#benderxreader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.2k

Synopsis: A good girl has gone bad for Bender. BenderxFem!Reader smut, in the library, as the only two in detention.

CW: No plot, only smut; semi-public sex (p in v with condom); virgin!reader; fingering (f receiving); some breast play; pet names: honey, good girl, baby, sweetheart, sweets; mild degredation (verbal); weed mention

You probably would have categorized yourself as a ‘good girl’ before that fateful Saturday of March 24th, albeit one who slipped up just enough to land yourself in that Saturday Detention in the first place. You had made it through most of your high school career without feigning illness to stay home or cutting class, but oh no, the one time you decided to skip was the time you would get caught. It felt like the universe was conspiring against you when Vernon caught you and your two friends sneaking back onto campus through one of the back doors in the East Wing. It was like he knew you had all gone out and was just waiting for you to come crawling back. You immediately lamented to yourself that you should have never let your friends convince you to play hooky, that your life would be over and you’d be suspended for sure. You consider yourself lucky to have only earned Saturday school and had arrived that morning ready to pay your penance and return to your title of ‘good girl.’ That is, until you met John Bender. Since then, you tried everything in your power to toe the line to get as many Saturday Detention slips as possible, knowing he’d be there.

There was just something about him that drew you in, like a spell had been cast over you or something. You knew you should have been disgusted and horrified by the things he said to Claire, but your instinctive side made you feel prickly and hot instead as he questioned her, “Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, your shoes off, hoping to God your parents don’t walk in?” Your brain took it as more of a suggestion and you immediately imagined Bender doing just that to you, while you’d card your hands through his long, soft brown hair. You were sure your breath audibly hitched but he didn’t seem to notice, his predatory stare locked on Claire as she swallowed hard and answered, “Do you want me to puke?” Of course, she hid her desire better than you did. Or at least, outwardly protested. But that didn’t stop her from getting to Bender by the end of the day and you had never felt the fiery jealousy that broiled in the pit of your stomach until you saw her kiss him and hand him one of her earrings.

There was just something about him, the way he spoke terrible, filthy things, yet it was coupled with a sweet vulnerable side that you couldn’t resist. You kept your distance at first, flippantly dismissing it as a whirlwind crush…at least for that week or so that he was ‘dating’ Claire. It didn’t take long before that fizzled out, though, and your pangs for Bender came back full-force. It was easy to make it seem like a coincidence those first few Saturdays, “Oh, God, I can’t believe Vernon found me cutting class again,” you’d lie. But John was always one step ahead in reading people and figured you out soon enough.

“You again?” He smirked, walking into the library on one warm April Saturday.

“What can I say? I’m spiraling out of control.” You grinned in response, delighted by his attention…and the fact that it seemed to be just you two this time.

“Mhmm. What are you in for this time?” He questioned, making himself comfortable in his seat next to you at his table. You knew where he always sat and maybe just happened to choose the chair next to his, incidentally, of course.

“Smoking.” You say quickly, quietly. Which spoke volumes to your desire to come here, to see him and spend another weekend with him.

“I’ll say.” He eyed you up and down, making your cheeks turn red before you were interrupted by Vernon coming to berate the two of you. Of course, this was one of John’s pre-assigned detentions from when you first met him. Which retort had earned him this one? ‘Oh, I’m crushed’ or maybe ‘Not even close, bud!’, you wondered while biting back a smile at the memory. You loved the way he stood up to Vernon. It had concerned you a bit at the time, as both escalated and became louder, but it also thrilled you to see him question Vernon’s overinflated sense of authority.

“This should not be your role model, Y/N,” Vernon started to come to a close, indicating John, “If you don’t clean up your act, you’ll just be a female Bender.” 

You scoffed in response, “Promise?” You raised a challenging eyebrow and heard Bender snort, only encouraging you more. 

“Watch it, missy.” He addressed you again, slapping down a worksheet that all of you knew wouldn’t get done, but at least he seemed to have learned his lesson with the ‘essays’ after Brian told him where to shove it, courtesy of The Breakfast Club. He exited in a huff and Bender turned toward you.

“You know, he’s right,” he tutted, clicking his tongue in mock-disapproval, “you’re really going to the dark side. Skipping class and now smoking? I don’t know what to do with ya, kid.”   ‘I have some ideas,’ you thought, silently, while eyeing him. “Tell me, did you just have enough of being perfect all the time, or are you just here to see me?” He grinned deviously, trying to tease you, to get a rise out of you. However, he didn’t know that you were committed to the idea of being with him, to putting all the worry and shame behind you. You’d spent enough time here to repel the shackles of conformity and caring, you were ready to flirt shamelessly and see where that led you.

“Little bit of column A, a little from column B,” you admitted, taking pride in the resulting flustered expression from Bender. It was clear he didn’t expect this change from you. While he sat gaping at you like a fish, you stood up and confidently strode away, knowing Vernon wouldn’t be back unless there was some type of commotion. You sat down, leaning against a shelf of books knowing that Bender would eventually come to you and smirked at the thought.

It didn't take long for your plan to have the desired effect: Bender couldn't resist having attention and someone to talk to, after all. What was he going to do, his assignment? No, you knew he wouldn't let Vernon win. He tried to seem nonchalant about it, as if he were just coming over and actually selecting a book and oh my, you just happened to be here! You half-smirked in victory as he took a seat on the floor next to you.

“So what, pray tell, has brought you here today? I mean, I know the literal cause is for smoking, but I want to know the psychology of it. What made Shermer High’s resident good-girl go down this dark path? How did you,of all people, decide to go bad?” He asked, lowering his voice to a husky tone that left an inching heat between your thighs.

“Hmmm,” you hummed lightly in response, his eyes snapping up to your face while they had previously drifted down. “It’s kind of a secret. Do you want to know?” you lowered your tone conspiratorially, then leaned in towards him after he nodded. Your whispering breath tickled the shell of his ear as you admitted, “You. You are what changed and why I’m here today.” You pulled back and gave him a sickly sweet smile, amused by his responsive gulp.

“Was being innocent always an act, then? You seem like you can just turn it off and on, the way you smiled just now.” 

“Hmm, no.” You giggled in response. “It’s just that…when I met you, I found out that being perfect and preppy wasn’t the only way to live. I was so nervous that first day and thought I’d ruined my life. And then I met you. You were just so cool and didn’t overly care what people think.”

“It comes at a price, you know.”

“All of your Saturdays for all eternity, apparently.” You shrugged.

“It’s more than that,” he looked down at the ground. “I’m not exactly Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky.”

“No, I know that,” you replied, “but you’re more free than anyone I know. They all have sticks up their butts.” You said and he laughed. “Plus, I’d be interested in changing that, in making you happy.” You bit your lip, looking up at him with what you hoped was a meaningful expression…that he’d take the hint. 

He seemed to understand what you were implying because his eyebrows shot up. “What--What exactly are you proposing here?” He asked, taken aback. You had seemed as inexperienced as Claire and Allison when he had met you, and he didn’t think that had changed in the last month or so…unless you were lying in the first place.

“John,” you looked at him directly in the eye as you placed a hand gently on his thigh, “that’s up to you really, isn’t it?”

“Fuck,” he whimpered, meeting your stare. He was almost afraid to make the first move, scared that you would reveal it was all a joke at his expense, that it would all end in utter humiliation. But you just batted your long, dark lashes at him and gave that thigh a gentle squeeze, causing him to throw caution to the wind. He quickly grasped your face between his hands and kissed you, roughly. You let out a light moan to encourage him, and he moved his right hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and holding you near.

His lips were surprisingly soft against yours and his years of experience showed. You instantly repaid each of his kisses with your own, leaning forward into him, and bracing one of his wrists, wrapping around it with your hand. The way your lips moved in tandem, synching with your desires and your heart beats only made this feel more right. You obliged his curious tongue as it swept along your lip, begging to explore your mouth. You parted your lips softly, your breath intermingling with Bender’s. You broke the kiss a few moments later, pulling back, out of breath. Bender began kicking himself internally, fearing that he’d crossed a line or that you would finally reveal that you were just messing with him. He looked away, dejectedly, but you didn’t let him keep the wrong idea for long. You repositioned yourself and began to climb into his lap. He whipped his head back up, brown irises and pupils growing wide at your bold stance. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. You eased yourself down, your hips resting snugly against his own, pressing your chest into his.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you?” You smirked down at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, resting them along his broad shoulders. “Honey, I think we’re just getting started.” Sure, you lacked experience, but after you drank in that first kiss, you were hooked and didn’t want to---no, couldn’t stop now. You needed more, even though you weren’t sure how far that extended yet. At this present moment, you were willing to fuck Bender in the library today, right here amongst the stacks. In fact, you were kind of hoping for it, but you didn’t wholly want to push your luck. For now, you connected your lips back to Bender’s, thrusting your tongue into his mouth, desperate for the sensation of your tongue colliding with his. The soft pinks flexed against each other as you threaded your fingers through his hair, running your nails softly along his scalp. 

Bender tried to have some restraint. It’s the thought that counts, right? He didn’t want to move too fast or make any assumptions. At first, he had his hands along your face, then arms. He pinned them next to your waist and gave tentative squeezes as you deepened your kisses, but he could only resist for so long and needed to test the waters. He slid his hands down to your butt and pulled you forward, up along his lap, just a bit. You hummed appreciatively against his lips, and he took this as a good sign. He dug his fingers into the meat of your ass, massaging the dough and muscle there. His touch made you instinctively roll your hips forward, the sharp bones digging into him and creating an aching friction. He groaned as you pulled away and started to kiss down his jaw to the tender skin of his neck. “Are you---sure---you want this?” He panted out, trying to regain his breathing from your previous kisses to his lips. You only answered with a gentle tug to his hair, pulling his head back just enough to give you more access to the crook of his neck and his collarbone. Another lust-filled groan left his lips, urging you to continue. You could feel your desire dampening your clothed core, causing you to give another roll of your hips, which in turn caused Bender to buck upwards. Combined with his tight grip on your behind, you could feel the straining bulge growing beneath you, yearning to touch you. You smirked into his neck before you pulled back, stopping all sensation. You almost could have sworn you heard him whine in protest.

“You’re surprisingly quiet,” you mused. “I thought for sure you would have a million filthy things to say.”

"Honestly, I'm still a little in shock that this is actually happening," he confided, opening up in a rare moment of vulnerability. "You have no idea how much I've thought about this. About you. I'm not convinced it isn't a dream."

"Mm. Something to pass the time in another lonely Saturday detention?" You purred in response, tightening the grasp on his shoulders.

"Yeah," he licked his lips, eyes scanning your face and lowering down your body, "something like that." 

"Don't worry, baby, it's real." You chuckled darkly, bending to kiss his neck again, "and I think I have some idea how much you've thought about this," you ground down against him, indicating your awareness of his hardness, but also added, "because I've thought about you, too. Every. Night." The implication had his mind racing and he gripped you fiercely, placing a rough kiss to your lips. 

He couldn't contain himself much longer, and wanted to oblige your fantasies as well. His hands roamed your body with intense fervor. His touches were no longer hesitant, they came to you with a needy, almost bruising force. He palmed your breasts over your shirt, before squeezing them harshly, causing you to let out a mewling whine. "Please, John. More," you panted in response. His deft hands quickly slid up your shirt, eager to please, and snaked under the silky fabric of your bra. He relished in the warm squish of your skin and plucked one of your nipples between his index and middle fingers, sliding it down into the curve between. "Yes," you whispered in a high-pitched moan, which crumbled to a deep and gravely tone as Bender's teeth sank into your neck. 

He started to unleash his other hand, trailing down your stomach to the button of your jeans. When you didn't protest, he clicked them open quietly, tugging the zipper down gently. He dipped his hand into the spot he had made available, feeling you over your panties. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he groaned against your ear.

"It's cuz I want you … s'bad." You whined in response, desperate for him to touch you, to give you some kind of relief. 

"You're sure?" He asked. He still wasn't entirely certain of your level of experience, even though you were matching him on-par at this point. He was impressed, but still wary that you would call a stop to it, or regret it later. He'd been in those situations enough times. 

"You were just commenting on how wet I am. For you," you pointed out, "please, Bender, don't be a tease." You mocked him slightly, knowing he thought all girls were teases instead. He gave you a gruff growl in response and slipped his fingers wordlessly into your underwear, using the slick from your folds to coat two of his fingers. He slid them into you, easily, causing an electric shock of desire to jolt through your whole body. It was so different from the touches you had administered to yourself while thinking of him. So much better. 

"Don't ever think that John Bender doesn't deliver, sweetheart," he grumbled against the skin of your neck, making sure he was close enough to your ear for you to hear him. Your walls instinctively clenched around him, aroused by his commentary. "Mm, you like that? You like when I call you 'sweetheart?' Or do you just like having my fingers inside you, fucking into you?" He asked, amused. You nodded quickly, which made him chuckle in return, "Well, which is it?" 

"Both." You replied, then moaned loudly as he flexed his fingers in you. 

"God, I love hearing that. Don't hold back, sweetheart. Keep moaning for me. I'll make it worth your while." He said, and you weren't sure what he meant, exactly, but you were eager to find out, so you let out another low moan to encourage him. He delighted you by adding another layer, an insistent thumb that brought circles to your clit, increasing your pleasure tenfold. 

"Mmf! Fuck!" You breathed, arching your back, pushing your hips forward into his touch. "Yes, John. Just like that. Please." 

"Mm. Where did that controlling girl go? Now you're so needy and begging for it." He smirked.

"Shh," you hushed his criticism and bent forward to kiss him hungrily, tiny breathy moans escaping from the seal of your lips as your orgasm started to build. You bucked against him, riding his hand to seek your high, hands now tangling in his hair. You pulled back to whisper, "I'm so close, John. Please. Please make me cum."

"I told you, baby. I always deliver." He quickened his motions to bring you over the edge and you called his name, feeling it echo in the otherwise silent library. He stroked you a couple more times before slowly pulling his fingers away, letting you come down. "If you think you can stand, I wanna show you even more." He raised an eyebrow at you and you nodded, complying immediately. He was right, your bold nature was gone, replaced by a submissive nature that only focused on the desire for more. You stood up quickly, awaiting directions. "Turn around and grab the shelf." He commanded, climbing to his feet, giving an amused huff of a laugh when he saw how quickly you obeyed. He rummaged around in his wallet for a moment, procuring a condom and holding it in front of your face while he stood behind you, close enough that you could feel his erection brush against your ass. "I want to fuck you. Is that alright, sweetheart?" 

"God, please, yes." You rubbed your ass against him, seeking friction and he laughed again. He tugged at your bottoms, shaking them down your thighs in preparation, then pulling his own down. You heard the rip in the foil and gulped. You were still keen to do this, you needed him inside of you, but your heart pounded in fear and you paused for a moment. "John? I've…I've never done this before. Please, take it easy on me." You confessed and felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. 

"Mm. With how good you've been, you could have fooled me." He mused, running a hand down your side, making you shiver. He leaned forward and you could feel his chest pressed against your back as he nudged his chin onto your shoulder. "Don't worry, sweets. I'll take good care of you." He purred back. Yours was not the first virginity that John Bender had claimed, and you were pretty presumptive of that fact. "Bend forward just a little more," he recommended, and you complied. "Good girl," he hummed, making you feel another wave of wetness flood your core. 

He grasped himself in one hand and led his controlled tip against your folds, allowing your arousal to lubricate the condom as he ran it down the shaft. "I'll go nice and slow, baby. I won't hurt you…unless you want me to." You pressed back against him, his words making you feel anguished for contact. He laughed lightly at the effect he had on you, and gently grabbed your hips to steady you. "You ready, sweets?" He asked and you nodded vigorously before feeling him enter you, stretching your walls slowly to accommodate him. It wasn't painful, but a bit uncomfortable as he inched his way in. You'd never felt so full before and it was definitely something you had to get adjusted to. He was slow and patient, as promised, letting you get used to each bit of him before adding more. "You doing alright?" He asked and you nodded. "Good, 'cuz you are so fucking tight, I wasn't sure," he growled and you instantly felt dizzy with desire. He finally had reached the hilt, having pushed all the way into you. "I'm gonna start moving. I wanna fuck you, okay, baby? You tell me if anything doesn't feel right." 

You nodded again and let out a pathetic, "Please, fuck me, John," that made him want to turn feral, but he remembered his promise. He'd take it easy on you…this time. 

He pulled back and gently reinserted himself. "You drive me fucking wild, saying shit like that. You know that?" He asked and you mewled at the feeling of him filling you back up, gripping the bookshelf just a bit tighter. "All you ever had to do was ask, sweetheart. I've been dying to fuck you six ways from Sunday since we've met. You're so, so pretty," he started to pick up the pace with his words, withdrawing and then pressing back into you, "with those big eyes and their fuck-me stare. I was hoping you wanted me. That I wasn't just imagining it. I thought, oh no, a good girl like that can't be into me. Too innocent. Too sweet. But I was wrong, wasn't I? Deep down, you're just as filthy as me. Begging to be fucked in the library? Because you have detention for smoking? My, my." There was that dirty talk you longed for. 

"Mm, yes. I wanted you so bad. From day one, John. I---" you gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, "had to have you." He pulled out and plowed back in with a renewed force, spurred on by your sultry confessions. You moaned and dropped your head forward, feeling your legs beginning to quake. It was so hard to keep yourself upright while he talked to you the way he did, and while he fucked into you with unbridled desire, possibly as strong as yours. You began to see stars as he brought one of his hands around to the front, running a finger against your swollen clit. You could feel heat radiating off him as his chest pressed against your back, tightly fucking into you and keeping the perfect pressure on the sensitive bud. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, groaning his name. 

"Yes baby, take it just like that and say my name. Fuck, you feel so good."

"Jesus, Bender. You feel even better. I'm close."

"Ohh yeah, baby. Cum on me. Cum while my dick is buried deep in that tight little pussy. Make me cum for you." He grunted out between thrusts, making your head spin and your body lose control. With a final loud moan, your walls clenched around him in your release. 

"Fuck, fuck, John! S'good. Please cum for me, baby. I want you to feel good, too." You muttered, feeling nonsensical in your words, but he still responded.

"Don't worry, sweets. You're making me feel amazing. Won't be much longer, with a pussy this tight and good. I'm almost there. Hold on, hold---" he couldn't finish his thought as he reached his climax as well, digging his fingers into your hips with a bruising force, snapping his own hips up to chase the sensation of his high and you cried out at the sudden burst of friction, taking him deeper in than before. He stilled for a moment, catching his breath and coming back down to reality, surprised to still find you there and to know this wasn't just another wet dream, his subconscious reminding him of what he couldn't have.

He kissed the side of your neck before pulling out of you all too quickly, the fullness replaced by emptiness. You immediately pouted, glad you were turned away from him so he couldn't see the effect he had on you. He was zipping up as you stopped to pull your own pants back up your legs. 

"That was…amazing. Jesus Christ, Y/N, you've been holding out on me," he teased and you pushed him gently. "Ho hum, what to do with all these hours left?" He asked with a smirk.

"I could think of one or two things," you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, I do need some time to recuperate," he said, pulling a baggie of weed from his front pocket, "you down with just this for now?" He offered.

Hallo! I'm opening up my inbox for just a couple fandoms, really only two.

Futurama and Supernatural.

Now, I will go ahead and say that I'm not too fond of gore, but I'll do small detailing of it if the fic request either says or implies it. I'm mostly open to fluff, but will do angst too. Smut is a meh, so it'll be like a 50/50 whether I decide to do smut requests or not.

Now, the list isn't long, but here are some character X Readers I'm comfortable with writing (only because I know the character well):

Philip J. Fry X Reader Leela X Reader Dean Winchester X Reader Sam Winchester X Reader Castiel X Reader Jack Kline X Reader Bender X Reader Amy Wong X Reader

Now, here are some of the !reader tags I'm willing to do:

upset/depressed!reader drunk!reader fem!reader nonbinary!reader male!reader gender-nonconforming!reader artist!reader coming out!reader (if reader is deciding to come out, whether it be sexuality or gender) and more if you guys think of any!

Some for only Futurama: stripper!reader alien!reader cryogenically frozen!reader and more if you guys come up with some!

Some for only Supernatural: vampire!reader demon!reader angel!reader spirit!reader haunted!reader hunter!reader and any more if you guys have something in mind!

Artist: Brittany Frost Designs

Masterlist

Word Count: 6.5k (ish)

Synopsis: Bender meets a Nouveau Riche girl at a party and is instantly smitten. He thought he had learned his lesson with Claire, that two classes clash, but he hopes it will be different with reader, as she seems as broken and lonely as him. Songfic for Broken by Lovelytheband.

CW:  Underage drinking/drugs; ‘psycho’  and ‘freak’ used in the pejorative sense; rich/preppy kids being jerks; references to familial abuse and fights; angst (feelings of being undeserving, break ups, purposeful verbal harm); happy-ish ending (but it feels somewhat unresolved to me?); 2nd and 3rd person POV shifts.

Shout out to @80strashbag for making me want to finally finish this fic.

They agreed that they could 'still be friends,' and Bender would be damned if he caved first. So, he put on an unaffected face as he entered the party Claire invited him to. He shoved down his reminiscent feelings of rejection from Claire regarding their break up, the embarrassment for still caring about it even though it was a month ago, and his nervousness at showing up at a place he truly did not belong. Claire apparently knew some rich kid who was living in his parents' guesthouse so he could pretend to be independent while still being technically under their roof. The security that the opulent had so that they could believe they had survival skills made him chuckle to himself; no way this kid ever spent a night on the street. John had been alone and responsible for himself since these kids were cutting their teeth on silver spoons and now they wanted to pretend to be like him. Being on your own isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

As he entered, no one seemed to pay him any mind, and for that he was grateful. He looked as displaced as he felt, but the booze already seemed to be flowing (and at a party like this, he expected that there would be much stronger drugs than alcohol being exchanged) and he was of no consequence.  He spotted Claire, some new bozo with his arm around her waist, showing her off as an accessory.  Might as well go say hi; the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could leave. Although, as he looked around, he thought it might not be so bad. In addition to libations, there were a lot of pretty women around, presumably with parents to piss off the way he had done with the Standishes. He smirked, relishing the thought. 

So, he made nice and clung to Claire and, ugh….Kevin, as he didn't know anyone else. Luckily, a few shots down the hatch allowed him to be more amicable to the latter and he started loosening up a bit, maybe even enjoying himself despite Claire's ramblings about how the place was decorated so much like a New York apartment and isn't that great?  But the drinks caught up to him and he unceremoniously excused himself with a, "gotta take a piss." Claire rolled her eyes and waved him off in disgust, but at least he got a laugh from Kevin. As he sought to join the lengthy queue, his gaze landed on the most gorgeous, brilliant creature he had ever laid eyes on.  

 I met you late night, at a party

Some trust fund baby's 'Brooklyn loft'

He sidled up behind her, and for the first time in his life, smooth-talking John Bender was tongue-tied. Even inebriated or stoned off his ass, he was used to being clever. Witty. He'd built up enough immunity to substances to still maintain control of his faculties, generally.  But maybe it wasn't just the liquor that was affecting him. He drank in her beautiful features faster than the several shots of vodka he consumed prior. Shermer High wasn't that big, but he was sure he had never seen her before. Then again, maybe she went to some prep school that cost her parents more money than he'd see in a year; it was that type of party. His eyes raked over the curves of her body, the outfit perfectly and delicately draped over her frame to draw attention to the right places, although he was unconvinced that there was any feature of hers that wasn't in contention for 'best.' She was alone, unaccompanied in this line the same as he was, just looking forward. But she must have sensed his fixed stare, or maybe he was breathing too heavily or she really could hear his racing heartbeat as the organ thrummed against his rib cage (it was audible to him at least). And she looked over her shoulder, making eye contact with him. His eyes grew wide, afraid he had been caught. Bender had been caught engaging in so many infractions that he thought he was immune to feeling guilt over them anymore, but he was susceptible to that gaze. She surprised him with a kind, easy smile and turned to face him more. "Hi," she said softly, sweetly, and he was hooked.

"Hey," he replied back. He hoped it came off aloof enough to be cool, but not so much that it was dismissive. He craved her engagement, so he gestured to the line, "sucks, huh? You'd think it was a line at Disneyland."

She tilted her head, trying to read him before responding, "Definitely. An E-ticket ride, even."  He couldn't help but laugh, even though it was a stupid and kind of outdated joke, but it seemed truly original to him in that moment and he just wanted her to say more, even if she made him flustered.

By the bathroom, you said, "Let's talk"

But my confidence is wearing off

Their conversation flowed easier and more plentiful than the setup of kegs at the party as they shuffled forward in the line. He almost forgot why they were there and wanted to linger as she gestured to the open bathroom door, finally up for her turn. "Well, I should probably…" she trailed off, indicating why they had come here in the first place.

"No, yeah, definitely. Have at it." He said, and even though she chuckled, he felt like an idiot as she closed the door. He rubbed a hand over his face. Who encourages a hot girl to use the bathroom, he told himself in frustration.  When she exited, he awkwardly went in, hoping he'd spot her around later. However, she was standing outside the door, on the opposite wall of the hallway, waiting for him when he departed the small room.

"I hope it's not too weird but… I don't really know anybody here anymore. Can I stick with you?" He contained his excitement enough to remain cool, keep up the facade as usual.

"Ok, sure." He took her along and introduced her to Claire and 'the boy toy,' as he nicknamed him in only a pitch she could hear, close to her ear and in as neat a whisper as he could get in the loud environment. However, they didn't stick around. Bender wanted, no, needed to be the center of attention, to get to really know her, so they branched off and wandered outside so that they could exist as just the two of them. 

Well, these aren't my people, these aren't my friends

"I don't know, it's not really my scene." Bender gestured vaguely at the building,  "I don't think I've ever been to a place with a 'guesthouse' before,” he chuckled, trying to make the dig seem light.

"Honestly? Me either. This isn't my scene, I mean. I don't really like parties…or people." She laughed and the sound was addicting. "I'm actually really glad you suggested coming out here.  It's less…overwhelming."

"So then, what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asked, waggling his eyebrows, eliciting another laugh. I could get used to that, he thought, even though truthfully he wondered how he ever lived without it.

"Well, long story short, my dad recently played the stock market well and wanted to make a lifestyle change with his good fortune."

"Ah, so you're one of those." Bender said before he had a chance to filter the thought. Of course, he had a deep-seated prejudice against the richies, but he suspected she had to be one initially, just from her being here. Although perhaps part of him hoped she was in a similar situation to him, after all, he was here and he was dirt-poor.

Luckily, she didn't take it in offense, "I guess so," she smiled. "But as much as my dad wants it,  I don't know, I feel like things haven't really changed. That I haven't changed. But that's absurd. Of course they have; look at what I'm wearing!" She laughed and Bender acted as though he hadn't already converted every stitch of her outfit to memory and pretended to examine it for the first time. "But it's not me, not really. He made me enroll in a new school and some of the girls have been nice, more or less. And that's why I'm here. I came with a girl named Stacy. I think she's friends of a friend with whoever lives here, but… she bailed right after I came out of the bathroom. Some newer and better party, I guess. Or she met someone, I don't really know."

"So, why did you stay? Why not just leave with her and go to the 'newer and better party'?" He asked.

"Well, like I said, not really my scene. A bigger party?" She scoffed, "no thank you." She looked down and continued quietly, as if afraid to make eye contact or too much sound, and Bender leaned forward, intent to hear the secret, "and, truthfully, I wanted to keep talking to you." That delivered a blow right to his heart, pow, full on knockout.

Bender was never good with emotions, or with being defeated, so he fell quiet for a moment, but then admitted, "I'm glad you stayed." She seemed to drop tension in her body, as if she were relieved. He hadn't expected either of their admissions to have much weight to them, but they opened a door and he let his guard down quickly. Even though John had a tendency to overshare when he was angry or feeling particularly theatrical, an intimate setting like this would usually make him clam up. He didn't usually describe his life to strangers, despite what the Breakfast Club might think. But here, under the inky sky dotted with bright white stars, he divulged himself. Y/N didn't feel like a stranger, though. And with each reveal, he didn't feel judgment, but rather, acceptance.

She hesitated a moment before cupping his face in both of her hands and confessing that she felt the same, that there was already a bond and a trust there that neither one could explain. 

She grabbed my face and that's when she said,

"I like that you're broken, broken like me

Maybe that makes me a fool

I like that you're lonely, lonely like me

I could be lonely with you"

They stayed there far too long, and yet it would never be enough. Bender felt like he could spend an eternity with her, listening to her stories and uncovering her past. However, she had some sort of curfew to meet. It seemed that, unlike his parents, hers actually gave a shit. He extended the trust and allowed her to give him a ride to his house.  Maybe he wanted to prove to himself that this was real…or that it wasn't. Either way, seeing the crap-shack hellhole that he lived in would be a test. She didn't run for the hills or even comment on it. Instead, she leaned over the console to kiss him goodnight. It ignited his lips in a way that he questioned why he had wasted so much time with any other girl before. The simple answer was that he didn't know what he was missing, that only because he did not know of her existence did he not fill this empty ache sooner.

After that night, he couldn’t let her go. Not that he would ever want to, but he was sure he was purely, physically incapable of doing so. He needed her presence the same way he needed to breathe; she gave him inspiration, life. He didn’t have the funds to take her out on proper dates or get her the things he felt she deserved, so he did the next best thing and gave himself to her, wholly and openly…something he had never gifted to another person before. She made the guard drop so easily and she, in kind, opened up to him. She spoke to him about family members and friends she’d lost. How her life had been uprooted by her father’s desires to play pretend and how she still felt like she didn’t fit in. She was completely lost in this new world and John felt like a tether to the old one.

“I feel like some sort of imposter, you know? I never have any idea what any of them are talking about. I’m not in the loop for the hottest trends and they’re always, like, condescending about it.”

“Those bitches,” Bender scoffed and she laughed melodically, a sound that always put him at ease.

“I don’t know if they even realize they’re doing it, or if it’s just so ingrained in their personalities at this point. I can’t imagine what it’s like being brought up that way. I’m sure you get that,” she looked to him for reassurance and he nodded, “I must seem like an alien to them. A real freak.” She let out a lamentable sigh and John shot right up, bracing her chin and along the expanse of her neck, gently coaxing her to look at him.

“No one could ever think that about you. So you don’t know what the in band is or if mini-skirts are going to still be fashionable in the fall,” he snorted dismissively at the thought, “So what? You’re smarter than they are, you have a kind heart, you know what actual hardship is…and you’re more beautiful than any of them could ever hope to be.” He leaned in, murmuring the last of these words, letting his lips brush against hers before he applied pressure to fully kiss her. “They’re probably just jealous. And if they’re not, they should be.” She giggled and returned his kiss, stretching her fingers over his shoulder and tugging on the leather jacket she found there, twisting it into her clutch and pulling him closer. He pulled back and looked deeply into her eyes.

There's something tragic, but almost pure

Think I could love you, but I'm not sure

Hers flicked back and forth between his warm rustic irises, trying to read his thoughts and verify his sincerity. She hadn’t known John long, but she believed she really knew him. He had been upfront about his typical nature, and Claire had confirmed that for her at one time. She told Y/N of how she met Bender and how he had made her cry and that they would fight. There was always passion between Bender and Claire in their relationship but it depended on the day, or rather the minute, whether it manifested positively or negatively. Looking at him now, hearing his words of adoration and never a slight in her direction, Y/N had trouble believing that that was true.

It was clear that John was hurting. He had a lot bottled up inside and never knew how to express it appropriately. The symbols of previous fights stayed behind, their scars running deep. Some were literal: cuts and bruises that she watched heal over time. Some were from others at school or people he encountered in the streets, but most were from home. The marks to his soul, however, were evident in his speech and his desperation to change his situation…but also in the way he talked to and about her. The dark notes were there when he spoke of school, of some man named Vernon who really had it out for him, and how he felt trapped and as though he’d never amount to more. However, there were rays of light, and she could see them now, there in those deep brown pools staring softly back at her. He wanted to do better, to be better for her. And, around her, he truly felt he was. Everything in her life had shifted, but looking into John’s eyes, she felt at home.

There's something wholesome, there's something sweet

Tucked in your eyes that I'd love to meet

Another party. At Claire’s insistence. And somehow, she roped both of you into it. This time, she invited the whole lot of you to a party you mentioned; she didn’t even know the hosts. 

“This girl, Theresa, she’s in my science class and she asked me to come to her birthday party but---” You started.

“Oh my God, we have to go.” Claire declared instantly, cutting you off.

“What?” You asked, surprised.

“You didn’t even let her finish,” John scoffed.

“C’mon, Y/N, this is the perfect opportunity to mix your circles. We could get to know them and they could get to know us. You could debut your relationship with John.” She said, giving a little wiggle of her shoulders to entice you into joining her excitement. Instead, you just grimaced at the idea of interacting with a bunch of people, particularly ones you hardly knew from school.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that will be the talk of the town. I’m the number one debutante around here, after all.” John snorted at Claire, but she waved him off.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun! You never know what can or will happen. I mean, you two found each other at a party, so why not?”

“I don’t know, Claire. I think she was just asking to be nice because I was in earshot--”

“Or, more likely, to gobble up more presents,” Bender interjected.

“But I don’t really know her or if we’d get along.”

“That’s why you go! To see if they’re someone to hang out with! Come on, please? I’m dying socially. I feel like I haven’t been out in forever.” Claire whined and you instantly felt guilty for keeping your circle small and for being a homebody.

“Jesus, Claire, really?” John began, but you overlapped him.

“Okay,” you replied, defeated and deflated. Claire squealed in delight that you had agreed and John rolled his eyes.

Bender tried; he really did. He even asked Claire for fashion advice from the best pieces in his closet. He arrived at the party, hand-in-hand with you. You thought he looked handsome as ever, and could tell that he’d put in extra effort, ‘dressed-to-impress.’ Claire blended in perfectly, as did Kevin. Both of them were used to the theme of elite and knew the right style to portray themselves in. Claire had practically dressed you and even leant you complementary pieces of jewelry so that you could play the part as well. However, that just made Bender look and feel more out of place. Amongst the four of you, he definitely stood out and he could feel people’s cold, hard stares as your group walked past. 

Truthfully, you wanted to be able to get this over with as soon as possible, so you sought out the birthday-host quickly. “There she is! Let’s go say hi, drop off the gift…”

“What’s the rush?” Claire asked, as if your hesitation to come tonight wasn’t already obvious.

“I uh…just thought it would be rude not to let her know we came. And it’s awkward to carry around a gift bag all night,” you lied.

“I’m sure there’s a table set up somewhere to receive gifts,” Claire said.

“Oh, of course there is,” John said mockingly, “just like a bar mitzvah.”

“We should still make an appearance, right? I mean, make ourselves known?” You asked, unsteadily. 

“Yeah, yeah! That’s a good idea,” Kevin said, trying to be supportive. You weaved your way through the crowd and stood by until there was an appropriate moment in between well-wishes.

“Hi, Theresa! Happy birthday!” You said, standing with one hand wound tightly in John’s, squeezing it for some kind of reassurance and grounding, the other hand thrusting a gift bag in Theresa’s direction. She chuckled haughtily in response.

“Why, thank you. Who are…all these people?” She said in a passive-aggressive tone, and you realized that people brought a plus-one at most, generally. Claire quickly introduced herself, showing that she fit in and should be welcome in this world, although her attire had already communicated that. She also introduced Kevin, who shook hands and earned a warm smile for his cleancut handsomeness. Then her eyes shifted to John. “And who, pray tell, is this?” She asked, noticing you clutching onto him.

“Uh, hello. I’m John. Bender.” He said, almost stilted in his tone. He wanted to make a good impression for your sake, but he wasn’t sure how. He was out of place here.

“My boyfriend,” you added and Theresa giggled.

“I see. Well, nice to meet you all,” she replied in an insincere tone. It was about as fake as everything else in your new lifestyle. “I should be going, though. Plenty of people to see. I’m so glad you could make it, Y/N.” She flashed a fraudulent smile, perfect and pearly, before she left.

“Can we go now?” You whined to Claire, but she shook her head and pushed your shoulder, leading you deeper into the house.

“There’s gotta be something to drink,” Kevin said.

“And something to dance to. Come on!” Claire urged. 

You tried to ignore the glances, the gapes, the guffaws. You tried to convince yourself that you were imagining it, that your anxiety was getting the best of you; you were seeing things just because you didn’t want to be here. It was more difficult to pretend when someone approached your group. 

“Hey, I can’t get this bottle open.” He shouted over the din.

“I’m sorry?” You said, not sure if that was an appropriate response or what he was looking for.

“Well, I thought I’d come over here and ask if you had something to help me,” he turned to John, “You look like you have a bottle-opener or maybe a switchblade on you.” He said and his cronies behind him cackled, making it clear that you, or more accurately, John, were the butt of their joke.

“You’re goddamned right I do,” John growled in response, making the guy’s joyous expression fall. He clearly didn’t seriously think this, and suddenly his joke became a terrifying possibilty. He backed away in a hurry, his friends grouping around him with eyes that flickered back to John cautiously. They had a hushed buzz among them, discussing him more, and above that, you could hear ‘I think that’s John Bender. I’ve heard about him. He’s a real psycho.’

You felt the flex of John’s arm muscle under your hand. “Hey, they’re not worth it,” you reminded him, “let’s just go.” You started to usher him out, Claire and Kevin joining you expeditiously, while he looked back over his shoulder at the group and grappled with what he wanted to say and do. In the end, he settled on a mild middle finger. You were relieved that it wasn’t something much worse. You tried to calm him down and impress upon him that the people there were losers, that you didn’t care what they thought, but he seemed uneasy, even when you dropped him off at his house. You felt tears stinging in your eyes as you watched him walk up the cracked driveway; he meant so much to you and you hated seeing him put down.

These aren't my people, these aren't my friends

She grabbed my face and that's when she said

I like that you're broken, broken like me

Maybe that makes me a fool

I like that you're lonely, lonely like me

I could be lonely with you

He thought he had changed. He could feel the tendrils of alteration happening in his heart, in his life. He fell for you so easily and was so trusting…but that party reminded him of the undeniable: you both were from two different worlds. It was going to implode just like his and Claire’s relationship had. So, he did what he did best and put the walls back up, steeling himself for self-sabotage and promising himself that it would hurt less if he initiated it. 

It started with missed calls and denying dates. Half-assed excuses of having to work or having another detention. Putting distance between himself and you was his best bet. It was easier to resist you when he wasn’t looking at you or talking to you. He would have succeeded too, if you weren’t so determined to care about him enough to seek him out. He was shocked and a little upset to find you sitting outside his house. He hadn’t even noticed your car parked down the block; he wasn’t prepared for the confrontation and immediately withdrew into a guarded stance, balling his fists at his side.

“John,” you said, standing up from the curb in front of his house. “We need to talk. You can’t keep dodging me like this. That’s why I thought I’d finally come out here. Please.”

“There’s not much to say,” he sniffed, trying to act cool. In kind, you tried to act like those words didn’t strike you as harshly as they did.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I thought it would be pretty obvious when I stopped returning your calls. There’s nothing to say to you anymore.”

“How can you say that?”

“We’re two different people, Y/N. That party made that clear. Crys-tal.” 

“I’m sorry for how they acted, but I told you, John, I don’t care what they think.”

“Well I do,” he spat back, “I don’t need to be dragged along to dinner parties like some pet, or--or freakshow.

“Do you think I wanted that reaction for you? That I’m showing you off for a laugh or something?” You asked, incensed. He couldn’t really think that, right? Surely he knew how you truly felt about him, how much you cared. But he gave a lazy shrug in response, refusing to meet your eyes.

“That’s your world now and there’s no part for me in it. Whether you agree with it or not. Just how it is.” 

“So, you’re just going to be blase about this? And say…I don’t know, what, that we’re done? Just because some idiot that neither of us knows or will ever see again said some shitty thing to you?” 

“Yeah, princess. I guess so.” He started to brush past you, but you grabbed on to his wrist, lightly.

“Don’t you care?” You asked him softly, unable to hold back your tears any longer. As they wove broken paths down your face, Bender resisted the urge to wipe them away and to take it all back. This was what was for the best. So, he bucked up and swallowed hard.

“No. It was fun while it lasted, kid.” He pulled out of your grasp and stormed forward to his house. He wasn’t about to let you see him cry.

Life is not a love song that we like

We're all broken pieces floating by

Life is not a love song we can try

To fix our broken pieces one at a time

“He’s miserable without you. You’re all he talks about,” Claire said as you two were sat in the food court at the mall, pleading with you to try to resolve your relationship with John.

“That’s surprising. He was the one who left, who broke up with me,” you reminded her.

“That’s just what he’s like, Y/N.” Claire said and then sighed, “Look, I don’t get it, either. His logic, I mean. He does and says stupid shit like that all the time, to avoid being serious and honest.”

“He didn’t seem like he was joking to me,” you huffed. Claire wasn’t there that night; she didn’t understand the heartbreak. You were too hurt to magically ‘fix’ this, even though you wanted John back and wanted to believe that he felt the same way without you.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just---John doesn’t know what it’s like to be loved, Y/N. He’s never known that, not really. I don’t think he knew what to do with it when it came from you. I think it scared him. Like…like he wasn’t good enough, like it wasn’t normal for you to care about him. But you two are so good together. I think he needs you. And you love him.”

You looked away, pushing your finger against your lower lashes, stifling the tears gathered there. You did love John and Claire wasn’t telling you some big secret. He was open about his family and how they treated him. How many relationships had ended in a fight or someone forgetting him. You just hadn’t thought of that being a factor in him leaving, that he was running and hiding from something unfamiliar. But you didn’t know what to do about it. Bender had cracked your heart in two and left you crying on a dusty curb in front of his house. 

“I don’t know, Claire. Maybe he’s right. Maybe we’re too different. Just not in the way he said. I can’t stop this feeling, this pain. Maybe we shouldn’t be together. How would I know he’s not going to run off again?” You asked and she had no reassuring answer for you, only a look filled with sympathy.

~*~*~

“You’re such a dumbass,” Claire told John bluntly.

“Well good morning to you too,” he grumbled back gruffly.

“I saw Y/N yesterday, John,” she clarified and his back stiffened.

“Oh.” He said flatly. No zinger from John Bender today.

“Yeah.” Claire nodded, and when he didn’t fill the silence, she continued, “You really hurt her, John.”

“That’s how it goes sometimes,” he muttered, taking no culpability.

“I know you don’t mean that. You never shut up about her. You don’t really want her gone. You especially don’t want her to suffer. And that’s why you’re a dumbass. Because you caused all of this, even though it isn’t what you want and it’s killing her.”

“You don’t get it, Claire. I mean, you should, but you don’t. So I’ll spell it out for you. I am not cut out for high society.” He dug his fingers into his chest, then gestured at her, “Exhibit A.”

“Just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean it’s the same with her,” Claire rolled her eyes. “We fought all the time, John. Even when we met. But with Y/N… you’re so different with her. You should see yourself, how she impacts you.”

“I know exactly how she impacts me, thanks.” He started gritting his teeth. Cutting himself off from any other emotion and replacing it with anger, as always. “I have nothing to offer her in return,” he admitted.

“That’s not true, John,” Claire sighed pitifully, “you have yourself. Your humor, your love. She obviously misses you and feels the pain without you every day. It doesn’t matter if you’re not in the same tax-bracket or whatever. She loves you for you,” she poked a finger into his sternum, commandingly, “And you shouldn’t throw that all away.”

~*~*~

It never got easier, admitting that Claire was right; but Bender had to swallow his pride and do just that. He missed you, that much he was certain. But he also acquiesced to the idea that maybe she was right that you needed him, too. He couldn't fathom why; he never felt like he improved anyone's life, but Claire had said you were just as miserable in his absence, and a tiny shred of hope within himself begged him to believe her. 

So, that's what he was doing outside your house now, having taken two buses and walking several miles to get here. It didn't matter if he felt like he was going to collapse in a heap on your threshold, he just needed you to open the door…and prayed that you'd give him the chance to make things right, to get you back into his life. He mustered up the courage to knock, half-afraid that you wouldn't be the one to open the door, half-afraid that you would be. While he didn't think he was ready to meet your family, (he was prepared to make that sacrifice if you requested it),  he could just envision your proud, wealthy father turning him away in disgust; a punk like him would never be good enough for a daughter like you. 

Both fortunately and unfortunately, you opened the door and stood in shock; he was the last person you expected on your doorstep. At this point, you would have welcomed a pushy salesman or a religious zealot. Instead, you felt the scarred-over portions of your heart tear open anew. "John," you said weakly, but your surprise got the best of you. It was an automatic response. In turn, he pushed down the rushing sensation of how good it felt to hear you say his name again after all this time.

"Y/N, I know I fucked up. Royally. But if it's all right, I ---I want to talk. To make up for it."

"I don't know if you can," you said, cracking his heart. But yours was just as damaged and longed for him. He didn't know it, but you couldn't say no to him. You're not sure you ever could have; he'd had you since day one. "But you can come in anyway."

You sat down out back, a place which held so many particularly good memories before, but had been tainted in John's absence. He had nowhere to start. He acted tough and confident, but it was all just that: an act. And he knew that you already knew that. He didn't know how to 'sell himself' or make you believe he was worthy of another chance, especially because he wasn't sure he believed it himself.

"So, uh," he cleared his throat and his eyes darted around warily, fearing to connect with yours. "Claire said she saw you and that you wanted to talk to me."

"Imagine that. It's almost like I've called you a hundred times and told you that myself, right before you broke up with me." He winced at how bluntly you put it and wanted to dodge the feeling of guilt that hit him. But he couldn't run. You were worth it to stay, to try.

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do then. Or now, really. I just--" he finally looked up and glancing at your face dissipated any hope he had at maintaining his composure. Tears pricked his eyes instantly and he was unable to blink them off, so they began to pool instead. "I have missed you every second since then. Since before then. I thought I was doing the right thing, that that would be better for you, but. But Claire said it's just as hard for you, too." He trailed off and swallowed hard, trying again to keep the tears at bay, and you let him sit with his silence for a moment before confirming.

"It is. I've missed you just as much. Maybe more, but you hurt me, John. And I know you know that. That was the whole point, wasn't it? To try to make me not want you anymore?" He nodded and waited for something along the lines of 'well guess what? It worked. I'm totally over you, now get the fuck out of my house,' but that didn't come. 

"It was exactly like that. That night at the party I--- I know you didn't care and you didn't see it that way, but it made me realize that I truly have nothing to offer you. All I'm ever good for in a relationship is for someone to get the thrill of dating a 'bad boy' or to piss off their parents."

"John," you cut him off, "it was never about pissing off my parents or making a statement. I liked you for you. You always saw me as I am, not what someone else wanted me to be. You saw the person lost in the shift between one life and another and--- and I thought we were the same. That you got that because you were like me. We're both broken in different ways and neither of us fit in anywhere, but we fit with each other, ya know? And…and when you left, it was like being all alone. I couldn't relate to anybody anymore because there's only one person who really, truly gets me, and that's you. That's what I get from it. That's what you have to offer: yourself and that connection. I never wanted anything else."

He took a moment to process that. "Y'know, no one's ever told me that I'm enough, before. They've always wanted me to be better, to be someone else. To change. I guess I just didn't know what to do when someone didn't expect that from me. It just didn't seem possible…like it should be some sort of trap. That's what I'm used to. I shouldn't have put that on you. I was just---scared. And I didn't think it would really hurt you. I mean, everyone else got along just fine without me. When I hurt someone, it doesn't last. It just pisses them off enough to get rid of me and to save themselves. They bounce right back. I didn't even consider --- anyway, that doesn't matter. I'm sorry. That I did that to you, that I left you alone." He began quaking, the tears refusing to be dammed anymore. He knew what that was like; he'd felt alone most of his life. Unless he was with you. He looked up to see your face mirroring his, just as broken-hearted without the other, but you gave him a faint smile underneath your tear-tracked cheeks. 

"Just don't do it again," the smile then dropped and your quivering voice was dangerously quiet, "I don't want to be without you again."

"I don't deserve you. Or another chance," Bender whispered back as you approached. He didn't want to sucker you in through pity. That wasn't why he was here.

"John, I just want you, how you always were to me. Can you do that?" You asked and he nodded, startled by you taking his hands, "then that's good enough. That's what I want, what I need. You just can't run away again when you're scared. I need you, John."

"I won't. Never again," he replied, sincerely. John Bender wasn't known as being a man of his word, but this was one promise that he never betrayed. 

I like that you're broken, broken like me

Maybe that makes me a fool

I like that you're lonely, lonely like me

Masterlist

Word Count: 4.9K

A/N: This is definitely A/U or non-canonical even though it’s the specific reader from my series. I like Bender being fully platonic and brotherly towards that reader, but this idea would not leave me alone and here we are. And I spent far too long mulling on this. Apparently I started this in OCTOBER?

Synopsis: It didn’t start this way, but John’s never been taken care of or cared for before. He can’t help but fall for Y/N, even though he knows she is very much taken. Inspired by/follows the lyrics of Free by Graffiti6.

CW: Vulnerable!Bender, Love triangle angst, swearing, child abuse by parents

Bender was more suspicious than ever, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He had never had life so good. It was sheer luck that Y/N had been given detention for something as stupid as stealing biology lab frogs and that she had chosen to become his friend. She sought him out and took him in at his darkest hour and had been nothing but kind. And now, he had been living with her and her mom for months, with the latter helping him work towards becoming emancipated from his parents. Y/N’s mom was a social worker and knew all the right forms to fill out and people to talk to and the years of abuse John had endured made this an open-and-shut case. Now it was a matter of getting through the red tape and waiting, but she could almost guarantee him that he would be free of them, legally, soon enough. They hadn’t really cared to follow up or find out where he was before.

He hadn’t been home since April, but they didn’t take note of him until they were served with court papers. They still didn’t know where he now lived, but they could still find him. And maybe this was what that feeling of impending doom was leading to, his father bursting through the doors of Bert’s Auto Shop with court papers in hand, screaming at John. Per usual, John just shut down. The less emotion he showed, the better. It was never worth arguing back to his father, but especially not now at his place of business. He was more embarrassed than anything. Usually his father kept these kinds of ‘interactions’ private. But since he didn’t have that setting to control John anymore, he must have figured he’d attack him in a place he couldn’t just escape. Luckily, Bert had broken it up and escorted Mr. Bender out of the shop before it escalated too much, but John still feared going home that evening. Usually, Y/N would pick him up, but he didn’t trust that his dad wouldn’t wait for him after work, and he didn’t want her to be a part of it in any way. He was not about to put her in danger.

He had one of his coworkers take him home after a rather uncomfortable talk with Bert. He was grateful that the man was understanding, rather than finding Bender’s family drama to be a burden on his business. He wanted to make sure that John felt safe and that his father wouldn’t return. He even posed to call the cops, but John declined for now. Bert insisted that the next instance, he would. He would not have his ‘business ruined or his employees harassed,’ as he had put it. Bender thanked him for his support, surprised that he seemed to care enough to do so, to protect him rather than just fire him and wash his hands of the whole situation. He kept up his tough exterior and showed little-to-no emotion until he got home.

He didn’t bother turning on the main room’s light and slumped on the couch and placed his head in his hands, finally letting it all hit him. The fear and hatred towards his father, the despair in how unfair his whole life had been and how, even when things were turning around, he couldn’t escape his family. He couldn’t contain the sobs that now ripped through his body and shook his shoulders. “John?” He heard Y/N creak gently down the stairs and call his name, voice laced with worry. “John, are you okay?” She asked, turning on the light. Immediately, she could see that he was not. She heard the choked whimper rise in his throat and rushed over to sit next to him. Generally, he hated being touched. Years of being beaten made him hesitant to have another’s hands on him...unless it was in a sexual way, initiated by him. So she hovered for a moment before placing her hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?” He looked up to her wide, worried eyes searching his face. Looking back on it now, this was when the other shoe dropped. This was the exact moment where everything changed in how he saw her and his feelings for her shifted. The fact that she was there for him, big eyes filled with concern, carefully touching him so as not to startle him or remind him of all the unwelcome touches that ‘family’ had meant before, and that he didn’t push her away. He wanted her company and wanted to tell her what happened.

All he was able to get out though, was, “My old man showed up at work,” before his voice became strangled and he broke down again. For a moment, she was startled. She hadn’t expected such a thing to happen, for his dad to show up in public like that, to follow him? It made her fear for his safety, not even realizing that he had told her not to pick him up to protect herself and her mother.

Even though it was a lie, something she couldn’t know for certain, she told him, “Shh...it’s going to be okay. Everything will be alright.” She extended her touch to wrap an arm around his shoulders, and without thinking about it, acting entirely on instinct, he dropped his head into her shoulder.

If I lay my head down on you, would it be, would it be too late?

He thought about it all night. The whole ordeal. He thought every creak or every car door slam would be his dad finding out where he was. He also racked his brain with what happened with Y/N. He didn’t cry in front of anyone. Ever. Not only did he have a reputation to protect, but if he acted like he was unaffected, it was easier to lie to himself and say he wasn’t hurting. But he had let himself hurt with her. He was openly vulnerable and that had never happened before; however, somehow he knew he was safe with her. The first day he met her, she had made him feel that way. She was the only one who reached out to him after he told them about his family, and she had weaseled her way into every facet of his life and showed him she wasn’t leaving. He’d been obnoxious, crude, and had said some nasty, hurtful things to her in the past, but she still fought to be his friend. She even took him into her home and here he was, staring at the concrete ceiling of the basement from his bed that her mother had purchased for him. He tried not to be troublesome to them. Even though he was afraid that something would happen, because that’s how his life worked, and normally he would sabotage it himself rather than feel the pain of rejection from them for something he couldn’t control, he didn’t want to screw this opportunity up. He had a great deal of respect for Y/N’s mother and obeyed all of her rules and kept his nose clean thus far. He knew he had annoyed Y/N and bothered her, but never to the point of her putting true distance between them. She always had his best interests first and kept him on a good path, and even when she was mad at him, he realized that she still cared.

Cuz' you were my protection, from the rain inside

Made me feel loved like the old days, yeah

She loved him, and he realized now that he truly loved her too. But he didn’t know what to do about that. There was no point to it, of course. She was entirely infatuated with Johnson, and he couldn’t go about ruining his opportunity to live here or her trust in him and their friendship. It was his fault, anyway. He should have known since that first day, really. He thought she was a babe, and she was the only one to follow him, to share her lunch with him, to try to make things right. But then he had kissed Claire and liked the challenge and dismissed Y/N. When she reached out to him that first day after, at school, he’d made fun of her for having a ‘crush’ on him (which he knew now he was entirely wrong about), and told her that he’d rather be with Claire. He’d ruined any chance of her ever seeing him that way. And then, when she tried to be friends afterward, he told her that she was a ‘fake bitch.’ He was surprised she would still give him the time of day, let alone a place to live.

But I can't blame you, baby it's me that'd done wrong

Cuz' I broke the skies that shine above.

Of course, that was a mistake, obviously. He and Claire had fizzled out over the first week of summer vacation. She had exciting journeys to go on that only the wealthy elite like her family could afford, and apparently her whole ‘don’t you believe in one-guy, one-girl’ philosophy crumbled when the prospect of suntanned summer flings on beaches was introduced. They were hot and heavy and bent the social landscape while they were in school, but now he was left all alone. It killed him that Brian Johnson was seeing someone and that he, John Bender, was alone. Now that he was reflecting on it in the silence and solitude of his own room, though, it dawned on him that there was a bigger reason that it bothered him. It wasn’t so much that Brian was dating someone and he wasn’t; it was that Brian was dating her. She was two floors above him and belonged to someone else. Hell, he had even helped her get in that relationship. He was constantly grossed out by the two of them flirting or being cuddly, or whatever. Now it all clicked why. He felt like an idiot, denying his own feelings even to himself. He was in love with her, and there was nothing to be done about it.

But I can't live, oh without you, without you,

And it's hard to breathe when you're not near

He tossed and turned for hours, alternating thoughts between the altercation with his dad and his suppressed feelings for Y/N coming to light. As early morning rays dawned through the small window that led to the backyard, he gave up on sleep and wandered upstairs. He bummed around in the kitchen for a bit and was startled out of his skin when he closed the fridge and saw her standing there. “Are you okay? You look terrible.” She said, without hesitation or pleasantries.

“And here I thought I was quite the looker.” He joked, but her disquieted expression didn’t waver. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he told her, apologetically.

“That’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep anyway. I was worried about you,” she replied earnestly.

“Ohhhh. That’s why you look like shit, like me.” He cracked another joke, trying to hide the feelings that were now obvious to him.

“Ha-ha. Very nice,” she said back, sarcastically. “Do you think...do you think you’re going to be okay? Stupid question, I know. Of course not, but--”

“No, I will. It’s just. Well, right now I don’t know too much and I keep expecting him to show up, out of the blue. He did yesterday, y’know? And I’d hate for him to show up here.” He watched as the color drained from her face. In her worrying about him, she clearly had not thought about that possibility or what it would mean for her or her mom. “I don’t think he will!” He quickly added, “I don’t think there’s any danger. It’ll---it’ll be okay, Y/N.” He realized how much he hated scaring her like that, and how much he hated the possibility that he could be putting her in danger.

“I think we should talk to mom, then,” she swallowed hard, “she should know if there’s even a chance he could…” She trailed off, not wanting to think about it and John nodded. They decided to wait for her to wake up by sitting on the couch in silence. Both had too much on their minds to speak, but in that comfortable, safe silence, John was actually able to drift off to sleep. He had stretched out with his feet dangling off the arm of the couch, head originally propped up in one of his hands, but as he nodded off, it dropped down to her thigh and he unwittingly made her into his pillow. She looked down at John, still troubled by everything, but found some solace in the fact that he could have a moment of peace.

But I can't lie here beside you, beside you,

Cuz' you steal my soul when you leave

Set me free baby, set me free.

Of course, her mom was worried that his parents might come after them at any time, if they discovered where they were. She tried to be reasonable and said she would pull some strings to obtain a protection order against them as soon as possible. John was shocked that she didn’t immediately make him pack his bags to protect herself and her daughter. He thought maybe she just didn’t know what kind of people she would potentially be dealing with, so he asked her outright if she wanted him to leave. “No, John, of course not. We are your family now, they’re not going to take you or drive you out.”

“But, Y/M/N, you don’t know what they’re like, what he might do--”

“John, I have lots of experience with this and with people just like your father. Ones that shouldn’t have children but will fight to keep them.”

“I know he doesn’t care about me, but I think with the legal stuff he---” John began, but she interrupted.

“People have all sorts of reasons that they fight it. Shame, money, control. I’ve seen it all. And I am here to protect both of you from that.” And that drew the conversation to a close; fine-point, done. He knew that she was resolved in this and that both she and Y/N would be there for him, to back him up. It was an odd feeling, being held up by people who were strangers to him mere months ago while his own flesh and blood could give two shits about him.

I need someone to hold me, wrap their arms and

Embrace the air I breathe.

What he hadn’t counted on, was the others rallying around him as well. Allison knew all about negligent parents and offered to talk him through his problems, and to take him to more dive-bar concerts to get his mind off of everything. Even Andrew stepped up and offered him to stay at his house if things ever got worrisome at Y/N’s, or if his dad found that location. The one that bothered him most, of course, was Brian. It made him feel extra skeevy to feel the way he did about Y/N when Johnson was being so…nice to him. He knew he was a nice guy naturally, a meek little geek and that this wasn’t a put-on or anything, but that really only made it sting more.

John had come home from work and opened the front door to the two of them curled up on the couch, intertwined. Their relationship had bothered him from day one. At the beginning, Bender always swore that it was just their will-they-won’t-they aggravating crap that annoyed him. Then it bothered him that a dork like Johnson had Y/N wrapped around his finger without even knowing, even trying. To John, she should have been so out of his league. He tried to shrug it off as some cosmic imbalance, like his relationship with Claire; something that just ‘happened,’ but it was clear how head-over-heels Y/N was for Brian. It wasn’t a fluke, and for a while, he rationalized that he was just nauseated by the over-the-top lovey dovey thing they had between him. Now, he knew better. He was instantly filled with jealousy, seeing Brian’s arms looped around her, holding her in a way he would never have the opportunity to. She scooted off his lap (another blow to Bender’s ego) and Brian stood up to approach him.

“Hey,” he started softly, and Bender couldn’t help but feel patronized. Like Johnson thought he was talking to some little kid or something, “Y/N told me what happened. I’m so sorry. That sounds awful.”

“It is.” John agreed, a snapping tone in his voice.

“Well, if you need anything--”

“Oh yeah, I’ll be sure to ask you.” Bender scoffed and pushed past him, heading down to his room in the basement. He didn’t even look at Y/N as Johnson returned to her side, looking shocked and wounded. No doubt he’d receive her comfort, her reassurance. Sickening.

Cuz' you were my shelter,

Now the heart you hold is somebody else's, baby

He was lying on his bed, absentmindedly throwing a tennis ball up into the air and catching it, trying to void the thoughts that overwhelmed him. He was so focused on trying to be unfocused, to blur out the thoughts in his racing mind, that he didn’t hear the footsteps descending the stairs until it was too late to try and hide. It had been over an hour; he thought he was safe. But no, he could hear her boldly coming down the stairs, which meant that she wasn’t concerned about disturbing him.

“John! What in the hell was that all about?” She wasted no time and dove in. He didn’t bother to act coy and pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about, nor did he look at her. Another toss of the ball was all the attention he paid.

“What? Are Johnson’s feelings hurt because I didn’t want his ‘help’?” Bender spit out the last word sarcastically.

“I mean, yeah! At least he made the effort, John!”

“No one asked him to.”

“No, but he did so because he cares about you.” She pressed on, and he finally sat up and looked at her. Arms crossed over her chest, trying to look upset and intimidating and failing miserably. It was like some little animal that carried no threat whatsoever. A duckling, maybe. Almost cute in her failure to be scary.

“No,” he said stiffly, laced with anger, “he cares about you.”

“Fine, but then by extension, he cares about you,” she gestured in his direction.

“Wrong again, Pipsqueak. He only ‘offered’ to put on a show for you. Which, it wasn’t really even an offer. There were no specifics, no actual help being given.” He gave her a blank stare as she glared back, but there was really no flaw in his logic, nor was there any point in trying to convince him otherwise.

After a moment of dead air between them with her trying to size him up and figure out what he wasn’t saying, she said, “Well, whatever. It was rude. You could at least have just said thank you and moved on.”

“Oh, I moved on. Didn’t you see me walk down here?” He scoffed, “And what do I owe him any thanks for? Anyway, I’m sure he’ll live without it. Fuckin’ golden child that he is.” He laid back down and tossed the ball again, trying to dismiss her, but that of course just lit a fire under her.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Johnson has it good. He’s just fine without any applause and gratitude from me. He has both of his parents, and sure they get their panties in a twist if he brings home a B, but are they threatening his life for it? Your life for it?” He reminded her of his father’s vow to find him and bring him down, regardless if Y/N was in the way. She let out a small, surprised gasp, but he continued, “No, they don’t. He has them, he has other friends, he has you--” he caught himself a moment too late and winced at his words.

“John,” her voice softened and she approached his bed. He could feel it dip down as she sat on the edge of it. He threw the ball once more, but gravity didn’t bring it back to him. She had intercepted it, forcing all of his attention to be on her. He looked up reluctantly. “You have me, too, you know. I’m here for you.”

“It’s not the same,” he grunted, sitting up and snatching the ball out of her hand, symbolically taking back his power in this conversation. “I’m sure your ways of ‘being there’ for me are very different from the ways you’re ‘there’ for him.” He rolled his eyes, lying back down with a huff. He didn’t toss the ball again, afraid she’d be able to take it, so he just rolled it between his palms, trying to focus on the sensation of its fuzz on his skin rather than his racing heartbeat or the words that kept unintentionally leaping out of his mouth.

“I don’t know that I really like the implication, John.” She said, that hint of anger returning to her voice, “I’m sorry that you’re single right now and you don’t feel ‘supported’ in that way,” she made air quotes with her fingers, “but it isn’t really fair to bring me into that.”

“It’s not about being single,” he sighed, annoyed.

“Then what? Because there has to be some reason you’re distancing yourself from your friends and lashing out at Brian.”

“Pfft. If I were lashing out at Johnson, he’d fucking know it.”

“John--” she started in a warning tone and he waved her off, “Fine. Don’t tell me. Just sit down here all alone and be angry. Cut us off.” She stood up and made her way to the stairs, “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

As he heard her footsteps retreating, he stopped rolling the ball. Even when she was mad at him, even when he insulted her boyfriend and made seedy implications about the two of them…even then, she still offered to be there for him and didn’t leave without letting him know he could count on her. It should be reassuring, but it only made things worse.

“Fuck,” he whispered tearfully and threw the ball at the wall.

Now I can't make you love me baby, if you don't.

But I stay in love, in love, with you.

Oh yes I do.

It was a weakness, he knew, but he caved anyway. He approached her bedroom door and knocked quietly. She opened it not thirty seconds later. Again, always there to count on. Her eyes looked at him softly, full of understanding and patience. He couldn’t meet them. He brushed past her and into her room, silently. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled after a moment. She looked at him, studied him.

“Do you know what for? Or are you just saying that?” She asked, skeptically. Being emotionally sincere and apologetic was not what Bender was known for. He would tell it to you straight, sure, but the ‘real’ things, he buried deep down and tried to hide.

“I’m not just saying that. I’m sorry for shutting you out and not really talking to you.” He swallowed hard, and just to lighten the mood, “And for making your boyfriend cry.” She just rolled her eyes.

“You did not make him cry. He was a little upset, but I think he was more worried about you than hurt by it.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“And you know, he doesn’t have it as easy as you think he does. I thought…I thought you knew that. That you remembered how bad it was for him.” She looked off, thinking of the memory, and he could tell by the expression on her face that it pained her. “I thought you understood because you’d been there, too.”

“Yeah. I know. But-” he took a deep, shaky breath in, trying to ground himself, “it’s hard to remember when all this other shit is going on, you know? But I didn’t mean to piss you off with it. I just…got all caught up in it, I guess.”

“I know you’re worried, and that things are hard for you. That they’re always hard for you. But, we all mean well. We can only help if you let us, even if it’s in some small way.”

“I know, that’s why I’m sorry. You’ve already done so much for me and…it’s really not fair for me to expect more.” His voice got quieter and quieter the longer he went on, ending in a tone that was just above a whisper. He knew he shouldn’t want more from her, that she’d given so much and that if he said anything, if his feelings just leaked out, he might scare her off. She’d run and he’d be homeless, friendless, and--and without her. He gulped at the thought.

But I can't live, oh without you, without you,

And it's hard to breathe when you're not near

“John?” She noticed the change in his demeanor, his sudden silence. She could see him physically push his emotions down. She’d seen him swallow them many times, bury them in the pit of his stomach where they either brewed into a fiery anger or distilled into nothingness. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.” He shook his head, but didn’t add anything more.

“Is it about your dad? Because you know mom will do everything in her power to--”

“No,” he whispered, “It’s not that. I don’t---I can’t. Just, pay me no mind. I just, I came to apologize and I did.”

“I know you.” She said, voice unwavering, “you also came to talk. I told you that if you changed your mind, to come find me. That’s also why you’re here, right?” He remained silent, and she took his hand gently, “Talk to me.”

He wasn’t sure he could think, let alone talk with her palm gently passing over his, delicately taking his fingers and holding him so lightly, with such kindness. Kindness he wasn’t sure he deserved. All of their relationship, he only did things to push her away, and when she offered him a home, shelter, he had to go and fall in love with her and hide his scummy longing to be with her from her and her boyfriend, who was also eternally nice to Bender. He was the worst, but she integrated him into her family. What could he say to her? Surely the truth would disgust her and make her want nothing else to do with him; he’d completely break her trust. But, he feared, he couldn’t let her go.

Don't you know that I can't, no I can't, live, oh without you,

and it's hard to breathe when you're not near

Oh yes it is!

“I don’t know what to say. Or how to say it. Can we--can we just sit? Be silent for a bit?”

“Sure. I mean, if you think you’re capable. I know you never shut up,” she teased and poked him with her free hand, earning the slightest upward twitch from his lips, indicating a fleeting smile. They just took a seat on her floor, he picked at the rug, debating with himself to tell the truth or to hide in the lie. They stayed like that for a long time before breaking into conversation about something else, something trivial. The air still felt heavy around Bender, burdened with words he left unspoken and feelings he left unknown. No, it was probably better to just stuff them down, just like everything else he ever felt that was ‘inconvenient.’ What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and maybe he’d grow out of those feelings and put them aside.

They readjusted and were lying next to each other, as if they were looking at the constellations, but instead they were staring at her white popcorn ceiling. She had her arms crossed carelessly, comfortably, about her stomach. They talked about everything, but only superficially, so it was really about nothing. He watched her movements and expressions and noted how their shoulders touched, that they were connected, as always. He knew he’d regret simple moments like this, because they only drew him in further. He could feel his heart ache more, particularly when he thought that he’d eventually have to get up and leave, to go to his own room alone and fall asleep in the cold dark, only dreaming of her. For now, he tried to shove that aside and enjoy the moment, to laugh at her story, to act as though everything were normal.

But I can't lie here beside you, besides you,

Cuz you steal my soul when you leave

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

Masterlist

Hey, @itsyouimagines I finally made the thing!

Word Count: 4.4 K

Synopsis: You’ve fallen for your best friend, John Bender, and just when you’re ready to tell him, Claire Standish steals him away. But living well is the best revenge. Songfic inspired by/using lyrics from Paramore’s Misery Business

CW: Angst, swearing, cheating, girl vs. girl rivalry (probably some internalized misogyny tbh), slut-shaming, sexuality

A/N: I feel like the ending fizzled a little. Ran out of steam. But this got away from me in general, so...

I'm in the business of misery

Let's take it from the top

You had known Bender for years and during that time you had to put up with many, many of his girlfriends, hookups, and everything in between. At first, it didn’t bother you any; you were truly just friends. But as you grew up together, your feelings for him started to change. At first, you chalked it up to just puberty and going through traumatic shit together, but your feelings had a tendency to stick around. After awhile, you couldn’t reason that you just found Bender hot any more. Not when his collection, his menagerie of girls left in his wake really started to bother you. But since this new year started, there really hadn’t been anyone. You weren’t sure how he was spending his time if he wasn’t making out with random girls, but you were secretly grateful for it. It had left a lot more of his time open to being with you, which only sucked because it cemented your feelings for him and after bandaging so many cuts from fights, or picking him up in the middle of the night, or having long afternoon talks on the bleachers by the baseball field, you had fallen completely in love with him.

John Bender wasn’t a particularly easy person to love, and that was by design. You had to fight to get near him, then to get to know him, and to keep him. But since he had turned over a new leaf and wasn’t seeing anyone for over three months now, you thought it was maybe time to make your move. Maybe this time, he could actually commit and it would be with you. And then you arrived at school on Monday, March 26th. He pulled you aside from his locker, the same one you met him at every Monday morning to catch up on the weekend, even when you two spent most of a Saturday and/or Sunday together. It was tradition at this point. He had a playful, mischievous gleam in his eye and you knew he was up to something, that he was excited. His small, half-smile made your heart race as he dragged you down the hallway by your elbow to get away from the crowds of Bulldog students. He stopped when you were secluded next to one of the stairwells. “Y/N, I have something to tell you.” He still looked giddy and your heart leapt into your throat. You had assumed that you’d have to make the first move. He was never shy about going for a girl, so you figured if he had wanted to ask you out, he would have done it by now. You were just praying that when you felt it was the right time to ask him, he didn’t say no. But here he was, pulling you into the dark, secret hallway corners to tell you something.

“So, Saturday detention, right?” He began and your excitement dropped. You hadn’t been there, so you knew this conversation would have nothing to do with you.

“Yeah?” You all but grumbled in response, feeling totally deflated.

“Well, there were actually other people there this time. And they weren’t that bad, but like...the craziest thing happened.”

“Vernon burst into flames?”

“One can only hope, but no. So, y’know that preppy-in-pink girl with a stick up her butt, Claire Standish?”

“Yeah… Did she burst into flames?”

“Well...kinda. Because she has the hots for John Bender here.” He waggled his eyebrows and you instantly felt nausea overtake the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You were usually honest with John, so you decided not to choke down your gut-reaction response.

“Ew.” You replied

“No, not ew. Hot. Vernon shoved me in this closet, and--”

“He did what?!” You asked, feeling heat raise to your cheeks. You’d never fought an adult before but today looked like the day you might have to change that.

“That isn’t the point of this story, Y/N/N. So, anyway, at the end of the day, Claire comes and finds me, right? And like, she’s a total priss but have you seen her? I’m not going to say no!”

Yeah, of course you knew what Claire looked like. She was nothing short of gorgeous and probably gave most girls complexes about their own images. She hadn’t really made much of an impression on you and your self-esteem until John, your John, started prattling on about how attractive she was.

She's got a body like an hourglass, it's ticking like a clock

It's a matter of time before we all run out

When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth

So now here you were, standing with your mouth open, brain slowly processing John’s story about making out with Claire fuckin’ Standish.

“Bender, stop,” you begged, “I’m seriously going to puke.” He just laughed, thinking you were joking, but you quickly turned and started walking briskly away to find the nearest bathroom. The nausea was real and you weren’t joking to Bender.

You avoided him for the rest of the day, which was not an easy task. You always spent lunch together, usually saw each other after school, and you were dying to ask him what happened with Vernon and plan how to get that bastard back...but you couldn’t. You couldn’t stand to look at him today, knowing what happened with Claire on Saturday. All of the previous girlfriends and flings had been hard enough to digest, but Claire? You and John made fun of people like her. It was, like, one of your favorite pastimes together! Cutting up the richies who thought they were soo important but didn't have a clue what life was really like. They couldn't possibly have anything in common and he was just pursuing his lust. You knew you shouldn't have waited so long to take the dive.

But, you were wrong in that assessment, too. Bender and Claire kept seeing each other. They even took it public. You never really discussed it with John because you would just spout off about everything wrong with her and he would tell you that you didn't know what you were talking about. It was a touchy topic that was destroying your friendship, so you avoided it. You started seeing him less and less as he started spending all of his time with her, which meant you were incredibly surprised when he started throwing rocks at your window one night late in November.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You opened your window and hissed down at him. If your parents found him there, or worse, if he busted a window, they'd be pissed. Their heads would totally explode.

"Can I come up?" He asked, simply, as if it hadn't been a week since you last saw him. He was too busy being wrapped up in Claire, which you brought up to him.

"Isn't this something your girlfriend could handle?" You spat down sarcastically.

"Yeah, if I had one. That's why I'm here. We broke up and I want to talk to my best friend about it. Now can I come up or am I going to freeze my nuts off down here?" He huffed. You rolled your eyes, but you knew you couldn't resist John, especially when he was vulnerable. You had patched him up too many times to start turning him away now. So you gestured that he could come in through your window and stepped back as he started climbing.

He swung one boot over the sill, then the other and landed on your floor with a slight groan before adjusting himself to stand at his full height. You took a moment to pity yourself and how unfair all this was. He chose to date some polished, popular idiot and now you had to pick up the pieces all because you were a sucker for him. And right now, the soft moonlight making his hair and his cheekbones look even more touchable was only making you more of a fool. You couldn't say no to him, especially looking like that, and you hated it.

"Fine. You're here. So spill; what happened?" You said, trying to sound like you had the upper hand here, but failing.

"Damn, give a guy a minute to adjust. That climb wasn't easy. I'm a smoker, you know." He gave a fake wheeze to emphasize his point and you rolled your eyes.

"Then quit." You deadpanned, but he looked at you with a flat expression. "Fine. Whenever you're ready, I guess, Your Highness."

"I missed this," he smirked. "It's been too long since I've had a dose of your snarky intellect."

"And whose fault is that?!" You snapped back, congratulating yourself for not falling for the compliment. You wanted to stay mad. He hadn't made much of an effort to be a friend these past few months. How you felt about him beyond that was beside the point.

"Ouch. I know." He said, turning his tone soft and looking at you with puppy-dog eyes, "if it's any consolation, I am full of regret now."

"Why, because she dumped your ass?"

"No, because she cheated on me." He said, gruffly and your mouth snapped shut, not able to come back with a jab to that. "So I dumped her. Goddammit, I'm really trying here, Y/N. I came here because I thought I could trust you, that I could come to my best friend with this and get...I don't know. Advice? Reassurance? But I guess I'll fuck right off. You're right, I don't really deserve that from you. Not how I've been ignoring you and putting you on the back burner. But I was at least hopeful."

It was silent for a moment before you could decide on what to say, “I’m sorry, John. I’m not sure how to be super supportive here. I feel for you, I really do. That’s a shitty thing for someone to do to another person, especially you. But you know what I think about Claire. I’ve always said she wasn’t right for you, not good enough for you.” He nodded; he knew exactly how you felt about their pairing and how it had driven you two apart. “But...why don’t you tell me what happened? Get it off your chest.”

“Not much to tell,” he sniffed, “we got into another fight and she told me she’d been getting with some jock, just like I always suspected. Always feared. I don’t really know for how long. But I felt like something was off for awhile...couple of months, maybe? Could have been when it started. And you know me, normally I wouldn’t care. It wouldn’t get to me but...for some reason, this does. Maybe because it lasted so long I just thought...I thought she’d be different.” You bit back anything that sounded like it could be an ‘I-told-you-so’ and offered him to sit on your bed, get comfortable. “I don’t know, I just felt like maybe things were turning around for once but, yet again, I’m another fucking failure.”

You leapt up in front of him right away, “No, John, don’t think that. What she did is not on you. That’s all her and her fucked up choices. You don’t deserve to be treated like that and it doesn’t mean that you failed at anything. You put up with her a lot longer than you should have. That doesn’t make you stupid, it makes you a saint. You have so many good qualities, and it’s her loss.”

“Oh yeah, I’m man-of-the-year over here. Name three. Three good qualities.”

“You’re wicked smart,” you began without hesitation, “you’re witty and talented, you would give the shirt off your back to help someone you care about and with no questions asked, you’re cool as hell, you’re a rebel, you’re interesting, you’re funny...you have amazing hair.” You joked at the end and made him chuckle. “There’s a lot of great things about you. You’re...amazing.” You looked meaningfully into his dark eyes and scanned them to see if you made any kind of an impact. You couldn’t discern the expression you were getting back though, and you both sat silently again, the nothingness becoming almost deafening.

“That’s more than three.” He said after an excruciatingly long time and you smiled and exhaled. He took your hands in his, “Thank you.” After a beat though, he continued with, “That doesn’t necessarily sound very friendly though.”

Your eyes widened at the realization that he had caught on. ‘Oh shit oh shit oh shit--’ you thought, in an endless cycle. You couldn’t really hide anymore. After all, you had wanted to tell him around the time he started dating Claire and your feelings had not subsided since then. So, you swallowed hard and gathered the courage to tell him the truth. “I suppose it’s not. Probably because I’ve wanted to be more-than-friends for a long time now. Since before Claire, even.” You said, giving a shrug, your hands still in his. Neither of you had pulled away yet.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You let me waste my time with Claire--”

“To be fair, I constantly told you not to waste your time with Claire.”

“Well, yeah, but you didn’t tell me it was because I had you as an option. I’d never have bothered if I knew I had someone so...perfect...in my corner.” His deep brown eyes bore into you. “If I thought there was even a chance with you---” he just drifted off, not really sure how to continue with words, so instead he crashed his lips into yours.

I waited eight long months, she finally set him free

I told him I couldn't lie, he was the only one for me

Normally, you would have been worried that you were in a position to be just the ‘rebound’ girl, but you and John talked for a long time that night and established a years-long timeline of developing feelings for each other. You had both had your flings to try to forget the best friend you could never be with, not knowing that all along you felt the same. Now that it was out in the open, you two made up for lost time.

Simply put, you were the best girlfriend Bender had ever had. He lasted so long with Claire because it was something new and exciting, and even passionate. They were constantly fighting and making up; which was something he could also get with you, because you wouldn't put up with his shit, but it wasn't about silly things like embarrassing you by not wearing the right thing to a party or saying the wrong thing to one of your friends. And another key difference is that you never turned your back on him like Claire did. You worked through each and every one of those fights, rather than just ignoring it and smothering it with kisses until it festered and exploded as something bigger. You had been in each other’s lives for so long now and in so many capacities that you weren’t worried about losing him or drifting apart; you would always find a way to make it work.

Two weeks and we had caught on fire

She's got it out for me, but I wear the biggest smile

One of the unexpected benefits of dating John was seeing Claire’s reaction to the two of you walking hand in hand through the hallways together at school. She had probably expected that she would have wrecked him. That he would be some sobbing mess that would avoid her and her crew for weeks. Instead, he boldly walked by with you and changed his position to snake an arm around your waist as you passed her. Without words, he declared that he had moved on and that he was yours now, the way it always should have been. You caught Claire’s eye as her face reddened and flashed her a smile, letting her know that you had won.

Of course, the important part was being with John and being able to finally express your love for him after pining for him for so long, but you couldn’t deny that it felt good to have the upperhand on Claire Standish. She had been given everything in life and you had struggled and fought and been shit on by life too many times to count, but now you had something she didn’t. And you didn’t have to do any shady, underhanded stuff to get it, either. That made you proud. While you told John the truth, that she wasn’t good enough for him, you didn’t go out of your way to break them up. She chose to fuck it all up, and now you had the spoils. Her loss.

Whoa, I never meant to brag

But I got him where I want him now

Whoa, it was never my intention to brag

To steal it all away from you now

But God, does it feel so good

Bender confided in you that Claire had been jealous of you and you were the topic of plenty of fights, especially early on in the relationship. It didn’t help that he never gave you up like she demanded. But she knew the truth all along and could see the obvious that you and Bender were oblivious to: that you were in love with each other and made for each other. You had had his back for so long and knew him in a way she never could. You had the ability to break down his walls and see the real, vulnerable John; she never could. While there had been some trust and care in their relationship, he was never really open with her. Not in the way he was with you.

You took great joy in kissing Bender whenever you could, of course, but his lips always tasted just a little bit sweeter when Claire was around to see it. You knew he felt the same way as he would smirk into the kiss when he could hear her huff or her heel-clad feet clack away down the hallway. Even more amusing was when her relationship with the jock strap she left Bender for blew up in her face and she would catch the sight of you and Bender in the hallways together and know what she was missing. She had never paid either of you any attention before that Saturday detention back in March, but you were sure that if she could, she’d go after him again now. Fat chance.

'Cause I got him where I want him now

And if you could, then you know you would

'Cause God it just feels so

It just feels so good

You were right, of course. Now that Claire was single, she made a desperate move to get John back. She would turn up in places where he’d be, but didn’t have much luck not finding you there as well, arms wrapped around him. However, she did find him one day after school before you two were supposed to meet up. The way John told it, she begged for forgiveness and told him she wanted a second chance.

“You know I’m with Y/N.” He told her, giving her a hard stare. “You’ve seen my tongue down her throat enough times to know that we’re together, princess.”

“Ugh. It can’t mean anything, John. C’mon, what we had was special. I made a mistake--”

“Screwing someone else is not a mistake.”

“I didn’t...you know I don’t---”

“I know what you did and didn’t do with me. That means nothing applied to some meathead. I’m doing better off without you.”

“Is that what this is about? I wouldn’t fuck you but she will?”

“Don’t act like you know Y/N or think that that’s some kind of insult towards her. You were right from the beginning: I couldn’t really commit to you because I was in love with her! Sex has nothing to do with it.”

“So you’re not getting any from her either? Tch--” she had poor timing to choose such words as you came up behind her at that moment.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” You purred behind her as you approached and threw your arms around John, turning to eye her up and down. “I think you should run around now, Claire.”

“Some people have no class,” she huffed as she started to walk away.

“And some people have no boyfriends,” you said in a cartoonishly ‘innocent’ voice and shrugged. Bender burst out laughing, both at your statement and your caricature.

Second chances they don't ever matter, people never change

Once a whore, you're nothing more

I'm sorry, that'll never change

You had been dating Bender for three months now, and it was going swimmingly. You had already loved the person he was, before you got together. But you were surprised at how much deeper your love had grown for him. It didn’t seem possible, but you knew you loved John more and more every day and would do anything for him. It had now been about a year since Claire had entered your lives. And while the situation surrounding her was unfortunate, it did serve as the catalyst to you and John getting together. Without her significant failure, you two might not have been honest about your feelings for each other. Her loss was definitely your gain.

“Well well, what do we have here?” You asked as Claire approached you after one of your classes. She had come alone, which would be a big mistake if she wanted to start something. You were sure you had been in many more fights than the Homecoming Queen.

“Y/N, I just wanted to say I’m sorry and see if we could move on.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For everything. The way I treated John--”

“You mean cheating on him?” You asked, eyebrow raised and giving her a cold, dead stare. You would never forgive her for making him feel unwanted, like a failure. Even if it had sent him running into your obviously open arms. She swallowed hard and clenched her jaw in response.

“Yes.” She admitted, through gritted teeth.

“And for thinking you could steal him away from me, too?”

“I--” She was going to try to deny it, even though you were there, but then thought better, “Yes, that too.”

“Oh, or are you sorry for basically telling John I’m a slut and implying that the only reason he would be with me is because I put out?” She looked at you with wide, shocked eyes. Even though she had indeed said such things, she didn’t like it brought back up to her so crudely.

“Look, Y/N, I just want to move on. You and John are really good together and I’m glad you’re happy--”

“We are. You’re right, we’re good together and happy. But I don’t accept whatever lame-ass excuse for an ‘apology’ this is, princess. You can move on without my benevolent forgiveness, and I’ll still be happy with John, no matter what you think, feel, or want.” You took that as your opportunity to dramatically exit and stormed away from her. You weren’t up for playing her games. You were sure she’d spin it to her popular friends that she tried to break bread and you were just a bitch back, but you didn’t care. You didn’t need her approval and she certainly didn’t deserve your forgiveness for anything she did.

And about forgiveness, we're both supposed to have exchanged

I'm sorry, honey, but I passed it up, now look this way

Well, there's a million other girls who do it just like you

Looking as innocent as possible to get to who

They want and what they want, it's easy if you do it right

Well I refuse, I refuse, I refuse

You and Bender had now been going strong for two years. While it was fun lording it over Claire in the beginning, she was just a blip on the timeline of your relationship and had all but faded as the years had gone by. The two of you didn’t think of her very often, but she came to mind today. Despite the odds stacked against you, you and John had both made it and were wearing matching graduation gowns on a balmy early June day. You helped him adjust his tie that he would be wearing underneath his gown just before he zipped it up. The ceremony would start soon and you both would be walking across that stage and earning your diplomas. One of your conversations had been about what you wanted to achieve, what you dreamt of doing, and in that conversation, you realized that you were your own biggest barriers to those dreams. So, you both buckled down and encouraged each other to do better. Of course, life didn’t stop being shitty and you had to talk John off the ledge many times when his parents tried to convince him that he was a lost cause, but you both had scraped the grades together to get to this point. Today, you would turn the tassels and become Shermer High Alums.

I watched his wildest dreams come true

Not one of them involving you

Just watch my wildest dreams come true

Not one of them involving--

The principal called your full name and you walked across the stage, distinctly hearing John’s whistles and shouts above the bustling crowd and the pounding of your own pulse. You had truly done it. After the ceremony, you all but hopped into John’s arms and he swept you up in a romantic, electrifying kiss. You had escaped Shermer High with an actual diploma and now you and John could get out of this two-bit town and make something bigger together. Over the years, you had been through a lot, but it was always together and you knew that you would continue to work it out and all you needed was John.

Whoa, I never meant to brag

But I got him where I want him now

Whoa, it was never my intention to brag

To steal it all away from you now

Masterlist

Next Chapter

Angsty friend-fiction for reader and Bender this time around. Follow-up to New Week, New Friendships. I guess it’s becoming more of a series at this point. 

Word Count: 1.8k (ish)

CW: Child abuse/physical abuse, verbal fighting, swearing/slurs, trauma, parent leaving

*~~~~* 

 It only took until Sunday night before Bender called you. It was 8 o’clock at night and all he said was “I need to get out of here.” You replied that you’d be right there and headed to his house, trying your best to recall the route. You had to turn around twice to correct yourself, but you eventually arrived. You were about to get out of the car when he rushed out of the house with a small bag. You also noticed that he was wearing sunglasses. In the dark of night. That wasn’t a good sign.

He quickly opened the passenger-side door and got into the seat, tossing his bag on the floor and snapping his seatbelt on. “Just go,” he commanded gruffly and you complied, accelerating out of his neighborhood. You let him have a few moments of silence to collect himself.

“What happened?” You finally inquired. Bender turned to you, still wearing the sunglasses. 

“It doesn’t matter. I just needed to get out of there. I wasn’t sure who else to call. You drive and you gave me your number.” 

“That’s fine.” You said, softly, as if talking to a wounded animal. “But I think you should tell me what happened. It isn’t normal to be wearing sunglasses at 8:30 at night, John. Especially in April. It still gets dark early.” You halted at a stoplight and turned to look at him more fully. You reached up to his face slowly to grab the glasses and he flinched back from your hand. You felt the guilt set in from overstepping his boundaries.

“You’re right.” He said, removing them himself and you could see the darkening circle under his eye, indicating where his father had hit him. “Is that better?” He asked you bitterly and you tried not to noticeably flinch. He indicated that the light had turned green and you started to drive forward again.

“John…” You started.

“You can just take me to Mike’s. It’s fine. I just need a ride. Thanks.” 

“Are you sure? I mean, I think my mom would understand if you came to my house--”

“I’m not one of your fucking frogs, Y/N.” Bender snapped,  “I don’t need you to rescue me.”

“Jesus. I never said you were. You’re a person. That’s even more important, John.” You made a motion to pull over and just hoped he wouldn’t bail out of the car when you stopped, that he’d listen to you. “Please, let me help.”

“I am.” He scoffed. “I already asked for your help, isn’t that enough? Just take me to Mike’s.”

“John--”

“Stop calling me that! You don’t really know me. Just call me ‘Bender’ like everybody else.” He lashed out.

You shut your eyes and absorbed his words, “I know. But I really do want to. If you prefer I call you Bender, I will, but...”

“Jesus. Grow a spine. You can’t possibly be this nice all the time.” He snorted with derision. “You sound like a completely fake bitch, you know that, right?”

You bit your lip, his words stinging you and leaving their mark. “Bender,” you began, unsure, “I get that most people in your life don’t give a shit and that you have to act like you don’t care but don’t do that to me. Don’t put that on me or think I won’t be any different. We’ve been hanging out for a couple of weeks now, and--”

“So you think that means you know all about me? Guess what, princess, it doesn’t.”

“I know.” You replied softly, “But it’s made me want to know you more. I really like you, John. I see that person underneath that you try to cover up and protect. Please, don’t run from me. You don’t have to.”

“What if I want to?” He looked at you seriously with narrowed eyes. “Sorry, Y/N,” he laughed humorlessly, “but I don’t trust anybody. I’d say don’t try to take it personal, but it is personal. I don’t trust you.”

“Why not?” 

“Because, it’s fucking weird. You just decided out of the blue to be my best friend” he spat in a mocking tone that landed another blow on you. “I feel like I’m some sort of pet project for you. Something for you to feel better about yourself.” You couldn’t catch the tear before it slipped down your cheek, “Oh, you’re going to cry now?” He scoffed

“It’s just that, I feel terrible making you feel that way. I’m sorry.” You said, turning your gaze out the windshield to try to gain your composure. “I never meant to---It doesn’t matter. I’m really sorry. I’ll just take you to Mike’s. How do you get there?” Your tone was now more even and flat, trying to hide more tears welling in your eyes.

Bender wasn’t used to someone not yelling back at him, especially when he had hurt them. He was shocked that you seemed genuine in your apology, that he had maybe misread you or your intentions. That didn’t mean he’d apologize right away. That would be a show of weakness, and he’d be damned if he were going to do that. He weighed the options of just telling you where to drive, of saying something else, or maybe just getting out of the car. He still felt suspicious of your intentions. He knew he had real friends. His group had gotten him through a lot. He knew he could stay with Mike or Scorch at times like this; but he had also called you. He wasn’t sure if it was because you had just given him your number so the option was fresh in his mind, but he figured it was probably because he knew you would pick up and get him. He could feel the weight hanging in the air, you waiting for him to speak. But he still wasn’t sure what to do.

“Bender?” You asked, breaking the heavy silence.

“You,” he looked up at you with pained eyes, “you can call me ‘John.’ It’s fine.” He looked away quickly, almost pouting as you gave him a small smile.

“Okay. John, how do you get to Mike’s?”

*~~~~*

You pulled your car up to Mike’s curb; his house wasn’t quite what you expected. Bender’s house had suited your imagination from his depictions of it, but Mike’s house was nicer than you could picture for a friend of John’s. Just given all of the smack he had talked about “richies,” but you imagined that the more middle-class home before you wasn’t what he meant and he pictured people like Claire and Andrew to live in a mansion or something. ‘He’s probably right about that, too,’ you thought. 

“You want to come inside with me for a minute?” He asked you softly.

“If you want me to.” You really wanted it to be his choice, after you’d pushed him before. 

He chuckled, “I just think Mike would be glad to see you. He’s probably having withdrawals, not seeing you at lunch all this week.” You quirked an eyebrow, looking at him quizzically. You had no idea what he was talking about. Mike was definitely the most accepting member of his group, but you doubted your presence made that much of an impact.

“No, that’s okay. I’d go if you wanted me to, but not just for Mike,” you tried to laugh it off, “But, uh, John, if you ever need another place to stay, you really can come to my house.”

“Oh, I’m sure your mom would be thrilled if you brought a guy home to sleep over. Especially a good-for-nothing punk like me.” He sniffed. He played it off like it was a joke, but you knew that’s how he saw himself. You knew he didn’t really like to be touched, so you turned your fingers over themselves in your lap for a moment, considering how to word your next thoughts.

“I really don’t think she’d mind. I don’t want to start another fight or upset you again or anything but...she knows, John.” 

“Knows what?” He tried to shove down the look of panic on his face.

“I mean, she doesn’t know everything, but she’s in social work. She knows something about your home life.” You confessed, then quickly added, “She hasn’t looked you up or anything like that. I just mentioned that your home life sucks and when I took you lunch, I’m pretty sure she put two-and-two together.”

“So that’s why she was so nice.” He said, with almost an air of accusation.

“Not entirely. But somewhat, yeah, I guess. I mean, I told her that everyone’s parents there seemed kind of shitty. I think she’d act the same to anyone else from Breakfast Club.” That seemed to reassure him a bit, but he still looked panicked, trapped. “We’ve had other kids stay with us before. One of my friends back in the city once, too, before we moved here to Shermer” You said. You avoided his piercing gaze that you knew was on you.

After a few moments, he spoke, even though it was with disbelief, “So this whole thing isn’t an act, huh? It’s actually how you are? Both of you?” You weren’t sure what he meant and looked at him with a puzzled expression and he continued, “It’s not like, rich white guilt or whatever. You’re just nice people?” He was still skeptical.

“I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t necessarily define it that way, but there’s no like, ulterior motive or anything, no. We just try to help if and when we can.” You shrugged.

“To make up for your dad ditching?” He said. 

“Maybe,” you laughed a little, trying to find humor in what he said.

“Sorry, it’s just that most people I know don’t do shit like that. It’s always been watch-out-for-yourself, you know?” You nodded in acknowledgement to his statement.

“Well, what about Mike?” You asked, “You knew you could come here and that he’d help. That he wouldn’t just look out for himself, right?”

“I guess so, but that’s different. I’ve known him for years. It took a long time to get to that point.”

“Different strokes for different folks,” you cracked, echoing what he said about his relationship with Claire and your crush on Brian. 

“Yeah, I guess.” He chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. The offer, not my great advice.” He quipped. He began to get out of the car and you watched as he knocked on the door of Mike’s house. You could see Mike, all clad in black from the doorway as Bender spoke to him, then gestured toward you in your car. Mike waved and you waved back, before turning your car back on and preparing to drive home.