large hand reaching out to abandon his glass on the vanity.

Hearing her old nickname slip from his lips so effortlessly left her mouth dry. No one called her that anymore - not since she hit her growth spurt - but Adam, he would forever tower taller than her. Charlie licked her lips slowly before taking another long sip of her drink before she set it down beside Adam’s. Her hands then found his chest, so strong beneath her touch, in a playful shove. One that Adam met with his own, earning a laugh from Charlie as she took one stumbled step back. It wasn’t enough to send her into a retreat. Instead, she had leaned in for another playful shove, but she wasn’t met by Adam’s playful roughhousing. No, Adam wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her up with ease.

When they were kids, she would have left out a laugh, or a groan of protest, but not, Charlie was reduced to silence. Her bedroom went blurry around her, and she could only see Adam and the grin on his face as he took careful strides toward her bed. She could feel each flex of his muscles as he held her so effortlessly, and there was no ignoring how naturally her legs had wrapped around his hips - and how his belt buckle grazed roughly over her jeans. The strength of his arms remained as they reached the bed, as Adam didn’t release her to free fall down onto the mattress, instead, he was falling with her but she was left breathless all the same.

Charlie did her best to hide the heave of her chest as she lay out on the bed, her dark hair fanned out beneath her and her sweater left wrinkled and bunched up her waist bearing just enough skin on her stomach to draw in Adam’s curious touch. She could feel his thumb drag over her exposed skin, his touch hesitant as if he shouldn’t be touching her there at all. Together they lay out on the bed in silence, Adam’s body hovering slightly over her own. Charlie could feel the heat of his body against her own and taste his breath with each inhale. It was an intoxicating combination. One that left her reaching down to her mattress and gripping at the covers in restraint.

“Adam,” his name escaped her lips in a quivering breath, her warm eyes dragging over the softened features of his face. His jaw had slacked, and his thin lips parted as they were consumed by each of his steady breaths. Her gaze dragged over the angles of his jaw and up and over his cheekbones that had only seemed to sharpen as his youth left him. And his eyes were piercing as Charlie found them. His brazen stare was only obstructed by the shagged strands of his hair that hung down over his forehead and the intensity that consumed the blue of his eyes was unlike she had ever seen in him before - or maybe she just hadn’t been looking.

Their gaze was locked, but it didn’t distract her from how his hand had left the skin of her stomach and dragged upward. Up and over the swell of her breast - that threatened to heave at just the slightest graze of his fingers tips. Those same fingertips danced over her collarbone - her neck stretching out almost instinctively, a heavy breath consuming Charlie as if to prepare for his fist to wrap around her throat - but his touch persisted. His touch didn’t stop until it had stroked over the angle of her jaw, and his thumb had found her quivering lower lip.

“I’ve missed you, Charlie,” Adam sounded, his words a low groan as his thumb stroked her lip, leaving it almost numb, “fuck, you’re so…” Charlie watched as he licked his lips, trying to find the right word to say - and she didn’t care what he had to say. Not really - how could she when all she could think about was what his tongue would taste in her mouth? “...Beautiful.”

The word stung, just like the slap sixteen-year-old Charlie would have given him if she had even thought he was thinking something like that. But now, Charlie was very much consumed by his touch and his words held left her melting.

“Adam, you shut your mouth before you say something stupid…” Charlie cautioned him slowly, his own voice weak as her lips dragged over the pad of his thumb. The graze left her shutter, her eyes shutting as she tried to force herself to ignore just how good it felt to feel his flesh in places he had never explored before.

“Stupid? No,” Adam answered, and Charlie felt the bed shift oh so slightly. He was leaning in, his hot breath washing over her face now as his thumb tugged at the lower lobe of her lip, “I should have been telling you that a long time ago-”

Charlie scoffed, her eyes remaining closed as she parted her lips to speak again - too nervous to open them and see just how close to her he had become. If she had seen him so close, she wouldn’t be able to control herself. “Adam, how many drinks have you had?”

“You think I’m drunk?” his voice was laced with a laugh, one that left her own lips curling up into a grin.

“Can you blame me?” It was only then that Charlie let her eyes blink open and she took in the sight of him.

Adam was a mere breath away from her lips, his hair tickling her forehead as his eyes fell into slow, dreamy blinks. “Charlotte,” she hated when people called her by her full name, but in the moment, he had made it feel so intimate, “I really want to kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?” Charlie muttered, her lungs holding onto her breath as if he was going to steal it from her.

“I’m only slightly worried that you may hit me if I tried,” his smile grew, and her own came to mirror his.

“I’m not going to hit you, Ad-”

Before she could finish, he had stolen the last bit of air between them, his thumb leaving her lips to clear the way for his own lips. His mouth met hers gently, cautiously, as if she may change her mind at any moment and raise a hand up to give him a good smack. Once upon a time, she would have. She would have pulled back with a gasp and her palm would have met his cheek with a sting because he was her best friend and she wasn’t going to risk that at sixteen. But now, her head was spinning, her body consumed by the mix of emotions that came with seeing him for the first time in three years. Excitement met longing and mixed with melancholy and it left her head spinning as his lips moved effortlessly against her own. Each motion drew her mouth open, adding depth and hunger to the first kiss they had shared.

She reveled in the taste of sweet bourbon from his tongue as it met her own in a slow graze and it had brought such comfort that her hands eased from their rigid grasp on the covers. Her touch found the expanse of his back, her fingers wrinkling the thin-white fabric of his t-shirt as she left herself to feel his strength. It drew him in closer, Adam shifting in the slightest to hover fully over her form - never once breaking their kiss - and she could feel all of him. Her head was spinning, her thoughts gone as she was consumed by Adam and only Adam.

Charlie was left groaning against his lips, her hands clutching him desperately, and her knees resting on each side of his hips as she lost all composure. She was pushing up from the bed, Adam giving her just enough room to seek out the hem of her knit sweater and he helped her draw it from her frame. It was then their lips were pulled from one another, both of them left gasping and eyes opening to meet in a desirous gaze. Adam stared at her, and Charlie stared back the only sound shared between them, desperate, panting gasps. If they continued, there would be no going back to how things were before, and they both knew it. But it didn’t stop them.

Adam’s hands dropped her cable-knit sweater down on the bed, his eyes never once leaving hers before he reached back and took hold of the thin fabric of his t-shirt. He pulled it off in one swift movement, bearing the muscles of his toned chest and strong abs to her as he knelt between her thighs.

Charlie let out an uneven sigh. She had seen him shirtless before, probably more times than she could count, but he had never looked like that. “Jesus, Adam,” she couldn’t contain herself, her hand reaching out to stroke down his chest without a single thought to how he was seeing her breasts in something other than a restrictive sports bra for the first time since puberty had finally decided to be kind. “What are they feeding you out there?”

Adam let out a low throaty chuckle as he arched over, placing his hand palm down on the mattress trapping Charlie beneath him against the bed. She watched as muscle she didn’t even know could exist flexed in his shoulder. Licking her lips, Charlie was near salivating at the sight of him as she pushed up onto her elbows to close the short distance between them and prevent Adam from having too much time to admire her soft, feminine body. His athleticism had never intimidated her until now. It was not his talent or his status, but his body that made her so instantaneously insecure. And she was sure he could feel it in the desperation of her kiss against his mouth and the angles of his jawline.

Charlie could feel the vibrations of his groan against his own lips as Adam lowered himself down against her. He wasn’t heavy against her, but Charlie marveled at just how much of him she could feel. His chest was warm against the exposed skin of her breast, his friction sending the cups of her bra chaffing and making her nipples hard. Then there were his hips, which pressed down into her. It sent the cold metal of his belt buckle dragging over her skin and the pressure, paired with the strength of his thick, muscular thighs had her spreading her legs for him further.

Her heels dug down into the plush mattress, her hips raising with the hope of grinding up against him only to meet the flesh of his abs. Charlie groaned against his lips, almost frustrated. Why did Adam have to be so damn tall? Usually, Adam towering almost an entire foot taller than her was an asset, but not when she was trying to be sexy.

Leaning her head back she let it lull to the side, Adam’s hot lips dragging over the soft skin of her neck, and she used that leverage to reach her hand down between their bodies and didn’t stop until her careful touch grazed over the growing bulge of his cock as it tested the restraint of his jeans. Fingers traced up and down the thick outline, earning a low, quivering breath from parted lips. A breath that was laced with a subtle holy fuck that she did her best to play off as a moan. Adam was huge, in every way she could possibly imagine. From his height to his cock - Charlie swallowed hard - she was all the more intimate to take him now.

“First time?” Adam muttered out against her skin, his tone only half teasing.

“Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” Charlie gawked up at him, her eyes going as large as a doe in the headlights as she mocked him, “Oh Adam, I’ve been waiting so long for you to take me with your giant cock. I’ve wanted you and only you for so long,” she let out two desperate heaves before she was muffling her laughter into the strength of his bicep.

“Fuck off,” Adam laughed, his hands taking each side of her hips firmly before flipping over in the bed. He guided him on top of him effortlessly, her knees falling on each side of his hips so that she could feel him against her cunt the only thing between them was the thin layers of their clothes.

Perched up on top of him, her cheeks flushed with color, her hands coming to brace against his chest as she began to roll her hips slowly. The friction left her biting her lip, her arousal already beginning to pool between her legs as she could feel his cock growing harder - and it even left Adam groaning with impatience.

He was propped up against her pillow, his bright eyes fluttering as he reached a single hand out to stroke over her warm cheek. He stroked the heated flesh, his fingers reaching out to hold her dark tendrils away from her soft features as he spoke to her. “I may not be your first, Charlie,” his tone was low, sultry and it left her mouth dry and panties wet, “but have you taken a cock this big?”

She let her hips roll slowly dragging her cunt from what felt like his balls to tip, and she shuttered as her head shook slowly from side to side. And she watched as his smile grew, the touch of his thumb stroking against her cheek a little more tender now.

“We can go slow,” he assured, his hips raising as his hand dropped.

She couldn’t hold back the soft whimper that took her as the pressure of his cock tested the friction of her jeans as he sunk his hand into his pocket. He fished out his wallet, drawing out the fine leather before pulling out the foil that had been tucked away among a wad of cash in various, colorful, dollar amounts.

“That’s not the same one that you stole from your dad’s bedside table in high school, is it?” She teased him gently, her smile splaying over her lips as she crawled off of him and to the bed at his side.

“No, no,” Adam laughed before he put the foil in his mouth and held it there as she reached down to take care of his jeans and belt. It was as he pushed them down he muttered, “that one didn’t fit.”

“Oh fuck off, they stretch,” Charlie scoffed, her handing beginning to work on her own pants.

Spitting the condom out on the bed, Adam smirked and pressed up onto his knees. “Okay, okay, correction,” he raised his hands up as if in surrender, “it didn’t fit comfortably.”

“That’s what I thought,” she chided as she pushed her pants down to her knees, only for Adam’s own hands to meet the fabric and pull them down the rest of the way.

Charlie could feel every lazy drag of his fingers against her skin, his touch like the strike of a match leaving a blazing trail on her skin in its wake. It should have left her pulling away, but it only made Charlie want more. His touch silenced her teasing, his fingers dragging back up the smooth skin of her legs as she was rid of her jeans and was left in nothing but her underwear. If it had been anyone else Charlie would have been flooded with confidence, but with Adam, it might as well have been her first time. He knew her better than anyone, every story, every scar, every secret. But it was only being near-naked in front of him that she felt truly vulnerable.

His hands kept gliding up. Up over the ticklish curves of her knees. Up over imperfect, tiger-striped thighs. And to the thin, flimsy fabric of her panties that left an imprint of the seams against her hips. Adam looks up at her through his shaggy hair as two thick fingers hooked her panties around her hips - and she couldn’t breathe. Not while he was looking at her like that, silently asking her permission to keep going with the most curious and caring of glances. Her lips parted, but she found no words. Charlie could only nod.

Adam bit down on his lip as he eased her panties away from her lips. Charlie watched as his jaw went slack, his gaze dropping to the sweet heat between her legs as it was exposed to him. “Oh, Charlie,” Adam let out a satisfied hum at the sight of how her arousal, and how it had soaked into her panties, “you’re so wet.” His words were almost as if he were in awe, but then his smile grew and his tone became teasing, “Did I do that?”

His teasing cut right through her nerves and brought a smile to her lips that lit up her features and brought her the confidence she so desperately needed.

“You might have had something to do with it,” her head cocked to the side sending her dark curtain of curls over her shoulders and over her breasts as she reached back to free the, from the confines of her bra.

Adam’s eyes went as wide at the sight of her soft, womanly body fully exposed to him. His smile didn’t fade, no, it grew wider as his teeth took hold of his lower lip almost shyly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Charlie muttered. Her words were a mere whisper as her arms crossed over her chest awkwardly in an attempt to cover her exposed breasts.

Adam almost stuttered on his words, his cheeks flushing as he reached a hand out to gesture to her body, “you look, incredible Charlie. Absolutely, just, wow-”

“You're just saying that-”

“No, really,” Adam sighed, his hand reaching down and pushing down his boxers and abandoning them at the foot of the bed. She crawled up her childhood bed until he was seated against the pillow - his stiff cock laying out over the tone plains of his stomach threatening to draw all of her attention. It was there, propped up in the comfort of her bed, that he ripped open the foil and worked the thin latex over his cock with the strength of his well-worked hands. “Come ‘ere, Charlie.”

Silently, she obliged and crawled up the length of the bed and into his lap. Each of her knees found its place at each of his hips and her sweet, dripping cunt came to rest over his cock. Her stomach fluttered with the nerves of anticipation, her hips rolling oh so slightly so that she could feel the thick vein of his cock stroke against her clit. The pleasure burned through her body and coaxed a soft sound from Adam’s lips. One that lingered in his words as he spoke to her, “you’re fucking perfect.”

His hand reached out, stroking her dark hair back from her face, and back so that it cascaded down the length of her back. His hands then dragged down, Stroking at her eager neck and the angles of her shoulder and stopping at the impressive swells of her breast. Adam palmed at her supple flesh with his coarse hands, her chest consumed by desperate, heaving breaths at his touch - and he muttered out his sweet words, “so perfect…” Then, Adam was leaning in, his hair hanging down into his eyes as his mouth descended down. He placed slow, open-mouthed kisses over each breast. Kisses that warmed them with the heat of his mouth and were instantly cooled by the room’s tepid air.

“Adam,” Charlie gasped out, her fingers finding his hair gripping just enough to ground herself but not enough to stop his movements as he sucked on one nipple, and the next, before his tongue dragged up from the valley between them to the sweet angles of her jaw.

Adam raised a brow at her as he placed peppered kisses along her jaw, trialing his way to the corner of her mouth as he let out an inquisitive hum, “do you think you’re ready for me, Charlie?”

Nodding desperately, Charlie pressed up on her knees and gave Adam the room he needed to reach between them. She could feel his hot hand against the inside of her thigh as he took hold of his own cock, stroking it slowly as he drew it up to guide the very tip to her core - but it wasn’t without teasing her first. He dragged the tip of his cock up and down the fold of her cunt slowly, sending her arousal dripping down the latex and over his hand before he positioned himself at her core.

“You don’t have to take it all,” he assured her gently, “it can be… a lot. So go slow, and we can stop if you need to. Okay, Charlie?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, her hand reaching out to brace herself against the strength of his shoulders, “yeah, okay.” She took two long blinks, trying to ease the spinning in her mind at the feeling of his cock between her legs. It all seemed like a dream, like the ones she would have as a teenager and would do all in her willpower to repress - because you weren’t supposed to think about your best friend like that. But it was the burning pleasure of slowly taking his cock into her eager cunt that reminded her that this was very much of a reality.

Charlie took him slowly, inch by inch he spread her walls, and it left her cursing out under her breath in pleasure. “You’re taking me so well, Charlie,” came Adam’s encouraging coo, his hands having abandoned his own cock and found her hips to help carefully guide her as she rode his cock. With each rise and fall of her cunt around his cock, her head spun and she questioned just how much more of him there could possibly be.

“Jesus Christ, Adam,” she near yelped, her head thrown back before she could bite down on her lip and stop herself.

Adam hushed her gently, a single hand raising to stroke over her cheek. Charlie leaned into his touch as she panted, her lips parting and taking his thumb in her mouth without a thought in her head. She sucked on it slowly, earning a soft moan from Adam’s lips and it muffled her own as she eased down on him further and found the relief of his balls smacking against her ass. She had managed to take all of him. Smiling around his thumb, Charlie cast a glance down at Adam who was watching her with a dreamy gaze.

“We’re going to have to find a way to keep you quiet, Charlie,” he beamed up at her and dragged his thumb from her lips and over her smooth cheek slowly. He cupped her face in her hand, his fingers knotted in her hair. “Because if your dad wasn’t going to kill me before, he sure as hell would want to kill me now-”

“Don’t talk about my dad when you’re balls deep in my cunt, please,” Charlie begged, her skin ablaze and shimmering as she began to sweat.

“Sorry, mood killer?”

“Just a bit,” Charlie gasped out as the tip of his cock pressed into her limits. She was so impossibly full of him, and it near had her legs trembling.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Adam spoke, his words almost charming as his hand gripped at her hip firmly, “just don’t make a sound.”

His smile was wicked as he held her gaze and drew her in close to his body. With their bodies chest to chest, his cock buried to its absolute limit and her face tucked into his neck to muffle any sound that would threaten to spill from Charlie’s lips, Adam flipped them.

The plush mattress was welcome on Charlie’s back as she let out a soft yelp against the flesh of Adam’s throat. “Sorry,” she muttered softly, her smile blossoming and her lips dragging over his neck with every word, “I can’t help it - you feel so good.”

Adam propped himself up with his elbows on each side of her head, his lips coming down to kiss her forehead with a slow lingering kiss - as he couldn’t quite reach her lips while he remained deep inside her cunt. His hot breath washed over her face with every exhale as he began to roll his hips, drawing his cock from her just enough to slide back inside her in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sent a burning pleasure through to her core, and a soft sound from parted lips. It was a moan that only threatened to grow louder as the pleasure grew. And when Charlie wound her short legs around Adam’s hips, she muffled her cries of pleasure in the strength of his shoulder and clung to him like he was her only source of gravity.

Her eyes watered as she held onto him so desperately, her teeth grazing over his skin and the taste of him lingered on her tongue as she muffled her moans into his shoulder - and when he reached a hand back to grip at her thick thigh, holding it in place as he hit such a depth that sent his own eyes fluttering back with pleasure, her head lulled to the side and she forced to burry he gave into the flex of his bicep.

“Adam,” his name was a hymn on her tongue, her body shuddering as her climax threatened to overtake her - as he could feel its threat as her cunt began to pulse around him.

His hand only left her leg to take hold of her chin, guiding her soft features took look up at his as they too melted with pleasure. His thumb stroked over her lips slowly, tugging at her lower lobe and drawing her sweet lips open to welcome his mouth. Charlie was consumed by Adam’s kiss - one that was unlike the one that had started it all. There was no caution, no that had all been abandoned now. His kiss was one with purpose. One that stole her desperate breath from her breast and flooded her with emotion. It struck her like a slap to the face, leaving her gasping against his lips and her head spinning.

Not once had she ever been kissed the way Adam had kissed her, and it left her trembling as her core clenched around him. The grip of her was enough to draw him to his release. He lost all control, every thought of gentle caution seemingly lost as Adam pounded into her with a series of forceful thrusts. Then, with his cock buried deep inside her and sweat dripping down the angles of his face and body, Adam stilled.

Faces mere inches apart, only panting could be heard. Eyes brown and blue were caught between open and fluttering shut as their bodies only began to calm. While Charlie crazed to continue to be close to Adam, the wrap of her legs around his waist loosened, her feet sliding down to the bed with a quiet thud. And she reached up both hands slowly to stroke his sweat-drenched strands from his face. Charlie watched as his eyes fluttered and his lips parted as he let out every heavy exhale that was laced with the whisper of her name on his tongue. And she relished in it, her own name echoing in her euphoria dazed mine until Adam’s words drew her back into reality.

“What time is it?” his words were a soft whisper as he remained hovering over her and his cock still buried deep in her cunt.

Charlie’s head lulled to the side, taking in the glow of her old digital clock. “Late,” she answered him simply, “people would have started to go home already… Your parents, were they staying the night in the guest room?” Her words were slow, hesitant even as she silently recollected the many times he had spent the night in her room when they were children. When they were too young for their parents to care, they had shared the bed, or even a tent out in the backyard in the summertime - but as they had grown older, her father more concerned about a teenager's urges, Adam had slept on the floor beside her bed. She remembered waking up with her hand reaching down over the edge of the bed to his hand even more fondly now.

“No,” Adam hung his head, “we were going to cab home, my flight leaves early in the morning.”

Her heart fell, and her stomach twisted into knots. Of course, he would have to leave. They would need him back before their next game, and they kept a tight schedule - she was lucky to have gotten to see him at all. There was no easing how sick knowing she was going to have to say goodbye to him before the night was through made her. Not even the thrill of seeing him again, nor the euphoria of her climax could put it at ease.

Charlie forced a smile, trying so desperately to hide the dread that consumed her. “We should probably get dressed before someone comes looking for you.”

“Your dad would really kill me then, huh?” Adam half laughed as he pushed up with whatever strength he had left as eased his cock from her core.

She near whined as she was left void of him, her legs coming together firmly as she shifted to the edge of her bed. She bit down on her lip as she fought to find her composure, and when she spoke her tone with low but she carried her smile into her voice, “Your teammates would really miss you if you died over something so menial-”

“Ouch,” Adam hissed, his hand coming up to rest over his heart as if he had been stabbed through it, “menial? That’s how bad it was?”

“Adam I-” Charlie found herself stumbling over her words as she pulled a loose t-shirt down over her naked body - the Swift Current Broncos logo resting right over her chest, “you know that’s not what I meant…”

“I know,” Adam grinned his tone teasing as he discarded the used condom into the waste basket by her bed and moved to step into his boxers, “I’m just teasing you Charlie - and like, I mean,” he rambled as he tried to choose his words carefully, “you enjoyed yourself?”

“Well,” Charlie’s tone was teasing as she found his t-shirt, took it in her hand, and held it out to Adam casually, “you were right about being the biggest-”

“Oh, you’re just cruel, Charlie!” Adam laughed out so loud that she was sure that someone would have heard it downstairs. He continued to laugh as he stepped forward, his one hand pushing his shirt away while the other reached out for her. Soon, Adam had her in his arms again and hoisted her up so that he was holding her near and her legs could wrap around his middle. “Lie to me at least,” he playfully begged her as his hands kneaded at the soft flesh of her thighs, “tell me it’s all you’ve ever dreamed.”

Charlie shook her head slowly, her forehead coming down to rest against his carefully as she deadpanned, “worst I’ve ever had.” And then she snickered, her lips curling up into a smile to match Adams.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved that you’re the worst liar I know,” Adam sighed in relief, “because I don’t think I have the time to prove to you just how good I can be…”

“Another time, hot shot,” Charlie hummed, leaning back just enough to peer around him and to the door when she heard footsteps pass in the hall, “I think we’ve pushed our luck long enough.”

Adam lowered her to the ground before his hands abandoned her body for the soft fabric of his t-shirt - but the ghost of his touch remained on his skin and between her legs even. It was a feeling that Charlie was sure would be difficult to forget - even if it all came to feel like nothing more like a dream in the morning.

The pair dressed in silence, nothing shared between them except lingering glances and soft smiles as more and more skin was covered. It was only in that silence that Charlie could hear that the Christmas carols that had consumed the home had gone quiet and there was nothing more to be heard from downstairs than their father’s laughter.

“You should go down first,” Charlie decided as she reached for her robe and leaned back against the pale floral wallpaper that decorated her wall, “dad will ask too many questions if I come down already changed into my pajamas…”

“Yeah, right, good idea,” Adam stuttered, his hand carding through his own hair, “so I guess, this is where I should give you a proper goodbye, huh? Because I don’t think you’re dad would like me kissing you at the front door…”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Charlie nodded slowly and swallowed hard - though, she would be much more worried about what their mothers would do if they had found out. She was already sure that they had been planning their wedding since they were five. “Don’t be a stranger Adam…”

“Just pick up the phone when I call Charlie,” Adam hummed, his tone almost dreamy as his hand came up to cup her cheek. Then he leaned in, placing a soft, warm kiss on her lips - one that would linger long after he left.

“I’ll pick up, promise.”

“That’s my girl,” Adam praised, but when he pulled back he was wearing a solemn look.

He hated goodbyes.

And so did she.

“Merry Christmas, Charlie,” was Adam’s final goodbye in the privacy of her bedroom, his thumb dragging over the skin of her cheek and neck before she was left completely void of his touch, “you were by far the best gift I got to unwrap this year.”

Her cheeks flushed red hot with color as she stepped back from the door. She hid just out of sight of anyone waiting just on the other side of the door. “Merry Christmas, Adam,” she spoke, her head leaning against the wall. It was from there that she watched him open up the door - his features falling into relief when he found that their parents were still very much entertained with each other’s company downstairs. He glanced back with a grin, one that silently screamed: SUCCESS, before he reached back and shut the door back into its place in the frame. Charlie didn’t move an inch, not even as she heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs just on the other side of the wall. There was nothing comforting about the sound of him leaving. Not when she so desperately wanted him to stay. Saying goodbye was something that had never been easy for them, not even as children - one of them had always cried. And now, they had made things a whole lot harder by blurring the lines between friendship and something more.

Act 2.

The warmth of the ski lodge was a welcome after a day spent out on the slopes. Charlotte’s body ached in all the worst places, but no one would have been able to guess it. Not with how she carried herself so well in a pair of heels and her short, yet elegant slip dress that hugged her body in all the right places. Her hair was left down in long, cascading curls, and her makeup was just enough to hide the sunburn. Charlotte and her best friend had escaped to the mountains for the holidays, the chalet was brought to life for the last big party of the year and she had let herself be consumed by it. By the music, and by the drink, hell, even the unwanted attention from guys, she thrived on it for it was all that could keep her mind from wandering to last Christmas.

Last Christmas, seemed both like a century ago but also only yesterday in Charlotte’s mind. She could still so clearly remember the excitement of seeing Adam for the first time, and the sting of heartache as the days of the new year passed. They had tried to keep in touch, they really had - but with the time zones, and their busy schedules, it had led to an inevitable silence. She had to focus on her courses, and Adam got called up to the NHL, becoming the hot shot she had always told him he would be. Charlotte knew she should have known better. That she should have been prepared for ever the outcome, but it didn’t take away the ache in her chest that came with giving herself fully to Adam.

Charlotte didn’t blame him, how could she? They both knew the risks, but that didn’t mean she wanted to risk seeing him again by going home for the holiday. It was too soon, it would only rip open the wound in her heart time was still trying so desperately to turn into a scar. A wound that was ripped open the moment she looked up from her drink and towards the bar when she heard the nickname she had tried to abandon echo in her mind like the beckoning of a ghost in the crowded room.

“Charlie, I thought that was you!” Adam was pushing through the crowd that had formed around the table, dressed casually in a nice pair of blue jeans and a half-tucked button-down. He looked just as he had a year ago, the same face that had been burned into the back of her mind at the peak of her pleasure, save for the scruff that peppered his chin and jawline. Charlotte might have even thought it looked good on him if it hadn’t felt like someone had poured the salt from her margarita into an open wound - if she hadn’t felt like she was on the verge of throwing up.

“Charlie?” one of her friends piped up, their brows furrowed.

“A childhood nickname,” Charlotte rolled her eyes as her lips couldn’t find her drink fast enough. Her glass was near empty by the time Adam had reached the table, her face putting on a fake smile as she looked at her friend with eyes that looked as if they had been encased in candied sugar as they were consumed by the threat of tears. “This is Adam, we grew up together.”

Her friend didn’t need to hear much more than that. From the excitement of seeing him again to the pain of getting just sort of ghosted, she knew it all and it drew her face into a knot that she struggled to hide. “Oh, yeah, the hockey star,” her friend's words were like sweet venom that would kill you before you knew the poison you were drinking.

“What are you doing here?” Charlotte’s voice almost broke as she shifted in her seat, her fist grasping at her empty glass desperately, “I thought you would spend the holiday back in Winnipeg with that tough schedule they keep you on-”

It was a casual jab at one of the many excuses he had used to explain his silence. Sorry I couldn’t text you I had a game… I had practice… I won’t be coming home for the summer, I’ve got training… They had all been just words on a screen then, his career too much for even a conversation with her then, but somehow, he had the time to celebrate the new year in Banff. It made her stomach sick.

“Caught a trip out with some of the guys,” he nodded back towards the bar where a group of guys had gathered, some missing teeth, others bruised and banged up from their last games before their few days off, “we fly back out tomorrow, you should come to meet them-”

Her heart was pounding like drums in her ears, her mouth falling open as she let out a steady, frustrated huff. How could he be acting so casually, so calmly? As if nothing had ever happened between them at all. Did he ever care about her at all? The thought hit her like an avalanche, sending a single glistening tear down her cheek as she abandoned her glass and pushed it up from the table.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could manage, her voice broken as she let her eyes drop to the floor and she began to push her way through the crowded room.

Charlotte didn’t look back when she heard Adam call after her, and persisted through the crowd as she hoped that she would lose her in it. She was small enough, she could slip out of just about any room unnoticed, but Adam he towered over almost everyone in any room. He could use that to his advantage - so Charlie didn’t stop until she was in the foyer of the chalet, where the music was almost reduced to silence and the view of the mountains in the distance could be seen out its grandiose windows.

She let the way the silver mood beamed down onto the slopes calm her. The sight brought a semblance of peace as the ache in her heart raged on. A peace that was lost when the echo of heavy footsteps took the foyer, and Adam’s voice pierced the air, his annoyance clear, “Dammit Charlie, what was all of that about?”

Charlotte doesn’t look at him, she doesn’t even want to listen to him as she’s standing in front of the window - the winter’s chill sending goosebumps as it permeated the window’s failing seal - with her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze locked on the mountain tops. She could feel the burn of tears as they trailed down her cheeks, tears that she tried to hide from him as he approached.

Adam came to sand on her left, his towering frame leaning against the cold glass of the window. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, his figure only slightly distorted by the tears that built up along her lashes and smudged her mascara.

“You should go back to the party, Adam,” she had tried to tell him firmly, but her words broke as soon as she said his name.

He didn’t make an effort to leave, it was going to take a lot more to get rid of him than that and it left Charlotte’s stomach in knots - and it was left near lurching as she felt the warmth of his hand encroach on the expanse of her back in a careful touch.

“Adam, don’t-” she wanted to bite out, but her words were a pathetic mewl instead as her head spiraled. Oh, how good it felt to be reminded of how it felt to be touched by him.

His touch lingered, his fingers slipping around her waist just enough to carefully turn her to face him. She was sure he could see it all now. The tears. Her tired frown. The pain that was coming to love him and knowing that she would never be loved by him the way she needed from him. It could all be seen in the sad glimmer of her eyes.

“Oh, Charlie,” Adam sighed, his face falling, softening at the pain that was painted across her beautiful features.

“Don’t patronize me-”

Her words were cut short as the embrace of his hand came to warm her cheek, leaving her lips parted as she let out an unsteady breath. His touch was careful, and tender, as it wiped away the tears that strained her cheek. And she wanted so desperately to lean into that touch. To embrace its comfort and let it consume her as she had let it last Christmas.

“Adam, don’t,” her whisper was breathy, her head turning and eyes shutting as she felt the gentle guidance of his hand as Adam tried to draw him into her.

Charlotte desperately wanted to give in - it would feel so good to give in to him. To let him make it feel like everything was going to be alright. That their relationship would always be more than that of childhood friends, but it would be a comfort built on falsehoods. She wasn’t going to let herself get built back up only to be left in shambles again.

Raising a hand, Charlotte took hold of his carefully, guiding it to her lips and placing a kiss on his palm slowly. Her eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled the subtle scent of his cologne, and left the warmth of his skin lingering for but a moment during her tender gesture. Then, she guided his hand back to his side, and her warm eyes met his gaze. Adam held a sadness in his eyes, one that told her that she didn’t need to speak a single word to him to explain anything. He knew the sadness she felt - and maybe he felt it too.

“It’s been really nice seeing you Adam,” Charlotte's words were broken as she spoke, a genuine smile taking her lips for the first time, “but I can’t be doing this, not again…” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before her fingers slip from his like silk.

Adam gave her a slow nod, the hand that had overtaken her back with the warm comfort of his touch leaving her void. Her chest ached as they held their gaze, the space between them growing as she took a careful step back. The air between them was suffocating, and it left Charlotte’s heart feeling tight in her chest.

It felt like a goodbye. A farewell to her childhood, to their friendship, and to any hope that either of them had that they would be able to sustain any kind of relationship into their adulthood. But life had taken them in separate directions. Adam with his career in Winnipeg - or anywhere else he could end up if he were to ever be traded away - and with Charlotte remaining close to her family and putting down her own roots in Calgary, there would always be too much of a divide. Too many obstacles to truly make something worse when they were both still so young and had so much more of their lives that were unknown just waiting to be uncovered.

And so she left him standing in the foyer and made the walk back into the party alone. The ghost of his touch lingered as the music consumed her, her eyes growing bright as they fell on her friends that welcomed her back with smiles of their own. Smiles that almost eased the pain in her aching heart. It was a pain that told her that her love for Adam would never fade, and would go unforgotten. But with that pain, she could finally move on.

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