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crushed-like-an-ant · 3 years ago

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how to calm down an angry billionaire

Step 1. Deflect.

Peter was good at deflection. Always had been. It was a skill he'd picked up after people constantly tried to ask him about his feelings after his parents died, then again when Ben died. Any questions he didn't want to answer quickly turned into an animated conversation about whatever his mind thought of first (there had been that awkward time he'd asked a fellow orphan how their parents were), an apology and fast excuse to get the hell out of there (mostly worked except when he was panicking and the best he could come up with was a cheese making competition, that had caused a lot of questions Peter would rather never deal with again), or just flat out running away (sometimes he ran into poles or walls which was always a bit embarrassing given he was literally Spider-man). Sometimes Peter had to use all three options. So Peter knew when Tony finally decided to have the dreaded conversation about the whole not-my-first-time-holding-up-a-building thing, he would be able to deflect it. Or so he thought. Turns out, Peter had drastically underestimated the sheer stubbornness of Tony Stark.

It was a lab day, around three weeks after the incident where Peter and Tony had been stuck under a building and Peter stupidly let slip that he’d held up a building before. Peter had thought Tony had forgotten about his words. He was comfortable, tentatively confident and optimistic that it wouldn't be brought up again. He had no idea how wrong he was.

"Hey kid?" Tony said, cutting the comfortable silence between them as they worked, tone slightly hesitant. Peter should've picked up on it. He should've realised. But he'd grown complacent. So Peter ignored the dread pooling in his stomach and lifted his head from the mess of wires in front of him to look at Tony.

"Mr Stark?" he replied with a smile that Tony didn't return. Nor did he try to tell Peter to call him Tony. And that was how Peter knew something was wrong. Nerves skittered down his spine, clod fingers of dread snaking around his neck as nervous energy filled him and he began to tap on the desk. Anything to distract himself from the sorrow and worry shining in his mentor's brown eyes.

"Look kid, uh, I," Tony fumbled for words. Shit. This was bad. If Tony Stark was struggling to say something, you knew it was serious. Peter just stared at him in silence,unsure of what to say, anxiety coursing through his veins at the grimace that clouded Tony's features. What could possibly have gotten him into this mood? Had Peter done something wrong? Was he gonna, oh god, was he gonna take the suit? "Pete, I need to know what you meant when we were under the building," Tony finally managed to say, Peter relaxing. Oh. That was all?

"I just meant that I'd lifted a lot of heavy things," Peter half-lied, looking Tony straight in the eyes and lying to his face, mindful to make sure his tells were carefully under control. Training with Daredevil - despite Tony's misgivings about Double D - had been one of the best decisions Peter had ever made. He felt a twinge of guilt as he lied to Tony but it's not like he could tell the truth. And he wasn't really lying. Just withholding the entire truth. He shrugged nonchalantly, "Anyways, you reckon you can help me with this? I'm stuck. My mind kinda decided to go and die on me." Peter chuckled quietly. Tony wasn't laughing.

"I want to believe you, kid," Tony told him, "I really do. But I can't. You had a panic attack under there. What aren't you telling me Peter? Whatever it is, I'm here for you. You can tell me anything. And I don't want to pressure you into telling me anything until you're ready but I-I just-I need to know what happened. I need to know what you meant." Peter's resolve almost broke as Tony's voice broke. No. He couldn't tell Tony. Not only would Tony think he was weak, but Peter knew that Mr Stark would blame himself because he took the suit. Peter couldn't let him do that. Option one had failed him, so it was onto option 2. Make a quick exit without raising any suspicions. Yeah, he didn't think that was gonna work. Worth a shot though.

"Hey, Mr Stark," Peter said after checking his watch and pretending to look shocked at the time, "I'm really sorry but I have to go. I promised Ned we'd work on our Bio project tonight and I'm already seven minutes late." Mr Stark raised an eyebrow and pulled up a picture of Ned on his holiday in California.

"Nice try kid," Tony replied drily. Peter sighed, shoulders slumping. Time for option three then.

"I-I don't really know how to tell you, uh," Peter deliberately stuttered, guilt eating him up inside as he put on an act for Tony. For option three to work, Peter had to catch Tony off guard otherwise he'd react too quickly and lock the tower down. His act work, Tony's features softening and body relaxing.

"It's okay, bambino, take your time." And if that didn't make him feel like a horrible person, nothing would. Peter stood and padded over to some machinery near the exit, pretending to be trying to busy himself as he worked himself up to answering Tony when he was actually getting closer to the door.

"I, uh," Peter stumbled. Tony was now far away enough that Peter could easily run without being grabbed and stopped. The door was right there. Peter took his opportunity. He ran. Out the door, down the hallway, flying to the elevator. Pressing the button frantically, Peter groaned when nothing happened. Great. Tony had stopped the elevators. Sighing, Peter pulled the mask from his pocket and pulled it over his head, sprinting at the window. Peter burst through the window in a shower of glass, activating his web shooters as he fell, quickly shooting a web and catching himself. And he was swinging, swinging, swinging. Allowing himself to smile at his escape, Peter was unprepared when he was grabbed from behind by two cold metal hands. Thanks for nothing spidey sense. Tony flew a sulking Peter back through the broken window and into one of the meeting rooms, setting him down firmly in a seat. Peter crossed his arms, pouting as he pulled off his mask, Tony's Iron Man suit unfolding around him and the man stepping out, an unimpressed look painted across his features.

"You done deflecting yet?" Tony asked, a single eyebrow raised. Damn. Peter wished he could do that. Alas, no amount of practising in front of a mirror had ever given him the talent to lift one eyebrow and not look like a demented monkey. Time for a different strategy. Deflection had failed him. But Peter would not go down easy.

~~~

Step 2. Deny.

The unfortunate thing about this step was that Peter would always over-deny. He would deny everything or nothing. There was no in between. For example, he was once denying eating the last bit of chocolate and ended up accidentally telling May his name wasn't Peter and that he was an alien from outer space with a severe lettuce allergy. Don't ask. Peter really didn't want to relive that trauma. So although Peter always tried his best with denial, it never really worked out in his favour. Honestly, it was through sheer dumb luck that he managed to keep Spider-Man a secret from his friends and family for so long. It was probably some good karma that had been waiting for the perfect moment to help him out. It was a little late but hey, better late than never right?

"No," Peter blurted in a panic. Shock splashed across Tony's face as he folded his arms.

"Kid, you know you can tell me anything, right?" Tony told him gently.

"No," Peter exclaimed again, hurt painting the billionaire's face. "I mean, yes." Shitshitshitshitshit. Peter was an idiot. He had to deny everything - but not everything, Peter, remember the lettuce incident - so Mr Stark wouldn't find out. But Peter had always been shit at denial.

"Look, I know this is probably hard for you to talk about," Tony continued on, oblivious to Peter's internal panic, "but I won't judge you. I love you, bambino. You know that right? And I'll support you no matter what but I can't help you if you don't let me."

"No," Peter said. It was the only word he knew. Any more and he would have another lettuce incident or he'd end up rambling the truth. He couldn't do that. So his current vocabulary was limited to 'no', 'no', 'no' with a side of 'no'. Which wasn't suspicious at all. Totally.

"What the hell, kid?" Tony asked, mostly confused, slight irritation colouring his tone. Peter was hyper-aware of the thundering beat his heart was drumming to, the way Tony's slightly picked up when he said 'no', the sweat covering his body like a second skin. Tony's sigh sounded like a bomb to his sensitive ears, the sharp intake of breath before he spoke like a blaring alarm. "What did you mean when you said it wasn't your first time?"

"I didn't," Peter responded, brain not quite computing, "nothing happened." Tony's gaze narrowed. Shit. Was Tony going to take the suit if he didn't tell him? But Peter just couldn't tell him. He couldn't.

"Fucking hell Peter, just tell me dammit!" Tony exclaimed, running a hand through his messy brown hair in frustration. Peter knew - with the certainty that he knew his own name or the colour of his eyes - that denial had failed him. Time for Peter's next strategy.

~~~

Step 3. Stretch the truth.

When Peter's other strategies failed him, he turned to stretching the truth. It was simple really, just take the truth and dial it down from boiling hot to freezing cold and give it to the person on a silver platter with a charmingly innocent - and only slightly nervous - smile. Half-truths were easy to fool people with. Someone had said that the best lies were the ones based on truth. Peter couldn't remember who exactly had said that. He had never been very good with that sort of stuff, unlike MJ. So although stretching the truth was Peter's third option, he'd always been surprisingly good at it. People seemed to believe he was too innocent to be able to lie. Which was absurd because he'd spent ten years living with his Aunt and her terrible cooking and she still didn't know he hated her walnut date loaf.

"Okay," Peter conceded quietly and the rage slowly left Tony as he deflated like a balloon, looking smaller without all the fury. Peter sat down in front of Tony. "It was back in the fight with The Vulture and he threw a wall at me. I caught it and threw it back at him but he dodged it with his super awesome flying skills." Tony looked him straight in the eyes for a few seconds, Peter holding his gaze before Tony leaned forward.

"Cut the bullshit," Tony whispered, dangerously quiet, tightly compressed anger stemming from worry swimming in his brown eyes. "A wall wouldn't stay together if it was thrown, caught and thrown back. Even then, you wouldn't say it wasn't your first time while holding a building up unless you'd held up a fucking building already. And you wouldn't have a panic attack from holding up a building about something thrown at you. So stop lying to me, Peter Benjamin Parker." Damn. The full name. Peter released a heavy exhale, knowing he was beaten. He had to tell Mr Stark the truth.

"It actually was in the fight with the Vulture," Peter began, "so I wasn't lying about that. And I did have to catch a few walls." Tony raised his eyebrows at Peter's weak attempts at defending himself. "I went to his warehouse and he sent his flying suit at me. It wasn't particularly good at attacking 'cause it hadn't even touched me. I said that and Toomes told me it wasn't trying to." Tony inhaled sharply, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, Peter trying not to listen to how Tony's hands still hit each other gently. Enhanced hearing sucked sometimes. "He had directed the suit to take out all the supports in the building." Tony gasped, expression contorted into one of such extreme guilt and sorrow that Peter wanted to shelter Tony from the world for the rest of his days because goddammit he's seen too much and been through enough and couldn't the world just give him a fucking break for once? No one deserved one more than Mr Stark did.

"I took the suit," Tony whispered, voice thick with emotion, "I took the suit. It was your only protection, damn it, and I took the fucking suit!" Tony was yelling now, self-hatred and rage dancing in his wild brown eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Mr Stark," Peter tried to tell him.

"How?" Tony scoffed, laughing bitterly, "How was this not my fault. I took the suit and you got hurt because of my mistake."

"It's okay, Mr Stark, you didn't know," Peter said.

"But I should've," Tony replied, "I should've known." Peter's features hardened, spine turning to steel. He wouldn't let Mr Stark blame himself for this. The blame was on Toomes and only on Toomes.

"Did you pilot the Vulture suit?" Peter asked firmly.

"What?"

"Did. You. Pilot. The. Vulture. Suit." Peter repeated, staring defiantly at Tony.

"No, of course not," Tony replied, slight confusion clinging to his features.

"And did you cause the building to fall?" he continued.

"No."

"Then it's not your fault," Peter told him simply.

"Kid, I shouldn't have taken the suit," Tony began, dropping his head into his hands. He opened his mouth to continue but Peter cut him off before he could say anything equally self-deprecating.

"Maybe," Peter allowed, "but then I wouldn't found out I was strong enough to get back up again. 'If you're nothing without the suit then you shouldn't have it'. You told me that. I thought the suit made Spider-man and I lost sight of what Spider-man really meant. God, I started out in a fricking onesie. That's what Spider-man represents. Not a hero with a multi-million dollar suit, but someone with nothing but their will to save others. Without you taking the suit, I never would've remembered everything Spider-man stood for.; With great power comes great responsibility. You gave me that tough love moment and I needed it. Now it's my turn to dish out some tough love for you." Peter took a deep breath. "You, Tony Stark, are being a fucking idiot. The blame of what happened in the past lies with Adrian Toomes, and Adrian Toomes alone. So stop this self-deprecating bullshit and use your fucking brain for once in your life. It. Was. Not. Your. Fault." Tony looked up at him, the self-hatred drained from his features, a slight smile adorning his lips which Peter returned.

"You're right, kid," Tony said, "when did you get this wise?"

"I've always been this wise, Mr Stark, I just wanted you to feel better about your lack of common sense," Peter joked, Tony chuckling.

"It wasn't my fault," Tony repeated. Peter tilted his head, confused at the strange undertone in Tony's voice only to see a fire lit in his caramel eyes. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

And it was then that he knew he fucked up.

~~~

Step 4. Try some breathing exercises.

Peter had always been shit at breathing exercise. He just didn't have the patience for them. While he was breathing, someone could be getting raped in an alley, a shop could be getting robbed, or a kid could be getting beat up. So - despite the constant reminders to just try the damn breathing exercises for the love of god - Peter had never done anything of the sort. How could he? With his enhanced senses, it was impossible to relax. Would you be able to sit there and breathe while screams rang in your ears and sobbing pounded in your mind? Naturally, this meant that Peter wasn't the most experienced when it came to said breathing exercises. Maybe he should've practised. Life always had a funny way of throwing Peter in the deep end headfirst and tied to a ten ton weight and expecting him to swim. However, he had once read in a self-help book that breathing exercises were good for calming people down, so he decided to hit fuck it for the sixth time in the last 48 hours and try it out. I mean, it was that or release an angry billionaire in a metal suit decked out with the most advanced weapons in the world (except for maybe what HYDRA had because honestly Peter knew better than to underestimate them and he mildly respected their cockroach-like survival skills) who was hell-bent on revenge and gave zero fucks into the world. The second option was beginning to sound quite tempting, Peter would be honest.

"Mr Stark, you need to calm down," Peter told the man gently, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony tilted his head up to look at Peter - rage splashed across his face, tension lining his body - before he shrugged off Peter's hand and jerked into a standing position. And the room was suffocating, suffocating, suffocating, because damn had Tony always been that scary. A cloud of darkness surrounded Tony, filling the lab up and winding itself slowly around Peter's neck, stealing the breath from his lungs. Tony stormed through the lab, footsteps like thunder, anger crackling like lightning. Desperately, Peter followed the billionaire. "Mr Stark, Mr Stark, please calm down," Peter pleaded with him.

"No," Tony spoke, voice cold and flat, tone totally devoid of emotion, so totally opposite to the fury painting his entire body like a second skin. "No I will not calm down, Peter. He dropped a fucking building on you. He deserves to die."

"But you don't deserve to live with the guilt of killing him," Peter begged, tugging at Tony's sleeve in a desperate attempt to stop the man from his warpath. Peter knew he could easily overpower Tony. But he was hoping it wouldn't come to that. "Trust me, I know how it feels to want revenge, I really do, but you have to let it go. Please, Mr Stark."

"Dammit Peter, he hurt you!" Tony shouted, whirling around to face Peter, features twisted and manically furious. "He hurt you a-and I wasn't there and you had to deal with being crushed by a fucking building and then you got up and kept fighting because of that sick son of a bitch so I swear to fucking god I will murder him." Tony's eyes held a frenzied wildness in them, chest heaving up and down, Peter could hear his heart racing.

"Mr Stark, try some breathing," Peter said out of desperation, completely and utterly out of ideas. "Just breath. In and out, in and out." Tony's momentary surprise shocked him out of his anger, confusion flickering across his face momentarily before the anger was back, stronger than ever. Tony pivoted on his heel and walked away from Peter, heading towards where he kept his suits and leaving a heavy sense of dread pooling in Peter's stomach and twisting his insides in knots. So breathing hadn't worked. Thanks for nothing self-help books.

~~~

Step 5. Hack the most advanced AI in the world.

When in doubt, do something potentially illegal. A mugger had once told Peter that after Peter caught her trying to rob a young man. That lady had been fucking badass. It was honestly a shame she's gone to prison but a criminal is a criminal. Turns out the lady had been responsible for a string of high-end bank and jewellery robberies. Peter wondered how she was doing. Probably not well, considering how shit the American jail system is. Peter always tried to find alternative ways to stop criminals, only really sending in the pedophiles, rapists, murderers and the more professional robbers. Sometimes people had no choice in the shitty hand life had dealt them and goddamn if Peter didn't get that. People were just pushed and pushed until they were left with nothing but desperation. Maybe if the government or any of the fucking American systems were better or did their jobs properly then people wouldn't have to steal just to keep themselves and their families from starvation. Maybe Toomes wouldn't have started his alien tech business and then none of this would have even happened. Peter wouldn't be in this situation right now. And Peter was now out of options. He had an angry billionaire on his hands and absolutely no idea what to do. So, he took the lady's advice and decided to do something potentially illegal. He hacked the most advance AI in the world. (What, like it's hard?)

"Hey FRI?" Peter called with a wince.

"Yes, Peter," the AI replied.

"I'm really sorry," Peter told her before bringing up FRIDAY's code. (A/N - I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT COMPUTERS SO THIS IS GONNA BE SOME VAGUE, QUESTIONABLE AF HACKING) Fingers flying across the keys of the laptop, Peter bit his lip in concentration, brows furrowed. He had to hurry and shut down Mr Stark's suits before he reached them and left to murder Toomes. Adrenaline coursed through his body, brain whirring to life like the computer before him as he deleted lines of code, rewriting and altering the code that created FRIDAY as he tore down the firewalls Mr Stark had built. Peter vaguely registered that this was probably illegal and that Mr Stark would most definitely be mad about this later but he quickly waved the thoughts away. He didn't have time for them, he didn't have time, he didn't have time. Barely registering what he was doing, Peter submerged himself into the world of numbers, immersing himself completely in the ocean of lines of code, fingers instinctively knowing what t do as though he'd been born to hack. Again, probably not a great thing that this was so easy. But computers had always made sense to Peter. After what felt like hours but was really only a few minutes, Peter was into FRIDAY's system. And with a few taps, Peter shut down the suits. Quickly exiting the browser, Peter dropped his head into his hands. He'd done it. With a long exhale, Peter relaxed, leaning back into his chair and running his shaking hands through his hair. An enraged roar broke the peaceful quiet surrounding Peter and he squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe if he ignored it, Mr Stark's anger would go away. He couldn't deal with this shit. Peter was too young to die.

"Peter Benjamin Parker I swear to fucking god-"

"You probably shouldn't fuck god, Mr Stark," Peter couldn't resist remarking with a shit-eating grin. "People might get a bit mad. And who knows, you may even end up pregnant which I can't imagine will be very fun."

"What the fuck?" Tony whispered into the silence that followed Peter's statement. "I don't even want to know what goes on in your brain." Peter hummed in agreement. To be honest, he had no idea what was going on up there half the time. He was just along for the ride. And hey, if it distracted Mr Stark from his anger then it was a win win situation right? (How Peter won in this scenario he didn't know but he didn't question it).

"It's the trauma," Peter replied flippantly, as casual as one would be if they were discussing the weather.

"The-" Tony broke off into angry, confused gibberish that Peter didn't even try to decipher. Crisis averted. Now to deal with the aftermath.

~~~

Step 6. Watch a movie.

Peter Parker wasn't good with emotions. Being a socially awkward sixteen-year-old genius had that effect on a person. Not to mention the fact that he had a crime-fighting, sarcastic alter ego. Yeah, he wasn't great with feelings. Especially not his own. And now he was attempting to help Mr Stark clam down after the whole Toomes-dropping-a-building-on-him-reveal thing. And the only way an emotionally stunted teenage genius superhero knew how to help an emotionally stunted adult genius superhero was something most people would not class as a healthy coping mechanism. Distraction. Preferably with a movie.

"Hey Mr Stark, wanna watch Empire Strikes Back?" Peter asked. Tony fell into a confused silence which Peter took as an agreement. "Yes? Perfect, let's go." Grabbing Tony's arm, Peter tugged him out of the lab and into the elevator, confusion splashed across Tony's features as they entered the movie room. Peter dropped onto the expensive yet incredibly comfortable couch in the centre of the room, pulling Tony down beside him. "Hey FRI? Can you please play The Empire Strikes Back."

"Certainly, Peter," FRIDAY replied, a hint of warmth in her robotic voice. The Star Wars theme filled the room, Peter lips kicking up into a smile at the familiar sound. And as the movie played, Peter reciting every single line with the characters, he felt the rage and tension slowly drain out of his mentor as he relaxed.

"Hey, kid," Tony whispered, interrupting Luke and Darth Vader's showdown. "I sorry for getting angry. I just... I just didn't know what to do. Instead of asking if you were okay I blamed myself and wanted to frigging murder a guy who's already suffering in prison."

"It's okay, Mr Stark," Peter responded with a smile, sincerity gracing his tone. "I get it. After Ben died, I found his murderer. I almost killed the guy," Peter chuckled without humour, Tony watching him with sad eyes, the movie forgotten. "Point is, I know how it feels to want revenge. Don't apologise for being human."

"You really are the best of us all, kid," Tony remarked, a smile adoring his face, features relaxed as he looked at Peter.

"I learned from the best," Peter replied with a shrug.

"Thanks, kid," Tony said, throat tight with emotion.

"I meant May," Peter joked lightly, the heavy emotion clouding the room vanishing as Tony laughed.

"Are you okay, kid?" Tony asked, seriousness settling over them again.

"Honestly?" Peter responded, "no. But that's alright. Because I will be." Peter held Tony's gaze, warmth blossoming in his chest at his mentor's caring eyes, as Darth Vader's voice filled the room.

"No, I am your father," Darth Vader spoke. Peter turned back to the movie, watching as Luke jumped and fell.

"You're gonna be okay, kid," Tony whispered, "we're both gonna be okay."

Because Peter would be okay. So Tony was okay too.

And if Pepper walked in three hours later to find them curled up against each other, fast asleep she never said anything. (She got FRIDAY to take a photo and saved it to Irondad and Spiderson - an unsurprisingly large file. She should probably get Peter to do a DNA test. They did look rather similar)

#fanfic #peter parker #spider-man #iron man #irondad #father-son #pepper potts #unhealed trauma #marvel #the avengers #spider son #bamf peter parker #tired dad Tony #tony stark #aunt may

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usmsgutterson · 4 years ago

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Yellow- Pin Hawthorne

OKAY, YES-- I’ve wanted to write for Pin Hawthorne since having finished the show, and I’ve decided to do it, because I simply can’t resist and Pin is my favorite moody horseboi, plus, this blurb (imagine? I don’t know how long it’s gonna go yet!) is entirely inspired by the songs Yellow and Sparks by Coldplay, because the show is modern and the songs were released W A Y before the years that show is set in, so yay!

Pins aged up in this, as well. In the show he’s around 16-17? In this, he and the reader are both 20!

I might have Pins characterization a little off because I’ve only watched the show once (I’m gonna rewatch it before I do a shadow and bone rewatch,, moody pin is just a bit too endearing) but other than that, lets do it!

The reader is American for this, and I did mostly keep it gender neutral, aside from an outfit description! Even then, though, I did try to keep it androgynous

Fic type- fluff

Warnings-none

It took a ton of convincing on Pins part to get his dad to let him use the castle for something that, to anyone else, might’ve seemed small. He’d known it might’ve, and started the process a good month before the event was even to happen. A decision that he’d made that wound up working in his favor.

“You really love them, don’t you?” His father asked, pressing the keys into his palm as Pin gave a nod. “Even with all the stupid nicknames?” Pin grimaced, but nodded again.

“Even the stupid nicknames, Dad,” he assured. “All of them.” His father broke out into a smile, pulling Pin in for a hug as he tucked the key away into his jacket pocket.

“Well then, happy anniversary,” his father mumbled. “Five years? Gotta admit, I had faith, but I didn’t think you’d make it this far. Not with someone like them.”

“I know,” Pin retorted. “I’m pretty lucky.” Pin knew that ‘pretty lucky’ might as well have been understatement of the year, but went along with it anyway, pulling away from his father and slowly approaching Elvis, patting his side a few times before climbing onto the saddle and riding down to the castle that he, as the duke, could technically call home.

The castle was big and at times, tough to get around, but he made his way just fine, letting Elvis move at a slow gallop rather than a run, figuring that he had the time, considering you’d agreed to meet at 8 and it was barely 7:15.

When he arrived, he put Elvis away safely, and made his way through the entrance and up to the outdoor balcony, which had a view outlooking the expansive land on which the castle was built, and the trees that went around the outerrim of the space.

He grabbed his bag off the chair on which he’d had his butler leave it the day previous, almost grinning to himself as he sat at the glass table, rummaging through the bag for everything that he’d put in it.

A bottle of wine, because why not, several sweets, a ton of the polaroids you’d taken in the seven years you’d known each other, some fairy lights that he’d hang up so that you weren’t totally and completely in the dark, and a bluetooth speaker that Becky had gotten him that Christmas; one that he’d still not bothered to use, despite the fact that it was almost June.

“Can I get you anything sir?” Arthur poked his head through the balcony door way, and Pin found himself startled.

“Uh, yes please. Wine glasses,” Arthur gave a single, solitary nod.

“The dinner that you requested will be here by the time you requested for it,” he responded. “Though, are you really sure fast food is what you want? It doesn’t seem right to celebrate an anniversary with fast food.” Pin forced his gaze to his lap so that Arthur wouldn’t glimpse his smile.

You’d come from America, just like Zoe had, but you’d moved with your family to the island when you were eleven. You’d met Pin when you were thirteen.

One summer, Pins father was insistent that he get away from the stables, spend some time somewhere he’d not gone before, travel a little, and your family had agreed to let him spend the eight weeks of summer with you in the united states.

You’d had your first date in a McDonalds that same summer, when you and Pin were fifteen. He’d felt weirded out, at first. The fact that he’d never eaten from a McDonalds, despite there having been a couple on the island, almost made him confused. You’d gotten chicken nuggets to split and a couple of the pastries to count as a desert of sorts, and thus sparked the relationship.

“No reason,” Pin murmured. “It’s quick. It’s easy, and the last meal that they ate was lunch.” Arthur gave another nod, and Pin began fiddling with the speaker as he heard Arthurs footsteps grow farther and farther away.

It was a speaker that was almost the size of his hand and designed to look like a vintage radio. Forest green was the color, and the dial on the right side would control volume. The three buttons below the dial were the power button, the on/off button, and the skip button. Pin turned it on, checking the sound quality by playing two MCR songs, silently bopping his head as Arthur returned, the supplies that Pin had asked Arthur to gather in a bag perched neatly on his arm.

Arthur placed the bag on the table wordlessly, leaving Pin to do his thing as he stopped using the speaker, deciding that the sounds of nature; the river, the rustling of trees and the beautiful view of the sky as the sun grew closer and closer to setting was much better company than Gerard Way scream-singing his lungs out.

He’d spent the remainder of the time he had working on your gift. At the end of it, he felt proud of himself, even despite how dumb he’d thought the idea was at first.

It was all of his favorite photos of you--polaroids he’d taken via polaroid camera and polaroids that became polaroids when he’d used a polaroid printer alike-- neatly put into a big picture frame, plus a couple of his sweaters that you liked to steal, some of your favorite sweets, and a journal he knew you’d been eyeing at one of the shops.

Arthur put the McDonalds onto the table in the last ten minutes before eight, putting the wine glasses beside the bag. “I’ll send them here when they’ve arrived,” he murmured, shooting Pin a smile as he turned and walked away.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Pin had the dinner mostly set up, the chicken nuggets at the center of the table, fries on either side, wine glasses filled the appropriate amount.

“You’re lucky I love you, Hawthorne,” Pin was almost breathless as he glanced over to you, putting the bag that he’d put your gift in on the ground to his right. “If you were anyone else, I’d not have waited so long to eat dinner.” You’d worn a simple pair of black jeans, with a black turtleneck and a dark gray blazer overtop. You styled your hair like you always did, and your smile was bright, eyes warm as you looked at him.

“McDonalds and wine,” you sat, putting the gift you’d gotten Pin on the ground to your left, reaching across the table and taking his hand in yours. “The perfect way to a persons heart.”

“Do you like it?” He asked, gesturing to the fairy lights Arthur must’ve put up while he was busy in the world of gift making. They weren’t lit yet, as the sun had barely begun to dip over the horizon, but he’d light them once it grew darker. You nodded.

“It’s absolutely lovely,” you responded. “I didn’t think you’d put this much effort in, to be totally honest.” You were poking at him, pricking gently at his work ethic in the hopes of getting a kiss across the table.

“I’d have been fine just cuddling the day away,” you admitted. “And I know you would’ve, but thank you. For everything.” He smiled, feeling grateful for Zoe’s suggestion that he use the castles balcony to his advantage when he’d brought his plans up to her and Marcus.

“You’re welcome,” he responded.

After that, you lapsed into a comfortable silence, making occasional conversation as you ate and drank. You let Pin ramble about the sick horses at Bright Fields and made a mental note to visit the hospital part of the stables, see how they were doing and make sure they knew that they were loved. As you cleaned up, putting your garbage back into the McDonalds bag, you gave Pin updates on some of the horses around the stables and the wild horses that you and Jade had been tracking.

“There’s a foal, too!” Pin loved seeing you get so excited, and that was no exception. “I know that we shouldn’t name the wild horses, but I couldn’t help myself, so I named the horse November.”

“Why November?”

“The foals coat is white. Snow is white, and snow happens in November. It just seemed fitting!” You grabbed the bag, going inside only briefly to put it into the nearest trash bin before walking back out and sitting back down.

Pin grabbed the bag with your gift in it at the same time you grabbed the bag with his. He slid yours to you with a bright smile, and you slid his to him with the same.

You opened yours first. “Your hoodies!” You yelled out, smile turning into a full on beam, “Pin, you know that we’re moving in together in the fall, right? You’re just gonna get these back!” Pin shrugged.

“You get them until the fall, I’ll wash them, wear them a couple of times, and then they’re yours again. I get to see you in my clothes and you get to be warm and comfortable constantly! I call it a win-win situation!”

“Can’t disagree with that!” You put the sweaters back in the bag, grabbing the photo frame next.

You sighed, feeling your legs turn to jello as your heart melted. You looked up at him, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you did. “Five years of polaroids,” you whispered. “And you’re giving them back to me?” Pin just shrugged, feeling tempted to round the table, crouch next to you and kiss you senseless, but he resisted.

“I took photos of them,” he responded, pulling his phone out of his pants pocket and waving it around. “I can always get more copies from the polaroid printer.” You laughed lightly.

“Thank you, Pin, so much.” You’d never stop saying it. You had so much to thank him for. Every smile, every laugh, every dinner date, every ride out into the countryside and every kiss.

“You don’t need to thank me, love,” he responded. “Theres one more thing in there for you.” He gestured to the bag as you put the photo frame back into it, pulling out the journal you’d been eying a moment later.

“No fucking way!” You cursed, turning it over in your hands. Pin leaned back into his chair, shrugging while he nodded.

It was a simple journal: a brown leather bound thing that was the same color as Elvis’s fur, but it had pages that were suitable for practically anything.

“I know you’ve wanted it for a while, and, well, I figured you could use it for just about anything. Sketches, diary entries, even putting bank statements in the thing would make a good use for it,” You slightly stood, planting a kiss to his nose across the table.

You put the journal back into the bag and gestured to the bag he’d put in his lap. “It’s your turn, duke.”

“Don’t call me that,” he whispered. He narrowed his eyes at you, but the smirk that followed after told you he’d not been serious.

The first thing he’d pulled out was a scrapbook of the years that you’d spent together. From photos like the victory one that Ted had taken after you’d completed riding lessons, Pin doing a thumbs up on the right side of your horse while you sat on it still, throwing a peace sign and smiling, to random photos you’d taken together.

Blurry ones that’d been taken with the timer feature. You flipping off the camera while Pin flopped back onto his bed. One from when you were both sixteen, in the middle of turning around, his arms snaked around your waist and yours resting on his shoulders as you kissed, the screen blurred but not so blurred that you couldn’t tell what was happening.

A couple that Zoe, Jade, Becky and Marcus had taken. You, exhausted, with your head in Pins lap as he fiddled with a camera, curled up and almost hidden from sight in the haybales. You and Pin at the pony prom, slow dancing, looking at each other with nothing but love in your eyes. A shot taken as you and Pin left the stables, backs to the camera, hands interlocked. A photo of you and Pin in the haybales again, you with your head on his chest, his arm around your shoulders, hay in your hair. A laptop sat discarded beside Pins sleeping body, playing old episodes of Criminal Minds. Both of you had sleepy smiles on your faces.

Pin laughed as he saw more than one picture of you two asleep in the haybales, some taken by Jade, most taken by Zoe, though there were a few shots that’d been taken by his father.

“I love this,” he glanced up at you, then to the speaker that sat on the edge of the table. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, horse-boy!” He snorted, putting the scrapbook on the table and grabbing the next thing in the bag.

It was a sweater; one that he’d not seen since before his eighteenth birthday. “Thief,” he murmured, folding the sweater and putting it atop the scrapbook.

“You’re my favorite person,” was your lovestruck retort. He blushed as he grabbed the last thing in the bag.

It was a camera; a polaroid to replace the one that’d been broken in the months before, and it was vintage.

“You didn’t,” he looks up at you, face showing disbelief as clearly as his voice did. In response, you just shrugged.

“We’ve taken a lot of photos, and you loved the polaroid camera. I used a connection or two that I have and I grabbed it for you.”

“How much was it?” He asked. “We had a limit! No more than fifty pounds!”

“It was forty nine pounds, and the taming of a wild horse found just outside the coast of Maine. She comes in a couple of days, by the way.” Pin put the things back in the bag and stood, grabbing the speaker and turning it on, connecting his phone to it a minute later.

“You love chaos,” he teased. “But I love you, so I love it by association.” He held his hand out to you, and you took it, giggling as he pulled you in close, bringing you into a passionate kiss that lingered on your lips even after it’d ended.

He paused only to have Yellow by Coldplay stream through the speaker, putting his phone on the table next to it.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, emphasizing more on his accent in a silly way to get you to laugh. It worked, to his delight, as you nodded, cheeks flushing bright red.

“You may have every dance, if you so wish it,” he felt his cheeks heat up as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and gently swaying with you as your arms moved to rest at his shoulders and his moved to your waist, wrapping around it, his hands meeting and folding at the small of your back. ‘

He’d found a way to loop the song so that it played a couple of times back to back, but you didn’t mind. You had Pin. You had Pin and his sarcasm, his smiles, his voice, still drenched with sleep in the mornings and his peaceful face while he slept. You had tea in the mornings, quiet afternoons spent riding or in helping horses, and evenings laughing with your friends, Pin at your side.

You’d known Pin for seven years, and you’d been dating him for five. He was like the lgiht at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel, and he embraced you tightly as you finally escaped it.

“What makes you happy?” he asked you absentmindedly, just to get to hear the melodic sound of your voice again. You laughed, meeting his gaze with a smile.

“You, Pin,” you responded. “You make me happy.” He stared at you for a long moment, wishing that he had what he’d kept in his sock drawer since Christmas.

“What makes you happy?” You repeated.

“You, Y/N. Always you,” you leaned up, pressing your lips to his without so much as thinking twice.

The kiss was messy, and you stumbled backward a little, but you giggled as you did. When you pulled away, you were delighted to find that Pins cheeks were burning as bright as yours, the same red that coated some parts the sky as the sun dipped down the horizon.

“You’re the love of my life,” Pin was almost in awe at how easily you said it, like you’d been reading off a grocery list or ingredients for a recipe. Pin had wanted to say it since he’d bought the thing that sat in that pathetic little sock drawer, but he’d still not figured out how to say it and make it worthwhile.

“Do you want forever?” The closest he’d get, but he was fine with that, and relieved as you’d nodded. “I promise you forever then, Y/N.”

#pin hawthorne #pin hawthorne x reader #free rein #netflix #netflix series #freddy carter #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader

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winter-fox-queen · 3 years ago

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The Gentry’s Gifts: Max Phillips

Hello! This is sort of a sequel to the Pero story, in that we saw Max and now we know what he was doing there and what choice he needed to make.

Warnings: Cursing. Angst. I had the trick of having to put both blank canvas characters into one story, lol. But I think I finessed it. The “you” character is a blank slate, mostly gender neutral (mentions of wanting to have children could sway your perception one way or the other.). Not betad.

This is my late #writerwednesday entry, thank you to @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape

Prologue:

Max Phillips slammed the hospital doors open, eager to get outside. The sound beeping machines seemed to echo in his ears, making them hurt. The smell of the place stuck to the back of his throat.

He tilted his head back in the afternoon sun, and breathed in, breathed out. Tried to make himself calm down. The Autumn are cleared his head as he jogged across the road.

“Bad day?” A voice asked.

Between two benches, almost hidden in the orange leaves, was a woman, instead of the ‘Nam veteran he usually passed a few moments talking to. Her wiry steel colored hair was in a messy bun, covered by a turban. She wore layers and layers even though it was a warm fall day. “Where’s Raffi?” Max asked.

“His daughter found him. He decided to try living with her again.”

Max nodded. “I hope it works out. She wasn’t…apparently he isn’t easy to live with. Bad dreams.”

“It’ll be better now.” She said with such serene certainty that Max believed her. He gave a little wave and walked away.

He was back, twenty minutes later. He put a chocolate shake in front of her, and a boxed fried chicken meal. If he had known his folklore…which, sadly, he would become intimately familiar with, he would have understood her amusement. Milk, bread…these were the Old offerings.

Instead he shrugged, uncomfortable. “What? I figure everyone likes chocolate. And I needed to eat, too.” He sat next to her.

“How old are you?” She asked, though she knew.

He shrugged. “Seventeen.” He buttered a biscuit and took a huge bite. He ate like he was starving. “Why?”

“You seem to be awfully young to be hanging out with homeless people. Where are your parents?”

He shrugged again. “My mom’s gone. My father…”. He pointed towards the hospital doors with his chin. “He’s dying.” He hunched over the greasy box of chicken, potato strips and biscuits, eating like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

She sighed.

He looked at her, and she shook her head, and ate the food he brought her. You are going to go off the rails Max Phillips. You are going to go off the rails so badly and there’s nothing I can do about it.

The Present:

He entered the library through the basement, crept up the stairway. The first floor was nearly empty…the university library kept late hours so that students could cram late into the night, but it was Thirsty Thursday and most of the students were elsewhere.

He waited until you were focused on the book cart again, back towards the main floor, and got himself around the corner. Then he pulled out his cell and dialed the front desk.

You now turned to go to the phone, at least he hoped so, as he disconnected the call and opened the side door to the area behind the circulation desk…

You were there, leaning against the cart, arms folded. “Nice try, but I know your tricks, Mister Phillips.”

He grinned and advanced on her, step by step.

“No no…”. You point a finger at him. “Stay back, this is a work place…”. You shoot a look towards the front desk as he backs you into your office. “You are going to lose me my job.” You hiss at him, and he bends a little, and kisses you breathless.

“Quit. I’ll take care of you.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders. He’s cool to the touch. It’s not disconcerting, not like it used to be. “I wish I could.”

“Stop wishing...”

“If you say ‘and make your dreams a reality’, I’ll bite you.”

Max looks offended. “It’s a great slogan! Do you know how many units of Losapill those golden words have sold?”

“I don’t understand how I can love someone so much and want to punch them so badly.”

He grins down at you. “I can name several reasons why you love me.”

You smirk up at him. “I’m sure you can…let me go, honey. I’ve got to tell everyone we’re closing in half an hour.” He listened to your voice on the loudspeaker, buttery and gentle and reassuring, and smiled a little. He could listen to that voice forever. He could sell holy water to a priest, but so far all his skills had failed to net him the one thing he wanted.

He walks with you, as you check the restrooms (He even does the men’s for you on each floor, turning off the lights and blocking the doors open) and stands behind you, hands in his pockets, looking gloomy as you gently tell students to take their books to the front desk if they needed to check them out, that the library was closing shortly.

He waits, patiently, while you close up and lock the doors and usher the last people out.

“I really wish you’d let me turn you,” he says when you are both in your car and on the way home. Max often took the rooftops from his office to the university. He was fast, and strong, and being fairly indestructible made him long for the thrill of possibly getting hurt, so he parkoured his way through the city once it got dark. It was disgusting, how he looked so good after running and leaping five miles.

He shifts in his seat as you let the silence grow. “Are you ignoring me?”

“Yes.” You stop at a red light.

“Why? You said you’d think about it. You’ve been thinking about it for a month. Any idea where you are on it? Like, from the scale of one to ten…”

You’ve been wanting to avoid this. You’ve really been wanting to avoid this. “Zero.”

She waits. She waits for the torrent of salesmanship. The spiel. Why becoming a vampire and living forever is what she wants, she just doesn’t know it’s yet.

For once, words fail him. No quick comeback, no charming lines. “I can’t believe you don’t want to be with me.” He says it so softly that you almost aren’t sure you heard it.

You pull into the apartment parking lot, picks a spot quickly you can park and take his hands in yours. “Max. I do. I really do. But just…I don’t want to be a vampire. I don’t want to give up the things I would have to give up?”

“Like what? Death? Getting old? Getting sick? Being weak?” He pulls his hands away. “I am offering you unlimited time. Think of the things we can do together! And you don’t have to kill…I haven't killed anyone in ages!”

“Sunlight.” You say. “Food.” He makes a disgusted sound and looks out the window. “A family.” You take a deep breath. “Children.”

He finally looks at you again. “Then I won’t waste any more of your time.” He raises his hand, and time goes wonky for a moment, and when things snap back into place, he’s gone.

You stay in your car a long time, hoping he’ll come back. Every step up to your apartment, you look around, hoping.

It’s dawn, before you give up, dried out from crying, your mouth feels full of ashes and your heart full of regret.

The next day:

Max was not in a good mood the next day. Usually he has a nice word for, if no one else, his PA, a miracle worker of a woman he’d always been fond of, but he just glared at her and slams his door shut.

Emails. Reports. He plowed into work.

The door opened, and he ignored it, steadfast in the hope that whoever it was would go the fuck away. I could always eat them. I don’t have to be good anymore.

A cup thumped down on his desk. He looked up. He didn’t recognize the woman — her steel grey hair was neat, her suit elegant. Her heart beat strangely, and he could tell she was not — quite—human. Great. Someone new from corporate?

“I thought you said that everyone loves chocolate?” She said, pointing at the milkshake. “You’ve come far, since we last spoke outside the hospital…”

He shook his head. “I remember you, but…”. How did she come to be here? Why? His brain was still trying to match up the homeless lady with the epitome of corporate flash in front of him.

“Now, I didn’t say you moved in a good direction. How did the sweet boy who spent his last twenty on dinner for himself and a homeless woman end up being a bloodsucking asshole selling fake products?”

“It’s a long story. Let’s schedule an appointment, maybe for the next century?”

“Nope.” She reached across the desk. “You gonna drink this?”

He shook his head and she took the milkshake, leaned back in her chair, moving the straw back and forth in the lid, making an annoying shriek sound that hurt his ears.

“Do you think I wanted this?” He snapped at her. Vampires didn’t really need much in the way of sleep, but he was tired. Tired and hurt. “And who gives you the right to fucking judge me?”

“I’m one of the gentry,” she said. “That doesn’t give me the right, but it gives me the power.”

“You’re fae. That explains it. You don’t seem human.”

“I thought they taught you the rules. You never call us out so clearly. Always call us by some euphemism and hope we don’t take a notion to turn our attention towards you.”

He threw up his hands. “Why? Why does it matter?”

“Because if I wanted to, Max Phillips, I could turn you back into the weak, dying, foolish mortal you once were.”

This stopped him. “You could?” He said carefully.

“I could.”

“What’s the catch?”

She smiled. “Good boy. Maybe they did teach you something, after all.” She put the milkshake on the desk. ”You were…what? Twenty, twenty one when you got turned? I could, if I wanted to, make it as if you never got turned. I could choose for you to age to the age you should be, had you not cheated death…or I could make you start from where you are right now. If I was feeling so inclined.”

“Why would I want that?” He scoffed. “Do you think I want to get old and sick? Do you think I want to spend the last year of my life in a hospital bed, unable to even piss for myself? You think this is a fucking gift? Enticing? No.”

“So you don’t want a life with the librarian? Probably for the best. She is made out of sunlight and deserves so much better.”

He stopped. He could feel the slipping…where the darker side of him started clambering up, eager to take control and rend and kill.

“Hush.” She said, and the blood stopped rushing in his ears, the fangs stopped aching. “I shouldn’t needle. It’s just so frustrating. You were a sweet boy and you just allowed the bad in your life to make you…well, frankly, a bit of a jackass.” She shoot him an apologetic look. “OK, that was a cruddy apology. But. Back to the subject at hand. Once, you were kind to me. And if you do me a favor — one more favor — I will give you a choice. A chance to choose a life for yourself instead of being a victim of bad choices and worse luck. No strings. No further price.”

He side eyed her a long moment. He was intrigued, despite himself. “What’s the favor?”

She took a small painting out of her pocket and slid it over to him. “Another debt to pay…that woman has a soul mate out there. I know where he is. If you get her to my house tomorrow night, I can unite them, give them a chance at well deserved happiness.”

“Yeuch.” He said, then picked up the painting. “Wait. That’s my PA.”

“Is it? How delightful. Isn’t just splendid how fate intervenes.” She put a card on the desk. “This is the address. Hope to see you.” She held up her finger. “There is one thing. She can’t know. You have to get her there without her knowing why. Alright?”

“Don’t hold your breath.” He muttered.

“Good. I am glad you understand. Ciao!”

He picked up the card. And cursed a bit.

NIght, in the time middle of nowhere:

“So, Mister Phillips…are you taking me out into the middle of the woods to murder me?” His PA asked, laughing. She didn’t know he was a vampire. Telling people what he was hadn’t worked out very well at his last job, so he’d been much more circumspect this time.

“I promise, you are safe. From me. I don’t know what Corporate will do, though,” he said, turning down another road.

“So, did they tell you what the meeting is about?”

“It’s meant to be a retreat. All the heads of the various branches and their PA’s. They want to re-envision the future of the company”. He took one hand off the wheel to put air quotes in the right place. “Apparently they messed up your email address so we didn’t get the invite in time. Someone caught it and called me directly.”

“I hope the place they picked is nice…”. She was looking out the window, trying to make out the road ahead. “Carol in accounting is super jealous. I think she has a bit of a crush on you…”

“Well, I am irresistible.”

“Mostly.” She grinned at him. A square of light grabbed her attention. “I think we’re here.”

He pulled up to the house. It looked sketchy at best, and the looks his PA were casting made him wonder if her trust was stretching a little too thin.

He got out and walked up to the porch. The Fae came out this time wearing a chic, flowery dress. She ignored Max and called to his PA. “Don’t be afraid. You are here so I can talk to you about your dreams…and by that, I mean the Spaniard, with the scar over his eye.”

The PA froze. “You…you know about him?”

“Go inside, dear, and I will tell you all about him. But I need to talk to Max, here, first”

His PA stopped next to him, put her hand on his arm. “Will you be OK?”

“Absolutely. You know me.”

She went into the house.

“Come here, Max.” The Fae held out her hand, gesturing him to come up to the porch. He did. A card table was set up, with one chair. Two cards lay face down. “Here is your choice. Are you ready?”

He stood there, looking at the table, and nodded. Fear coursed through him, as strong as the day cold hands grabbed him from behind, teeth sinking into his throat…

She reached down and flipped over a card. The Queen of Spades. “Darkness ever lasting. A vampire queen even now is looking for her equal. She will choose you, and the two of you will know power beyond your wildest dreams…until enough people get angry about it and decide to deal with you both. You will not love her, but who needs love when you have sex and death and all the power you ever hoped for?”

She reaches again, flips over another card. The Queen of Hearts. “And this. This is life. Your soul will wake up, and you will be twenty one and full of possibilities again. Your heart will beat every beat that was stolen from you. The slate will not be wiped entirely clean, but you will have a chance — a chance with your lovely librarian. Children. Be kind when you were once cruel, and live a decent, good life.”

His lips were numb. “How…how long?”

“Long enough. You will not feel cheated. It will be a plain sort of life, but it will be yours, and you will have the woman you love…some would say that is worth dying for.”

“What do you know about death? Your kind just fade when they are tired of living. You will never know the absolute fucking horror of your body betraying you. The fucking humiliation that waits. The pain.”

“No.” She said softly. “I do not.” She kissed his temple. “I am sorry. If I had met you sooner, perhaps…but, in any case, I consider all debts paid. When you are ready, pick up the card representing your choice, and rip it in half. Choose well, Maxwell Phillips. May we never meet again.”

He didn’t notice her leave. He sat down, weak, at the table.

Life. Death. Life. Death.

He’d seen both his parents die terribly. After he was turned, he’d mourned, then he realized the gift he’d been given. No hospitals. No lingering disease. No pain.

His hand hovered next to the Queen of Spades. No love, but power and sex. He’d tried to recover, tried to be good, for you. And he’d started feeling the guilt. And with guilt, came all the excuses. That he was living according to the nature that had been forced upon him. That he was giving people a gift…they died, or they become something that could never die.

You don’t punish the wolf for being a wolf.

But that was why it had been easy to walk away. Because you deserved better. Not a vampire. Not a wolf. A man…

He did not hear the car, but he heard the thump of the other man’s steps as he mounted the porch.

“She’s in there…” he said, barely paying attention.

When the other man left, he repeated what he said to him, in his head. Choosing between life and death.

He picked up the Queen of Hearts. His hands were shaking. He ripped the card in half. Darkness roared around him, pulled him under.

When he woke up, he was on the floor of his apartment.

No. His fucking. College. Dorm room.

“Dude, you started early.” Evan’s stupid face appeared as he bent over him.

Max wondered if he could punch him in the face. It would feel really, really good to punch the other man in the face,

“OK, well, I’m going to an away game…see you sometime tomorrow.”

He put the palms of his hands in his eyes. “Yeah…have fun.”

Evan stepped over him. “See ya…wouldn’t want to be ya!” The door slammed shut and Max raised both hands in a one finger salute towards it.

He made himself get up and go to the bathroom. He looked younger but not better, per se. What is wrong with me? What’s this feeling?

It wasn’t just that he could feel his body working. Feel breath (was breathing always so fucking noisy?) and heat beats and aches in his neck and back from laying weird on the floor.

He’d lived for years. But right now, he was still the same angry, miserable hit mess of a man he’d been at this point of his life.

A phone was ringing, he went and grabbed it.

“Hey Maxie. Is Evan gone?” Evan’s girlfriend. Great.

Oh.

“Yeah. Yeah. Look…”

“Awesome. I bought the cutest bra and panties…”

And this is where, he thought, this is where he took the step to becoming the man you deserved him to be. “That’s great. But you know…I only want to fuck you because your boyfriend is an annoying twit.”

Shocked silence. OK still an asshole. Check. So much for being a sweet boy when I was younger. “Look. I meant what I said. You are beautiful. You are probably far, far too good for Evan. Or maybe not, if you are willing to screw around with an asshole like me. In any case, you deserve better. But you have to decide what better is.”

This treated him to a string of profanity before the woman hung up.

Then, he walked to the infirmary, and asked for aspirin. And if there were any free spots for the therapist.

Sunday, the conversation between roommates went like this:

“So you were going to screw my girlfriend?”

A shrug — Max concentrated on the video game. “Changed my mind.”

“Why?”

He paused the game. “Because you deserve better.”

He felt Evan throw himself on the couch next to him. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re just so fucking happy and peppy and optimistic and everything is going to be awesome but I think the world is shit and misery and maybe if you dialed it back a little I we could have conversations that didn’t end with me wanting to punch your face.”

“Dude.” It sounded defeated and apologetic at the same time.

Max held a controller out to him. “Sorry. I’ll try to be less of an asshole.”

He took it. “I’ll try to be less…happy?”

Max sighed. “Just don’t get me kicked out, ok? I can’t afford anywhere else and I really don’t want to end up in Transylvania.”

Two years later, he decided he could go and find you.

Most people went to nice places on their spring break.

Max got on a bus and headed to a University in the next state. They’d had their Spring break a week sooner.

There you were. Sitting cross legged on a bench with a man with a streak of blonde in his hair, and a suit coat with elbow patches. Elbow patches. Pretentious asshole.

You were tucking hair behind your ear. You liked him. Max wondered if he should leave, come back…in a year? Three? When did he have a right to become part of your life? Did he even?

You look at him and smile and it is sunshine and he can’t leave.

The man on the bench says something about class. “See you at work,” she tells him, and he lopes off in an easy walk to one of the brick covered class buildings.

Max approaches carefully. “Hey. Um. I’m thinking about transferring here, wondered what it’s like?”

She shifted her bag over, even though there was plenty of room to sit, and he took it as an invite. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

He gave her his best smile. “Everything. I want to know everything.”

#Max phillips #max phillips x reader #writer wednesday

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captain-aralias · 3 years ago

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Life stuff

this feels kind of weird, because i’ve never used my tumblr like this, but i would have written something on my livejournal, and i want people to know - i just dont want to have to tell people about it, or really talk about it at all.

but i also wanted to write this, idk.

(TW: impending death of a parent)

my mum has cancer.

it’s a rare form of cancer, called peritoneal cancer, which is similar to but different from ovarian cancer - i think it mostly gets diagnosed (like my mum��s) when it’s too late to do anything about it. all the treatment has been palliative only i.e. letting her live as long and as comfortably as possible.

she was diagnosed in september last year - about a year ago, a few months after running the ‘virtual’ london marathon on the isle of wight, where she lives, and obviously deep in lockdown.

as someone undergoing chemo, she was deemed extremely vulnerable to covid, and so she spent most of the early pandemic isolating. she also said she didn’t see any point in my brother and i visitng her, particularly given the risks, because we could talk via facetime - which is fair enough - all of which meant my brother and i didn’t go to visit her until May this year, after she’d done the first lot of chemo and was already doing much better again.

a few months after that, we found out that while she’d responded really well to the chemo, her cancer wasn’t responding at all to the maintenance drugs that were suposed to stop it coming back, so she came off the drugs completely. medical advice was basically chemo is as effective whenever you do it, so you might as well enjoy your life for a while, we’ll monitor it every month, and when things start to get too bad, we’ll put you back in chemo.

it’s friday tomorrow - so two fridays ago, i saw my mum in london after she’d just seen hamilton with her partner, graham. both of them loved hamilton. her hair had grown back, she seemed pretty normal. about a week later, she was in A&E - and she’s been in the hospital all week. she’s got a total bowel obstruction, which means she can’t eat and hasn’t eaten since last week.

now in a weird situation where there are a few tricky, difficult options (including being moved off the island back onto the mainland to a bigger hospital) that will mean that she stays alive long enough to get the chemo, which will probably get her back to hamilton-watching strength, or ... she could die really soon. like, in a few days.

we can’t visit. her partner can’t visit because covid - there’s this really sad-making photo of him looking happy on the phone through a window to my mum, also on the phone, inside the hospital.

i feel...

???? :( :( :( ....

i guess this is the main point of the post. i’m not writing this crying, i’m writing it pretty neutrally - because my brain isn’t really processing it right now, and mostly doesn’t process it.

i did cry earlier today while on the phone to various people, and then i went back to work. i hate crying, i hate being sad, and i dont like people comforting me, because it makes me realise that i have something to be sad about.

i’ve known she had cancer for a year. i haven’t been able to hang out with her most of that time. i would say, we are fairly close, although not nearly as close as some families. we don’t talk every week, but we talk regularly, and have seen each other regularly.

i’m so incredibly privileged that nothing that bad has ever happened to me, even though i’m 35. i’ve never been to a funeral, which seemed like a major life win and now i think was a mistake, i should have gone to funerals for people i card about less to help get used to it.

the literal only comparison i have to how i feel is when my cat Anton died suddenly about 3 years ago - i handled it with a mix of not thinking about it, being intensely sad for as brief a period as i could, and probably by thinking about how sad my girlfriend was about it, and sort of sidestepping my own feelings in comparison.

i remember when my last remaining grandparent died - and i was about 14 or something - i wasn’t sad for myself, i was only sad for her my dad being sad. for ages, i worried that i was not going to be sad enough about this - and i still sort of am.

but i also passionately hate the idea of being sad and i know i’ll look to avoid it as much as possible, and try and get on with my life.

i know my mum dying isn’t about me - when people write after death it’s about the person who died, obviously. that makes sense. but this post isn’t about my mum, who is a very cool person, much cooler than me - it’s about me. because i am self-obsessed and this is going to wreck my life for a while.

it’s weird, because i can see it on the horizon but it’s not happening yet. and i dont know whether that’s good or bad - i feel like it’s good, in a way. someone ages ago told me that the grieving period starts when you get the news. that seems very true to me - but also, i know that it’s going to ramp up, and so i’m like in the expectation of true grief right now.

it’s sort of like she died, but also is still going to die, but also i can magically still talk to her. which is really nice, in a way, it’s like a second chance, because i know i didn’t reach out enough before she had cancer. and i’m aware enough of my own actions that i know this is what’s been going on in my head the past year - i should reach out more, because she has cancer, but i dont want to make it seem like i’m reaching out because she has cancer, even though she knows i know she has cancer....... and also, i’m busy writing this fic. /o\

the fact that she seemed to recover (even though my mum insisted on saying ‘i am not recovered, i’m going to die soon’ like several time as a day as a disclaimer) also totally messed with my head, because i knew logically - ok, it’s happening. but also, things seemed so normal when we speak. even when i called her today, and she hasn’t eaten for a week, it seemed normal.

btw - i realised this week i had no idea how cancer killed people. my mum is a scientist and has looked up all kinds of things about what’s killing her; i’m clearly a simon snow and didn’t want to think about things i can’t help. if you’d asked me, i’d have said like... it poisons you or something, or blocks bloodflow to your brain. not what i think will actually do it which is.... starvation. or being too weak to survive being pumped full of the poison that is intended to kill the cancer. (that one i guess i could have predicted.) man - cancer sucks. i mean, we all knew it.

(i failed to get into cambridge university at interview stage, many years ago. the man who interviewed me gave me some extremely memorable feedback, which is that i needed to dial back the ‘defensive irony’ - which i thnk in that context meant i put myself down and tried to make a joke of everything. i remember when i got the phonecall to say Anton, my cat, was dead, i literally did not know what to do with my voice - because my instinct was to try and make the vet feel better, and also to present myself as bright and capable, and yet this unexpected and devasting news had just come through. rainbow wrote something sort of similar because she’s a good writer, for shepard as he tells penny about his curse. i feel like that.)

what else did i want to say?

i thought i had more time. ‘hamilton’ will probably always be tied to this moment in my mind, because of how much i’ve spoken to my mum about it in the past few weeks (i sent her the remix - she liked it, she listened to it in hospital while trying to drink more than 100ml of fluids) but yeah - this is basically a line from hamilton here. whatever. don’t make me feel my own feelings, let me just quote things. i dont like my own feelings. (no, i dont want to go to therapy - they’d make me talk about my feelings all the time, i’m british for god’s sake.)

i’m 35 - my mum is 68. i didn’t think she’d die this early or that i’d have to deal with this yet. but then i also don’t think bad things are ever going to happen to me - because mostly they haven’t, see above. i wear a mask and am double vaccinated because i’m not an asshole, but i dont really believe i’ll get covid because bad things don’t happen to me. i didn’t think my mum would die - maybe ever, but definitely not yet. she’s been retired a decade after teaching (science) and has enjoyed it.

i thought i had time to not have kids yet - which is the other thing (like hamilton) that this moment is really tied up with for me. i feel like 35 is getting quite old, but also not that old to still not have kids, but intend to maybe have them. my feelings about kids were basically like - up until like 25, i thought, yes, definitely. i mean, before i had a realtiosnhip (22-ish), i just assumed i would probably have a het marriage and have kids etc, like people do, but after that we were still talking, yes, children at some point.

didn’t prioritise it for a few reasons - none of my close friends had children until quite recently, so it just didn’t seem like an urgent thing in the way that it probably does for people with different friendship groups. waiting to be settled enough in a job to be able to take maternity leave without it feeling like a rip off for my employer. waiting for a good time in erin’s PhD writing cycle. and then pandemic. and then a few years ago, maybe as i turned 30, i thought - maybe we won’ have kids, because we still haven’t - and i vocalised that to erin.

also, i know a lot of people are gay and have children, so it’s not like it’s a thing that is impossible at all, but it’s much much harder if you have to leave your home and your relationship in order to get a child. it has to be a very very conscious decisions. i have friend who are men who have good genes, but we’re not so close i want to ask them for their sperm/to be involved however remotely in making a child - and (i was surprised to discover) (what a lot of things i dont know anything about) you an’t really just buy sperm, it’s not truly legal except through a clinic. and it’s extremely expensive to get inseminated in a clinic, and the NHS don’t really do that, so you do have to pay it. i thought kids would be expensive after they were born, but not before. and i REALLY wanted a house, much much more than - i think even today - i’ve ever wanted a child. i REALLY wanted a house - and now we have a house, and it’s pretty good. but - that’s where the money went, until the pandemic - thanks pandemic - so now we do have some disposable cash at last, because i didn’t commute.

but now erin is worried about climate change - and wheher it’s right to bring more children into the world, and other things. and.... i think i do want to be pregnant, it’s what i’m planning for - don’t leave this job (which admittedly i also really like, and pays me well - i dont thin i need to leave) because next stop maternity leave, but.....

i don’t know whether i am thinking, time ot have kids because my best friend just had a baby (the baby’s name is horatio - for real, i actually love this name) (i also haven’t seen her or the baby except over skype, because anna - my friend - is, like my mother, also scared of pandemic) and my brain is like - ok, well, if anna is doing it, i guess the time is here

AND - i know there’s a large part of me that was like, gotta be pregnant and ideally have the baby before my mum dies so she gets to see that she had a grandchild. my brother and i are both queer, btw, in case you were wondering - he’s considering whether he wants to transition right now (but is still happy with he/him pronouns) and - you may find this astonishing, but i genuinely don’t know whether he’d consider himself ace, or has been in relationships. he’s very private, he has OCD and is in therapy - but anyway, he’s probably not having kids anytime soon (i think!) and graham - my mum’s boyfriend/partner of 10+ years. -has grandchildren, but my extremely middleclass white (but definitely not conservative voters, always 100% not-tory) parents ended up with me and my brother.... and i don’t know, as i say, i don’t know whether my brain is saying ‘have kids before it’s too late’ - although i know by now that it will be too late. even if my mum recovers from this, this time, i don’t think i can produce a child before she dies - and she isn’t asking me too, she’s not like that, but i would have liked her to be there. i thought she would be.

so - i’m thinking about that. also, about getting a dog. i really want a dog - although i don’t want to upset the three cats (one we’ve had for eight years or so, the other two we got after Anton died). it’s ALSO really hard and expensive to get a dog. you’d think with all these ‘a dog isn’t just for the pandemic, a dog is for life’ type adverts around, that it would be easy to adcidentally get a dog - i’ve looked! you ccan’t get a dog unless you have no cats and you’re super experienced and can take a dog with lots of trauma or medical problems, or you’re willing to pay thousands of pounds. like - even for a regular not even pedigree dog - at least a thousand. pedigree dog - several thousand. i dont want a puppy either - i want a dog.

and - this is embarrassing to admit, but i’ve alrady told erin - i genuinely had a phase of being super annoyed when i’d read fics where someone just ‘got a dog’. it’s not that simple!!! it’s fiction, it doesn’t matter - chill out. the baby thing too - although weirdly not fics where magic meant it was possible to get a baby, weirdly it was smut. i had a brief week or so of crazy (and i don’t think i am that crazy) where i’d read about fictional semen and just be like - wtf, it’s so hard to get hold of that shit. (it’s not real, this isn’t real semen being wasted, calm down - and i dont even really know if i want kids, i might just think i do.)

the other thing about the bad thing being soon but not yet (but also being all the time, but not if you dnt think about it) is that i’m thinking - should i prioritise writing my remix now, in case my mum dies and i’m too sad to do it, and then i didn’t do my remix? i was definitely thinking this while writing classroom politics (i hope my mum doesn’t die becaue i dont want to be too sad to miss the deadline) and in the run up to AWTWB .....

today i wrote a list of things for work that would need to be picked up if i have to unexpectedly stop working, either because i’m too sad, or because i have to do funeral stuff, or .... i guess legal stuff about settling the estate. (i guess this happens to a lot of people, too, but it’s also a bit of a mindfuck that my brother and i will inherit her house and a bunch of cash when she dies - i’m pretty well off, my brotehr does virtual reality theatre stuff so really isn’t - we’ve talked about how much easier both of our lives will be with a huge injection of cash, and how we dont know what to feel about that) (great news, dogs and kids are really expensive! time to find out whether i really wanted to spend my money on those.) told people i like at work that it’s coming, and that i dont want to talk about it. and mostly just... carrying on with life, really. until it happens.

it’s so weird how easy it is to carry on most of the time.i know my mum’s partner is not doing nearly so well - he has to cope with an empty house and he’s retired. i’ve had periods - including right now - where i wake up every morning and check my phone to see whehter someone called me or texted me to tell me it’s over. but most of the day i’m actually really fine. i even had an ok day today. and i don’t know whether i want that to be the case, or whether i shouldn’t let myself do that. i dont know what i should prepare for in terms of where i’ll be - will i want lots of stuff to distract me (this is my guess) and work is very good for that, or i will want to clear time and space because i can’t operate and dont want people to offer me comfort. (FYI - this post isn’t written to make people say anything to me, i definitely dont want to talk about it, so please don’t feel you either have to comment or check in on me - i don’t really want you to. it’s enough to have written it, in my own time, in my own space.)

i think i wanted to write this post in a way because i thought i probably wouldnt want to write it after my mum died - because i probably wouldn’t want to say anything about it at all, for a few years.

my mum keeps telling me about the show ‘jane the virgin’ - which she’s half way through. shhe asked me to give it a try, so i did (she often tells me about shows on radio 4, which i rarely listen to. i thouht i had more time.) i’ve watched an episode (because she has cancer, i should listen to her recommendations)(but i dont want her to know that’s why i did it) and i do quite like - it’s light and frothy and well cut together (although about kids and artificial insemination, of course). i guess in a worse case scenario where i’m too sad to work or write, i will probably watch a lot of this show - which is incredibly not sad - and feel sad about how my mum never finished it.

BUT ALSO SHE MIGHT BE OK. for a while.

i dont know how i feel, blargh. anyway. this was a long post. i think i wrote it mostly for me. feelings are weird. covid really sucks and so does cancer.

going to order some chicken and watch inuyasha.

#my content #tw: death #tw: death of a parent #tw: death of a loved one #personal #tw: cancer

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stones-x-bones · 4 years ago

Text

Common Decency || Kyle and Bex

TIMING: Current (Yesterday) PARTIES: @darkh0wl SUMMARY: Bex and Kyle meet up in the Common after weeks apart and things go swimmingly. CONTENT: Domestic abuse mentions, Internalized homophobia, Drug mention (wolfsbane), Memory loss mention, PTSD

Bex checked and rechecked the time on her phone several times. She wouldn’t have blamed Kyle for not coming-- last time they’d met up had been a disaster. But that was a few weeks ago now, and she was better, really, she was. She could handle herself. The hunter in the alley was proof enough. And yes, maybe she still did have nightmares about Kyle attacking her, but she had control now. She had power now. She could stop him if something happened. And hadn’t Kyle said that he had something to help him with control? So, then, this would be fine. And she’d even taken precautions this time. Mina knew she was here, meeting with him. She was on speed dial, even. Bex figured that would have made her feel better, even if she could tell Mina wasn’t excited at the prospect of her meeting up with Kyle. The minutes ticked by as she sat alone at one of the picnic tables in the middle of the common. He was gonna show up, right? Of course he was. He wanted to see her, too. She fidgeted nervously with her phone when she felt the urge to look up, and there, across the way, was Kyle. Her heart both froze and drummed faster. She could look at him, now, without immediately falling into that dark place. Still, her fingers tingled and her legs began to bounce. She stood up and waved at him. “Over here!” But she figured he already knew where she was-- didn’t werewolves have good noses? She hadn’t imagined that, right? She circled around the table and sat on the opposite side. “Y-you can sit,” she gestured, avoiding his eyes for a moment, “If you want.”

He was going to be late. Kyle was going to be late because he had spent too much time trying to sike himself up to meet Bex. She knew the dangers of meeting up with him, but she said she was going to tell someone where she was. They were meeting in a bright, well-populated park. This was not a dark, damp alleyway. But he’d thought campus would be pretty safe, and look how that had turned out. Maybe the wolfsbane would go better this time. It had worked during the full moon; not so much at the bar with Eddie. All he could do was stay calm and keep his fingers crossed.

By the time he had gotten there, Kyle’s stomach was rolling. He couldn’t tell if it was the anxiety or the wolfsbane, but he considered telling Bex to forget the whole thing. He hadn’t called it off, though, and made his way through the park towards Bex. He knew where she was—upwind from him—before she stood and waved to him, but it was a nice gesture anyway. Kyle waved back as he neared. “Hey,” he said, once he was close. “How are you? You look—,” better than last time he’d seen her, better than she did in the alley, better than in his nightmares where he was still ripping her to shreds, “—good.” He swung his legs over the bench of the picnic table and sat down. “How have you been?”

Kyle looked...tired. There were bags under his eyes, but Bex could pretend not to notice them if he didn’t want her to. She doubted she actually looked much better, though make up was convenient for covering up bags under eyes and bruises on foreheads. She brushed some of her hair down and glanced at him across the table. They’d never actually hung out before. They existed inside of each other’s heads and bickered for two weeks straight, and then they’d both snapped, and found each other in an alley, and well-- Bex’s chest was proof of the rest. She tried to stop the itching need to rub at it, old scabs now just jagged scars. “I’m doing better,” she said, and she could look across the table at him, and the open field behind him, and the sun, and not see the wolf and the darkness and the alley. She breathed in with relief. “How are you? I-- I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you for a while. It was just...I needed to let myself rest for a bit, I think.” She needed to let herself reconcile with the idea of death. She smiled gently and relaxed her body. “It is good to see you, though. Is Nell being nice to you, still?”

Kyle smiled. It was nice to see Bex looking relatively relaxed in his presence. It was nice to hear that she was doing better. He let himself relax and propped his elbows up on the table. “I’m glad to hear it. Me? Oh, I’m fine.” That wasn’t true. He lost his job at the bar; they didn’t like that he had nearly killed someone in the alley twice. He had been crushed by a dumpster and his ribs were still bruised. He started taking supernatural drugs that, yes, may help him with keeping his shifting under control, but also left him feeling about as good as he looked. Kyle was terrified he was going to kill someone. Bex didn’t need to carry any of that, though. He could keep that quiet this time. She was better off if he kept his distance, at least a little bit.

“I understand.” Kyle nodded, pursing his lips with the admission that Bex had needed some time. Of course she did, he had seen that first hand. The reminder, though, stung. He was right to want to keep her at an arm’s length. “You don't need to be sorry. I don’t want there to be any pressure between us. You don’t have to talk to me if you’re ever not feeling it. We— Friendships don’t usually start out this...complicated.” Kyle couldn’t think of another friend he’d ever made that had a backstory like theirs. He hoped that that maybe meant something; they could bond over it. Truthfully, though, he didn’t know Bex. Didn’t know anything about her, what her favorite color was, what she wanted to do with her life, nothing. Not really. But he did know her deepest secrets that she admitted to no one, not even herself. “How’s Mina?” he asked cautiously.

“Nell and I have come to a sort of...agreement? I don’t know if we’re friends. But she’s cool. She definitely needs to stop cheating at every single video game, but did you know she’s a good cook? She made me this soup—ish-is-i-...it’s like Latin or something, I don’t know.” He chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “It was good soup.”

Bex wondered if this was just what people did. Lie to each other about how they were doing and then pretend like they didn’t know. She wanted to say something to him-- really, she did!-- but something in the back of her head told her not to. It told her that if she tried to get too into it, maybe she would look at him again and just see the wolf. That maybe the panic threatening to bubble in her chest would erupt again and destroy the last chance she had to make things right with him. As much as anyone wanted to blame Kyle, none of this would have happened if it weren’t for her. He might’ve been the one tearing into flesh, but she was the one that had invaded his mind, and that would always be on her. “Good! That’s good. I’m glad you’re doing okay.” But the lie tasted bad on her tongue. Sour. It was all sour.

“No, I guess they don’t, but it’ll make a hell of a story, one day, right?” Bex tried to bring lightness back to the conversation, tried to wash the sour away. “But thinking on it, quite a few of the friends I’ve made here were after disasters.” Though not many of those had been true near death experiences. “So, really, we’re not that far off.” She gave him another gentle smile. She wanted him to know she was comfortable with this. And she was. Really, she was. The fear would probably always be there, she knew that, but she could learn to separate Kyle from the wolf, couldn’t she? His question about Mina threw her for a moment and she felt a blush rise in her cheeks. “She’s great! Fine. We’re-- great. And fine. She’s-- not exactly thrilled I’m here but I think she’ll come around eventually.”

Clearing her throat, she brushed off the heat in her cheeks and shifted, hands in her lap. “She cooks? I...didn’t know that. That-- was really nice of her. To do that for you. I hope she can help you. She’s been really good to me, too. I think she sorta feels responsible for me, even though she’s only like, four years older than me.”

Kyle wondered if Bex knew. Did she know he was lying? Did she see through him? It wasn’t hard to see how tired he was. He stifled a yawn and blinked hard. His whole body felt off. His stomach was sour. He was exhausted. But Bex didn’t say anything, and he surely wasn’t going to. He wondered if maybe Bex wasn’t telling the truth either, but he had no reason to suspect anything. He leaned against the table again, hunching in on himself a little more.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said of Mina and Bex. “You two are really cute together.” He tried not to let the comment, about Mina not wanting Bex here, bother him. He didn’t blame Mina. The first interaction they’d had together was post-mauling. Kyle was lucky she hadn’t decided he was enough of a threat to dispose of. He looked away, eyes wandering the park they were in. How could Mina come around? Kyle didn’t trust himself, he didn’t expect Mina to, either. ”Right,” he mumbled, bringing his attention back to Bex. “She, uh, she’s kind. I don’t know her, really, but she was kind to me the last we spoke. I hope I get to know her in the future.” He offered a smile that he hoped was reassuring, or at least polite, but it was stiff and forced.

Thinking about the soup made Kyle’s stomach groan. Had the wolfsbane actually been a bad idea? After all, it was literally poison. He couldn’t blame Nell for it; her warning had been crystal clear. Short-term use. He hadn’t listened. “I think you remind of—,” he paused, wondering if Nell had ever told Bex about her sister’s death. “Of a witch that’s close to her. I think Nell would do just about anything to protect another witch.” Nell had seen so much, been through so much. Did Bex know? Kyle clasped his hands together on the table and stared at them. It wasn’t his story to tell, but he hoped Bex understood some of the weight Nell carried and how it probably related to herself.

Bex flustered a moment. “We’re not--” she started, but cut herself off. She didn’t know what they were. She didn’t know if she wanted to know, or talk about it. She just liked having her. Having Mina. As her own. She liked being with her and around her and that was all that mattered, right? She cleared her throat and smoothed her palms down the front of her jeans. “We’re just...taking things one day at a time,” she finally answered. It was a non-answer though, she knew that. She wasn’t sure what else to say. She still couldn’t admit her own feelings. She watched Kyle’s eyes wander, and couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. “You talked to her? When was that?” His smile seemed stiff, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she looked away this time. “She will! Come around. She’s just-- worried about me. You understand, you know? Watching people you like get hurt is-- hard. But she knows it wasn’t your fault.” And so do I. She kept that part to herself.

“I-- yeah,” Bex murmured, staring across the table at Kyle’s hands as well. She wanted to reach out and grab them, squeeze them, reassure him she was okay, that she wanted to be here. To be his friend, to mend what they’d never truly had. “She would.” Bex knew that, too. Nell would tear apart the town for Bex if she needed to. It was a strange thought, but hadn’t she just told Mina she’d do the same for her? And wouldn’t she do the same for Nell? She lifted her gaze. “If Nell’s helping you out, I think it means she likes you, too. She wouldn’t do that for just anyone, you know?”

Was Bex really still lying to herself about this? About her feelings for Mina or the way she was most definitely not straight? Kyle’s eyebrows raised. “One day at a time,” he repeated. “Oh, I asked her...how you were doing. It was a while ago. I just wanted to make sure you were hanging in there.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking away again. “I didn’t think it was…I thought it was too soon to message you myself.” Clearing his throat, he shook his head. “Anyway, I get it. I know how she must feel about me. I don’t blame her. I— It’s a lot.” She knows it’s not your fault. Kyle didn’t want to argue. Not here, not now. But Mina was wrong if she thought it wasn’t Kyle’s fault for attacking Bex. A thousand should’ves and what ifs played in his mind, just like they did every day. If he’d only done things differently, maybe taken Ari up on her offer to shift with her, maybe tried to work on his emotional fragility—but he hadn’t, and that was what he had to make up for. “I know I’ve apologized at least a dozen times, but…I’m working on being better, Bex. And I hope you know that if I could change the way things happened, I would.” His throat was tight and his eyes burned. Kyle couldn’t cry in front of Bex over this. That wouldn’t help either of them move forward. He had to stay calm and talk about this like an adult.

When Kyle caught Bex’s gaze on him, it made him feel vulnerable. Guilty. He crossed his arms in front of himself and leaned on them. He didn’t want to think about Nell liking him in any capacity. She shouldn’t. He had tried his best to kill her, too. They talked about it, sure, but Kyle wasn’t ready to let go of his guilty conscience. It was all he had. If there was no more guilt, what was left? A sad, anxious, undisciplined child. He hated that person. “I don’t know about that,” he said, trying to dismiss the sentiment. “I think she’s trying to make sure I don’t kill anyone. It’s an act of-of charity, you know?” Part of him knew that was a lie, but it was easier if he lied to himself and Bex and everyone else. If he could just pretend he and Nell were just trying to get him to be more docile than dangerous, that felt better than making friends with someone else he’d tried to hurt. He couldn’t stop thinking about the sunrise he and Nell had shared, though. Sitting there in the chill of the morning air, watching the world wake up around them, and swapping stories about their deep hurt. Did it mean as much to Nell as it had meant to Kyle?

“Oh,” was all Bex said. Had Mina mentioned that? She couldn’t remember. She probably had. Mina didn’t hide things from her. Not usually. Not things that were important. Mina just tried to do too many things on her own, but lying wasn’t one of them. “That was...nice of you.” She watched him closely and wondered if her gaze was making him uncomfortable. But the table didn’t hold her attention very well, and neither did the peacefulness of the Common behind Kyle’s head. “I think...you can’t really actually know unless you ask her. She’s not..malicious, though, Kyle. She just cares a lot. Maybe too much sometimes.” She shifted and pulled one of her legs up under her, putting her elbows on the table in front of her and leaning her chin in her hands. “I know, Kyle,” she said quietly, “I’m sorry, too.” They could say it a million and one times but she knew that neither of them would ever stop blaming themselves, would they? She wished it could be easier. She wished she could take his guilt for him. She wished they hadn’t had to suffer like this. She wished she could look at him without having to think about it. “One day, maybe we won’t have to be.”

Bex nearly snorted at that, though, unable to keep the laugh from escaping her lips. “Nell? Give charity?” she stifled the laugh with one of her hands and shook her head. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but Nell doesn’t go around giving people charity cause she feels bad for them. She’s an extremely powerful witch, Kyle, if she really wanted to make sure you didn’t kill anyone, she would. And sitting with you during the moon isn’t one of those things.” She softened a bit. This was nice. She could look at him and see him and know it was him. It was Kyle. Kyle who played DnD at the library, and collected Yu-Gi-Oh cards, and worked at a bar, and thought about pretty girls a lot. It had taken time, but it had gotten better. “Don’t take her for granted, Kyle. I’m willing to bet she cares.”

“I’m not afraid of her.” Kyle spoke before he really stopped to think about it. “Well, I mean—I don’t think she’s malicious or dangerous. But she’s someone who means a lot to you, and we really got off on the wrong foot, so I’m afraid to mess up with her. I guess.” In that sense, Kyle was very much afraid of Mina. He didn’t like the thought of forging a friendship with Bex while Bex’s definitely-not-girlfriend-but-more-than-friend disliked him or hated him or just plain didn’t want to be around him. It didn’t sit right with him. It would feel like a weird intrusion of their space. Kyle rubbed at his nose and avoided looking Bex in the eyes as she spoke. She had nothing to be sorry about, but he couldn’t bring himself to argue with her about it. Bex wouldn’t let him, he was sure of it. For now, he could be quietly glad she was alive and here. “Thank you,” he whispered, voice coming out much softer than he anticipated. “One day.”

Bex’s laugh eased the tension he felt and Kyle’s shoulders sagged with relief. He hadn’t been aware he was gritting his teeth until his jaw relaxed, too. He made a point to try to let go of some of the stiffness in his body, and took a deep breath to ground himself. Kyle smiled and shook his head. “I guess you’re right. I just—she‘s protecting people, you know? Herself, you, the town...me. It’s—I don’t know. It’s nice of her to do. I didn’t think it was because she liked me. I won’t take her for granted. She’s done too much for me already.” He looked up and met Bex’s eyes. He was at war with himself, but sometimes everything seemed okay. Just for a moment, he could breathe easy. He wasn’t worried about Bex. She seemed okay.

“I didn’t say you were!” Bex shot back stubbornly, frowning. But it wasn’t a real frown, it was the kind of frown you gave a friend or annoying sibling. “If you just be yourself, you won’t mess up. She just-- kinda overreacts when I get hurt. Well, okay, maybe not overreacts, but she gets really worried and upset and I understand why, but it’s, well--” she stopped talking, suddenly, because she didn’t quite know what she was saying. “She just cares. And I think she could care about you, too, if you let her.” Or maybe Bex was wearing rose-colored glasses for Mina, but she really wanted her to understand that Kyle wasn’t a threat to Bex. That they could be friends. Couldn’t they all just be friends? She sighed and put her chin back in her hand. “I think both of you are just too stubborn right now. But, you know,” she shrugged, “one day.”

Bex smiled as she saw him visibly relaxing. It felt nice, to know that they didn’t have to make each other so stressed. That they didn’t have to worry so much, all the time, about each other. She still would, but it was nice to he wasn’t so tense around her all the time. And her, the same. After what had happened with the hunter, and with Morgan and that zombie, she wanted to learn how to separate the beast from the man. If she was not her magic, than Kyle was not his wolf. She just had to keep telling herself that. “Yeah, she is. She acts all aloof all the time, but she’s a really caring person, inside.” Kyle finally looked up and met her eyes and for the first time since she’d been under his claws, she didn’t feel afraid. She did, however, feel something wet on her lip. Reached up to find her nose bleeding again and shirked away, pressing her hand to her nose. “Sorry, this uh-- has been happening a lot lately.” Something was changing in the air, though. She could feel it. Her eyes scanned behind Kyle’s head. “Hey-- what is that?” she asked, blankly, staring at what seemed to be a hole, opening itself in the middle of the field, like a tear in the air itself. “You see that, right?”

Oh, so Bex was in love and still lying to herself. Kyle couldn’t hold back the smile that lit up his face. It was so cute to watch her ramble about Mina. He told her as much, saying, “This is cute, you know? The way you talk about Mina.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m willing to try being her friend. Especially if you two are...friends.” He put an emphasis on friends and tried to hide the satisfied smirk that went along with his words. “I’m not stubborn,” he argued, mirroring Bex’s frown. He stopped short of saying anything more, his frown turning into a petulant pout. “...Okay, fair point.”

Kyle agreed with Bex about Nell. They both saw through her exterior, at least to some degree. He hadn’t been able to see anything other than his lowkey former high school bully until recently. It was nice to see, though, that Bex saw her in a similar light. Kyle opened his mouth to comment on Nell’s scary tough outer shell, but there was blood dripping from Bex’s nose. “Are you good?” he asked, alarmed. “Hold on.” He patted his pockets and pulled out a little travel sized pack of tissues. “Here, tilt your head forward.” He passed the tissues to Bex, worried about her all over again. He almost ignored her questions, too focused on her seemingly random nose bleed. Kyle cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder and immediately did a double take. He could see the fissure opening over the field, and he’d seen enough movies to know that a tear in the fabric of space itself was not a good thing. Alarmed, Kyle’s hand shot out and grabbed at Bex’s own, though his eyes remained fixed on the—the—whatever it was. “What the f—!”

“It’s not-- we’re not-- I just think she’s really--” Bex stuttered, before grabbing the tissue from Kyle and holding it against her nose. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a nosebleed,” she tried to wave it off, tipping her head forward like both Mina and now Kyle had told her to. God, how much longer was this backlash going to last? She was getting tired of it. It’d been days, but Nell said regaining energy after using so much might take a bit. She nodded. “I do have a fair point. You should probably know I’m right about most things,” she said nonchalantly, her voice a bit drowned out by the tissue in front of her face. Finally, she pulled it away and found that the blood had dried, for the most part.

Which was a good thing, because she didn’t really have time to worry about a bloody nose. Not when there was a hole ripping open in the middle of the field and Kyle’s hand had shot out to grab her own. Bex startled just for a moment, but fought off the feeling of fear quick enough to not immediately pull away from him. Instead, she squeezed his hand back and tugged on it. “I think it’s a--” but before she could finish her sentence, the sound of roaring water began to fill the common, and out of the hole, came a river of it. “Holy shit!” Bex exclaimed, jumping up. There was no way she could outrun that water-- maybe Kyle could, but Bex wasn’t a runner. So, instead, as it splashed towards them like a flash flood, she jumped up onto the table and pulled Kyle with her. “What’s happening?” she asked, even though she knew neither of them had an answer. “Why is there water coming out of a hole in the sky!?”

Kyle wanted to tease Bex about Mina because there was no way they were just friends. He also hadn’t said they were anything but friends, so her quick response was that much more satisfying. He laughed, tossing his head back as she claimed to be right about most things. Before he could say anything more, though, there were more important things to think about.

Letting himself be pulled on top of the picnic table, Kyle instinctively moved to wrap an arm around Bex. He tried to put his body between her and the water, as if that would make any difference. In a fraction of a second, he considered their options. Option one, run. He didn’t know how fast Bex was, or if he could outrun the water himself. He could always carry her, but if he wasn’t fast enough, they would both be screwed. He couldn’t have her blood on his hands again. Option two, stay right where they were and hope that the table was buoyant. Option three...Kyle didn’t have an option three. The only other thing he could think of was to fight against the wolfsbane and shift so maybe he and Bex could have a chance to actually outrun the water.

“I don’t know! What do we do?!” Kyle yelled over the rushing water, looking at Bex with wide eyes. “You’re the magic one!”

Bex froze for a moment as Kyle wrapped an arm around her. He was safe, he was safe, he was safe. He wasn’t the wolf. He was Kyle. Just Kyle. Just a stupid, silly, annoying boy who was her friend. Besides, he wasn’t the danger present. The water rushing around them was. It splashed against the table and knocked it and Bex would have stumbled had his arm not been around her. She clung to him, looking around. “Should we-- should try and go through it? Do you think it’ll stop?” This wasn’t nearly as fun as ghost hunting with Eddie. Still, it was strangely...fascinating to Bex. Was that a portal to another dimension? Was it anything like the portal Nell used to summon demons from? She squinted at the shimmering portal just a few dozen feet away from them and wondered if there was some way for her to close it. “Okay, well, I’m a beginner magic person, so don’t, like, fault me for not knowing what it is! Or what to do!” she said stubbornly over the roar of the water. “I-- might be able to close it? Let me see what spells Nell made me…” she ruffled through her purse. A spell to freeze someone temporarily, a spell to create a smoke cloud, a spell to turn invisible. No, nothing to help with a random portal opening in the middle of the park.

When she looked up, she saw other people frantically climbing trees or swimming towards safety, but it wasn’t just people in the water. There was something dark, with glowing eyes, hidden under the waves. She braced an arm against Kyle. It was swimming towards them. “Wh-what is that?”

It was a bad day to go to the park, and a worse day to decide to try some wolfsbane to keep himself calm. Kyle would have liked nothing more than to try to wolf out and carry them, or swim them, both to safety. Instead, he was sleepy, nauseated, and very much human. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to jump in anytime soon!” The water was rising as it continued to pour from the rift. If the picnic table didn’t become a picnic raft, pretty soon they’d be going under. Kyle could not swim, which seemed like a pretty important thing to know how to do right now. Ironically, he could doggy paddle well enough to keep his head above water, but that wouldn’t help if the water didn’t stop.

“Well?” he called as Bex searched her bag. “Do you have an anti-water portal spell!?” He looked around, trying to find a way out, but he only saw water and people trying to get to higher ground. There were people on a playground set, people in trees, people on benches—all of them trying not to drown. Kyle was about to ask if Bex could swim, but was interrupted by her pointing out the thing lurking beneath the waters’ surface. Great, another supernatural something that he didn’t know existed until today. “I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out!”

“Oh, no, we are not jumping in,” Bex said, shaking her head. She had to do something. Wasn’t there something her magic could do? She tried to think of anything practical, but nothing came to mind. Feather falling, enchanting things to move on their own, and making things float weren’t going to come in handy here. “I can’t swim,” she admitted, giving a sheepish grin. The water splashed up a little more onto the table, wetting their feet. She stepped back as if that would help anything, but of course it wouldn’t. Her feet were still wet and the water was still rising, and the thing in the water was still coming towards them. A head popped up, breaking the waves. “Is-- is that a person?” It looked like a very attractive woman, really. But something just didn’t seem right about that. Suddenly, behind it, another head popped up. And another. And another. Bex groped at Kyle’s shirt, staring wide, tugging. “We-- we need to get to higher ground. Fast.”

She looked around. There. A tree. It was the tree that was shading the few picnic tables around the area, but it was probably farther than either of them could jump. Unless… She turned to look back at Kyle. “Do you trust me?” she asked, looking him in the eyes.

“I can’t swim either,” Kyle groaned. “We’re gonna drown.” He didn’t want Bex to die. Maybe she could climb on his shoulders or he could—could throw her or— His feet were wet and that was the worst feeling Kyle could possibly imagine right now. A real insult to injury moment. Bex was right about the person in the water. No, not person, singular. It was people, plural. For a split second, Kyle almost relaxed. People weren’t as dangerous as he and Bex combined. Maybe they were okay. But they were definitely outnumbered, and there was something wrong. The women that surfaced smelled all wrong. They weren’t human. They almost smelled like Mina, but definitely distinctly fishier. “Are they—are mermaids real?!” he exclaimed. This was totally not how The Little Mermaid had panned out.

“What?” Kyle asked, brow creasing together. He looked right into Bex’s eyes. “Trust you? With my life.”

“Mermaids?” Bex asked, raising a brow. She looked back at the women rising from the water and found that they all had identical faces, nearly. There was no way they were human. Or anything. “I-- should we talk to them? I don’t know if mermaids are real, I haven’t asked anyone yet!” But she would after this. And then her next question would be-- how could all the movies get them so wrong? She turned back to Kyle, still gripping his shirt tightly. He looked right at her and said he did. He trusted her. With his life. She almost felt bad about it. She wasn’t sure she returned the sentiment. Not yet. He had almost killed her, and now here they were, and his life was in her hands, and she had to do something. She couldn’t let them die. Even if it hurt. Even if she passed out again. She nodded. “Good, now,” she held out her hand to him and her palm was no longer red. It had faded just a few days ago, “take my hand and...think light thoughts? I...haven’t done this on anything bigger than a head sized rock.” She scooted them towards the edge of the table, in the direction of the tree. “On the count of three, jump as high and far as you can, okay?” She drew in a breath, and drew in her magic. “Together?”

“I’m not talking to them,” Kyle stated, shaking his head. Now didn’t seem like a good time to gamble with the possibility that the—whatever they were, were not only sentient but also willing to talk and not maim, eat, or kill a wolf and a witch when they were so ripe for the taking. “I don’t know if mermaids are real either!” He didn’t really want to find out. That would be just another box to tick off in the ‘mind blowing revelations to keep Kyle up at night’ category.

Kyle looked at Bex’s outstretched hand and back up to her face before he took her hand. It didn’t make him feel great that she hadn’t tried this with something people sized, let alone two. But there were no options, and Kyle trusted Bex. He nodded at her and tried to think of feathers and balloons and air. He wasn’t sure if that had been a joke or if things really did work like in Peter Pan, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“Okay...1...2…”

“Well, they could be nice,” Bex argued for a moment, but just as she did, one of them lifted from the water and a set of gnarly, crooked, blood-stained teeth peered out from under the waves .”Or...maybe not.” She looked back towards the tree and thought of all the times her and Nell had practiced this spell. She thought of air, and being light, and feathers floating down to the ground. She thought of how powerful she’d felt ripping memories from that hunter’s head. She thought about how powerful she could be, if she just tried. If she just concentrated. If she just believed. She let her energy go and let it snake up her arm and into Kyle’s hand and through his body. He counted down and together with him she said the number, “Three!” and she stepped forward and she jumped as high and far as she could and she-- felt her body floating lightly through the air as they arced above the water. She held fast to Kyle’s hand and tried not to instinctively close her eyes as they came back down towards the trunk of the tree. She grappled for a branch, but missed, and sudden thoughts of plunging into the water made her feel heavy again. “G-grab a branch!” she shouted at him as she felt her magic waver, clinging to Kyle. “Hurry!”

Kyle was not prepared for that. For any of it. He hadn’t been ready for the teeth belonging to the beautiful women in the water. That was unexpected. This was definitely not Ariel’s story. Even more so, he had not been prepared for the jump, even as they counted down together. Eyes screwed tightly shut, Kyle waited for them to land safely. When that didn’t happen, one of his arms shot out, his eyes flying open, and he deftly grabbed a branch, still clinging to Bex with the other hand. “Hold on!” he shouted. “I’ve got you!” He didn’t know how to pull Bex up to safety without a steady grip himself. Kyle looked down at Bex and the water below her and his stomach dropped. “Hold on,” he repeated, less assuredly. He pulled Bex up like a curling weight. “Wrap yourself around me and I’ll pull us both up.”

Bex knew she was putting a lot of strain on Kyle by dangling from his arm, but she couldn’t help it. There were angry gnashing teeth beneath her, and if those didn’t kill her, the current surely would. They just needed to get to higher ground and wait it out, that was all. He curled her up and she scrambled to find purchase on him, wrapping her arms around his midsection and pressing against him tightly. “Pull us up!” she called out, bending her knees as something that look like an overgrown, ravenous otter leapt out of the water and gnashed at her feet. “Hurry!” She didn’t mean to rush him, but she really didn’t feel like being fish food today. She had promised Mina a whole week of nothing disastrous happening and she really figured that getting eaten by a demonic otter counted as disastrous.

“I’m trying,” Kyle growled through gritted teeth. Once his other hand was free, he gripped the branch above them like a pull-up bar and pulled them both up to its level. He didn’t stop there, wanting to put as much space between himself and the ottershark as possible. “You’re doing great, Bex,” he said, continuing to pull them up a few more feet until there was a branch sturdy enough and wide enough for both of them to sit on. He paused there, arms wrapped around Bex, and looked down at the water again. “Holy shit,” he mumbled. Hesitantly, he loosened his grip on Bex and looked at her. “You okay?” he asked. If her heart rate was anything to go off of, she was at very least rattled.

Bex squeezed Kyle even tighter as she buried her face in his side so she didn’t have to watch, simply hoping she wouldn’t get snapped up off him. Finally, he was pulling on her to climb up and she hoisted herself up onto the branch as well, staring down at the water as the strange creature began circling the tree, much like a shark circling its prey would. Kyle was saying something to her but all she could think about was what had just happened, and what she’d just accomplished. Sure, beside blowing up a doll and ripping the memories from someone’s head, it didn’t seem like much, but she’d floated two people across a distance they normally wouldn’t have been able to jump, and gotten them to safety! She turned to Kyle and even though her heartbeat was racing out of her chest, she was smiling. She didn’t even notice the blood streaming from her nose again. “Did you see that!?” she exclaimed, feeling woozy. Her head spun and she sagged against him. “That was-- I did it! Nell would be so proud,” she slurred.

Kyle wrapped his arms around Bex again, holding her in earnest this time. Clearly, the leap had taken a lot out of her. He’d learned from Eddie that doing magic—or whatever Eddie did—was draining. It made sense, shifting was incredibly draining for Kyle, too. He didn’t say anything about the blood this time, even when it most definitely got on his shirt. “I’ve got you,” he said quietly, into the top of Bex’s head. The creature still lurking below him, Kyle felt a swell of protectiveness over Bex. It was his job to keep her safe in this tree. It was the least he could do after everything. “I’m sure Nell would be proud of you. I’m proud of you! I don’t know a lot about magic, but that was incredible, Bex.” This hurt a lot less than being crushed by a full dumpster, and it was less terrifying than watching a dozen people relive a near death experience. Flying was scary, but it was almost...Exhilarating. It was maybe the first magic Kyle had seen that he wouldn’t mind trying again.

Kyle was just Kyle, Bex realized. He wasn’t a big, bad, scary wolf, and he had never meant to hurt her. He would never hurt her. She sank into his arms and let her head rest on his shoulder. The scars were still there. The pain was still there. The fear was still there, but Bex could understand that Kyle was just Kyle. She’d spent so long in his head she’d forgotten he was fighting his own battle inside of himself. She’d never been privy to it. She wanted to help him. She wished he understood she didn’t blame him. That she forgave him. “It’s just a simple spell,” Bex murmured, shifting in the tree to sit closer, curling her legs up. The bottoms of her jeans were wet, but she didn’t really mind. Her arms felt numb again, like they had after the spell she’d done on the hunter. “Thank you,” she finally said, reaching up to rub her eyes, “for trusting me.”

Kyle could fall asleep like this. Bex was warm in his arms and, given the precarious position the two of them were still currently in, he felt safe. The creatures that loomed beneath the swirling surface of the water seemed less intimidating from up in the treetops. Kyle didn’t know how they were going to get down from the tree, but that wasn’t a concern of his just yet. This town was weird, maybe they had a weird Coast Guard that knew more about things that lurked in the deep.

“A simple spell? You said you’d never moved anything this big. That’s impressive. I can’t do that,” he said, grinning. “Don’t sell yourself so short.” Kyle wondered if things would’ve been different had Bex been able to just float away like this in the alley. Would he have still chased her? Would he have attacked someone else? It wasn’t for him to know. He was fighting the urge to apologize again when Bex thanked him. His heart ached with affection for her in that moment. “You don’t have to thank me, Bex. I’ve trusted you this whole time. It helped, being inside your head. I can tell you’re just...a really good person.”

Bex had never imagined she’d feel safe around Kyle ever again, but up in this tree, what was there to feel but that? His arms were tight around her, and she’d never really realized how much muscle he had. He’d pulled them up into the tree all by himself, after all. Or was that a werewolf strength thing? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t really want to ask, though. Her body felt too exhausted to move, anyway, even if she’d wanted to. What would Mina think? Hiding up in a tree with the werewolf who almost killed her. She swallowed and looked at the water below them. It was beginning to slow, but the creatures underneath the surface hadn’t left yet. They could smell a meal, and Bex watched as blood dripped off her chin into the water. “Shit…” she mumbled, wiping it away again.

“Oh, I mean...the spell itself,” Bex said, looking over at Kyle. He was a little blurry and she strained to focus. “Nell didn’t exactly tell me but I’m pretty sure it was a beginner spell. Like, for kids. I read about some of the beginning spells in a book Morgan let me borrow.” She didn’t mind, though. Not really. She was a beginner at magic, even if she was picking it up at an alarmingly fast rate. She looked away at his second statement, back down to the water. Was she a good person? Would he still say that knowing what she’d done to that hunter? She sniffled again as she felt more blood trickling from her nose and reached up to pinch it closed. “I was in your head, too, you know,” she finally said, “I think you’re a good person. You’re just a little…” she scrunched her nose trying to think of the word, “distracted.”

Kyle moved to grab the tissues from his pocket again, before realizing they had been left on the picnic table, forgotten as the water rushed in. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe at Bex’s face, aiming to get rid of some of the blood. “What a good time to get a nosebleed,” he said, tone light compared to the concern on his face. “Are you okay?” He reached out to cup Bex’s face in his hand, but hesitated. His hand hovered inches from her face. He was nervous that the gesture would be too much and let his hand fall.

“Even if it’s a beginner spell, you’re new to this. You’re a beginner, it’s okay to take things slow! Wait, Morgan has magic books? That’s cool.” Kyle was worried as the blood continued to flow. Was it normal? Was this just a witch thing? He really wished he’d grabbed the damn tissues. He pursed his lips and looked down at the dark waters below them again. Was he a good person? Would she still say that if she knew what had happened with Eddie at the bar? Distracted. “Why do you say I’m distracted?” he questioned. “What am I distracted from?” What was he distracted by?

“Yeah, sorry,” Bex mumbled, feeling a bit delirious now. “It’s been happening a lot lately. Ever since--” she started, but managed to stop herself, biting down on her cheek-- “something happened.” She didn’t really want to tell Kyle what she’d done to that hunter. She’d done something similar to him, hadn’t she? Would he still want to be her friend if he knew what she did to people? That she’d willingly used the power that had ruined everything for them? She rubbed at her nose and tilted her head back. “I think it’s done now, anyway.” She looked back over at Kyle. “It’s fine, really! Nothing to worry about.”

She scooted back against the trunk of the tree and let herself rest. “Yeah, I know. I’m new to all this, I need to give it time, yadda yadda,” Bex mumbled, head dizzy. She rubbed her eyes and didn’t notice the blood smearing on the side of her face from it. “I mean you’re always thinking about other things. I might think a lot but you were always...concentrated on something else. You never really...sat alone with yourself,” she explained as best she could, looking over at him with weary eyes. “Guess we’re opposites in that way, huh? I think...too much and you think too little.”

“What happened? Did you break your nose or something?” Kyle asked, still concerned but trying to trust Bex on this one. He trusted her with his life, but that didn’t mean he trusted her to not lie about how she was feeling. “See, you telling me not to worry makes me worry. Funny how that works.” Hadn’t Bex said she was fine after Kyle hurt her? And again when they last met up? It was hard to believe her now.

Kyle let go of Bex, scooting back a little ways to afford her some space on the limb of the tree. “You’ve got some…” He gestured to his face where the blood had smeared. “Can I get that for you? You’re all bloody now. If I send you home bloody, I’m sure Mina will never let us hang out again.” He was joking when he said it, but Kyle worried that maybe there was a grain of truth to his words. He didn’t have much time to worry about it because Bex was out here reading him like a book. “I—,” he began to argue. The words died in his throat because maybe Bex was right. He didn’t put a lot of thought into himself or, well, he did but it was all about how much he wanted to be better for other people and the harm he’d done. None of his thoughts were spent on how to reduce the harm or better himself. Still, the way Bex had worded it caught him off guard. “Ouch,” he said, clutching his chest over his heart and feigning hurt. “I think too little. You really just went for it, huh? Cuts deep.” Again, he was joking, but something about her words actually stung. Was she calling him thoughtless? Brainless?

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Bex reassured, shirking away from his concerned gaze. Hadn’t he said he was always worried about her? Especially after what had happened between them? She didn’t know how she felt about that. About all these different people being concerned about her. It was enough to know Mina worried so much about her, having someone else be concerned, especially someone who she had such a storied past with, made her insides feel funny. Or maybe that was the fact that she’d used a hefty amount of magic again after not letting herself relax for long enough. “I’m okay, really! It’s just a magic thing, I guess.” She didn’t want to worry him anymore than he already seemed to be.

“Where?” Bex asked, looking over at him and watching as he scooted away. She furrowed her brow. “I’m sure she’d understand. She knows this has been happening and that it wouldn’t have been your fault.” She didn’t move, looking over to him as he offered to wipe it away for her. Her head was still spinning, so she’d let it happen for now. She could be okay with this. She was totally more okay with this. Being around Kyle. She was feeling-- good about this. “Okay, you know what I meant! You think too little about yourself. Even before-- what happened. You were always thinking about other people. And, well, about Yu-Gi-Oh cards and DnD. And pretty girl butts. And no, I’m not letting you live that one down.”

“A magic thing, huh?” Kyle repeated, scooting closer again, reaching out and cupping Bex’s face with one hand. With the other hand, he wiped at the blood on her cheek. “Why would the magic give you a nosebleed?” His forehead creased with the worry he said he didn’t have. It wasn’t like they’d been honest with each other thus far. He licked his thumb and rubbed at some of the blood that had begun to dry onto Bex’s cheek. Then, he tried to dry her cheek with his sweatshirt sleeve. “I’d like to not give Mina any doubt that I looked after you,” he said softly. Once the worst of the blood smear was cleaned off, Kyle sat back again. “There. Much better.”

He pushed up his sweatshirt sleeves as he scooted back, fidgeting with them to keep himself preoccupied. “I know what you meant,” he said. “I’m always thinking about anything but myself. I don’t like to think about myself. It’s—I’m not as important.” He folded his hands in his lap, looking back up at Bex now. “Yu-Gi-Oh! is good. I think you would maybe like it if you tried. Or if you watched it. DnD is pretty fun, too.” Kyle barked out a laugh when Bex mentioned the butt comment. “Okay, in my defense, you’re very pretty! When I see a good butt, I think about the good butt. Like Nell has a good butt. And Eddie has a pretty good butt. Sometimes, you see a butt and it’s nice!”

“Uh, well,” Bex started, “it’s like-- energy. You know? And when you exert too much energy, you get tired. Or sick. Or--” she gestured at her nose, “--nose bleeds.” She froze entirely when Kyle reached out. His hand was on her cheek and she watched with static eyes as he reached out and began wiping the blood off her cheek, off the side of her head. She swallowed but stayed still as he finished up. Used the sleeve of his sweater to dry her now flushed cheeks. “There’s no doubt,” she said, once he’d finished. She didn’t shift once he was done, and watched him sit back against the tree. Finally, she moved to come sit next to him, struggling only for a moment as a branch snapped under her and settled next to him. She leaned against him and put her head on his shoulder.

“You are important,” Bex protested quietly, “you’re important to me. And to Nell, and to-- your parents. To all your friends.” She looked down at the water below them and noticed it beginning to recede. She chuckled, her shoulders shaking with the action. “You think so? I’ve never actually tried it. I...don’t even actually know anything about it,” she shrugged, “but if you think so, then I’m willing to try it.” She was surprised by his laugh, but even more surprised by his words. She sat up, then, raising a brow. “You-- what? You like-- hold on. You know Eddie?”

Kyle wrapped his arm around Bex as she scooted closer. “I’m sorry if lifting us was too much exertion,” he said, worried again. “Why didn’t you say something? We could’ve figured something else out maybe.” Her head on his shoulder, he felt protective of her once again. He and Bex were falling easily into this little friendship. In a way, he felt this brotherly sort of affection towards her. Kyle just wanted Bex to be okay and be happy. “Does rest help?” he asked, wanting to do something to make her feel better.

Those feelings became a little stronger when Bex called him important. “You’re important to me, too.” He tried to ignore the way his chest tightened when Bex said he was important to his parents. The relationship they had... She had no way of knowing, but it wasn’t great. It was better than the one Bex had with her own parents, so Kyle stayed quiet. “I think I could totally get you into my nerd games,” he said, letting his head fall to the side on top of Bex’s. The action lasted only a moment as she sat back up. “Oh, uh, yeah. I totally forgot to tell you that I met Eddie. He mentioned you and—,” and what had happened in the alleyway. “—and he said you guys, um, met.”

“No, it wasn’t!” Bex argued back, but she wasn’t sure if that was entirely true. “It wasn’t too much! Not-- really. I just-- may have previously used too much and it may still be affecting me. But, really! Nell said it would be fine. It’ll stop soon.” She hoped it would be fine soon. “I don’t think we had a lot of time to figure anything else out, really. And it worked in the end, didn’t it?” she asked. And, really, she would’ve done it anyway, even if she’d told him and he’d said no. She wasn’t about to let them both drown or get eaten by whatever was circling them in the water below. She peaked over and noticed that the top of the picnic table was sticking back up over the surface, and in the distance, sirens were wailing. “Rest, yeah. Rest helps.”

She let herself relax a bit more. Despite everything that had happened between them-- and the panic that she still felt trying to worm its way into her chest-- Bex was glad to know she was important to Kyle. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but it had something to do with how desperately she’d needed to see him after the incident. How desperately she’d needed to know he was okay. “You think so? I’d be curious to try. I do like proving I’m better than people at their own games,” she teased, but her face fell a little at his statement and she glanced away. “He-- told you what happened, didn’t he?” she asked, shame tinging her voice, her cheeks.

“You burnt yourself out recently, and then used magic to save us? If rest helps, then get some,” Kyle chided. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing Bex with curiosity. “Was it your practicing with Nell that tired you out so bad? I know she can be...persistent in her methods.” Maybe persistent wasn’t the word when Nell had scared him into shifting. Still, she had been insistent if nothing else, that she help Kyle with his control. “It did work out, I just feel bad that you’re paying for it.”

Feeling a little safer about the slowly receding water below them, Kyle straddled the branch and let his legs swing down. “You have a lot of catching up to do if you’re gonna beat me at my own games.” He grinned at her, but his grin faltered when Bex turned away. “Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t mean to, and Eddie’s okay. I’m—,” he bit his lip and hesitated. Kyle didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to talk about it if Bex didn’t want to. But he needed to know. “Do you still have the nightmares? About me?”

“I am resting!” Bex huffed, folding her arms over her chest as she looked at Kyle. She unfurled herself and glanced away, hair falling in her face. “No! No, Nell is great with me, really. She’s not pushy or anything like that. She’s really supportive and she never lets me use too much magic.” She wrung her hands together, picking at the bark on the tree. “It was just something I tried on my own, but it won’t happen again.” Probably. Maybe. Well, no, it was going to happen again. If any hunter tried to hurt Mina-- or Kyle-- again, she wasn’t going to hesitate. “Well, I mean, there’s a price for all magic. Sometimes it’s just a little something, sometimes it’s ingredients, sometimes it’s-- energy.”

Kyle scooted away, but Bex decided to stay planted right where she was. She was a little worried if she moved too much she might pass out and fall from the tree, but she wasn’t going to tell Kyle that and make him fuss over her even more. Surprisingly, though, being stuck up a tree with the person who had nearly killed her didn’t seem as scary as falling into the water below. It was because Kyle was just a boy, not a wolf. Not right now. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes as she admitted, quietly, “Yes.” Because what good would lying do right now? She wanted to forge a friendship with him, and lying about this wouldn’t spare anyone’s feelings. “Not every night. And-- Mina helps. Being next to Mina helps. When I try to sleep.”

Kyle squinted at Bex. “What to you mean it was something you tried on your own? Bex, I don’t know enough about magic to keep you safe.” He hadn’t meant to word it like that, but it slipped out anyway. “I mean, I’m sure you don’t need me to keep you safe, but I’m worrying again,” he amended, trying to play it off. He did trust Bex, but he didn’t trust the magic. He hadn’t seen magic be used positively or without consequence. It was hard to trust something he couldn’t possibly comprehend. “I just hope you’re being careful.”

If it were possible for Kyle to feel more guilt than he already did, hearing that Bex was still having nightmares about him did it for him. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and looked down at the tree, picking at the bark. “I’m having them, too.” Truthfully, Kyle hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep in weeks now. The closest he’d gotten to peaceful sleep was when the wolfsbane knocked him out cold. He couldn’t sleep without seeing himself on top of Bex, or hearing and feeling the fear she had experienced. “Benefits of being in your head, I guess.” He pulled a small chunk of tree bark off the limb and watched it fall down into the water. The height made him dizzy if he looked for too long, so he closed his eyes. “I can’t apologize enough for that night. It’s—I know you don’t want me to blame myself or whatever, but it’s hard not to. You were already going through a lot and I’m sorry for what I’ve added onto that.” Kyle felt sick again, but this time he was pretty sure it wasn’t the wolfsbane.

“I don’t need you to keep me safe!” Bex said back before she could stop herself. “I don’t need anyone to keep me safe.” He tried to rescind his statement, but she understood what he meant. People worried for her, and that did feel nice, but she didn’t need them to protect her. She had been fine on her own for twenty years, she could be fine on her own now. She turned her head away and leaned back against the tree, pulling her knees up to her chest. She rubbed a hand across it, feeling the lumps of the scarred flesh that was still healing on it. “I’m being careful,” she muttered. Now at least. She doubted Kyle would count following a hunter into an alley as careful.

Bex felt a pang at the quietness of his voice. All of this had happened because of her, and she wished, so badly, that she could take it away. It didn’t seem fair, that he had to suffer like this, too. At least when she'd fallen into that dream world, it had only been her. No one else had fallen with her. Even if, sometimes, she’d wished they had. It was a cold loneliness that only ever reminded her of home-- of her parents. “And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I don’t blame you. I-- don’t like what happened, and I-- accept that part of it was your fault. But part of it was my fault, too, and the fact of the matter is that we never would’ve been in that situation had I just-- been better at using magic, at-at controlling myself. I was still so-- resistant at that point. That’s why I’m working to get better. For-- for myself but also for-- for you.”

Kyle flinched at Bex’s words and shrunk into himself a little. Something about her tone was like a slap to the face. “I’m sorry,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. “You’re totally capable, I know that. Just—after what I did to you, after thinking I killed you...it’s hard not to want to protect you.” He closed his eyes and locked his jaw, willing himself not to cry. He didn’t want Bex to feel any guilt for his actions or feelings. Clearing his throat and blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay, Kyle looked around the park. He could still pick out other people up in the foliage of the trees. “That’s—I trust you. I do. I don’t trust what other people might do to you. I don’t want anyone to hurt you. Like I did.” He wiped at his nose, trying to turn away. From his position, still straddling the limb they sat on, that was difficult. He ended up just looking over his shoulder, staring out at the water.

It hurt to hear Bex echoing his words, almost verbatim. If only she had had more control. Kyle shook his head firmly. “No. Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t. I’ve been torturing myself with the same thought process over and over, Bexley.” He conceded and turned to face her. His eyelashes clung together with tears that still threatened to spill over. “If I had more control over my shifting, if I had been better at keeping my cool, none of this would have happened. And I want to change that—I’m trying to change that—to keep you and everyone else in this shitty town safe.” Finally, a single tear ran down Kyle’s cheek. He tried to wipe it away before Bex could see it. “Just—please don’t beat yourself up. You do not carry this alone.”

Bex stiffened and thought of Morgan, and the zombie in the shop. She remembered the look of such sorrow on her face when she came back out of the shop, clean, as if she hadn’t just killed someone just like her. She remembered her saying Bex was worth it. She remembered her saying Bex mattered more. She never wanted anything close to that for Kyle. “I don’t need you to protect me,” she said, quieter, with less gusto. “I just want you to be my friend. That’s all.” She didn’t need a protector or a knight in shining armor or a bodyguard. She just wanted people to stop treating her like she needed protection-- from themselves, from others, from monsters. She didn’t want to be behind people anymore, she wanted to be beside them. “They won’t. Like I said, I can take care of myself now. And I-- I’ve been doing that for a long time, already, anyway. I know how to take care of myself.” She lifted her legs and curled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “I already know what it’s like to have people hurt me because of the way I am.”

Bex put her chin on her knees and watched Kyle avoid her gaze. She kind of hated it. He was crying, she knew he was crying, so why wouldn’t he just look at her? Did she cause him that much distress? How had they already gotten back here when just a few minutes ago they’d been doing fine? Was this just how it was always going to be? She didn’t want that. “Morgan says I need to process everything and leave the what ifs behind. That I need to accept that I-- almost died. And that it was partially my fault. But I’m allowed to...still be upset about it. And-- scared.” She looked over at Kyle and saw the tear. She blinked away her own. “I think I’ve figured out that-- it’s not you that scares me, Kyle. It’s-- losing control. You or me or...anyone. The wolf wanted to kill me because I made it lose control. And I lost control because I didn’t understand. But I understand now.” She wiped her sleeve across her eyes. “You and the wolf you love and the wolf who attacked me aren’t the same.”

Kyle reached out towards Bex, he wanted to comfort her—tell her he would be her friend. Ultimately, he let his hand drop. He crossed his arms over his chest and pulled his legs up, criss crossed in front of him. “I want to be your friend. I’m worried that I’m the danger, though.” He sighed and carded his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry. I can’t understand what it’s like to be you, but you don’t have to be afraid to be yourself. Not around me.” He hoped she knew that he meant with witchcraft, with being gay, with anything. But Kyle understood too well what it was like to want to hide from yourself.

“You’re always allowed to be scared. I don’t want to...I don’t want to make you feel like you have to be anything but yourself. Whatever self that is.” Kyle sniffled and swiped at his nose again. “Morgan is right. It’s—I have to accept some stuff, too.” How could he? How could he accept himself or what he’d done when he had almost killed someone who was actively asking to be his friend? How could he put her in that situation. “I’m scared, too,” he mumbled, voice soft and tearful. “Of myself. Of losing control. But here’s the thing Bex, I am the wolf. I don’t have control over it, but it’s not like it’s a separate entity. It’s me; just pure primal instinct. I wanted to attack you. I wanted to kill you. It feels good to lose control, even for just a minute. The adrenaline is…a rush. But I wake up, I come back to myself, and I see what I’ve done. And I hate who that person is, but it’s still me. At the end of the day, I can’t separate myself from the wolf. We’re the same.” The tears started falling freely, spilling over his cheeks and dripping off his jaw. “If I had killed you, I couldn’t ever forgive myself. I can’t now. I need to—to work on it. That’s why Nell gave me wolfsbane.” He didn’t originally want to tell Bex about that; he didn’t want to tell her that he was being held together at his most vulnerable, by a fucking flower. But now, spilling all this to her about the wolf—it felt like the right time. “I’m working on it so I don’t ever hurt someone the way I hurt you. If I did, I wouldn’t blame Nell and Mina for doing what they had to.”

Bex watched him reach out, but stop. Why was he so hesitant, now, when he’d been so ready earlier? He’d even held her face and wiped off the blood. She wondered if it was because he thought he was going to hurt her, now, that she’d admitted her fears again. She could still remember how it felt, what had happened, the pain. Sometimes she woke up in a cold sweat screaming from it. Sometimes she felt like she was being clawed again. Sometimes she saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye and she was reliving the whole thing again. It still ate at every part of her, the death that could have happened, and the pain she had as the reminder. But she wasn’t afraid of Kyle, up here, in this tree. And she hadn’t been afraid, down there, sitting at the table. “You’re not dangerous to me anymore,” she muttered, “I tore out a man’s memories. I could stop you if I wanted to.” She wouldn’t, though. She knew she wouldn’t. Still, it was nice to think that she could. “I know. And-- you, too, you know. You-- don’t have to be afraid. Around me.”

Bex was quiet for a while, as she listened, as she absorbed what he was saying. Her heart was feeling heavy again, and she was tired. She wanted to lay in her bed and listen to Mina’s heartbeat as she fell asleep. Today had simultaneously gone much better and much worse than she’d thought, but she hadn’t torn apart a cafe crowd while having a breakdown, so it was definitely an improvement. “I heard your thoughts, Kyle,” she murmured quietly, “as a wolf.” They haunted her. “I know you wanted to kill me. But it wasn’t...you you. I remember that, too. The...loss of yourself. The loss of control. You were so scared. Up until the very end, you were so scared. That’s why I came. You needed help and I wanted to-- help. But I think...you not being in control, whether you like it or not, that’s not-- that’s not the same you as the one sitting here. And-- you shouldn’t-- you shouldn’t punish yourself for that. I-- don’t know what wolfsbane is, but if it’s anything like what I think, then, then-- please don’t hurt yourself in the process. And you know I wouldn’t let them. I won’t.” She wasn’t sure she’d forgive either of them if they killed Kyle, even if they thought they had to. He didn’t deserve that.

“You—,” Kyle paused and raised a hand, motioning for the conversation to slow down. “You did what? Ripped out his memories? What does that mean?” He might not know a lot about witches or magic, but could Nell do that too? Could all witches do that? What did that even mean? He had a dozen selfish requests lingering at the back of his mind—could you do that for me?—but he tried to brush aside the thoughts. He didn’t want that, not really, and he couldn’t ask Bex to do something like that, not that she would ever agree to it. “I’m not afraid,” he started to say, but he cut himself off. He was afraid, just not of Bex. Tentatively he reached back out and placed a hand on her knee. “I’m not afraid,” he repeated, with more conviction this time. If they were going to move past this together, he needed to trust himself around Bex, as hard as it was.

Bex was so adamant that Kyle wasn’t the wolf. She heard his thoughts, but she didn’t live through the shift. “How can you be so sure which thoughts were my own? How can you know I didn’t want to—don’t still want to—kill you?” His hand fell from her knee and he pulled his legs up to his chest, mirroring her posture. “I don’t know what’s me and what’s the wolf. It’s so hard. That’s why I have the wolfsbane it—,” how could he explain it without sounding like he was actively abusing it? Was he? “—it helps me calm down. Enough of it puts me to sleep. On the full moon, that’s enough to ensure I don’t hurt anyone. On any other day… I just want to make sure I’m level headed. It’s fine.” Was it fine? Kyle was telling half truths more than he was outright lying. Had Bex been in his head long enough to know? He hoped she didn’t. “I’m sorry this got—this conversation got way darker than I expected it to.” He chuckled to himself without any joy behind the sound, and pawed at his damp cheeks in an effort to dry them.

“It means what I said it means,” Bex stated matter-of-factly. She didn’t need to add on that she was pretty sure it hadn’t worked right, and that the nosebleeds were because there were memories in her head that weren’t her own. She looked over at Kyle, as he reached back out and put a hand on her knee. She shifted one of her own hands to dig under his and curl their fingers together. “I’m not, either,” she said back, quietly, but firmly. And really, she wasn’t. The fear she felt was for a memory, not the present. The fear she felt was about dying, losing control, not about sitting with her friend in a tree. “So..let’s stop worrying so much, and...work through this together? If-- that’s okay?”

At that, Bex had to laugh. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to, but she did. “Kyle, if you wanted to kill me, you’ve had plenty of opportunity. You could’ve just let me drown, or dropped me into the water to be eaten, or push me out of the tree right now. I was in your head for two weeks. I know you don’t want to kill me.” She quieted a little, then, and looked across the small space of the branch between them. “Well, maybe...someone can help you figure that out? Who-- who you are, who the wolf is? And, maybe one day-- they can be the same person. But...how much of ourself are we, really, if we don’t have control? Isn’t control what makes us...us?” His laugh threw her a moment, but she gave a shallow smile. “Don’t apologize. Guess that’s just what happens when you get stuck up a tree with someone.I promise I won’t tell Mina you almost got me eaten by a demonic otter.”

Right, so Bex could do that now. That was new. Kyle’s eyebrows raised and he blinked. He had so many more questions, but he let them die on his tongue. He didn’t want to push her past what she was comfortable talking about, so he dropped it. “Right,” he said softly, then repeated it with more gusto. “Right. We stop worrying and work on this together.” He looked down at where their fingers were laced together and smiled genuinely.

The laugh startled Kyle and the smile fell from his face. It was quickly replaced with a look of confusion. Bex was so sure he wasn’t a threat to her anymore. He appreciated the faith she had in him. He wished he had the same faith in himself. “I’m gonna keep working on it. I haven’t thrown in the towel quite yet,” he said, nodding. “Thank you. For being yourself.” The mention of Mina had him looking up at Bex. “Speaking of being yourself…” he mumbled under his breath. “Hey, I didn’t hand feed you to the otter. How was I supposed to know that today is the day that the fabric of space and time falls apart?” He chuckled to himself again. Cocking his head, he addressed the other part of Bex’s statement. “What will you tell Mina? About today.”

Bex let a gentle smile curl onto her face. It crinkled the edges of her eyes and she leaned her chin on her knees, still squeezing Kyle’s hand. His hands were warm, and much bigger than hers, and they fit in a way different from Mina’s, from Morgan’s. She hadn’t figured out what, yet, but friends could be a start. Maybe even good friends, one day.

“Me, too,” Bex said, determined to not let him be the only one dragging themself through this mud. They’d created it together, they could clean it up together. She didn’t think she’d fully convinced Kyle that he wasn’t a danger to her anymore, but she had taken many precautions, and for the moment, that was all they could do. Until they had control, until they felt good about themselves, that was all they could do. She chuckled softly, light in her throat. “I’m kidding,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I...don’t know yet. Probably...the truth? I’ve been trying to be better about that, about...letting her know things. She always worries so much, and finds out things, anyway. I don’t want her to worry, but, you know...she’s protective. She’d worry anyway. In fact, she’s probably pacing around worried right now. She said she was going for a job, but I doubt she was relaxed enough to.”

Kyle laughed quietly and easily. As quickly as things had gotten tense again, here they were, smoothing them back out. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get whiplash from the rapid shifts in mood today. Anxiety, calm, panic, relief, guilt, sadness—all in one day. He needed a nap after this. The day had been a lot to handle. He listened carefully to Bex talk about Mina. He absorbed what she was saying. Did she not see it, though? Mina clearly cared very much for Bex. Why was Bex so adamant that they were absolutely not together?

“It sounds like Mina cares a lot about you,” Kyle said carefully. “And it sounds like you care a lot about her, too. Can I ask you a kind of weird question?” He didn’t leave much more than a beat of silence before he pressed on. He didn’t want Bex to say no, and this was a very important question. “Does Mina know that you’re definitely not dating? Like, she’s aware that you’re definitely just friends?” He tried to choose his words in a way that didn’t sound incendiary, but there was no good way to ask without the question sounding loaded. Maybe it was a loaded question, but it was one Kyle needed an answer to.

Bex felt her entire body flush at the question. “I-- she-- we--” she stuttered through words, words she didn’t even know how to string anything else to. “We’re not just-- we’re--” she felt like she didn’t know any words anymore. She didn’t know English or anything language, really. She only knew that she didn’t know the answer to Kyle’s question. Did Mina know? Did Mina care? Did Mina...want more? Did Bex? There were too many questions, actually, that that one question brought up. She pulled her hand away from Kyle’s and glanced away, cheeks burning pink. “I don’t know what we are, okay? We...haven’t talked about it. I just-- want her to be happy, is-- isn’t that enough? Does it have to be something more? Something labeled?” Does it have to mean she was gay? Her body seemed to stiffen on instinct, heartbeat quickening. She looked down and found that the water seemed to be low enough to walk in. Other people were climbing down from their hideouts. The strange women fish were flopping around uselessly, gasping for breath without enough water. She unfurled herself and started scooting towards a lower branch, reaching her foot out. She didn’t want to be here anymore.

Open mouth insert paw foot. Kyle bit his lip. He knew he was treading into dangerous waters in a lot of ways today. Clearly Bex was uncomfortable. She was blushing and moving to get out of the tree. Whatever little peace they had made today had clearly been shattered again. “I’m sorry—,” he said, reaching out to stop her from getting down from the tree. “I didn’t—I said that all wrong I think. You don’t have to talk to me about this, Bex. I just wanted to try to let you know that you can, if you want to. I won’t make you talk to me about it, but I understand how you’re feeling.” Maybe that wasn’t true. He didn’t know, not really. But he could make a pretty good guess. His first crush on a boy in middle school had really thrown him for a loop. But he’d had the time to find peace with it, and wanted to offer that to Bex now. “It’s fine if you’re gay, or bisexual, or if you don’t know what to call yourself. I don’t either, to be honest. But it’s okay to like Mina and admit that. Your friends, your family—and I’m talking about Morgan when I say that—they still love you.”

“Stop it!” Bex said loudly, and it made her head hurt. She pulled her arm away from him. “Stop it!” She didn’t want to talk about this. Or think about it. She had a good thing and she just wanted to keep it that way and talking about it might make it go away and that terrified her. It terrified her to think about what Kyle was saying. And maybe, somewhere, she knew she needed to. Talk about it. Confront it. But she didn’t want to right now. She latched onto the branch as she crawled down, her foot slipping. Another branch snapped and fell into the water. “I’m not talking about this. I’m not talking about this to anyone. I’m not gay. I’m not, I can’t be. It’s just-- it’s just Mina. I’m not--” she felt herself spiraling again, falling back into that place where her heart felt like it was being ripped from her chest and every bruise she’d ever had was burning on her body. She was shaking and didn’t even know it. “You don’t understand. How could you? You don’t. You don’t know how I’m feeling or what I’m feeling or what my life was like. You don’t understand.” She couldn’t move anymore and it took every last bit of energy she had left to keep herself from crying. “I want to go home.” She demanded, her voice cracking. “I’d like to go home now.” She wanted to call Mina. She wanted to be somewhere safe. She wanted to curl up under her blanket and maybe never come back out. Not if this was what waited for her in the world. Not if this was what everyone inevitably asked her about. She didn’t have an answer for them. And it terrified her, because she knew, one day, Mina would be the one asking, and then what would she say?

Well, that hadn’t gone well. That had gone even less well than expected. He didn’t blame her, honestly. It was a confusing, scary thing to deal with alone. The snapping branches beneath Bex’s feet made Kyle’s stomach do flips. He felt dizzy if he looked down, so he looked at Bex and tried not to think about falling. “Can I help you down out of the tree? I don’t want you to fall. I know you’re capable of getting down yourself, but I would like to help you if you would like help.” He tried to speak calmly and quietly, but his voice wavered. He held in the flinch this time when Bex’s voice was sharp and dangerous. She was lashing out because she was afraid. Hadn’t Kyle done the same thing a hundred times? “You’re right, I don’t understand. But I can make a pretty good guess. You’re scared. That’s okay, I’m not trying to make you come out to me or anything. I don’t want that for you. All I want is to let you know that you have someone you can talk to if you ever want to.” He looked at Bex in silence for a few moments and offered her a hand. “Can I take you home now?” He had ruined the day, again. The least he could offer now was a ride back home.

Bex held onto the branch as if her life depended on it. It didn’t. At most, she’d break a bone from the fall. Which, bad, considering she’d promised Mina she’d be good and not get into trouble and, really, this wasn’t her fault. How was she supposed to know a portal to mermaid world was going to open up in the middle of the park? It wasn’t her fault. But she felt glued to this spot, branches barely holding her weight, as she tried her best to keep herself from crying. She didn’t want to cry again. She didn’t want Kyle thinking he’d ruined everything again, although she was pretty sure her yelling at him might’ve done that enough. “I’m sorry,” she sputtered, pressing her cheek to the branch, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I don’t want to talk about that, any of that, I don’t. I don’t need to know that. I don’t. I can’t think about that right now.” She needed control of her emotions, not to let them control her. She’d been doing so good. She’d been doing so good. She felt like she might explode, again. “Please take me home,” she muttered, “I want out of this tree.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, voice softening even more. “We won’t talk about it. Grab ahold of me,” Kyle said, before he wrapped his own arms around Bex as gently as he could. “Is this okay?” he murmured against her shoulder. His ribs were still sore after the Eddie alleyway incident, (why was it always an alleyway?) but he didn’t care if it hurt, he needed to make Bex feel safe. Once Bex was secure, Kyle started slowly and carefully climbing down. Once they were close enough to the ground that he felt like they wouldn’t be hurt, he let go and landed safely on his feet. The ground, still saturated, squished beneath his feet. His shoes immediately were soaked. Kyle grimaced and let out a soft groan, both from the pain that spiked through his abdomen and the sensation of wet shoes. “Sorry, sorry,” he rushed out. “I hope I didn’t jostle you too much.” He set Bex on her feet, trying to make sure she was steady. “Careful,” he mumbled, taking a step back. “You okay? I parked over here.” He gestured vaguely in a general direction, and started to walk. He kept his eyes on Bex, expecting her to follow. “Watch out for the fish. And...mermaids?” He didn’t know what else to say, but he had the overwhelming feeling that he should. Clearly, things were going all wrong and it was all his fault. If he had just kept his mouth shut today, or not chosen to go to the damned park—he was already slipping back into the what ifs.

Bex just nodded. She didn’t want to talk anymore. This always happened. People asked her about it and then she froze up and then things got ruined, because that’s what she did, she ruined things. Everything she touched. Kyle, Mina, Morgan-- fuck, even Dani, Eddie, Nell-- she just ruined it, because that’s what she was. Ruined. Her parents had taken everything from her and she hadn’t found anything to replace the bits they’d pried out of her. Nothing that wasn’t worth risking another person. She clung to Kyle as he lowered them down, and buried her face in his shoulder. She wanted to call Mina, but she didn’t want her to see her like this and think it was because of Kyle, because he’d hurt her, or upset her or-- well, maybe some of that was true, but she didn’t want Mina to see it. She didn’t need her to be mad at Kyle again. “I’m okay,” she said finally, and Kyle started walking away, and she grabbed his arm and pulled him back and hugged him tightly. “I’m sorry,” she said into his shirt, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.” She squeezed a little tighter. “I-- I’m just scared.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I’m so scared.”

Okay ow. The hug hurt, but Bex didn’t know Kyle had been nearly pancaked by a dumpster. She needed this. He bit back a groan and wrapped his arms around her, hooking his chin over her shoulder. “Hey,” he soothed, and started rubbing small circles onto Bex’s back. “You don’t need to say sorry. I’m really sorry I upset you. I know it’s a sensitive subject.” If he didn’t have super sensory hearing, he might’ve missed what she said next. Bex knew just how to break his heart into a million pieces over and over. “It’s okay. It’s really scary. Everything is really scary. It’ll be okay. I’m here.” He wanted nothing more than to protect Bex from the things that made her this upset. But she didn’t want him to, and it’s hard to protect someone from themself. “We’re pretty messed up. That’s okay, too. This isn’t forever, and things are going to be okay.” Kyle found himself swaying gently from side to side with Bex and his eyes drifted shut.

Bex breathed in deeply and held it. Just like she was taught. And then, in for three. Out for five. In for three. Out for five. She felt her body relaxing in Kyle’s grip. His touch was gentle. Soothing. She stopped shaking as her body calmed down and she finally opened her eyes, glancing around. Her shoes were soaking wet, and there was probably blood on her pants and her shirt and wow, even if she didn’t tell Mina what had happened, this all looked kind of bad. She sniffled and pulled away gently, too ashamed to look Kyle in the eyes. He’d said everything was going to be okay, but how could he know? He didn’t know. One day, someone would come and take her away from all this. She knew it. She was holding on as tightly as possible, she wanted to stay, but she knew. Breathing in deep, she looked up at Kyle and tried to smile. “Thank you,” she mumbled, chewing on her lip, “for meeting with me.” She scrubbed her hand across her eyes and nodded slowly. “I’m glad you came.”

Kyle felt Bex relaxing in his arms and smiled sadly. It was nice to know she felt comfortable enough to relax, but he hated that this was the circumstance. He tried to breathe in time with her, slowing his own breathing with hers. It surprised him when the tension ebbed away from his body. He would have to remember this in the future. Reluctant to let go, Kyle stepped back, looking at Bex with furrowed brows. She looked so...small. She had a way of looking breakable, like one more thing would undo her completely. He had the urge to grab her right again, but resisted. “Thank you,” he insisted. “I’m glad I came, too. Y’know, there aren’t many other people I’d like to sit in a tree with while we fear for our lives.” He cracked a small smile and extended an elbow for Bex to take. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: kyle #domestic abuse mention tw #drug mention tw #memory loss mention tw #kyle #common decency

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ghostpeblewrite · 4 years ago

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Paradoxical - Chapter 7

~~~~~~

Toast is sitting in the living room, spacing out, when he feels the shift. The air in the room seems to get thicker with impending doom, the unsettling dread hitting him like an oncoming train. He sits up straighter, looking around.

He’s home alone. Spooker and Colon left a bit ago, and are yet to return. He hasn’t seen Ghost since yesterday, the thought of that alone wringing his heart out with sandpaper. The feeling doesn’t go away though, the dread.

A sound from the other room spurs him into motion. He walks slowly, grabbing his gun from the coffee table on his way. He doesn’t remember setting it there, but that’s where he found it.

He moves towards the room. Some part of his brain finds it unsettling, walking like he does on the job where there could be a dangerous entity around any corner, but in his own home, where he’s supposed to be safe. He brushes it off, approaching the door to the room quietly. He gets into position outside, hand on the handle. He counts himself down.

3…

2…

No time for 1, he turns the handle, bursting into the room with his gun up.

There’s no one there. The sound persists.

He takes a deep breath, slowly wandering further in, keeping his guard up. He knows better than to relax when you hear odd sounds. He quietly tracks down the source of the sound, tense the entire time.

Eventually, after poking around several things, he finds it. Buried in the corner with the other outdated equipment, is the wigglegraph. Toast stares in confusion, watching the little arm dance up and down, recording readings that should be impossible in this day and age. He doesn’t understand it.

He hears a noise outside the window. His head snaps in that direction, and he walks over.

What he sees is something that makes him question his sanity. That makes that sense of dread grip him tighter, preventing his breathing for a moment.

Outside his house, slowly shambling their way towards him, is a horde of undeads. It’s not a small one, either. There’s an impossible number of them out there, all shambling towards him. Slow and easy to pick off in small groups, but a large crowd like this can be devastating.

Toast panics. He can’t deal with this number of undeads on his own. So he does the only thing he knows will help him.

He runs for the control panel of the Emergency Security Systems, aptly named by Johnny Ghost. A few years ago, when Ghost was dealing with a lot of paranoia after a particularly bad job, he insisted that he and Toast put in a security system on the house. It took forever to set up, and later on Colon helped enchant it a bit more, but eventually it was made. It’s basically a giant forcefield that goes around the house, preventing any sort of paranormal entity from getting in. It’s the only thing Toast knows will help.

He rushes a bit in his panic to get to it, nearly falling on his ass as he turns a corner, but he does manage to get there in one piece. He fumbles with the controls, his palms already beginning to sweat. The many hours of Ghost forcing him to repeat the steps until he could do it perfectly several times over escape him for a brief moment. Muscle memory takes over, guiding his shaking hands through the steps.

The sound of the system coming to life, the green lights blaring, seem so distant. So far away. The sound is muffled as he falls to the floor, his hands pulling at his hair.

He has no idea how long it will hold, if it will at all.

He does know that if it fails, he’s dead. Toast is thankful for the umpteenth time in his life for Ghost. Sure, he can be a royal pain in the ass sometimes. He’s too stubborn for his own good, and sometimes he gets right on Toast’s nerves and makes Toast feel like pulling his own hair out, but he can also be genuinely wonderful at times.

Sometimes.

Those moments are rare, sure, but that just means they’re more special. They stick out more in Toast’s memory. He remembers fondly that time he and Ghost were younger, and Toast was walking across a room in an old second story when the floor gave out. Ghost freaked out so much, he didn’t stop to think what he was doing. Toast just remembers Ghost yelling his name and then both of them were lying on the splintered remains of the first story floor they just crashed through, the dust settling around them. Ghost had meant to pull Toast up, but had moved too quickly on the already weak wood, sending them both through it. Ghost started genuinely laughing at how absurd it all was, and the sound was one of the most beautiful ones Toast has ever heard. He rarely hears Ghost genuinely laugh, especially these days. Toast had laughed too, too caught up in Ghost’s laugh to worry about their wellbeing for a moment.

Toast flinches a bit as he hears the cries of the undead outside the barrier, upset they can’t get in. He covers his ears with his hands.

Another thing he appreciates Ghost for- His ability to distract Toast, even in the most painful or terrifying moments. Toast isn’t exactly the boldest of men. He finds it hard to talk to people, which is why he and Ghost work so well together. Ghost does all the talking.

Toast remembers one time when they were young adults, just starting out in the business, when he had broken his arm. It was his own fault, really, he wasn’t quite looking at where he was stepping in a particularly rickety house. Fell down a rather large hole that he later felt really stupid about missing. The pain was searing, but he can barely remember it now. All he remembers is Ghost running over to him, his face white with panic. As the two made their way back to Ghost’s old truck, Ghost would not stop talking. Not that Toast ever wanted him to.

He talked about anything and everything. Told Toast stories from his childhood- Though, Toast knew most of them already- and from the time they spent apart. Talked about people he’d met. Stupid things he’d done. He talked the whole way home, never running out of things to say. It helped Toast to forget the pain.

It’s one thing of many Ghost is good at. Talking endlessly, to the point that you could even forget your own pain, just clinging to every word he says.

Toast thinks it’s less about the subject of the stories, and more the way Ghost speaks. He speaks with a sort of importance, demanding your attention. He has a way of sounding like he knows exactly what he’s doing even when he hasn’t the slightest clue. He’s so sure of himself at all times. Toast wishes he knew how he did it. Especially when telling stories, the demand of attention always manages to have Toast holding onto every word he says, unable to tear his eyes away. Ghost could tell Toast the sky was green and Toast would just smile and nod along, unable to disagree simply because it was Ghost, and Ghost just knows how to talk.

Toast wishes Ghost were here right now, to talk to him. Help distract him from the horror outside. Not even Spooker and Colon are here.

He’s alone.

Endlessly alone.

~~~

“Well, that sucked,” Spooker sighs as they walk back to the car.

“It always works in cop shows!” Colon frowns, bummed out.

“Maybe we couldn’t see the records because we’re not cops?” Spooker suggests.

“Maybe, but still, I’m sure it’s gotta be a storage unit. A house just doesn’t sound right to me,” Colon says as he unlocks the car for them both, getting in.

“Maybe we should come back in cop uniforms?” Spooker shrugs, getting in as well.

“That’s illegal, Spooks,” Colon says with a smile, starting the car.

“It’s only illegal if you get caught,” Spooker reminds him, also smiling.

“True,” Colon nods, starting to drive.

The two continue to talk about nonsense on their way back to the house, only stopping when Colon doesn’t respond to Spooker’s last quip.

“Colon-?” Spooker asks as the car comes to a sudden halt.

“Spooks, look,” Colon says quietly, staring dead ahead. Spooker looks, his eyes widening in fear.

All down the road are undead. All around the HQ, too. They’re everywhere.

It’s an impossible number. The few closest to them turn towards the car lazily. Colon throws it in reverse.

“Colon- Wait!” Spooker yells as Colon turns, starting to get the fuck out of there. “What about Toast?!”

“Oh- Dang!” Colon puts the brakes on again, now a lot further. “Call him??”

Spooker nods, pulling his phone out, dialing up Toast.

Toast jumps at the sound of his phone ringing, yanking him out of his pleasant memories. He fishes it out of his pocket quietly. Upon seeing the name SPOOKER displayed, he picks up.

“Spooker?! Where are you, are you okay??” Toast asks. Without Ghost around, all Toast’s worry is being directed at other people.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Spooker’s voice answers. “What about you??? There are… So many zombies!!”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Toast says, trying to put his calm persona back on. It’s hard though, considering the situation he’s in.

“They’re all down the street- It's terrifying!” Spooker re-emphasizes.

Toast sighs. “Spooker, please- Just- Get as far away as possible, okay? Go find help.”

“Help? We don’t need help, we’re PIE!” Spooker says proudly.

Toast wishes he had the same confidence. “Spooker, please. Go. Get. Help. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Toast!” Spooker says.

“Great! Please do hurry though, I don’t know how long this will hold,” Toast says, allowing a tiny bit of worry to slip through.

“We will!” Spooker says, hanging up. He looks at Colon.

“So, what did he say?”

“Doesn’t matter, I have an idea on how to get in there,” Spooker says, smiling.

“What’s the plan?” Colon asks.

“Well- You know how in all those movies they act like zombies?” Spooker says.

The first part of the plan was pretty unpleasant. They had to smother themselves in unscenely things. To mask their ‘human smell’, Spooker said. ‘They always do it in the movies!’

Now smelling like literal garbage, they rough themselves up a bit in dirt and mud before slowly approaching the crowd. The undeads barely acknowledge them.

They continue moving through the crowd painfully slowly, doing their best not to disturb the undeads around them. One of them actually turns to look at them as they approach, but they just stop in their tracks until it turns back around.

It’s kind of eerie, all these undead just stood calmly around the HQ. Part of Spooker thinks they should be doing something at least, but he’s glad they’re not.

Eventually the pair make it to the barrier. They went around back, in case anyone was watching the front. They can be smart sometimes.

They reach the door, opening it and rushing inside. Once the door is closed behind them, they allow themselves to celebrate quietly. The house is dark.

Their celebration is cut short by the sound of someone cocking a shotgun.

“Turn around,” a very angry brit sounds. “Slowly.”

Spooker and Colon turn ever so slowly, shaken with fear.

When Toast sees their faces, his anger dissipates. It’s replaced with utter disbelief.

“Spooker?? Colon?” Toast says, pointing the shotgun down.

“Hi,” Spooker says quietly.

Toast is suddenly full of anger again. “Oh- God da- Can’t you two listen for ONCE in your lives?!?!? I told you to go get help!! Why do you NEVER listen?!!” He yells, his calm persona cracking a bit under the pressure.

Spooker shrinks a bit out of fear. Colon takes a step back. Toast never yells, unless it’s to be heard across a large distance.

“I… I thought we’d be stronger together…” Spooker says quietly, trying a small smile, “Y’know… PIE…” “Spooker-!” Toast yells, but then stops himself. He closes his eyes, balling his free hand into a tight fist. The anger seems to melt away, and he takes a deep breath. “Spooker. That’s… Sweet, honestly, it is, but I told you to get help. Now we’re just all stuck in here.”

“Oh…” Spooker says quietly. “I uhm… Didn’t think this through.”

“I didn’t think you did,” Toast mutters, turning away. “Go shower, you two smell horrid.”

Spooker looks at Colon, the two scampering off to the bathroom. ~~~ this is probably bad but ooh welll

#cw cursing #swearing tw #this is prolly shit tbh #but i aint fixen it #paradoxical story

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snarkymonkeyprime · 4 years ago

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Okay, I had the scene of Ethan carting Kai in my head yesterday and it spawned this. Please enjoy!

“Look at him.”

Ethan followed Chernov’s gesture to see Kai face-planted on the table. He snorted and sipped from his champagne glass. He didn’t think Kai had been drinking that much but by the way he was muttering into the table, it’s clear he’d done a number on himself.

Ethan patted Kai on the back, chuckling when the other man lifted his head up wearily, squinting.

“Wazzat?”

“Having fun down there?” Ethan asked.

Kai made a noise and planted his face back on the table. “Spinny.”

“Suppose I can’t blame him for wanting to be drunk; he does work for Xerynn,” Chernov stated. He lifted his coffee cup. “That’s probably been pent up for months,” he added.

Ethan laughed at that. When he’d first learned Kai worked for the that lawyer, Xerynn, he’d been shocked and fully expected to discover that Kai was as cutthroat and duplicitous as the black-eyed bastard. Instead, he’d met a nervous man with no filter who spent most of his time bad-mouthing his own boss. A welcome surprise, for sure.

That even Chernov tolerated him and his antics spoke volumes. The lieutenant hated Xerynn and typically avoided anything to do with him. Kai, however, managed to fracture that quite quickly, becoming an oddly common occurrence at the precinct. Even now, celebrating Ethan’s promotion to Grade 2, Kai was a welcome addition to their little shindig.

Jess had already called it quits an hour earlier and Lisa, a few hours before that. Now, it was simply he, Chernov, and the drunken Kai at the bar. Ethan, honestly, wouldn’t have complained if it ended up just being him and Kai. Both of them had opted to get a room at the hotel so as not to worry about their drive home. And Ethan might have entertained some steamy fantasies earlier in the night. Fantasies now firmly squashed given how out of it Kai appeared.

He’d been surprised by plenty in relation to Kai over the year. Kai had a tendency to speak his mind, accidentally, which had been only one of the many charming things Ethan discovered about the other man. He was clever and more than once, he’d found information that helped out the squad on several occasions. He had the oddest roommate and he still hadn’t quite figured out what he did for Xerynn. Kai himself only stated he collected things; so, a messenger? Not that it made sense and Ethan was aware enough to know that Kai was keeping something back.

As he sipped his glass, he watched Kai as he mumbled into the bar top. As a cop, he knew better than to rely on face value. The fact that he knew Kai kept things back should have been a warning sign. Should have kept him firmly on the side of acquaintance. There were times when he felt he’d nearly seen beyond whatever barrier Kai kept up but he never was able to fully rationalize what he thought he was seeing. But, Kai himself had wormed his squirrely way into Ethan’s resolve and at this point, he didn’t quite know where he stood.

Chernov yawned and set his mug down. “You should get him up to his room.”

Given Kai was now singing a mumbled, off-key version of “Evacuate the Dance Floor” to the bar top, Ethan had to agree. He set down his glass and patted Kai on the shoulder. “C’mon, Hot Stuff; time for bed.”

Kai propped his chin on the bar, blinking slow at Ethan. And then smiled.

“Okay. You know, you’re too pretty to be a cop.” He blinked and shot Ethan a set of finger guns. “Pretty Cop Man.”

Chernov barked a sharp laugh. “Confirmed: he’s smashed.” He pulled out his wallet, fishing for his credit card. “Get him to his room before he does something really stupid.” He wagged his card. “I’ll settle the tab and call it a night.” He rose and patted Ethan on the shoulder. “Well done, Ethan. You deserve it.”

Ethan smiled weakly at the thanks before turning back to Kai who still blinked at him, deep in his drunkenness.

Pretty Cop Man. That had to be the worst part of all of this. Kai was . . . downright adorable on a good day. He’d been fully prepared to distrust Kai when he’d learned of his connection to Xerynn. Instead, as he’d gotten to know the other man, he’d developed more than bit of a crush on him. Kai was shorter than he was, with shaggy brown hair and wide brown eyes. And for as much as he grumbled about his job, he was quick to laugh and joke, often pulling Ethan along into his misadventures. Which meant he spent a lot of time with Kai and spent a lot of time thinking about Kai.

Years of work as a police detective had given him fine skills at maintaining a poker face. And while Ethan was typically able to keep such thoughts to himself given their odd working relationship, that didn’t mean he didn’t ponder things. A lot. Possibly more than was healthy. And while he’d never asked, he’d always assumed Kai was straight. Possibly less straight when drunk?

“That sucks,” he muttered, getting off his stool. He tugged on Kai’s arm, coaxing the same. “C’mon. Pretty Cop Man wants you to go to bed.”

Kai blew a raspberry in response but complied. Sort of. Mostly he fell off the stool, colliding with Ethan in the process.

“Easy there,” Ethan murmured, righting him. “Just got to get you upstairs and let you sleep it off.”

Grumbling and rubbing his forehead, Kai stumbled along beside him, frequently colliding with Ethan in the process. Eventually, in an effort to save himself from further bruising, Ethan latched a hand to Kai’s collar, attempting to keep him walking a fairly straight line.

They made it to the elevator and Kai leaned against the back, staring up at the lighted panels above. “Hey, Ethan?”

No more Pretty Cop Man, I guess. He turned slightly. Kai was still leaning his head against the elevator wall but he’d angled his head enough to meet Ethan’s gaze.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Thanks for inviting me,” he murmured. He shut his eyes, rolling his head back. “And good job, Detective Policeman!” he added, holding up a thumb. He dropped his hand and pushed away from the wall. He stood for about a second before teetering forward.

Ethan lunged and caught him, pushing him upright. “You don’t drink this much that often, do you?” he asked with a laugh.

Kai squinched his eyes shut. “No,” he moaned. “My head hurts.”

Ethan looked at the elevator dial. He and Kai both had rooms on the twelfth floor. Five more to go. He let go of Kai and immediately grabbed him a second time when he nearly crumpled. “Okay, gonna do this the hard way.” He turned around and squatted down a bit, sliding his hands under Kai’s thighs. “I don’t trust you not the end up on the floor.”

Kai flopped against his back, his arms draped over Ethan’s shoulders and down his chest.

“M’yank you,” he mumbled into Ethan’s hair. “It’s all spinny,” he whined.

Ethan hiked him up a bit, settling Kai a bit more comfortably against his back. “I’ll bet. Maybe don’t try to drink an entire bottle of rum?”

“Not rum, tequila,” Kai corrected. He sighed, blowing air against Ethan’s neck, which unfortunately left Ethan shivering. “Tequila, tequila, tequila,” he babbled, soon singing the word over and over until it slurred into nonsense.

“I have to admit, you’re pretty entertaining when drunk,” Ethan stated as the elevator arrived to their floor. He stepped out, grunting under Kai’s weight.

Kai’s singing faded and he sighed, wrapping his arms loose around Ethan’s neck, and nuzzling him. “Comfy,” he murmured.

Ethan swallowed, his face reddening. “So, uh, Kai?” he prodded as the headed down the hall. “Question for you.” He took the babbled noise in response as an affirmative. “You, uh, you seeing anyone?”

“Nuhuh.” He hummed a new song for a few steps and then sighed. “I wanna though.”

What am I doing? Ethan licked his lips as he rounded the corner to the corridor where their rooms sat. “What’s your choice? Women?” He cleared his throat. “Men?”

Kai shifted and propped his chin on Ethan’s shoulder. “Women are pretty,” he sighed.

Well, that answered that.

“Men are prettier.”

Or not? He considered. “So, you’re bi?”

“Bi, bi, bi!” Kai sang, mimicking N’SYNC this time.

Ethan rolled his eyes, mouth quirking. “I think that’s an answer then.” And so damn heartening that Ethan nearly whooped. Until the last second when he recalled he was carting a drunken man on his back. That would probably not have earned me points, he thought.

He reached Kai’s room and halted, letting him slide off his back. Kai wobbled again and Ethan held him up by the shoulder before digging into Kai’s back pocket.

“That’s . . . my ass,” Kai intoned.

Ethan snorted, coming up with Kai’s wallet. “Sure is.” He plucked Kai’s room key from its confines. “And this is your key.”

“Key!” Kai exclaimed. He took back his wallet and beamed at Ethan. “My knight in shining armor.” He tried to tuck his wallet back in his pocket but it thumped to the floor instead. He turned clumsily, staring down at it. “Aww.”

Ethan burst out laughing. When Kai turned to look at him, he shook his head. “Sorry, Kai. You’re a bit of a mess right now.”

Kai yawned and shrugged. “I’m a bit of a mess most of the time,” he said. He rubbed his eyes. “I am sorry to have thrust my mess on you,” he stated, holding his arms out. “It travels.” He leaned in, cupping a hand around his mouth even though his volume didn’t change. “Blame Xerynn; he started it.”

“That, I can believe,” he replied. But he sobered quickly. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a mess, Kai. Far from it.” He bent down and picked up Kai’s wallet before returning to the door and swiping the key card. Not risking a glance back, he added, “And if you are a mess, I like your mess.” He pushed the door open after the beep, holding it for Kai to walk through.

After a second’s hesitation, his eyes unfocused but direct, Kai shuffled his way in, swatting at the wall to flick on the light. “Bed!” he exclaimed. “Oh, bed; I love you.” He trotted forward and flopped face-first onto the neatly made bed. “Bed!” he repeated, voice muffled.

Ethan dropped Kai’s key and wallet on the dresser and leaned against it. He couldn’t stop grinning. Even though Kai was about a second from passing out, he lay prostrate, his legs kicking behind him as he repeated “bed” over and over again.

Shit, I never stood a chance, did I? He cleared his throat and stood. “Kai, get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” He reached out and grabbed one flailing foot, shaking it once. “Try not to overdo it next time.”

Kai stopped kicking and turned his head, cheek against the pale blue quilt, hair a complete mess and eyes bloodshot. He smiled at Ethan. “Thank you, Sir Knight,” he mumbled. He yawned again, eyes drooping shut. He burrowed into his bed before adding, “I like your mess, too,” he mumbled.

He’d nearly missed the words, honestly. But Kai had cracked open one eye, once again direct, if bloodshot. “Good night,” Ethan husked, turning to go.

He stepped out into the hall, letting out a sharp breath. He didn’t know if Kai was so drunk that he’d forget their conversation but Ethan, at least, wasn’t about to. If anything, it gave him a bit of encouragement that maybe there was something more there. That, friendship aside, Kai might see a bit more between them like Ethan was beginning to.

He paced to the end of the corridor and swiped the key to his room. It had been a long day and an even longer night. He’d received a promotion, free dinner and drinks, and a hint that he had a chance at something with a man he was fast falling for.

All in all, not a bad day, as most things went.

#kaithan #kai hunter walker #hhnf #ethan scott

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 5 years ago

Note

starker - “you’ve been crying. i can tell.” w/ peter saying it to tony, pls

do the thing - send in all the prompts.

Ohh, this gave me drug lord!peter / mechanic!tony vibes (you can find that verse here & here). Thanks so much for the prompt, I hope the angst is what you were looking for!

warnings: mentions of violence, Tony has mad PTSD.

Being on the arm of one of the biggest drug kingpins on the east coast was never something Tony sought out for himself. For the most part, he led a pretty simple life. He had the garage and a few friends that he trusted enough to work in his place of sanctuary; until he met Peter, the thought of needing anything else never crossed his mind.

Fate worked in weird ways, though – in one fell swoop, Tony found himself the boyfriend of Peter Parker, drug lord of the Upper East Side. No matter how much he tried to extricate himself from the situation when everything started, Peter crawled under his skin, the man there now – his life forever changed because of it.

There were many great things about being with Peter. In his entire day’s work, the man probably dealt with more bull shit than Tony surrounded himself with in a decade. When Peter got home, he wanted to give up control and place it eagerly at Tony’s feet. There was nothing like it – being looked at like he had the key to unlocking every hidden desire Peter never thought he had or wanted. The pure devotion of loving and being loved by a man that did not give his heart to just anyone – it was intoxicating.

Peter also had a penchant for interesting conversation and learning as much as he could about a subject. After Tony picked him up because of a flat tire, Peter demanded he teach him how to do it – it was a life skill that everyone needed to know, he remembered him saying. He posed the question with heated kisses and the closeness of his body – Tony couldn’t possibly say no to a request like that.

In a lot of ways, Peter Parker was everything Tony wanted. The demands on his back were minimal, he got to have glorious sex with a gorgeous man, and he satisfied his soul. There was something to be said about that – Tony’s life was far from easy, his entire being restless most of the time. Peter brought a sense of calm with him that didn’t make sense but felt good all the same.

Truthfully, the only shitty part about being with Peter was the imminent danger they were always in. After getting kidnapped, Tony started to really pay attention to all of the interactions around him. Peter’s crew was used to him being there, so they didn’t bother trying to filter their thoughts around him. Most nights were filled with protection detail and surveillance – everyone involved with the operation waiting to strike when the other shoe dropped. Sometimes it did, mostly with a lot of shots fired and a few dead bodies.

And sometimes, it didn’t – every now and again there’d be peace to soak up and enjoy.

No matter what, though – Tony was in it for the long haul. Even if he wanted to (which he didn’t, he really, really didn’t,) there wasn’t leaving the crew now that he was so deeply tangled within it. He’d never once gone out on a job or taken any sort of payment, but that didn’t matter – Peter came with a price that everyone needed to pay, Tony included.

Those thoughts were floating around in his head all day. They’d both been particularly on edge the last couple of days – Peter was expecting a delivery, the man a little edgier than usual. Things were easy to handle when Peter touched back down to Earth and took them hand-in-hand with Tony. Shit got hard when Tony was forced to wade through the waters of a world he didn’t really know very well all by himself.

It’d been hot in the shop that day, so Tony stopped off in his apartment before heading to Peter’s place. In the 18 months they’d been together, Tony hadn’t spent a night in the big bed he splurged on a few years back in quite some time. The whole debacle of getting stuffed in the back of a car, being severely beat up, and shot at made the thought of sleeping anywhere but in the protection of Peter’s presence less than appealing. He rarely even stepped foot in the place these days, most of his stuff tucked into the dresser he’d been using for what felt like forever.

Stepping through the door, Tony immediately felt like something was off. His skin prickled, a hand moving to his hip to press against the gun he kept on his person at all times now. With his coveralls tied around his waist, he had perfect access to it if the need struck. Swiftly kicking off his boots, Tony trailed into the room, his footsteps light now without the clunky footwear. He kept his head on a swivel, his eyes wide as he looked around the room.

The further he walked into the room, the harder Tony’s heart started to thud against his chest. It seemed silly, being so paranoid in his own home – but he’d been pulled from the most unlikely of places before and couldn’t be too careful. Opening the door to his room, he sucked in a deep breath, his forehead breaking out in a sweat. The room was pitch black, the only light in the room coming from the wide open window. Frowning, Tony took a step in the room only to backpedal out a moment later.

Below the open window was a set of boot prints that did not belong to him.

Heart in his throat, Tony slipped his work boots back on and quickly left the apartment. His hands shook as he pulled his phone out of his pocket to dial Peter’s number. Tony knew the man had a lot on his plate, but this seemed important, another person coming after him – the end goal here more than likely Peter and the enterprise he juggled so precariously at such a young age.

It only took one ring for Peter to pick up. “Tony, what’s wrong? I was expecting you to walk in the door any minute,” Peter said, his voice picking up an octave, the worry in his tone evident.

“I think there was someone in my apartment. I stopped in to take a shower and grab a jacket I’d been wanting to wear from my closet. When I unlocked the door, something felt off. My bedroom window was wide open, Pete. Wide open with a set of boot prints on the floor below it. I got out of there as fast as I could. I’m scared, Pete. There was someone in my house.” Tony didn’t take a breath the entire time he spoke, his chest heavy by the time he was done.

He heard Peter inhale sharply, the sound audible, even through the phone. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Do you want me to have Happy come and pick you up? He can be there in a couple of minutes,” Peter replied. Tony could hear the gears grinding – his boyfriend probably already planning something.

Sighing, Tony ran a grease stained hand through his hair – now that he could hear Peter’s voice, he already felt a little better. “No, it’s alright. I’m going to head over there now. Just keep your head up, alright? If they’re coming after me, it’s to get to you.”

They hung up the phone a couple of minutes later, Tony packing himself into his truck and cranking the music loud to play over the thoughts that were running across the forefront of his mind. There were a few things not sitting right in the pit of his stomach – the intrusion to his house setting his nerves on fire, his kidnapping still so fresh, so present in his thoughts.

Tony pulled into the driveway and slammed his truck in park, his feet carrying him impatiently through the door on the side of the house, Happy letting him through without a second look or thought. Peter would be heading out soon to supervise the delivery, after everything with Doom, the man was extra careful and took to making sure things ran smoothly without outsider influence.

Glad to have made it back before the crew headed out, Tony let out a sigh when Peter’s arms wrapped around him. The dual guns strapped across Peter’s back dug into his chest a little with Peter holding him so close, but he didn’t care – having this proximity was more than enough in that moment.

Pulling back, Tony cupped his cheeks, his fingers gripping harder than usual. “Be careful, Pete. Promise me,” Tony whispered, the fact that Happy and several other members on Peter’s payroll were in the room not registering.

Peter leaned forward and drew him into a kiss, the touch tender. “I’ll do my best. It’ll be okay, baby. Happy is doing most of the work, anyway,” Peter mumbled, the man only pulling away enough to speak. “See you when I get back. I love you.” He wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist and gave him a brief squeeze.

“I love you too, Pete,” Tony managed to get out before Peter was pulling away, a forced smile on his lips. He reached out to snag Peter’s hand, fingers holding on until the time to let go couldn’t be ignored anymore. Tony turned to watch the flood of guys leaving the room, Peter bringing up the tail end.

“Wait up for me,” Peter threw over his shoulder, the man turning to look at Tony one more time before walking out the door.

Tony did his best not to be nervous throughout the rest of the night. There were a few guards outside the door, so he was perfectly safe within the confines of the house. His mind ran through all the different possibilities of the harm that could come to Peter over and over again – the prints in his house throwing him off way more than he originally realized. He hadn’t felt this jittery since his kidnapping.

A lot of time past – there was no denying that when midnight turned into 2AM, which slowly trickled into 4AM, that things might not be as okay as he expected. All of his text messages had been ignored, that in and of itself a little unusual. The situation must have gone bad – the entire list of instances getting ticked off one by one, regardless of the fact that he literally had no fucking clue what was happening.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Tony leaned forward, his elbows settling into the muscle of his thighs. Both hands were in his hair and before he knew it, he was crying – his chest shaking, the tears streaming down his cheeks like water from a faucet. The choking sobs made the muscles in his stomach hurt; at this point, his entire body ached from the lack of sleep and overabundance of nerves that refused to stop rushing over him in waves.

Time didn’t matter in the state he was in – his soul needed the cleanse, so he let the tears come. He was scared to turn on the TV, to check his phone, to even think now that the possibilities seemed more real than before. It’d been almost twelve hours without any communication – that was not standard operating procedure, not when Peter knew how on edge he already felt.

What could have been seconds, or minutes, or hours later, Tony felt the bed shift, a warm arm enveloping him, Peter’s scent there and real – the man alive and well despite the bumps, scrapes, and bruises that littered his face and neck. Thankfully the tears stopped falling sometime during his break down – his boyfriend didn’t need to see his complete lack of control and composure. One of the things Peter liked about him was his ability to handle every situation, even if it scared the living shit out of him.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re here,” Tony mumbled, his head turning to press into the skin of Peter’s neck. His own arms wrapped around the other’s middle and pulled him as close as he could. Maybe he didn’t deal with his kidnapping enough – the neediness overtaking him speaking louder than the courage he portrayed on a daily basis. Falling apart like this, it didn’t feel normal.

“I’m here, baby – I’m here.” He shifted, pulling back to get a better look at Tony – his gravelly voice probably giving him away. “You’ve been crying. I can tell.” Peter moved the hand wrapped around Tony’s shoulder to his cheek, the action separating them a little more. “I’m here, Tony – it’s okay. I promise, it’s okay.” Peter pressed a kiss to his nose, then each cheek before finally landing on his lips – the caress tender and slow, Peter’s lips soft against his own.

“I don’t think I’m okay, Pete,” Tony admitted, his eyes dropping, the idea of locking gazes with the man before him a little intimidating – he’d never said anything like that to another person in his entire life. The shame of weakness washed over him. Tony always kept it together, he could defy or outsmart anything; except, it seemed, PTSD.

Peter let his thumb slip across Tony’s cheek, the softest look in his eyes Tony could ever remember seeing. His head was nodding, eyes tearing up slightly.

“I know.”

#starker #ironspider #ask prompts #peter parker/tony stark #bobbie writes #angst #sentence prompt #prompt fill #nonnie #anonymous

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Rumor Has It

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler

Warning: Cursing

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Inspired by a video of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart while talking to him. This was not asked for, just something I thought up because of it. Also, I don’t know what this is. LOL

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, Riah; you need to be in front of that camera in five!” Your personal assistant/ cousin, Zora's voice, was loud as hell.

You rolled your eyes and walked out the bathroom where you were checking your messages trying to get some time to yourself. It had been a long ass day. You’d been awake since four in the morning, and it was nearing six, and still, you were doing this photoshoot. When you walked into the room you passed the wall-mounted flat-screen TV to get to your makeup artist/best friend, Kizzy. You glanced at the TV as you sat down and did a double take.

“Turn that up.”

“You saw it here first guys. This is exclusive footage caught by someone on the set. This is Chris Evans and his co-star Ana De Armas who he stars with in their new movie Knives Out. As you can see, Ana is touchy-feely. She touches his chest several times before his face and beard. Onlookers on the set said the two laughed and joked nonstop and had an easy sort of air around them, an air similar to those who’ve either been best friends for life, married or who’ve been intimate. As you guys know Ana and Chris have said they didn’t know each other before filming of this movie, so that leaves two other possibilities,” Harvey gossiped on the Thursday evening episode of TMZ.

“I mean, does it really? The guy is married to none other than fashion model turned actress Uriah Tyler. So, we know that he and Ana aren’t married,” Shavonne, another commentator at TMZ added with her hand out to say, “hold on now.” She was the only black girl there.

“That only leaves one other possibility,” Dax reported. You knew all their faces well. You’d spent some time becoming familiar with them from your PR team when you were single, so you knew who to throw fat ass lawsuits to when need be. They all gave each other the eye as if they were implying something.

The video played again on a loop, and your eyes zeroed in on her hands and every touched seared into your memory. “What the fuck? Riah, are you seeing this shit?” You held up your hand to silence her and leaned closer to watch the video again. The commentary of the asses at TMZ was working your nerves. If one wasn’t flat out insinuating that your husband Chris was fucking this woman they were hinting at it. Looking at the video it looked suspicious as hell.

“Don’t jump to conclusions Riah, it’s a gossip show, and they always blow things out of proportion. Take a beat and think clearly,” Zora cautioned trying to reason with your logical side, the side that knew what it was like to be in the public eye. The side that knew shows and mags liked to cause problems where there weren’t any just for ratings and copies sold. You heard her, you did, but you also had eyes and what you saw before you was not platonic. What you saw before you was a plain as day sign that something didn’t meet the eye.

You jumped out your seat, grabbing your phone from the table before you and scrolled through to your husband’s contact and hit the green dial button. Pacing the room, you pressed the phone to your ear and waited for him to pick up. One ring, two rings, three rings. After the fourth ring, you were pissed beyond belief.

“Hey, this is Chris you got the beep you know what to do. I’ll get back to ya when I can.”

The tone sounded, and you squeezed the phone. You desperately wanted to cuss him the fuck out, but you also didn’t want to get loud and ignorant in this room knowing outside there were countless set workers. You loudly groaned. “Christopher Robert Evans, what the actual fuck am I watching right now? What the fuck is this? I can’t believe this shit!” Your words were tight and controlled though you felt anything but. Ending the call, you bent, rested your hands on your knees and took a few breaths.

“Riah, calm down. Looks can be deceiving,” Zora added.

You wanted to say some slick shit. This was not the first time you’d seen some shit with him and his female co-stars. There was Scarlett, but that was before you guys got together. There were even rumors about him and his Defending Jacob co-star. It seemed wherever your husband went the thirsty ass women followed and didn’t know where the fucking line was drawn. He was a fucking married man. Then the thought hit you that they are half the problem; it is your husband’s responsibility to stop the pussy train from trying to make him a passenger. That made you even angrier.

The knock to your door signaled you had to get your ass to the call spot now. Standing you took a few final breaths and composed yourself. You didn’t want to give anyone any reason to gossip even more than necessary. When the doors opened, you walked out and down the hall with your head held high. Taking your spot in front of the decorated set you lowered your robe revealing the sexy designer gown you wore. As the shoot began you tried to remain as focused as possible, but you definitely weren’t on your A-game. Your heart was heavy.

~~~~~~~

By the time you made it home, it was after one in the morning. You were exhausted, and all you wanted was a bottle of wine, a hot bath and the dim-sum from the Japanese place in Beverly Hills. You walked through your dark house, past the modern and traditional mix decorations in the halls and to the kitchen. You didn’t need light to know where you were going. You and Chris had lived here for almost five years now, so you knew every nook and cranny with your eyes closed. Scanning the contents of the fridge you grabbed a bottle of your favorite Moscato and the leftover dim-sum.

While you waited for it to heat in the microwave, you opened the bottle of wine. When the food finished you made your way upstairs deciding against a glass. You knew you’d finish the entire bottle; there was no need to front like you’d only have one glass. You’d never been a “one glass of wine” type of girl. Why have one when the whole bottle was meant to be consumed?

Walking into your master bedroom you sighed, you could still smell him everywhere. He’d been gone for two weeks now, and still, his scent lingered. You walked into the ensuite and turned on the water to the giant tub and walked back into the room. Tossing your bag on one of the couches in the room you didn’t budge when your dead phone fell out. Usually, you’d have rushed to plug it in to get some juice, but you didn’t give a flying fuck about a phone right now.

Once you’d undressed, tied your hair up and made it back into the bathroom, the water was high enough. Turning it off you added some bath oils and three bath bombs before grabbing your favorite soap. Chris always said you smelled good enough to eat after you showered with it. So good that he usually always ended up spending half the night with his head buried between your thighs. When you sank into the hot water you sighed and stretched allowing your muscles to elongate. Reaching for the bottle of wine and took a few gulps before dropping your head back to the cushion.

Your head was still spinning from that stupid TMZ report. Shortly after you called Chris, your phone died. Zora made a move to charge it, but you fanned her off. You didn’t want to talk to him. What more could he say? You’d had this discussion before, not about Ana but other overtly friendly co-stars. He always said the same thing “it’s nothing, I’d never do that to you.” You believed him, believed him enough to marry his ass after four months traveling the world together after he finally took a break between Avengers films.

Everyone said four months wasn’t enough to build a whole lifetime together. Everyone said why rush, take your time, date. You and Chris always repeated the same thing; “When you know, you know.” You loved your husband, you loved him with everything in you, but you hated everything that he came with. In your career, you’d known fame and pressures from the tabloids but with your first line of work you weren’t hounded like crazy. It was only when you made a transition into acting after your wedding did that attention pick up. A huge part was because you were now Mrs. Chris Evans, thee Captain America, the almost lifelong bachelor. Apparently, there were plenty of bets he’d never get married and even more jokes that when he did every woman in the world dedicated a full ten minutes of silence as they wept. It was ridiculous.

You knew the rumors came with the territory, but you hadn’t been prepared for all of this. It was stressful. You groaned out loud and rubbed your forehead.

“He wouldn’t, right?” You doubled down on your guzzling of the wine and kissed your teeth. “Oh, I’m sure she would though.”

Focusing on a spot of color in the bathwater you scowled. “He wouldn’t throw away everything we’d built so easily, would he?” Realizing you were sitting there talking to yourself, you rolled your eyes and dropped your head back in frustration.

When you made it back into the bedroom, a few hours had passed, you decided against turning on the TV not wanting to see any more potentially upsetting stories. So, you sat in the bed and ate the dim-sum staring at Chris’ empty side. You tried not to wonder whose bed he was in tonight; if it was his own hotel bed or hers. By the time you finished the bottle of wine and the food, you’d pushed those thoughts aside and moved on to hopeful thoughts that your husband wasn’t a complete asshole and actually loved you. The last thought before you drifted off to sleep was that you were going to cut his dick off if even a single theory of yours was true.

#rumor has it fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x you #Chris Evans X black reader #chris evans x reader

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years ago

Text

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Two chapters today, because I know last week's ending was a cliffhanger and I do have a heart. :) Next week's update is on Saturday, September 5th, and we'll move to Vic's POV for a little bit.

Chapter 6

Ted spent the weekend holed up in his flat. He didn't come out of his bedroom after he got home on Friday and only interacted with other people long enough to text his dad that he'd been shot down. He told Nicki he had the chills on Saturday and stayed in his room, and he only came out for a couple of microwave meals on Sunday.

When Monday finally rolled around, he picked himself up out of his bed, sat himself down at his desk, and tried to pretend like he didn't feel like dying as he dialed Ron.

"Hey, Ted, how can I help you?"

"Hey, Ron, do you have a moment?"

"Of course, I told you to call for anything."

Ted fiddled with a pen on his desk. "Well, you had mentioned the possibility of moving me to your marketing department if I proved myself, and in six months I've been able to more than double your clients and expanded your client base to a few franchises and several more stand-alone restaurants and bakeries than what you had when I started working for you. I'm hoping I've been able to show you I'm ready for the transfer."

Ron was quiet for several seconds before he finally spoke.

"You want to be transferred now?"

"Yes."

"I see," Ron hummed for a long moment. "Ted, have you had a paid day since you started working for me?"

Ted took the phone from his ear to make sure he'd called Ron and not one of his uncles.

"No, I haven't."

What the bloody hell did that have to do with anything?

"Tell you what, I'm going to need some time to figure all this out, but I don't want to make you keep pushing sales if you want to be in marketing, Ted. So, I want to give you two weeks of paid time off, don't worry about putting it in the calendar, I'll take care of everything. You take these two weeks to take care of you and yours, and I'll see what I can put together for you. Do we have a deal?"

Ted looked at his phone screen again. What was happening?

"Yeah, er yes, yes we do. Thank you."

"My pleasure, now go on a holiday or play Nintendo or whatever and don't turn on your laptop for the next two weeks."

Ted chuckled, "Thanks boss, I'll talk to you in two weeks."

They hung up and Ted checked for a third time that he'd dialed Ron's number. What was going on?

He now had the next two weeks free. That felt very weird. He hadn't had more than three days in a row off since A-Levels. But business school thankfully kicked in and Ted created and then set his email to his out-of-office auto-reply and Ron's contact information for emergencies. Ted texted Ron that his desk phone was forwarded to his cell from Friday, and Ron promised to take care of it by the end of the day. Ted would normally record a message that he was out of office, but as that required him to go into the office, Ted determined that anyone who called could just wait for Ron to call them back.

And then Ted went back to bed.

He was having an insane dream of trying to stop Vic's wedding but no one could see him or hear him when a rough hand shook him awake.

Ted blinked his eyes open to see Harry standing over him.

"Is everything alright?" Ted pushed up, worried that Harry had come because someone else in the family was in trouble.

"You tell me, mate."

Ted shook his head, "No, I mean is everyone alright? Are you here because someone's in trouble?"

"Oh, no, everyone else is fine. But I got a call from your dad asking if I'd check in on you since you'd had a rough couple days at work, and then I got a call from Ron asking if everything was alright with you and that he'd just given you the next two weeks off. So, what part of the story am I missing?"

Ted pulled his covers over his head.

"When have I ever steered you wrong, Ted?" Harry gave a tug on the sheets.

"This damned job, Harry," Ted shot back, and immediately regretted it.

"Does that come with an explanation? Or is this like with Jamie when I have to figure it out for myself?"

Ted bristled at being compared to his teenage god-brother, but that annoying voice in his head pointed out that Harry wasn't wrong in his comparison.

"Fine," Ted pushed up out of his covers and moved to sit at his desk. "Look, I appreciated the job opportunity, really, and everything I'm telling you is in confidence, Marauders family only, alright?"

"You got it, mate," Harry nodded.

Ted looked down at his backpack and shoved it against his desk trying to find any outlet for his emotions.

"Long story short, I fell in love with Victoire."

Harry let out a long whistle.

"And I told her I was in love with her on Friday, and she shot me down, obviously, because she's engaged."

Harry chuckled, and Ted shot him a glare.

"I'm not laughing at you, just at some of the words Bill has used to describe Sean over the past couple weeks."

"Bill sounds like a smart bloke." Ted let out a hollow laugh.

"That's why you asked Ron to be transferred?"

"Would you want to tell Ginny you love her, have her tell you to hit the road, and then have to spend eight to nine hours five days a week with her?" Ted finally looked up at Harry.

Harry nodded, "I definitely get why you want out. I just…"

"What?"

"I wish I could tell you what to do." He shoved his hand in his hair. "I honestly have nothing."

"That's better than what your dad had to say." Ted shook his head.

"What did Dad tell you?" Harry frowned.

"Not me directly, but Uncle Peter met Aunt Bridget when she was dating someone else, and Uncle James told Uncle Peter to not give up on her."

"And Peter told you not to give up on Vic?"

"I didn't tell them her name, but yeah, he and Aunt Bridget told me to just wait for the timing to line up." Ted dropped his head to his chest. "I'm an idiot."

Harry shook his head. "I fancied Gin for over a year before we finally figured ourselves out, Ted."

"Not helping," Ted shook his head. "All of you never had to face the fact that the girl you were in love with agreed to marry someone that wasn't you. I never even had a chance and I deluded myself into thinking I did."

"Out of curiosity, what made you think you had a chance?" Harry leant forward and rested his arms on his knees.

Ted huffed. "She paid attention to me, pathetic right?"

"How, Ted? How did she pay attention to you?"

Ted threw himself back in his desk chair. "I don't know. She played along when I told her she had to guess my last name. She came with me and your kids to that chippy they like so much. She let me teach her business after work a couple of nights a week. She let me comfort her when Sean was being a dick to her. I took her to Mum's favorite chocolatier on Thursday." Ted felt the smile pull on his lips and hated himself for it.

Harry hummed and shook his head. "I hate not knowing what to tell you."

"I don't expect you to know everything anymore, Harry." Ted chuckled.

"Yeah, but this means at some point I'm not going to know what to tell my kids either." Harry laughed.

Ted grinned. "Thanks for coming by, I still feel like crap, but less so now that someone else knows, and it helps that you aren't telling me what an arse I am for going after a woman who was already spoken for."

"You're in good company. Gin was in multiple relationships over the year or so it took me to figure out how to tell her I fancied her. And we know about Peter and Bridgit. I can think of a few others as well." Harry chuckled. "Who knows, mate, maybe someday she figures it out and makes it back to you."

Ted shook his head. "I really appreciate the sentiment, but she's been putting up with Sean's crap for over a year and she's agreed to spend the rest of her life putting up with it. That's a fair indication that she isn't finding her way back to me."

Harry let out a long sigh. "Let's go grab lunch together. I know you've got time, and it would probably help you to have some normalcy right now."

Ted suddenly realized he had no idea what time it actually was, and that he was surprisingly hungry. He looked over at his phone and gawked at the readout.

"Is it really almost noon?"

"This is why your dad wanted me to check on you. I love you Ted, but you tend to try and sleep through your problems." Harry chuckled, "Get dressed, and let's get food."

Lunch with Harry was a good start to his enforced holiday, and while Teddy still felt like he had his heart ripped out of his chest, he at least felt like he could function in this state.

And maybe, if he could go out and have fun with Harry for lunch, maybe he could do it with friends too. So, Ted did a bit of shopping on his way home.

"What's all this?" Kalil walked in from work and looked around at the spread across their kitchen table.

"It's an apology, sort of," Ted ran a hand along the back of his neck. "I've been an awful friend for the last six or so months, and I want to make it up to you."

"With all our favorite foods?" Kalil snagged a crisp bag.

"And a Mario Kart showdown?" Ted offered.

"Oh, you are going down, Lupin!" Kalil laughed. "Let me get out of this button-up and I'm going to kick your trash!"

Ted laughed as he realized how much he had missed being friends with Kalil.

"How are things with Nicki going?" Kalil asked after he'd beat Ted for the umpteenth time.

"We have a lot of fun pub hopping, but it's hard to get to know someone that way." Ted popped a crisp in his mouth.

"So, you ask her to dinner?" Kalil looked at him like he was an idiot. "I mean you had lunch together that one time, right?"

"I know, mate, I just wasn't sure if I was ready yet, you know? But I think maybe, maybe I am?"

"Ted, you're a great bloke, and Nicki is awesome. Just give it a go. The worst that happens is that you find out you two aren't there and you move on."

Ted snorted, "Easy for you to say. You've been with Maira since before we met."

"Some of us get lucky." Kalil shrugged. "And speaking of that, keep this to yourself, but when the lease runs out in August, I'm hoping you'll need a new roommate."

Ted blinked, "You're kidding?"

Kalil grinned, "Not in the slightest. I bought the ring on Saturday."

"I'll start looking at cheaper places closer to work then." Ted grinned back.

"I still have to ask her. Don't sign anything until that ring is on her finger.

"She's going to say yes, you prat," Ted laughed.

"That's what I'm hoping for," Kalil picked up his controller, "but if she turns me down, at least I know I can still kick your trash at this game."

Ted rolled his eyes and started the next round.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

He was being ridiculous. It was stupid to be nervous about asking Nicki to dinner. Kalil was right, they'd gone to lunch that one time and they'd gone pub-hopping almost every weekend since Vic got engaged. He shouldn't be low key freaking out. He should be looking forward to caring enough to try with Nicki because as much as he hated it until Vic shut him down, he hadn't been trying at all.

It was time to stop pretending that Vic was it for him. It was time to put forth the effort where things could lead to happiness as opposed to misery and heartbreak. It was time to move on.

So, on Tuesday, he called during what he hoped would be her lunch hour.

"Ted! How are you?"

"I'm good, I er, I was wondering if you had a free night this week? Thought I could convince you to let me take you to dinner." Ted wished his voice sounded more level and less like he was twelve.

"I think I could handle that," Nicki laughed, "How about tomorrow night?

Ted tried not to sigh in relief. "Sounds good, I'll pick you up at half seven?"

"I can't wait," Nicki sounded like she was smiling.

Ted let some of his nervousness out in a soft chuckle, "Me either."

He spent the rest of the day ignoring what a mess he was inside; he had no idea how to fix himself, but he consoled himself by saying at least he was doing something.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"This is pretty cool, Ted." Nicki looked around the small Korean restaurant he found. Today she wore a neon purple spandex shirt under an orange sweater and her teal pants.

"Well, since you told me I was deprived because I never tried kimchi, I figured I should probably let you lead me through Korean cuisine." Ted tapped her menu. "So, whatever you order is what I'm eating."

Nicki pursed her lips. "How do you handle spicy food?"

"Not as hot as my uncle makes his Indian food, but I like spicy food that doesn't make me feel like I'm going to die when I eat it."

Nicki laughed and set her menu down. "Fair enough, we'll get my favorites then and you can decide if you like Korean food or not."

The server arrived and Nicki ordered in Korean. Ted smiled; he liked the way it sounded. Korean had a cadence to it that pulled him in.

"So, what are we eating tonight?" Ted asked as the server walked away.

"I'm starting you out easy," Nicki teased and kicked his foot under the table. "We're having kimchi fried rice and bulgogi."

Ted kicked her foot back, "Worried I can't handle anything more?"

Nicki nodded, "That's exactly what I'm thinking."

"I'm wounded!" Ted laughed, "I had no idea you thought so little of me!"

"You're pretty thick then," Nicki smiled, "I only turn down every opportunity to be around you."

"Typical idiot, I am," Ted grinned back at her.

It fell quiet and Ted felt awkward in the silence. He felt like he should have something more to say, but nothing came to mind, so he reached for his water instead and tried to ignore how he'd never felt awkward in the silences he'd had with Vic.

Somehow Nicki managed to move them back into small talk until their food arrived, and Ted found out how much he liked Korean food.

"Really, Nicki, this is amazing." Ted took another bite of the kimchi fried rice.

"See, I told you that you had been deprived."

"We are going to have to come back, I need you to show me what else I'm missing out on."

"So, does that mean I'll get another date?" Nicki laughed.

Ted ignored the part of him that was put out that Nicki wanted a second date with him when Vic hadn't wanted anything to do with him.

"I mean if you can put up with me," he shrugged.

Nicki shook her head as she chuckled. "You're not half bad, Ted, I would probably say yes to a second date."

"Then I'll consider myself lucky," he raised his glass to her.

"There's a local band I like that'll be playing a pub on Friday." Nicki smiled at him. "Feel up to some new music?"

Ted smiled back at her, it felt good to feel wanted.

"I am always up for new music. When should I pick you up?"

"Be at mine at 7?"

"You can count on it." The server returned with Ted's card and Ted thanked him before sliding his wallet back into his pocket.

But Ted didn't count on how much his brain would spend the next two days wishing it was Vic he was seeing again instead of Nicki. Which made him feel like a right prat. Nicki was fantastic. She was spunk and energy. She was composed and self-sure. And she was interested in him. He should be excited, he should be thinking about how great she was, he should be forgetting Vic and moving on. All his self-berating didn't do anything to stop himself from thinking about Vic though. Ted found his brain constantly drifted back to Vic.

Thankfully, Thursday came with a small distraction, in the form of a phone call from a number Ted didn't recognize.

"Hello, is this Edward Lupin?"

"Yes," Ted frowned. "How can I help you?"

"This is Kevin Wilks, I'm the marketing manager at Live Graphics, Nicki Choi gave us your resume."

"Oh, hello, yes, thank you for getting back to me so quickly."

"Yes, well, I must admit that your work with Bread & Butter is impressive, but we're hiring for a higher-level position and I need someone with more marketing-specific experience. However, we do have an opening in sales, and if you'd like I can pass your resume over to them? I think you'd be exactly what they are looking for."

Ted held back his dejected sigh, "Thanks, Kevin, but I think I'll pass. I'm hoping to transition into marketing since that is my degree. I appreciate you reaching out to me though."

"I figured that would be your response, but I wanted to be sure. Nicki is a friend and I didn't want to let her down."

"Thank you, I'll be sure she knows you did your best."

Ted looked at his phone after the call had disconnected. Why did he somehow feel that this was going to push him to keep working with Vic? And why did a part of him want it to?

Finally, Friday night rolled around and Ted was grateful for the distraction. Pub hopping with Nicki was easy. It was something he could do without worrying about anything being official, without worrying about how his mind kept coming back to Vic.

"They're good, right?" Nicki stole one of his last chips as they listened to the band play, her pink shirt sparkled with glitter and Ted was positive that he was going to be finding glitter in his car for the next year.

Ted grinned at her, "They aren't my usual fare, but I admit they're growing on me."

Nicki bumped his shoulder and scooted closer. Ted let his arm fall around her shoulders. This was nice and he felt like he should be enjoying this more. He wanted it to feel like it did when he sat across the table from Vic at the chocolate shop. He wanted it to feel easy and encompassing.

Ted looked down at Nicki as the musicians took a ten-minute break and found her smiling up at him.

"Hey," her voice was quiet and Ted realized that if he wanted to, she was close enough for him to kiss her.

"Hey," Ted tried not to think about all the turmoil inside his head at that moment.

Instead, he kissed her.

Nicki tangled her fingers in his hair and Ted tried to keep his brain from comparing how different this kiss felt compared to the kiss he'd stolen from Vic. He tried to enjoy it. He tried to let it be the start of something new.

"Ted," Nicki pulled back just a bit, "are you not into this?"

Ted wanted to die.

"I'm an idiot." He sighed.

"Are you like, trying to figure yourself out?" Nicki put a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"No," Ted chuckled, "No, I'm just still not over her. I'm sorry, Nicki, this has been incredibly unfair to you."

Nicki tugged at his hand. "Let's go sit in your car. Maybe I can help you talk through this?"

Ted shook his head, "First of all, we're here to see your band play, and second, are you honestly telling me you want to hear me gripe about another girl?"

Nicki rolled her eyes. "Maira told me that you were struggling with a girl when she first called me. I knew you were hung up before I knew what you looked like."

"Wow, you certainly know how to boost a man's ego." Ted gripped his jeans.

"Come on," Nicki grabbed his hand, "I know the manager, she'll get us back in if we decide to keep going tonight."

Ted reluctantly followed her out to his car, but he had to admit, he was a lot less freaked out now that he wasn't surrounded by people.

"Alright, Ted, let's start with her name." Nicki kicked off her red boots and sat cross-legged in the passenger seat, her black leggings were partially covered by her long green socks.

Teddy leant his head back into the headrest.

"You're sure about this?"

"Come on, Hamlet, let's work through this."

Ted laughed, Nicki even used Hamlet jokes like Aunt Marlene and Aunt Lily. Why didn't he feel the way he did with Vic when he was with Nicki? She should have him wrapped around her finger. But no matter how hard Ted tried, he couldn't seem to connect with her the way he had with Vic.

"Alright, her name is Victoire."

"And…" Nicki threw her glove at his face.

Ted sighed and handed her glove back to her.

"And I work with her. She and I are the only ones in our office. I went and fell in love with her, and she accepted her boyfriend's proposal just before Christmas."

"Damn," Nicki turned up the heater.

"Yeah, and I was the dick that kissed her after I told her I had fallen in love with her." He looked over at Nicki. "This is where I'm expecting you to tell me what sort of sick lunatic I am and demand I take you home."

Nicki punched his arm, "Seriously, Hamlet, chill out. Should you have kissed an engaged woman, probably not, but did she kiss you back?"

Ted rubbed his arm, "I, er, I," then he smiled, "Yeah, yeah, she did kiss me back."

"Well, then obviously there's more going on. Any woman who doesn't immediately pull back and smack a man that kisses her who isn't the man she's currently engaged to, well, I would say that woman has a lot to figure out."

"I, er, I guess you have a point…" Ted trailed off as Nicki's words sunk in.

"Tell you what," Nicki pulled out two sticks of gum and handed him one. "Why don't you start at the beginning and tell me the whole thing. I'll be your relationship therapist for the night."

Ted took the gum but kept his eyes on Nicki. "Why are you so chill about this? I've been beating myself up since I met you because I thought I was using you to try and get over Vic. Don't you feel like I'm wasting your time?"

Nicki slid her gum wrapper in her clutch. "Ted, you're a good guy, but when we kissed, I just didn't feel anything. I would have called this over at the end of the night even if you weren't hung up on 'office girl' so let's just transition. I'd like to still be your friend if you can handle that."

Ted chuckled and wondered why he didn't feel put out that Nicki felt nothing when she kissed him.

"You're decent people, Nicki. Thank you."

Nicki shrugged, "Plus, I'm a sucker for a good story, so don't leave anything out. I want every sordid detail, Ted. That's my price for our friendship."

Ted was surprised at the relief he felt at knowing Nicki wasn't interested in dating him. And he was surprised at how tempting it was to unload everything to her. He hadn't done that with anyone else, he'd always left something out when he'd explained this before.

"This has to stay between us, Kalil doesn't know the half of this, and I'd like to keep being friends with him."

"Ooo, deep dark secrets, even better!" Nicki snapped her gum. "You, my friend, have a deal."

Ted laughed and leant his head back into the headrest. Then he started telling Nicki about the first time he saw Vic.

#Endeavor #tedoire #tedoire fanfiction #tedoire au #tedoire muggle au #teddy x vic #ted x vic #teddy lupin x victoire weasley #teddy lupin #victoire weasley #muggle au #next gen au #next generation #next generation muggle au #next gen fanfic #romance #fluff #coworkers romance #harry potter fanfiction

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bennyboyjones · 5 years ago

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The Getaway (Ben Hardy Fanfic) Chapter Three

A/N: Hi! So, here is chapter 3 to my Ben Hardy AU Fanfic! There are currently several chapters written, which you can find on Wattpad, but I’ve decided to also upload it here as well. It might be a bit behind, but you’ll still get all the chaps eventually.

What it is: basically, a girl from a small town who is bored of her life decides to take a trip to Nice where she runs into ben, who is also running away from some shit and some romance ensues.

Word count: 3.9k

in this chapter: FLIRTING AND MAYBE A DATE?

WATTPAD LINK IF YOU WANT TO READ AHEAD

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