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nat-20s · 3 years

Note

this is a Wild™ prompt so no pressure to actually do it, but i’ve had the scenario of “somehow s5 martin ends up in s1-s2, has to figure out how to deal with that” and if u want a narrower thing, maybe how he reacts to seeing someone again/for the first time? (Sasha, Juergen Leitner, Prentiss, etc)

Please have fun with Whatever this is:

“Don’t go wandering off in the middle of the apocalypse” seems like a pretty simple rule to follow. “Especially don’t go through any weird doors, Christ, Martin, how can that possibly be a good idea on any level, do you remember nothing from the last five years of your existence?” also seems like a generally easy thing to keep in mind. And yet, Martin is guilty of the same sin that appears to be intrinsic of all of those who find themselves under the influence of the eye, his need to know something overriding his common sense. In his defense, the door was only like 2 meters away and he wasn’t planning on going through it or even touching it at all. He just wanted to look, because it appeared to be made of a liquid version of frosted glass, and it was translucent enough that he could sort of make out the other side of it. As he got closer, he confirmed that the other side of the door a: definitely didn’t match the rest of their own little hell-scape, and b: seemed familiar in a way he couldn’t quite make sense of.

Of course, in the dream logic of their reality, you don’t have to place your hand on the door knob in order for you to enter some place new. All it takes is getting within a foot of the door, squinting to futilely try and bring the scene across from him into better focus, and a blink and suddenly he is not where he’s supposed to be. Instead, he is staring down the hallway of his former apartment complex, watching as a familiar woman attired in a red dress and countless words is steadily knocking at his door. There’s a weight in his hands that wasn’t there before, and he looks down to find a fire extinguisher in prime position to be fired. Huh. How serendipitous.

Martin’s surprised to find that he doesn’t feel afraid, not in this moment. It appears that for all the two weeks spent hiding from her still frequent more often than not in his nightmares, for all that the sight of canned peaches still makes him nauseous, in his (probably) waking hours, she is far less intimidating than the myriad of horrors he has faced since. Or, perhaps, it’s simply that he is actually equipped to face her, and that takes away some of the teeth of his fear. Any semblance of preparation, of a plan, has given him comfort when he had little else, and that continues on now. Admittedly, though, while he does have preparation for this encounter, his plan is little more than “get Prentiss off of my fucking lawn and then see where we go from there” before he’s striding towards her.

He’s able to get close to her, about as close as he’s willing to get, before she takes any notice of him. Once he’s about five feet away, she turns her head, and briefly pauses that incessant, infuriating knocking. She gets as far as saying, “Oh, aren’t you inter-” before he sends a spray of foam directly to her face. It’s far from enough to kill her, but it’s enough to kill off some of the worms, so there’s no way that it doesn’t at least sting quite a bit. The CO2 makes her stutter and take several steps back, swatting at the foam at an attempt to get it off.

He considers pulling the handle once again, but he’s really more concerned with getting her to leave than hurting her further, and he doesn’t to run out of ammo this early should she recover and decide to go on the attack. However, he likes to think he’s not too much of a fool, so he keeps the nozzle trained on her as she becomes less frantic.

Finally she stills her swatting, breathing heavily and glaring at him, as much as she can make any sort of facial expression with what’s left of her face. “That was rather rude of you, little one. And we are trying to offer you an escape from being so tragically singular.”

Martin raises the nozzle slightly higher, just enough to bring focus to the motion as he replies, “Yeah, well, it was rude of you to stalk my apartment for two weeks and try to kill me and my coworkers, so forgive me if I don’t feel all that grateful for your oh so generous offer.”

“Hmm. So you are his future. That’s a shame. We are made so loneliness is impossible, it would not wrap itself so throughly into your form. Our love could still be given to you, in this time.”

“I have no interest in your hollow version of love. He has no interest in it. Now, leave.”

Prentiss give an airy wave of her hand, and the worms that had been trying to find any crack in the sealed door come crawling back to their home. “Fine, fine. This was just a bit of fun, anyway. I’ll be seeing him soon enough anyway.”

Martin makes a hum of acknowledgement, though he response makes little difference to her taking her leave. There’s a few silver-grey disgusting stragglers that be promptly and throughly kills with a combination of the fire extinguisher and some well placed stomps. It’s only after he finishes this that the hesitation hits him, the trepidation curling low in his stomach until it solidifies into something akin to fear. He’ll take a worm monster over facing himself any time of any day.

What would he even say to himself? Good luck, the next years of your life are completely fucked? Hey, congratulations, you actually made it to your 30s, so that’s a bit of surprise, but you’re almost certainly not going to get to 35? Don’t talk to a man named Peter Lukas, or maybe just avoid any Lukases in general? Maybe he should lie, tell him things are going to turn out okay when they’re definitely not?

Wait, okay, maybe he has something with the Peter tip. If there’s an opportunity to give this version of him some advice that could prevent future grief, he might as well go for it. It’s like, how badly could he actually mess up the time line with his interference? The world could end again? Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Upon the realization that basically no matter what he does right now there’s basically no where to go up but up, he makes an executive decision to go in there and confront himself head on. Hell, maybe that’s the Thing that’s needed to get him back to Jon.

As he goes to turn the door handle he also, briefly, thinks that he should bring up that he’s madly in love with someone who feels the same. It’s not immediately relevant for trying to prevent some of the mistakes he’s made, but Martin remembers being 28, utterly convinced both that love was real and something that was completely unattainable for something like him. Being wrong on the second part of that conviction is one of the few true comforting things he can provide.

The door is, of course, locked, so he goes with plan B. Turns out fire extinguishers are rather handy for smashing things, and he brings it down several times in rapid succession until the knob breaks. There’s one step down, but he had forgotten about the furniture barricade that had been put in place. He can get the door open about 7 centimeters before it refuses to budge, and he begins to wonder if all of this is an exercise in futility. At least his voice won’t be muffled when he calls out, “Martin? You in there?”

There’s nothing but silence, and he sighs and leans his head against the apartment door. “Seriously, Martin, could you respond? And maybe move some of this furniture? If you’re dead that means things are way more messed up than I expected.”

After a beat, a strained voice calls out, “Oh, so a bad impersonation of me is part of your dumb monster powers now? Piss off!”

After a groan and an eyeroll, Martin calls back “I’m not-!” before cutting himself off. He meant to say “I’m not a monster, I’m you” but both of those things are only about 60-70% true. Instead he goes with, “I’m not an impersonation. If I was something pretending to be someone else to get inside, wouldn’t I pick one of your coworkers coming to get you? Like Tim or Jon or Sa- you know, um, one of them?”

Silence.

“You have a peephole, right? You could look through it, confirm that I’m not worm-infested?”

He doesn’t hear a response with words, but he does hear the sounds of motion coming from inside. After a few minutes, the furniture is pushed aside, and the door is opened for him. Jesus, the guy on the other side of the door looks like shit. He probably doesn’t look much better, apocalypse grime covering every inch of him, but still. The man in front of him has deep bags under his eyes and a gauntness to his face that will take a while to ease. Worst of all, he looks painfully young and painfully afraid, and while Martin can recognize himself on a logical level, there’s a forced disconnect that makes him feel like he’s looking at a stranger. The knife that’s being held between them probably doesn’t help matters.

His former self’s voice shakes with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion. “You got the hair color wrong. And the age.”

“That’s because I’m 32. Also, still not an impersonation.”

“My hair goes white in 5 years?”

“Not in the natural way. You know those hokey stories where people are so scared their hair turns white? That’s...sort of what happened. And it’s not going to happen to you, if I can help it.”

That’s the wrong thing to say, apparently, as the younger Martin’s face twists up. It’s a lot, Martin thinks it’s a lot and he’s far more experienced in the reality of the esoteric, but sometimes things being a lot is unavoidable, and he’s pretty sure time travel is one of those cases. He shrugs in response to the younger’s confusion, and says, “Can I come in? I think I’m here to dole out some advice, and I’d honestly prefer to do while not standing in worm corpses.”

He’s studied for a few brief moments, before he’s told, “You broke my doorknob.”

“You’re never gonna live here again, and it’s not like you were getting the security deposit back anyway. Does it matter?”

The younger one’s face collapses, despondent when he replies, “But. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Martin’s been experiencing a nauseating mixture of anger, pity, and compassion while seeing his past self, but that’s enough to kick in his care-taking instincts, and he really just wants to wrap the guy in a blanket. That’s not going to help either of them, but what he says next might. With a frankly ridiculous wave of fondness for that uncomfortable cot (or, more accurately, for the memory of a certain someone offering said cot), “You will. After you go back to the institute, you, um, you won’t have to stay here again.”

Martin, junior edition, only looks more lost, but he does step aside to let Martin inside the apartment even if he doesn’t lose his death grip on the knife. Martin pulls the door behind him, and as he does so, it transforms into the door that got him in this mess, so looks like he made the right choice. It doesn’t immediately take him (hopefully) back to his own time, but Martin’s gut is telling him that he won’t be spending much longer here. “Okay, so, you have a notebook around here, right? Because I’m about to dump quite a bit of information on you all at once, and I happen to know that our memory for things of this sort is not fantastic.”

The younger one glances over to the table where a notebook and pen are laying and while he moves towards it, he’s clearly hesitant to occupy both his hands with writing. The precaution makes sense, but Martin’s getting tired of it nonetheless due to a combination of running out of time and generally being tired of people seeing him as a threat. With a sigh, he tries his best to evenly say, “The next few years are going to be, um, messed up, to say the least, but hopefully if you have more information than I did, they’ll be less messed up.”

Younger Martin finally concedes, putting the knife down to pick up the pen, and flips the notebook open. Primed to start writing, he gives slight nod of his head to tell Martin to keep talking. Martin takes a breath, lets it out, and spills everything he can think of. “Okay, most immediately, CO2 kills Prentiss’s worms, and enough of it will kill her. A fire suppressant system will do the trick, but make sure there’s a way to actually trigger it inside of the archives. Makes sure the weird spooky table doesn’t get destroyed, it seems like it should be destroyed, this instinct is wrong. Generally speaking, you should get a buddy system set up, as it’s usually when people go off on their own that particularly bad things start to happen, whether it’s on an investigation or going to America. Speaking of, don’t let Jon go to America. Don’t let Tim go to stop the Unknowing. The Unknowing won’t work anyway, but you’ll probably still want to have the circus blown up, just make sure everyone is doing it from a distance. Don’t let yourself work for Peter Lukas, actually don’t interact with Peter Lukas, except maybe to, I don’t know, hit him with a shovel. And most importantly, kill Elias Bouchard as soon as possible-”

“-What?!-”

“-and in particular make sure you destroy the eyes, that’s vital to this whole thing. Turns out he’s actually a 200 year old scumbag named Jonah Magnus, you know, the founder of the institute, and by getting rid of him, you’ll save yourself a quite literal world of pain.”

“I don’t, what, I don’t think I could kill somebody-”

Martin felt a sharp tug towards the door, and he knew his time here was up. “Oh, wow, I really have changed, huh. Anyway, uh, final notes: you’re not going to end up alone and unloved and forgotten before you’re even fully gone, so feel free to lay that fear that occupies a disconcertingly large amount of your mental space to rest. Good luck, and try not to die!”

Before he can hear his other self’s response, he’s back in the wastelands he currently calls a twisted version of home, and Jon’s arms are wrapped around his neck in a fierce hug. As far as he can tell, nothing’s changed from his little literal trip down memory lane. There’s a few explanations for it, but since Martin’s not going to go out of his way trying to prove any of them, he choses to believe in the one that’s the most hopeful; that somewhere, out there, with some well timed words, there’s a universe that has turned out kinder than their own.

#Anonymous #replies #tma #martin blackwood #anon #nats fic

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obx-snippets · 4 years

Text

Honey & Glass ❀ Kiara Carrera

Summary: After a night of caring for baby sea turtles, y/n’s only light in her life is Kiara Carrera. But being a Thornton is a heavy crown to bear along with all the expectations.

Warning: cursing, (I think that’s it, let me know)

word count: 4.5k

Pairing: Kiara Carrera x female!reader

Masterlist

a/n: this is my first Kie one shot so hopfully you enjoy! This fic is based off the song Little Miss Perfect. Stayed up till like 4 am writing this so I’m fried now. But leave feedback of your thoughts.

*^credits to owner^* ❀❀❀ The verdant hills of the country club golf course weren't as occupied this Sunday morning like it was on other days. The Camerons were scattered about, Rafe and Sarah arguing over a hole in one while Wheezie continually hit her ball until she made it into a nearby lake. Despite the distraction going on around them, the Thornton siblings were locked into their game. Standing atop a hill, Y/n was still as she lined up her wedged golf club with the small golf ball lying on the patch of grass. Topper stood just behind his sister, arms crossed over his blue polo clad chest. A smirk was playing on his lips as he watched his sister's eyes straining on the task at hand. She took the game all too seriously, and it was enjoyable to pester her whenever he had the chance.

Y/n was always known to be the perfect child out of the two. Her ponytails were always slicked back without so much as a stray hair escaping. Straight A's, straight forward, straight path, she doesn't cut corners. She made a point be on time and was even head of the student council at the Kook Academy. Unlike her sensitive turd of a brother who washes himself with girls affection and alcohol whenever he saw Sarah under John B's arm, she's never blacked out at a party. Not once. But even if she attended a party, it wouldn't be her taste considering she only ever jams to Paul McCartney.

Just when y/n was about to make the shot, Scarlet and Sarah wandered by, the blonde's friend passing her a disdainful look. That was the other thing about Y/n Thornton. She wasn't a wealthy Kook by birth. She was adopted when she was only two years old. And though they spoiled her rotten, she can't help but question what she did to get as far as she's gotten.

The scornful look didn't go unnoticed by Topper, and he spared her a glare. Scarlet mirrored his expression before she followed Sarah toward the lake to help Wheezie retrieve her golf ball.

Y/n knew they only hated her because she wasn't a true Kook, and she was blessed with a privileged family. She knew she had done nothing wrong but being little miss perfect wasn't always luxurious. Not when she was hiding a secret that would surely dishonor the family name laid upon her.

Unwinding the tension that built up in her shoulder, Y/n hit the golf ball gently and let it roll into the hole. She squealed slightly and hopped on her white tennis shoes. Topper slowly clapped from behind her, jutting his bottom lips to emphasize he was impressed. The bright smile on her face was worth seeing any day in Topper's opinion.

"Eat grass bitch," Y/n jeered in a drolled tone, bumping Topper's shoulder with her own.

Topper scoffed at her, raising his hands as he walked to where she was standing just a few seconds ago, rolling his shoulder back to take his shot. "Watch how the real pro does it." he chucked with a smug grin, bringing his sister to roll her eyes.

Y/n stood next to Topper, resting her weight on the golf club while the other rested on her knee. "Has anyone ever told you that you have shitty form?" she whispered tauntingly in her brother's ear.

Topper swung back, making his sister take a cautious step away before hitting the ball across the field. "I do not!" he said, pointing his gloved hand toward the ball he made into the hole." If anyone has shitty form, it's you!" he jested, hovering his club mockingly in her face before she smacked it away.

"Whatever, Top, at least my ball never ended up in the lake." y/n sneered playfully over her shoulder as she trotted toward her ball with a skip in her step.

Topper lifted his hand and dropped his arms to his side, rolling his eyes as he followed her. "That was one time!"

The sibling played a few more rounds until Topper called it quits after y/n beat him the rest of the day, making two holes in ones. She had school the next morning anyway, and with the sky colored a deep purple, they thought it was time to turn in for the night.

With her hands swaying by her side, a yawn left y/n lips before she felt Topper bump her shoulder with his own. "So there's rumors going around at school that you've gotta crush on somebody." Topper's tone was hopeful, and the way he lifted his eyebrows suggestively brought her to scoff.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever." she shrugged, suddenly finding the velcro of her white loves quite fascinating.

"Come on! I'm your brother, you can tell me!"

Y/n laughed, letting her ponytail graze her cheek when she whipped her head up toward where Topper walked beside her. "Um, yeah, exactly, you're my brother, I don't really feel like you're the one I should go to for talking about my love life. It's kinda embarrassing."

Topper let his eyes linger on his sister for a moment before looking ahead of him where Rafe and Sarah drove by in their golf cart. The Cameron sibling tossed them a wave in greeting while the Thornton siblings nodded in response. Topper grin began to grow, and he spun on the sole of his foot to walk backward in front of his sister.

"Oh, I know, I know who it is," he said confidently.

Y/n snorted, amused to hear what Topper would pull out of his sleeve. No one would ever know who she had eyes for. She even tried to deny it herself—several times. "Do you now?" she nodded along with his game.

"Yup."

"Shoot then, wise guy."

"It's Rafe, isn't it?"

Y/n nearly choked on her saliva, and she passed her brother a bewildered look. "What- No! Absolutely not." she gasped, shoving him in the chest but to no avail as he stayed standing and laughed heartily at his sister's attempt to knock him down.

"What's wrong with Rafe?" he chuckled teasingly, prodding her on the rib, and opted to walk by her side again.

Once they arrived at his car, she kept her hand on the passenger side handle and glared at her brother through the windows as he stood on the other side. "Should I start alphabetically or chronologically?" she smiled caustically, and Topper mirrored her expression once he unlocked the car, and the two climbed inside.

She thought the discussion had dropped once they shut the doors, and the engine roared to life. But Topper pestered on with his investigation.

"Is it Kelce?"

"Nope." she sighed deeply, resting her head back, irritated he wouldn't drop it. She was saddened that he would never guess the name even if he listed off all the boys on the island.

He tapped his finger anxiously on the steering wheel. "Jeremy from your AP classes?"

"No, Topper."

"Whatever," he huffed in defeat, "I'll find out eventually! Don't you worry."

No, you won't, she thought, letting her eyes draw to the trees in passing. If Topper weren't so concentrated on the dark road ahead, he would have seen the frown that made permanent residence on his sister's face the rest of the ride home. He would have even caught a glimpse of the sole tear that rolled down her cheeks as she thought of the one person she could never have and the one person no one could know she wanted.

___

Adjusting her straightened hair in the mirror that was magnetized in the back of her locker, y/n's mind was reeling with all the duties she had ahead of her. She had a council meeting next period, and she hasn't even gotten her notes in order. Sarah Cameron was leaning against her locker that resided next to y/n, worry pooling in her eyes as she watched her run her hands through her hair for the hundredth time since they've been standing there.

"If you keep stressing your hair like that, it's gonna fall out." Sarah pointed out, leaning her head against the cold metal, and tucked a blonde strand behind her ear.

Y/n shook her head, rubbing her temple with the tip of her fingers. "Sarah, I've been up all. night." she emphases, slamming her locker shut with more force than she intended and turned to her friend, the creases on her forehead prominent. "All night, trying to accommodate everything, and even then, I doubt Trevor will be satisfied. Such a pain my ass, I swear.."

"Stop beating yourself over it, my god. Trever will just have to grow a pair and get over it. You're busy as it is, and he can't expect you to drown yourself in all this crap."

Taking a deep inhale of breath, y/n wrung her hands to rid of the nerves. "Okay, how do I look? Head of the student council worthy?" she padded down the uniform skirt that barely reached past her fings while Sarah tugged on the lapels of her navy blue blazer, her eyes scanning her golden brooch that was pinned to the side.

"You're a babe y/n. Of course, you look good! Also, I was thinking after school we could stop by Scarlet's..."

A pretty girl walks by my locker

my heart gives a flutter

but I don't dare utter a word

cause that would be absurd behavior

for little miss perfect.

Sarah's words are slowly drowned out once y/n's eyes catch sight of Kiara Carrera gracefully walking by. Everything slows, and she wasn't sure if it was time slowing down in her favor or if it was her mind, giving her the chance to catch a glimpse of the one true thing that kept y/n going. The one person who she thought about before shutting her eyes and the first thing she smiled about once she woke up.

The way her uniform hugged around her curves—the way her tie was loosened as it draped under the collar of her blouse. Kiara's long brown curls looked especially curlier that day as they bounced past her shoulder with every step. The half updo bun she wore accentuated her oval face perfectly, and it gave more space for y/n to admire her features.

Y/n and Kira have known each other since they both volunteered to watch over a turtle nest back in July. They were both surprised to see each other but nevertheless fell into a smooth rhythm of comfortable conversation. The whole night was spent naming all the baby sea turtles after star constellations that they thought fit their personality. They snuggled close for the majority of the night after Kiara ran to Haywards with a spare key to grab a few snacks to help them survive the night. The cool night air was becoming overwhelming, so they decided to keep up the chattering to distract themselves.

Y/n took this as two girls blossoming a newfound friendship, but it was when Kiara began to speak that really sparked her interest. But the funny thing was, it wasn't something specific. It was everything she was saying. Kiara spoke of her passion for music, her friends, the environment, her dreams, and hopes. She spoke so gracefully that it drew y/n in more and more like a siren thirsty for water. Before she fell in love with Kiara, she fell in love with her words. Her free spirit. Her aura of happiness that drew people in for more. More of the words that trickled from her plump lips light honey. Something so sweet that y/n craved more than anything.

While she was fawning over the girl as she spoke animatedly about her passion for surfing, a crack was heard from the turtle nest. Racing to look over the small hole with flashlights, radiant smiles colored both girls' features, seeing the sand cave in as little baby sea turtles began crawling from their shells.

For a brief moment, Kira gazed upward to see Y/n eyes glowing with the light and smiled. She loved how carefree she seemed away from the strict counsel of her stepmother. The Thornton name was a heavy crown to bear, and she admired y/n for carrying it so effortlessly. And at this moment, Kiara couldn't help but blush when strands of y/n's hair began to fall near her cheek, and she wanted so badly to brush them away. But she was knocked from her thoughts once she noticed the girl hustling around to clear the area for the turtles to move.

The rest of the night was spent encouraging the turtles as they made their way toward the water and protecting them from possible predators.

"Fuck off, crab!" Kiara shouted, picking up a branch from the sand and poking at a hard exterior near one of the turtles.

"Kie that a rock! Focus!' y/n whispered harshly, afraid she would scare the baby turtles as they paddled down the sand path they created for them that led to the water.

"Shit, you're right-- oh my god its Aries!" Kiara exclaimed, flashing her light down at a turtle that was speeding ahead of the rest.

Y/n quirked a brow, 'How could you possibly know? That could be Sagittarius for all we know."

Kie scoured her flashlight toward her, nearly blinding y/n from the abrupt light assault. "What? No way! That is so Aries, I mean, look at how he's showin off and struttin and being a baddie!" Kie then shined her light toward the hole where the last baby turtle flipped out from his nest and slowly moved toward the water. "That is Sagittarius. The lazy bitch."

"Hey, don't call the turtle bitches-- oh my god, Kiara, a crab!"

"Where!?"

After seeing the sea turtles to safety, Kira and y/n walked a mile to the Wreck, babbling loudly, not caring if the residents shut them up. They were just so happy to be in each other's company. The night ended with the girls eating a couple of plates stacked with truffle fries and a carton of ice cream while diving into more in-depth topics. They cried, laughed, and then cried some more before falling asleep on each other's shoulder in a booth. Mr. Carerra came in the next morning and sent them back to Kiara's house where they all but threw themselves on her bed in the comfort of her thick, warm blankets.

After that, the two would hang out every chance they got, even if there was an unspoken spark hovering between them like a magnet. It brought them closer, but as soon as they dared to think of each other as more than friends, they repelled.

Though they spoke of everything, they never mentioned how they fell asleep with their hands intertwined under the blankets.

Y/n breathed hitched once those almond eyes met hers, and the smile she passed her way was at par with the brightness of the sun. It warmed every part of her being, making her heart melt in an instant. Kiara's smile could light up a room; everyone knows that. But what they can't see is that she lights y/n up inside completely that every difficulty of loving her disappears. Every crevice of doubt. Every corner of insecurity. Ever crack of self-loathing. Kiara Carrera filled those spaces so selflessly, and all it took was a smile.

"Crush" was such an infantile word. But if that's what Topper wanted to call it, then yes, she had a crush on Kiara Carrera.

No, I can't risk falling off my throne,

Love is something you don't even know.

Two hands swaying in front of her face made her vision dizzy once she came back to reality and looked to Sarah, who looked relieved to finally grasp her attention.

"Dude bell rang. You ready?" she asked.

Y/n faked a smile before lifting her head a bit higher once Kira passed her and disappeared from sight. "Um yeah--yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

Sarah looped her arm with hers, and the two girls moved down the hall. Sarah felt the stiffness in her friend's arm and tilted her head with furrowed brows. "You okay?" she inquired softly with a smile.

"Just lost in thought is all," y/n, sighed, sucking on her bottom lips as she cast her eyes to her shoes.

"Must be unfamiliar territory then." Sarah laughed, giving her a playful shove, bringing y/n to bashfully shake her head at the compliment. "Now chin up, let's show Trevor, who's boss."

Once again, she let her thoughts of Kiara settle in a little corner of her brain, not to be touched until necessary, and went about her day.

Straight hair, straight A's, straight forward

Straight girl

Little miss perfect

that's me

One night my friend's stayed over

We laughed and drink and ordered

Something about her drew me in

What? It's totally platonic

"That is such a lie, Sarah, and you know it!" Y/n muffled around a bite of potato chips. She had called out her blonde friend, who rests her back against her bed's headboard while in a heated game of Kiss, Marry, Kill.

"What is so wrong about the order? It seems fine!" Sarah hiccuped after taking a swig of the large bottle of wine Kiara brought from home. She was currently sitting next to y/n; they're shoulders pressing together as they evened their weight on each other.

"Seriously. Marry Pope, kiss John B, and kill JJ? Where's the favor in that!" Kiara questioned with a shake of her head.

"Hey, Pope is superior." Y/n reminded her as she pointed toward Kiara with the loose finger that wasn't gripping the neck of the wine bottle. She tossed her head back and let the sweet, pungent taste burn her throat.

"Well, of course, he is, that answer is fine but c'mon! Kiss JJ and Kill John B! Simple." Kiara said, letting her thumb wipe off a drip of wine that rested on y/n chin. Too dazzled with a fascination with the spinning fan above her, Sarah didn't notice the lingering glances happening between Kie and Y/n.

Their eyes stayed glued, and Kiara smirked as a blush crept up y/n cheek. She brought her thumb to her lips and tasted the wine that didn't make it into y/n mouth before turning back to Sarah.

"JB is my boyfriend, Kie!" Sarah whined, lightly kicking her legs in a pout with her eyes squeezed shut, the onset of a headache beginning to rack her brain.

"You and John B are a literal walking hallmark movie!" Y/n told her with irritation lacing her tone. "I think he'll understand that you picked JJ over him in a game!"

"But...but -but I - I love jombee," Sarah slurred moments before a silent sob broke her lungs.

Kiara and Y/n both groaned in unison, disregarding how emotional Sarah got after too much drinking. "Pass me the damn bottle," Kira demanded with a roll of her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," y/n replied.

That night was so exciting

Her smirks were so enticing

Hours speed by like seconds

Then, what happens is iconic

She takes a sip, I bite my lip

she tells a joke, I nearly choke

she braids my hair, I sit there

blacking out for the first time

With her straight hair now pulled back into a loose french braid made by the one and only Kiara, the two decided upon a game of never have I ever. After consoling Sarah for god knows what, the blonde fell asleep, leaving Kiara and y/n to sit at the end of the bed.

"Never have I ever called a turtle a bitch." Y/n narrowed her eyes, sitting on the balls of her feet, waiting for Kiara to drink from the wine bottle.

Kiara threw her head back, and a groan erupted from her chest while her loose, curly hair brushed past her shoulder. "Would you let that go? You know I love those turtles!" Kiara said, sipping the wine from the space in front of her as she sits criss-cross.

Her eyes flickered around the bottle, meeting y/n eyes for a moment, making her bite her lip and look down at her fiddling hands that rested in her lap.

"I don't think Sagittarius appreciated being insulted. He was just taking his time." y/n said, finally looking back up to see Kie handing her the bottle.

"At least I didn't forget their names! What kind of mother are you?" Kie chuckled, her fingers lining the edge of her oversized yellow t-shirt that covered her gray shorts.

Y/n's lips parted, and shrugged her shoulders aggressively. "We named them when they haven't even hatched yet! Can you blame me for getting confused?"

Kiara's face was reddened by the second as a sudden laugh surpassed her lips. "A mother always knows." she chuckled.

With her eyes fluttered shut, y/n took this time to admire her once again. She watched her selfishly like no one else should have the honor of seeing Kiara in such a lighthearted state where only the two of them could be alone. Nothing was really funny about what she had said, but if she could hear her adorable snort, she didn't mind. She had a laugh like shattering glass, something you want to get so close to, but y/n was sure she would get cut with the shards.

"Right because you are so mother oriented." y/n mumbled, watching as Kiara calmed down and steadied her breathing; she brushed some hair from her face and settled down until her eyes caught y/n's. She could see wind stirred waves in her eyes. If one were brave enough to enter their depths, all else would blur, and you'd fall so deep in love that you'd choose to stay there no matter what.

Y/n was not sure what took over her. It must have been the ambiance of silence, but she couldn't take her eyes off Kiara's wet lips that had just consumed the wine. Uncertainty flooded Kiara's eyes as Y/n hesitantly moved forward, then gently cupped her jaw in her hands and pressed her lips against her lips. Kiara stayed frozen in place, her hands raised around y/n silhouette that was slightly hovering over her like she was afraid to touch her. Because if she touched her, then it made it real. But she wasn't pushing her away, and she didn't know why.

The kiss was innocent, new, an unknown territory that y/n was afraid to tread until now. All the expectations placed upon her to be the model daughter disappeared with Kiara Carrera. The perfect girl her mother wanted was defying everything society said was wrong. But if it was so wrong, why did she feel Kiara's hands touch her waist and kiss her back? The taste of wine was exchanged between their sweet kiss and shared breath. So sweet and savory like honey, but once Y/n pulled away and opened her eyes, her heart shattered like glass. As if what she had just done destroyed her whole being. The glass cut deep like she touched something that she shouldn't have, and now she was paying for it.

Next thing I know, I lose control

I finally kiss her, but oh no

I see a face in my window

then my brain starts to go

She saw her reflection. She saw herself. The reflection of someone she didn't recognize, and she felt an ache in her heart once she met Kiara's eyes again. At that moment, they both seemed to realize what they had done and quickly moved away from one another, standing up to face each other on either side of the bed.

No, you can't risk falling off your throne

Love

Is something you don't even know

Thunder rumbled in the sky, the clouds grayed and shifted the cold air into a moist, dewy atmosphere. Rain droplets raced down y/n umbrella, creating a curtain of water around her body as she stood barefoot at the beach. Her mind was lulled with last night's events, and she hated herself for driving Kiara away. Y/n eyes observed each raindrop like a kaleidoscope. She wondered if she could stop time just one last time, to suspend this watery gift and peek through each one. Perhaps it would be fun to sit inside one of those raindrops and take the gravity propelled ride to the earth. Maybe then, she would be able to melt away into nothingness.

She let her hands stretch out from the safety of her blue umbrella and felt the cold rain soak over her hand. Her eyes gloss over with unshed tears, thinking of the night with Kiara on the beach. Oh, how she wishes she could do it over, just to have on a normal night like that again.

The shifting of sand beside her pulled her from her thoughts, and she stiffened once she caught a glimpse of Kiara's curly hair beside her, holding her own yellow umbrella.

The sound of gentle rain upon the surface shielding their head is all that filled the air. That's what kept y/n from crying once Kiara began to speak.

"We can still be friends y/n."

The words hit her like a ton of bricks, and she didn't care when a warm tear slid down her cheek.

"Okay," she mumbles in response, not believing herself to say anymore. She would surely break down, and she couldn't hurt Kiara like that. Not when she cornered her in a difficult situation.

She could hear Kiara sniffle, and she faced her quickly. "I'm sorry, Yn. You have no idea how sorry I am, but-- I just can't do it."

Y/n chin wobbled, and she quickly bit down on her lip before a whimper could escape. "It's okay," she murmured with a crack in her voice.

That crack nearly broke Kiara in her entirely, and she nearly reached out to touch her arm but stopped.

"Y/n/n, please say something else," Kiara was now crying, her almond eyes looking darker, and the frown on her lips broke y/n's whole being. "Just say something to make me stay. And I will, but I have to hear it from you first."

Y/n let in a shaky breath and finally found the courage to look at Kiara. She tilted her head, a sad smile presenting itself on her quivering lips. "What is it worth if I can't tell everyone else that I love you, Kiara?"

Both girls stood silent, and the decision was made. Hours passed, and a lonesome blue umbrella stayed put on the beach while the yellow one was long gone. Once she was sure Kiara was gone, Y/n dropped the umbrella from her shaking hands and let the sob she held rack her body. She clapped a hand over her mouth to quiet the scream she wanted to let erupt. Holding her body, she let the rain drown out her cries and felt the memory of Kiara's lips be consumed by the raindrops to melt away into the earth.

Rewind, induce amnesia

Deny the truth it easier

You're just confused, believe her

When she says there's nothing there

It's never worth it

When you're little miss perfect.

@pogueszn @mdlyncline @cordeliascrown @acvross-the-universe

@x-lulu @bricksatanakinswindow @ponyboys-sunsets @kaitieskidmore1 @casper17 @moonshinerbynight @illbesafeforyou @crxstalreeds

#outer banks #obx fanfiction #obx cast #obx x reader #obx #obx kiara #obx kie #outer banks fic #outerbanks x you #outer banks x reader #outer banks angst #angst.#kiara carrera #kiara outer banks #kiara x y/n #kiara x reader #sarah obx #sarah cameron #topper thornton

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hypmic-writings · 4 years

Note

Hi! ☺️ Can i request a scenario where nemu’s friend ‘s been in love with samatoki and finally decided to tell him their feelings. For the ending, you can decide if you want it to be fluff or angst. Thank you and have a nice day 😊😊

Thanks for requesting! This was adorable and, like everything else I’ve ever written, got a bit out of hand. Hope you enjoy~

You watched closely as Samatoki, Ichiro, Sasara, and Kuko laughed and joked around at the table. Having taken a position in the kitchen, you were able to hear the discussion without having to be a part of it.

This lead you to a pastime you had recently become fond of – watching Samatoki.

You watched him closely as his face shifted through a range of emotions, noting how intense his scowl looked when he was annoyed, yet how charming his smile looked when he laughed. His silver hair was slightly pulled back and his sharp, red eyes watched his teammates closely as the conversation flowed.

“Y/N, you’re staring again,” Nemu giggled as you quickly turned towards her, your cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you mumbled, pulling out your phone in an effort to avoid her gaze. She laughed once more and nudged you gently in the arm.

“You can’t hide your feelings from me so easily, you know,” she said from the seat next to you. “Samatoki might be thick-headed, but I’m definitely not.”

You rolled your eyes at her, but took a moment to quickly glance back over at the table.

“I was just listening to their conversation. It’s not like I was paying any special attention to Samatoki,” you said, matter-of-factly. Nemu raised her eyebrow at you and shook her head.

“Oh yea? Tell me what they were just talking about,” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips. Your mind drew an utter blank and all you could think of was Samatoki’s jawline, and how good his outfit looked today.

“Um…a rap battle?” you guessed, knowing that this was the topic of 80% of their conversations. Nemu made a noise signaling that you had given the wrong answer and shook her head, bringing a hand up to her forehead.

“I don’t understand, if you like him so much, why not just ask him out?” she asked, pulling you over to the fridge so that you could help her put away the food she had bought.

You shifted your eyes quickly to Samatoki before bringing them back to your friend.

“I don’t know…what’s the point?” you asked, sighing. “He’s just going to say ‘sorry but I only think of you as a sister’ or something,” you grumbled, mimicking his voice. Nemu smiled encouragingly at you.

“Listen, I’ve known you since we were young and so has Samatoki. You’re a great friend and honestly, you make him a better person,” she iterated, tilting her head a bit. “And actually, I think you make him a lot less violent…” she trailed off in thought. You frowned a bit.

“What do you mean?” you asked, quizzically.

“Mmm, it’s hard to say exactly, but when he’s around you he gets a little softer. Like he doesn’t want to fight around you. Maybe he’s scared of hurting you?” she suggested. You bit your lip in thought.

“But he does the same with you, right? Wouldn’t that mean for sure that he thinks of me as a little sister?” you asked, sighing a bit. Nemu pouted and frowned.

“No, it’s different! I can’t explain it, but it is!” she exclaimed. You fidgeted with the hem of your dress as you thought about Samatoki.

It’s true that you had known him for an incredibly long time, but these feelings had never been this strong before. They had really only begun to form in the past few years. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to act natural around the boy when all he did was make your cheeks flush and your heart race.

Naturally, Nemu found out quickly, but Samatoki was non the wiser.

“Just go for it,” Nemu said, taking your had in her own and squeezing it encouragingly. “Plus, if you marry him, you’ll be my sister for real!” she squealed happily, making you blush once more and hush her quickly.

A few days later, you found yourself at the Aohitsugi residence once more. Nemu had texted you, asking if you wanted to go out, and you had agreed to meet her at her apartment. Unfortunately, she must have been running late, because when the door opened, it was Samatoki.

“Ah, S-Samatoki!” you exclaimed in surprise, your heart already beginning to beat a bit faster than normal. Samatoki casually took a step back, opening the door for you as he spoke.

“Hey, Y/N. Nemu had to run out for an errand real quick, but she said she would be back soon,” Samatoki said, pulling your coat from your hands and hanging it up for you. You took a deep breath and wondered if your friend had planned to leave you alone with him like this.

“Okay, that’s fine. I’ll just wait for her then,” you replied, trying to be calm, but finding your voice a few notes higher than usual. Samatoki frowned and looked over at you.

“You okay? Do you want some tea or anything? It’s pretty cold outside,” he remarked, closing the door quickly and following you into the apartment. You shook your head with a nervous smile.

“No, you don’t have to go through the trouble. I’m sure she’ll be here soon enough,” you said, waving your hands out in front of you. Samatoki shrugged.

“Whatever you say,” he said. “I’m putting on a pot for myself though, so I can’t promise I won’t make you some anyways,” he added, shooting you a small smile that made your breath catch in your throat.

You averted your eyes and quickly cleared your throat as you placed your bag on a nearby chair. There was a brief moment of silence as your thoughts raced. This was one of the very few times you had ever been completely alone with Samatoki. Maybe Nemu was right…maybe you had to clear the air with him. Regardless of how he felt about you, he deserved to know your feelings for him.

You would just have to deal with the aftermath.

You slowly turned from your spot towards the kitchen, clasping your hands together as your heart raced in your chest. Where you were once feeling cold when you walked into the apartment, you now felt like you were on fire.

You watched Samatoki for a moment as he poured water into the kettle. When he noticed you standing in the corner of the kitchen he looked up.

“Huh? What’s up? You look like you’re gonna throw up,” Samatoki said, a plain look on his face. You quickly covered your face with your hands and shook your head. Why would he say something like that!?

“No, it’s not…I’m fine,” you managed, taking a deep breath before looking back over at Samatoki. He had put down the pot and you know had his complete attention. His ruby eyes seemed to sparkle as the gazed at you and you willed yourself not to get lost in them.

“There’s something that I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while…” you began, slowly and trying to sound as sure of yourself as possible. “…I just never really knew how to say it…honestly, I still don’t think I know.”

You continued to hold his gaze as you bit your lip in anticipation.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, confused now. You quickly began to speak once more, afraid that you would be interrupted or lose the will to confess your feelings.

“I have feelings for you, Samatoki,” you blurted out, feeling the heat rise to your face as you quickly dropped your gaze down to your feet. “I’m not sure what brought them on, but…I like you,” you stated, a bit quieter now.

There was a brief moment of silence which made you slowly lift your gaze up to Samatoki’s. What you saw in his eyes was surprise and a bit of confusion. When he didn’t move or speak you frowned, your hand over your heart which was pounding hard.

“Do you like me?” you asked, barely audibly. When he realized that your eyes were now on him in anticipation, Samatoki moved his gaze away from you.

You could have been wrong, but you thought his cheeks appeared to be just the slightest shade of pink.

“What are you talking about? Of course, I like you,” he mumbled, crossing his arms in front of him. “I’ve known you forever. If I didn’t like you by now, you would know,” he added, his words sharp but his tone soft.

You could only let the words sink in and wonder if he was reciprocating your feelings, or if he had misunderstood you.

“No, Samatoki,” you said, working up the nerve to ask him as directly as possible. “I have…romantic…feelings for you…” you trailed off, dropping your eyes once more as the words you spoke were far too embarrassing to say to his face. You didn’t have to wait long for a response as Samatoki shifted in front of you.

“Yea, I got that,” he stated defensively. “…I’m not stupid you know…” he grumbled under his voice.

His words made you quickly look back at him, finding his face to be even more lit with a pink hue than before. He was turned away and had his eyes fixed elsewhere. This didn’t bother you though as you felt yourself break into a smile with a sigh of relief.

“Really? So you feel the same way?” you asked, bringing your hands together and gazing up at him with hope in your heart. He glanced back at you before closing his eyes and sighing, bringing a hand to the back of his neck.

“Yea, I guess you could say that…” he stated, lowly. You covered your mouth with your hand as you excitedly took a step towards him. He looked down at you now with wide eyes and shook his head.

“What’s with that face?” he asked, quickly holding his head high and keeping a straight face. You reached out and took his hand in your own, grinning at him, unable to contain your own happiness.

“I’m just really happy you feel the same way too! I was worried…” you started, but then decided it would be better not to tell him your worries.

Samatoki started slightly at your touch and gazed at you with wide eyes, his heart beating just a bit faster as you looked up at him with a loving smile. He turned away once more, pressing his lips into a thin line and feeling his cheeks warm up once again.

“You shouldn’t wait so long to tell me these kinds of things. Next time say something sooner, okay?” he said, turning all of his attention to the water on the boiler. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Next time?” you asked.

Before Samatoki could say anything else, the door opened and a voice called out.

“I’m home!”

You felt Samatoki jump at the sound and you quickly let go of his hand, taking a step back. You tried to leave the kitchen but before you could, Nemu popped her head into the doorway with a grin.

“Did I miss anything fun?”

#samatoki #samatoki aohitsugi #hypmic #hypnosis mic #samatoki x reader #samatoki aohitsugi x reader #hypmic imagines #hypmic scenarios #hypmic drabbles #imagines #scenarios #drabbles

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overobsessivewhumper · 4 years

Text

Mutt’s new Master

This one’s a bit messy and not that whumpy. But there is more suffering coming, do not worry. I might write out a bit of Caleb’s time with Mr. Hughes if anyone’s got any interest in that (I’m gonna write it anyway, just won’t post it all to soon if no one’s interested)

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Content warning: Reference to past abuse, idolisation of abuser

Tag list: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @im-not-rare-im-rarr @comfortforthepain @18-toe-beans @haro-whumps @deluxewhump @kungpao-giffy

Caleb wakes up to his own screaming an flailing, and eventually a sharp pain when he hits his head on the coffee table. Then he is his hit by the pain of all his other injuries flaring up in protest as he hits the floor. It also hits him that this isn’t his Masters house. This isn’t where he’s supposed to be! Tears well up in his eyes as he tries to figure out where he could be and where his Master could have went. That’s when someone came running down the stairs, wielding a vase in one hand, and looking rather distraught. But the thing was, Caleb knew that someone. His new Master, Gavin.

Oh yeah. That’s right. His old Master sold… no. Gave him away. He had been bad one too many times. His Master was forced to give him away. Caleb wanted to cry even more now.

His current Master was looking around frantically, still wielding the vase.

“You’re the only one here, right?” Caleb answers his Master with a nod. Gavin sighs, looks at the vase, then puts it down on the table that Caleb hit his head on. “For a moment I thought someone broke in or something…” He sits on the couch, and looks at Caleb. “Nightmare, huh?”

Caleb shakes his head. He still remembered his dream vividly. It was about his old Master. It was impossible for a Pet to have a nightmare about his Master, especially if that Master was as ridiculously lenient, good-hearted and kind as his old Master.

“N… Not… Not a nightmare. Jus… just a… a dream.”

“Oh… Okay.” He silently studies Caleb for a moment. Caleb looks down at his hands. “Would… you like me to help you back up onto the couch?” Caleb looked up at him. He knew that Gavin apparently allows him onto furniture, but it feels so wrong to him.

“If… if it’s all the sa… same to y… you Master, I… I’d rather stay on the flo… floor…” Caleb hopes his Master doesn’t see this as defiance.

“Oh… I… okay then. Want to talk about it?”

Still looking at his new Master, Caleb shifted, clenching his teeth to prevent any noise from escaping his lips. He didn’t want to talk about it. Not really. He’d dreamt about things in the past. How he’d been bad, and had to be corrected. He didn’t want to tell his new Master about how horribly bad he had been in the past. He’d find out himself soon enough. So he shook his head.

“Oh… Well… I can understand that.”

Picking at one of the bandages that covered his knee, Caleb thought. He knew it was bad to think too much, but he couldn’t help it, especially with all the things that had happened in such a short time. He’d been bad enough for Master to give him away! He couldn’t just not think about it. But he couldn’t change it, and instead was grateful for how kind his Master had been to him in their time together, and how much better he’d made him and how Master had given him to a new Master, instead of having him put down.

Carefully, trying not to seem nosy, Caleb looked up at his new Master out of the corner of his eye. His Master just sat there, staring out into the distance.

Caleb thought his new Master was… well… Odd. Not in a judging way! Imagine the disrespect! A Pet judging his Master! No. More in the sense of that Caleb didn’t understand him yet and it was all just so… Confusing!

First off obviously was that he wanted to be called Gavin. Caleb couldn’t understand why. And secondly, where were the rules?! It scared Caleb, not knowing whether he was doing something his Master permitted, or not! It scared him that his Master told him nothing about how to behave and how he can be better for him. For a moment, Caleb wishes he’d be back with his old Master. There he knew how to make Master happy, how he could be a good Pet for him and how he’d be punished if he was bad. But here, he knew nothing. Not even what kind of punishments Master would deal out. He doesn’t even have his collar or muzzle anymore.

But he quickly pushed that taught away. He should be grateful that he had a Master at all. Being a Pet in a privilege, and striving to become good for a Master is a gift. So that’s what he does. He gets onto his knees, biting his lip to keep in the scream that threatens to leave his mouth, and looks up at Gavin.

“Thank y… you for letting me… me rest Mast… Master. Wh… What can I do to… to repay y… you?” He focuses his eyes on his Master , giving him his undivided attention. Caleb’s old Master taught him that Pet’s biggest focus must always be their Master, and Caleb lived by that. His old Master was a very wise man.

“Ex… Excuse me, what?” Gavin’s eyes widen, and his eyebrows are scrunched together. Caleb has no idea what this is supposed to mean, so he just answers his Masters question.

“It… It is a Pet’s gre… greatest privilege to ser… serve their Master. Pl… pl… please let me serve y… you Master! I ca… can be very useful! Please let me… me be useful…” Caleb doesn’t look away form Gavin, not even for a moment. Gavin looks back at him, also not looking away.

“Could… could you excuse me for a moment?” Caleb’s Master gets up, and almost bolts away into the kitchen. Caleb hopes he hasn’t been bad again, but suppresses the tears that build up in his eyes. He knows that if he’s been bad, Master will correct him, and he will learn to be better. Maybe even good.

In the kitchen, Gavin lets himself slide to the floor against the closed door. What on earth was he going to do?! His boss had fucked Caleb up, and fucked him up bad. Gavin wasn’t good at things like this. Gavin wasn’t a doctor, nor was he a psychologist. Resting his face in his hands, he tried not to freak out. If he didn’t play along, Caleb would most likely freak out, thinking he’d been bad, but Gavin couldn’t just make the injured man… do work for him! He had to do something…

Caleb obviously wasn’t just going to… change his views of himself. Beating himself up about it hard, Gavin decided to find something for Caleb to do. Something easy, with no walking about involved. Cleaning was way off the agenda, and so was cooking. There wasn’t much to do…

But then Gavin had an idea. He got up, rushed past Caleb, adding a hasty “I’ll be back in a moment!” whilst going past. He went upstairs to his bedroom and started pulling his neatly folded clothes out of the cupboard and drawers, undoing his own handy work in favour of giving Caleb something to do which let him sit down whilst doing it. Looking at the mess he’d made with his cloths, he decided that this would do, and went to get Caleb.

The whole time Caleb went up the stairs (He refused to take any help and promised he could do it by himself) Gavin stayed closely behind the shaky, limping man, ready to catch him if ever he’d fall. He did the same whilst Caleb walked down the hall to the room Gavin had pointed him to.

“Can you fold clothes?” Caleb nodded, not looking back at him. Gavin kept his mouth shut for the last few meters to his room.

Once in the room, Gavin pointed to the bed.

“Those are… my cloths. They need to be… uh… folded. Take your time so that they are… folded… um… nicely.” Caleb nodded and moved to kneel down next to the bed. “Oh and I want you sitting on the bed.” Caleb gives him a slightly confused look, but sits on the bed anyway. “I’ll be… in my office. That’s the next room to the right from here. Just ask if you don’t understand something.” When Caleb nods and begins folding clothes, Gavin goes to his office room.

There he sits down at the desk and lays his head on the surface of the table. Gavin can’t believe he’s the owner of a Pet, and is actually making the poor man do house chores for him! Feeling like a massive asshole, Gavin opens his laptop and searches the internet for anything useful concerning trauma. Gavin just hopes he did the right thing by making Caleb do work already now.

#my writing #whump #but not in a very whumpy way #gavin #caleb #reference to past abuse #idolisation of abuser #this is messy #but i had fun #gavin and mutt

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powertobehandsome · 7 years

Text

In the Wake || Andrew and Ryan

Part one. I broke this up by scene. But I love these two a whole hell of a lot. Also, pretty sure this is the only safe for work part. XD ily. || @theveritasi

“What do you think Seth and Matt are up to?” Foggy asked Ryan, once his bagel popped out of the toaster. “And you said – Montparnasse went off with an assassin? Like, what, to – assassinate people together? That’s kind of – ow, ow, hot – disturbing.” He sucked on his fingertips, then started putting cream cheese on.

“Probably having sex on the still littered with dinner dining room table?” Ryan replied casually, shrugging as he said it. “And as for the other two? I didn’t ask much about what they do together. I know that the one guy is the one who… I mean, I was there when he delivered Elektra and Seth. But he’s a damn good shot with a gun. Scary good. And… I suppose his accent is kinda hot….

"Erm. Sorry. Montparnasse’s shamelessness I think is getting to my head.”

Foggy shrugged and came back over with the bagel, then plopped down on the couch with him. “So… how are you doing? I mean – I kinda thought, and I don’t mean any offense, but I wasn’t sure if there was something between you and the little guy? Was it just professional, um, whatever he does? CIA?”

Foggy immediately raised his hands. “Not that I am asking what he does. I really, really don’t want to know the truth.”

“I mean… He literally healed my gunshot wound with a kiss. And I’m not saying I wouldn’t have slept with him. But there was no… I’m not quite as quick to fall in love with people as Seth is…” Ryan sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mean that to sound like he jumps from one person to the next. He doesn’t. Actually, I haven’t seen him with someone in a few years. But when he starts to fall for someone, he goes all in.”

This hadn’t been at all what Foggy had asked, and Ryan looked awkwardly down at his hands. “This is why I don’t talk much. I don’t know what ‘Parnasse does. Few afternoons over there and I’m still as unsure as ever.”

“If it’s any consolation, we’ve known him about a year, and I still don’t even know what neighborhood he lives in. Super secretive little guy. Hey, you want a beer?” Foggy popped up to get himself one, and paused at the fridge.

“Please,” Ryan called back, his arm stretching along the back of the couch. “So, has there been any more threats from Elektra’s minions since the day she died?”

“Not that I’ve heard… as far as I know, everything’s just like, normal and stuff.” He came back with the beer and sat down again, handing Ryan his. “So are you okay, though? And if I am prying too much, just let me know, I know I pry, it’s a thing. But you and Montparnasse, are you bummed? Cause I bet I could totally beat up the… what is the other guy? French? I could totally take him.”

“The assassin? He’s English, I think. And it’s like he has this high-class tinge to his accent, but he tries to hide it. Like he’s ashamed of the money he probably came from. And I mean… I’m maybe a little bummed. Though, the guy is like… forty. A professional hitman. And, honestly, he’s not bad looking. Have you ever seen pictures of Wade Wilson without his mask? Seth showed them to me a year or so ago while he was working on one of his stories. I think that is what Wilson would look like if his skin hadn’t been fucked up.”

Ryan shrugged and took a sip of the beer, seeming to relax as it worked through his body. “I’m plenty happy spending my time in New York looking at architecture and historical sites. Or relaxing with friends. I don’t really need a whirlwind romance. It’s fine if it comes. But…” He shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Hey, you’re worth more than just a fling anyway. But like, at least if the little guy is hanging out with you and doing whatever shaaady stuff you guys have been doing, that’s got to mean something, right? Cause the vibe I got off him? Is he’s like that X-Files thing. Trust No One. Or… no, yeah, yeah, that was on at least one episode, instead of the truth is out there.

"So architecture though, huh? Are you like – is that what you do?”

Ryan nodded. “I worked construction as a teenager before the Cohen’s took me in. Then Kirsten worked in her father’s housing development company. And I got to be around floor plans and home designs, and they put me in a really great private school which actually gave me the opportunity to go to college…

“I work in a small firm now, making my way one design at a time. But I’m doing it on my own. Kirsten didn’t set me up with the job. So I… guess I’m kind of happy with what I’ve accomplished. But what about you, Foggy? Any romances to speak of?”

“Nah…” He sighed. “I’m super in love with our assistant, Karen, but there’s nothing there, I mean. I think she just has eyes for Matt, you know? Which most people do. Doesn’t matter who. He just…. ssshhhhhp, draws them in. And sometimes I sleep with a shark, Marcy, but she’s…. scary. Like really scary. Also not a relationship. I dunno. Maybe some things just aren’t meant to be right away, right?

"You must be really smart though. Isn’t that basically all math?”

“Math is what I’m good at, yeah. But it’s… I don’t know, Architecture in college wasn’t quite what I expected it to be. You had four hour studio classes twice a week to work on "rough models” for your final project. And the teacher would assign like… thirty models to be completed. And then it was sketches, which I’m not terribly great at, but I know how a building works, I took a few engineering classes to accompany it because what good does a building do you if it’s pretty but not structurally sound.“ Ryan shrugged. "Math is easy. There’s always one correct answer. And… fitting a building together is sometimes like tetris. It’s a puzzle. I enjoy it.”

“And I know what you mean about the girls, or the relationships, I guess. Sometimes it just doesn’t work because it’s not meant to right then.”

“Yeah… but it’s nice to have warm fuzzy feelings anyway, even if they aren’t returned.” He took another swallow of the beer, bit the bagel, then made an excited sound. When he could talk again, he asked, “Have you been to the underground grave thing in Paris? That’s a thing, right? That’s supposed to be really interesting with – I’m sorry, I literally don’t anything about architecture, just exciting stuff I see on YouTube, but, have you?”

“I haven’t. I kept telling myself I was going to get out of the county. Especially since literally everybody I know in California has been. But I just never made it out. I read about them in school though.” Ryan sat back and listened to the thunder rattle the windows and the rain pour down. He drank the beer slowly, and let it warm his face. “I see Seth got you caught up on the good bagels. That kid… he got it from his dad. Bagels are a Jewish holy commodity.”

“I think they’re an everybody holy commodity. Want a bite? Also, you should go with Andrew. I can’t, we have another tenancy case coming up that’s probably going to take twenty hours a day because of stupid reasons, but Andrew mentioned going back to Europe and wanting to drag someone along. It’s kind of tough to picture him getting lonely cause, I mean, perfect man, but he said he was gonna go to a couple countries.. I’m not sure why though. Something about Transylvania? Maybe he needs to get in touch with his vampire side or something.”

People said things, and Ryan just nodded and went along with it. Assassins was the easiest to believe. Then superheroes and vampires. He didn’t know what was next, nor did he care to find out. But Ryan mulled over the proposal and pursed his lips in consideration. “I might do that, if he really wants someone to join him. I’m sure I can leave Seth here with Matt, though I’m sure he’ll be busy helping you with work. Still, Seth would make a pretty good housewife. Except he’s terrible about cleaning up after himself…” Ryan smirked. “Speaking of your job. I don’t think I’ve formally thanked you for what you did for us. And then… I remember… you sitting at my bedside. And just. You are a better friend than you are attorney, and for me, that is saying something. Because you were one hell of an attorney for me and Seth.”

Foggy was suddenly staring down at beer and bagel, trying not to cry. It was stupid how really nice, happy things just got to someone sometimes. After a minute, he just mentally said fuck it and leaned over and scooped Ryan up into a hug.

“Uugghhh, you made me cry, jerkface. Thank you. I’m glad that – you know. Glad to be your friend. Thanks.” Before the hug could get too long, he made himself let go. “Sorry. Um. Exuberant hugger.”

Ryan laughed awkwardly and hugged him back, but relaxed back onto the couch when he was released. “No worries. Did you… have any plans for tonight. It’s raining pretty hard. We could go crash whatever party Matt and Seth are having. Or we could go to a bar… though maybe not Josie’s. I don’t think they want me in there again.”

“Yeeaaaah let’s maybe avoid Josie’s for the time being.” He laughed and took another bite of the bagel. “If they’re having sex though, we should probably leave them alone. Is there anywhere you’ve wanted to go yet but haven’t? Wanna pick up Andrew on the way, tell him that he’s taking you with him?”

“I don’t actually know if they’re having sex. I just know Seth had planned to make him dinner. They’ve both seemed… pretty hesitant on the physical affection, or as far as I’ve seen. And Seth isn’t really shy about PDA. So I don’t know. Probably reading too much into it. But yeah, Andrew sounds like a good plan. I’m sure he’ll take us some place that even I can’t afford.”

“I dunno, man, you notice how they just constantly orient towards each other? Like if Seth moves, Matt adjusts a little, and vice versa? There’s totally something there. Like, something real, I think. And sweet, okay. Let me…” He hopped up, grabbed his phone, put it on speaker, and called Andrew – but it didn’t ring. Instead, there was a strange, static whooshing noise.

“What the…"

"Sorry,” Andrew said, materializing in the corner. “I was incorporeal. What’s up?”

“JESUS SHIT CHRIST OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

Ryan had jumped enough at hearing the man’s voice that his beer spilled over his hand and onto his jeans, but he didn’t actually say anything. When the reality of the situation settled, the tension visibly eased from his shoulders and he sat back on the couch, licking the beer from his hand.

“Do you always lurk in corners?”

“I wasn’t lurking! Are you two okay?"

"Well not now that you gave me a freaking heart attack!” Foggy waved the last bite of bagel at Andrew. “We were gonna invite you to go out, or maybe to crash Seth and Matt’s whatever they’re–"

Andrew made a face and shook his head. "Privacy for them tonight."

"Whaa— wow — okay — well – Ryan, you have anywhere in mind tonight? Or do we let Captain Sexypants pick?”

Ryan smirked at the face Andrew made. “I told you they were probably doing it on the dinner Seth made them tonight.” He stood and downed the rest of his beer before finding the recycling bin and tossing it in. “I have nowhere particular in mind. This is your city. And I am just looking to go along for the ride.”

Andrew smiled. Montparnasse was right, he thought, Ryan really was a charmer. He didn’t quite understand why 'Parnasse had practically fallen into Sebastian’s pants when he could have tried to go after something casual but sweet with this man, but to each their own.

“Alright. Well… if you guys leave it up to me, I’m going to drag you out to do karaoke with me."

"YES! I love karaoke! I mean. I’m the worst at it. But I can make your hands clap! Let me just – put on a different shirt. Cause this one smells like – ew. Law.” Foggy dashed into his bedroom.

Ryan watched Foggy go with an affectionate smile, and then looked back at Andrew, his lips pinching into a smile and an awkward sort of look around the room.

“So… karaoke? I don’t… I mean. I don’t dance. And I’m really not a… social butterfly, I guess. So I’m happy to go and watch you two charm the crowd. But I don’t really… get involved… with that kind of thing. I’m really no fun at all. But I’m good at watching other people have fun. So there’s that.”.

Curious, Ryan was tempted to ask for more details about Seth and Matt, but he also knew it was none of his business, so he paced a little, waiting for Foggy to return.

“Do crowds make you uncomfortable?” he asked, sounding apologetic. “Hey man, it’s cool, we’ll find something else to do. What sounds best to you? Because I am super flexible."

Foggy came out holding a dark blue shirt in one hand and a Hawaiian print in the other. "Which?”

“No. No. Shit. I’m sorry. That’s not at all the vibe I meant to give off. I want to go. I just… may not sing. But please. Don’t change the plans. I’m fine around crowds. I’m just awkward.” He felt like a dick for saying anything at all. “Sorry.

"The… Hawaiian,” Ryan said, even though the shirt was borderline offensive with how ugly it was. It fit the whole karaoke night theme of fun and ridiculousness. And Ryan thought it was perfect.

Foggy nodded and disappeared.

Andrew, feeling like a dick for having asked, said, “No, don’t be sorry. Please. One of my friends can’t do crowds at all, they make him just sort of – he locks up and can’t function if he gets caught in one. As long as you won’t be feeling bad, we’re totally good.” Since they were going somewhere casual as hell, and Andrew was already wearing an all-black suit, he stripped out of his jacket while they talked. The tie came off, and then his shirt; under, he had on a sleeveless, tight, black undershirt. He put the jacket back on, leaving it unbuttoned, and while some guys might have looked a little douchey, Andrew managed to look amazing – but being the next best thing to a model had its perks.

Foggy came out in shorts, sandals (with socks), the Hawaiian shirt, and a huge grin. “Okay. This is gonna be awesome. Ryan, I’d offer to loan you something, but all my stuff’s gonna be super baggy on you. Are we ready to rock and roll?”

Ryan was dressed in dark jeans and a charcoal grey t-shirt. He looked casual enough, but not overly so. and watching the two men stand side by side was the most amusing combination he’d ever seen. He smirked at Foggy, and then his eyes shifted again to Andrew – who Ryan had just appreciatively watched undress in the living room – and his gaze darkened just a little, likely unnoticeable to either party. He shook the settling lust away and cleared his throat.

“Shall we?” he asked, heading for the door and holding it open for both of them. “I… don’t mean to sound like a dick. But the stereotype for New Yorkers, is that none of you know how to drive. So, with my own safety planted somewhere in the back of my mind, how far away is this place? Do we get to take the subway? I’ve… that’s something I’m still yet to do. But if it’s too…” He looked at Andrew and smirked. “If it’s slumming it too much, we can always use another mode of transportation.”

“The subway? Oh, oh dear, no. No, mmm-mm. I hear there are locals down there.” Andrew grinned at Ryan as he passed by him, and Foggy awkwardly tried to hold the door for Ryan.

“I dunno, Andrew, maybe locals are juuuuust what you need. And the kid wants to take the subway! Let’s take the subway."

Andrew’s eyes were practically sparkling and he nodded. "Subway it is, then. And I’m not from New York, I know how to drive – for the record. I just don’t own a car."

Foggy snorted. "What’s a car? Hey, Ryan, what’s a car?”

“Don’t know. I drive a Range Rover.”

He had met Andrew’s sparkling eyes and lifted a brow in response, following him out the door when Foggy tried to be the one to hold it, and then waited for him to lock it before they set off.

Ryan was quiet through most of their walk to the nearest entrance to the subway, and he had to purchase a temporary card for two and a half dollars, but when he swiped it and stood on the deck waiting for the next train to arrive, there was something disgusting and wonderful and exciting about the whole thing. It was… maybe nothing special. But it made him happy to be there, with these two loons, on his way to go to a karaoke bar?

Fuck, if anybody had told him before he boarded the plane in California that this would be the adventure he’d encounter in New York, he would have laughed at them and stayed home and gone swimming in his pool. But now… Now he couldn’t be more grateful.

“Thank you, guys. I’m really glad to have made friends here.”

Foggy laughed and crushed both of them to his chest in a bear hug. “I’m glad, too. You’re awesome, Ryan, you are awesome."

—-

When they went back up into the world, Foggy was a little hesitant at the neighborhood. He had been in some rough places, but the street practically reeked of crime. For a moment he balked, but when Andrew walked out there like he hadn’t a care in the world, Foggy looked over at Ryan. "Ever sort of feel like your balls shrunk a little? Cause pretty sure mine did."

The bar wasn’t too far away from the station, and once they were there, Foggy’s hesitation flew out the window. It was crowded and a little seedy looking, but the energy made up for it. The people were happy here, there was a lot of laughter and cheer, and it was one of the most positive places he’d been in a long time, even with the two people up on stage yowling terribly into a microphone.

Andrew was already delighted, and he slipped an arm around both of their waists, holding each man for just a moment as if Ryan and Foggy were the most beautiful, wonderful, treasured people on the planet. "What are you guys drinking? I’ll go get them if you want to try and find a table or something?”

Ryan’s lips parted as he took in all the people, and he looked around, trying to spot some place they could all sit together. The closer to the stage it got, the scarcely populated the tables seemed to be. But Ryan figured that was exactly where Foggy and Andrew wanted to sit. A spot opened up, and Ryan patted Foggy on the chest and nodded in the direction of the table. He looked back at Andrew. “A seven and seven,” he replied, winking and then gesturing toward the front of the room. “We’ll be up there.”

They arrived at the table just before a few girls did, girls who batted their eyes at him one ran her hand along his thigh. He leaned in to whisper “I’m gay,” in her ear, and then pursed his lips apologetically. “He’s available, though,” he said, nodding toward Foggy. “And a lawyer. And, from what I’ve heard, a complete knock out in bed. But he has a tendency to date the high profile women, so I understand if you’re a little intimidated.”

Ryan was enjoying watching her expression shift with each thing he whispered to her, not even sure if Foggy was interested in hooking up, but if he didn’t then at least this girl would think it was because he was a snob and didn’t think she was “high profile” enough.

He wasn’t looking for a hook up from some girl he met in a bar, and, he figured, these girls would all flock to Andrew the moment he arrived. Truthfully, he wished they wouldn’t loiter around their table, but there didn’t seem many other places for them to sit. “What’s your name?” Ryan asked after a minute. The girl who had once rubbed his leg, who was now making eyes at Foggy, turned to look at Ryan and smiled. “Marissa.”

“Oh.”

When Andrew came back with their drinks – it was another beer for Foggy – he picked up a hint of unexpected sadness. Foggy was in seventh heaven it seemed, happily flirting away, but there was just something a little more somber about Ryan than there had been a few minutes ago.

“You okay?” he murmured to Ryan as he handed him his drink.

Ryan seemed to shake out of his trance the moment he heard Andrew’s voice and gave a warm smile and a nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Blast from the past kind of snuck up on me. Reminder of someone I used to know. But I’m good.” He watched as Marissa caught sight of Andrew, but when she saw him lean in to talk to Ryan, she understood that clearly they had to be together. She looked at Foggy again and then pretended to pout about how there were no more stools left to sit in, then asked if she could sit in his lap.

Ryan laughed.

“Thank you, for the drinks, I mean. And this place… I see why you chose it. What are you going to sing first?”

“What do you want to hear?” Andrew brushed his shoulder against Ryan’s, wanting to do something, anything to help cheer him up.

The girls seemed to have communicated to each other that he and Ryan were a couple, as all of them shifted their attention to Foggy, who could not have been happier with one in his lap and his arm around another, and both of them were actually talking to him. He listened to every word – as best he could – and was absolutely enraptured, entranced by their beauty and already lost in the happiness of getting to know them.

Ryan, for some reason, appreciated the graze, and genuinely felt comforted by it. It had felt like more than just a brush of shoulders, but a way to reach out when reaching out may not have been possible, or if Andrew was worried about it being unwanted.

“Something… classic. Maybe not Sinatra. Because that might be a little too… You should sing Piano man. I guarantee you the entire bar will sing along. And they will all love you.”

“Okay. But no matter how many people sing along, or how much they love me? I’ll be singing it for you.” Andrew met his eyes as he said it, absolutely sincere. The song was one of the most popular karaoke tunes out there, but it was usually picked up later in the night, when the alcohol started to touch on sorrows that the memory had wrapped in beauty. If this was what Ryan wanted to hear, Andrew intended to give it his all – for Ryan. Not for himself, not to amuse the bar, but because Ryan deserved to hear it sung by a friend who was willing to pour his heart into every word, as if he’d been there in the bar and met all the people the song was about.

“Hey,” Foggy said, when Andrew was walking past, “sign me up for Yellow Submarine, okay?"

"You got it, man.” Andrew smiled and slipped away.

When another group of girls arrived – very late friends – the girls departed, leaving Foggy in a happy daze. “Okay, that? Was amazing. How? How the heck did you just like, make them so happy? They actually wanted to talk to me. You’re magic or something, Ryan."

Andrew came back, a smile in his eyes, but his expression mild, and he sat with them.

Ryan had truly enjoyed watching Foggy receive all the attention he deserved. He watched Marissa write a phone number, drunkenly, on a bar napkin, but all ten digits were there, so perhaps there would be future fun nights there for Foggy, or perhaps he would just let it go. Either way, Ryan was pleased that it had worked. Besides, he was certain he was really doing the girls as much of a favor as he had been doing for Foggy. He had no doubt Andrew would have shown them a good time too, and Ryan had never let on that Andrew had been his partner, but if that was what they wanted to suspect, and Foggy reaps all the reward for it, then that was even better.

As Andrew returned, Ryan’s eyes lifted to meet his, and he returned a soft smile. "It’s typical, I know. But it… I’ve always liked that song. Thanks.”

Ryan sipped at his drink slowly, looking around at all the people, the variety and the enjoyment so many of them were having, some a little more than others, some, perhaps, needed to skip off to a private room to finish the conversation they were having. But regardless, Ryan enjoyed watching them all. He leaned back to say something to Andrew, and brushed against him, not realizing he was quite so close. “Sorry… I… How long until you’re up? And… What are you drinking? So I can get the next round?”

“Don’t be sorry. I love contact…. and I’m not drinking. I can’t drink anything but – one very, very special drink. But it’s nice to smell the booze, and taste it on the air… Anyway. You’re sweet, but drinks on me, okay? Because you two have had a ridiculous week and deserve to get spoiled a little.” Andrew looked over at him and met his eyes for a moment with a soft smile, then looked back ahead. “I’m three songs after Foggy, who should be up – now."

Foggy had a blast. He was utterly shameless, sang with enthusiasm, and had people laughing and singing along. He enjoyed himself, even if he did (whale) off key a little too often. When he bounced back down off the stage, he was absolutely elated, and he gave Andrew a big sloppy kiss on the face, then another for Ryan. "Mwa! I love you guys! And this bar. YES!"

"Foggy, you were great!"

"Um, hell yes I was!”

When it was Andrew’s turn, the crowd was already cheering the second they recognized the familiar song, Ryan was right about that. But just before the lyrics began, something strange happened: they went silent. Something moved through the audience before Andrew even began to sing, as if the essence of the song was already here, brought to life, slipping through them – and then he was singing, and his voice was silk. Even on a song that had a sad, sweet, whimsical feeling, Andrew’s smooth voice fit beautifully, and then the song was truly alive.

The applause afterwards was almost deafening for the vampire, who gave a somewhat embarrassed smile and quickly skittered out of the light and back down to the table.

“Right I… forgot. I guess that gives the phrase, next drink is on me, a whole new meaning.” He winked, of all fucking things to do to a man that looked like Andrew, sitting in a bar. But there it was, none the less, and Ryan blushed a little and looked back toward the stage.

Ryan felt happy, truly so, and he couldn’t remember being quite this care free. Foggy was perfect, and the entire bar had loved him. And then Andrew was on stage, the spotlight causing his eyes to shine and his charm to emanate. Apparently, more than Ryan had originally suspected. Because while he’d heard bars quite down for a good song, he had never before seen everybody completely stop talking just for the ability to witness what was happening on that stage.

But gods it was wonderful. And Ryan’s chest hurt a little at how beautiful the moment was. As Andrew joined them again, Ryan feigned offense. “Excuse you. Where the fuck is our kiss? Foggy gave one after his performance. I thought it was customary.”

“Definitely customary,” Andrew said, happy to oblige. The song had been for Ryan, all the sentiment and the beauty, the pain that mixed in with it, the slight traces of bitterness and resignation, everything that came together to make that almost hopeful melody had all been for him, and there was no better way than to seal it with a kiss, right? But unlike Foggy, Andrew’s kiss wasn’t sloppy – just maybe a little too intimate. The kiss was lingering and sweet and loving, and when their lips parted, Andrew smiled before giving him one more short, quick kiss.

He turned to Foggy and winked at him, blowing one to him, then sat down next to Ryan to watch the next performer, although the DJ was wisely giving people a little bit of time to recover.

“I should have said earlier, but next drink’s on me is the most beautiful phrase,” Andrew commented, light and cheerful and flirty, dropping his head back a bit so he could look over at Ryan and smile without any possessiveness, without any lust, just with an intimate sort of openness.

The kiss had been more than Ryan had expected, and it had taken a lot – a lot – of willpower to not lift a hand up to cup Andrew’s face as he sat there with lips attached to his and a largely still quiet bar. The applause had been deafening, and a lot of people had had their eyes hungrily on Andrew after his performance, and Ryan had even spied a few women, and a couple men, as they set their drink to the side, and then lifted themselves off their barstool to head Andrew’s way. They also seemed to fail to notice each other. But with the kiss, all of them had stopped short.

People still managed to pass by and pat Andrew on the shoulder, and Ryan, with warm cheeks and an almost shy smile, lifted a hand to his mouth to try to hide some of the ridiculously happy smile that had planted itself on his face and refused to budge.

How would he retain his tough exterior with the underground-fighter vibe if he went around kissing pretty boys and then blushing over it?

A part of Ryan envied Seth a little for how easy it had been for him. But Ryan also was enjoying his own trail – the things he was learning, the people he was meeting. He liked this place, and felt more at home than he had expected to.

“Thank you, both,” he said after finishing his drink. “For thi–” he hiccuped, then rolled his eyes at himself. Only drunks in movies did that, and he was neither of those things. “For tonight. I’m glad to have you both…” He hiccuped. “you both in my life.” Ryan screwed his mouth up a little. “Have either of you ridden a white horse? And if yes, tell me about it. If no, make up a st–” He hiccuped. “story.”

“What do you want to know about it?” Andrew asked, confused and intrigued. “Is this some weird California thing?"

"Wait, you actually rode a white horse?"

"Raised, trained, rode. I wasn’t allowed to have pets, or toys, or, you know, whatever normal kids have. But my horse – for polo – he was sort of my companion to make up for all of that.” There was a smile on his lips and light in his eyes for a moment, until some sad memory stole them away, and his voice grew a little softer. “Alan. Terrible name for such a beauty. He was white as starlight though, just… a very incredible animal… Why – do you ask?”

Ryan sat for a long, silent second, and then gave a smug, very pleased with himself smile. “Because hiccups are afraid of white horses. Thank you.”

Foggy stared at Ryan, completely lost, while Andrew just laughed and shook his head.

“Wait, wait, stop laughing. I thought Hiccup was the dragon? Why would he be scared of horses?"

"What? The dragon’s Tooth–”

“Shut up, Gale, no, Hiccup, he’s a dragon, I don’t get it. Ryan. Back me up here.”

Ryan raised his hands and shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what either of you are referring to. I mean actual hiccups. Those things I had that are now gone. Sorry, Foggy. Next time I’ll totally have your back.”

“Nooooooooo, you dick, I swear, he’s this little black dragon in a cartoon, he’s super cute and fierce and like, rawr!”

“Toothless?”

“Hiccup! Hiccup’s the dragon!” Foggy looked at them like they were little lost children.

Andrew bit his lip and grinned.

Ryan spared a conspiratorial glance with Andrew, and then held up his hands. “I’m… wait. I’m wrong. I’m sure. I think toothless was the name of the squire…”

“There was a squire? What squire? That pulled the sword out of the stone?"

"Okay, Foggy, you had two beers, are you okay?"

"Dude, I think I’ve just watched way, way too many cartoons. I accidentally did a parental lock thing on my own Netflix account and it was a few days before I could fix it, so all I could watch was kids’ movies and… yeah. It was… I’m all overloaded. Hey, Andrew, wanna take Ryan with you to Europe?"

Andrew hadn’t been expecting the question and he looked surprised, but got over it quickly enough and turned to Ryan. "If you want to come, I’d love company, I hate traveling alone when it’s not for work… but I’m not really – planning on going anywhere that’s a – very exciting scene. The first few nights won’t be bad, though; I’m flying into Paris and staying two nights, then moving on east… There’s an old castle I need to visit in Romania, but it’s… a pretty small town, not really any sort of night life… and then I’m going down to Montenegro."

"I used to think that place only existed in Bond movies.”

Ryan was laughing too hard, and then the laughter stopped. He was about to tell Andrew to please not feel obligated to accept, that he was going to see if Andrew wanted the company when it wouldn’t be implied that he was, perhaps, at all impaired by the drinks he’d consumed.

But all of that was cut off by Andrew quickly accepting.

“I… would enjoy that,” Ryan stated simply. “I don’t need a night life to be impressed and content. I’m not high maintenance at all. Just… decent company and a bed without spiders. That’s all I ask for.”

“No spiders, check. When do you have time off? I know you’re just on a vacation now, I don’t want to get you in any trouble with your employers…”

“I… is there wifi? Because my computer has autocad and I can work from just about anywhere. This week I just very specifically told them I wouldn’t be answering emails or calls. It’s pissed them off.”

“Not where I’m going… I’m not sure if there is any in the nearest town, but it might be worth a shot, if you wanted to split apart while I go to the castle… you could hang out in town? If you really want to go though, man, I’ll buy your tickets, that’s not a problem. I’ve just… spent years going on work trips, always alone, and having someone along… no strings attached, nothing, you know, no sordid expectations… it’d be nice.”

Ryan nodded. “I can figure out the work thing, I’m sure. The program doesn’t run on wifi. But the emails to be sent back and forth would. So I would just need to make a trip in to send out a few correspondences. And then I’m all yours. Or… I mean I would be free."

He smiled awkwardly and finished the second glass he hadn’t remembered being set in front of him. "But you’re serious about this? I… have only met you once before, at Matt’s, the day I came home from the hospital. You seem very sure that I’m not some hardened criminal.”

“I mean… you know what I am, right?” Andrew met Ryan’s eyes. “Whoever you are, Ryan, whatever you really want out of life… I’m not scared to get to know you. As long as you’re not afraid of me.”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Labels have been tossed around a lot this week. And I don’t think I care much either way.” He smiled softly and nodded. “Definitely not afraid.”

Andrew lit up. “Are you – seriously – you’ll really go with me? Thank you, man! Thank you!”

Ryan nodded. “I… yes. Really. If you’ll really have me as company. I’m too quiet and broody and don’t talk first thing in the mornings. But this sounds fun. And I would like to have something that’s just mine.”

“I don’t know what to say…” He looked down for a moment, then back at Ryan’s eyes. “Thank you. It means a lot that you’re willing to go. And if at any point you feel – weird or uncomfortable or homesick, whatever, no hard feelings, I’ll get you an early flight back.”

Ryan lifted a glass in salute and set it back down, realizing that it was empty. “Will either of you be gracing the stage again tonight?”

“Want another? And only if you’ve got another song request."

Foggy, however, didn’t answer, as he had fallen asleep.

Andrew poked him, then smiled. "I’m guessing he’s not going back up.”

“Yeah. Maybe we should get him back home. I’m good on drinks. Think a cab would be better than trying to guide him back to the train station?”

“Probably.” Andrew glanced over at the bartender, who nodded to him, so he turned back to Foggy and stood up, scooping Foggy up. “Come on, Fogmaster,” Andrew murmured softly, then nodded for Ryan to lead the way out.

—-

After making Foggy drink some water, Andrew tucked him into bed. “You sweet, sweet lightweight,” he whispered before kissing Foggy’s temple. “Sweet dreams…” He shut the door quietly, then came out to meet Ryan in the living room. “If you need a place to stay tonight…” He picked up his shirt and tie and draped them over his arm. “You’re more than welcome to come to my place. Which isn’t me trying to pick you up… I just… I don’t want you to feel like – a leftover. Because you’re not.”

Ryan nodded, and yawned. “Whatever the reason for your offer, I would appreciate the place to sleep. Thanks.”

He could tell he was getting tired. All sentences were coming out shorter and shorter. The need for explanations and long monologues had long since passed, and Ryan followed Andrew out the door.

“And thank you for tonight. I truly enjoyed myself.”

“Me, too.” Andrew smiled and stopped him in the hall. “Do something for me, okay? Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and just… relax.”

Ryan smirked. “Okay, but if this is how you hit on people, I think it could maybe use some work.”

Not really knowing what to expect, Ryan swayed some when they landed at Andrew’s place and his stomach rolled just a little, but he made it without throwing up.

“I make a point of not asking too many questions. But that was… kind of amazing.”

“Hey, we’re literally going to Transylvania because my predecessor wants me to do some… weird thing with our castle, so… better get used to the freaky vampire shit while you can, right?"

Andrew’s home was ridiculous. It was on the top floor, and was huge, wide open spaces, white marble floors, elegant decor. There were a few lamps lit, giving a soft gleam to the room, but the lights of the city could be seen beautifully through the exterior wall, which was all glass.

"Want some pajamas? And make yourself at home. I’ll take the couch, you can have the bed, it’s down here…” He headed down a short hall.

“There’s… I mean… if we’re going to be in small hotel rooms together or whatever else… There’s no need for you to take the couch unless you absolutely want to,” Ryan replied, the last couple words were spoken around a yawn.

“This place… I think even the Cohens would be impressed with it. It’s gorgeous here.” Ryan stood in the doorway to the room, leaning against the frame. “Thank you, again, for everything you’ve done for me and Seth this week. And I do know you’ve been involved a great deal more than perhaps you’ve let on. So, thank you. I’m glad I got to know you.”

“I’m glad, too.” Andrew smiled and kissed Ryan on the cheek, then slipped past him to get out pajamas. He left them on the bed for Ryan, then said, “I’m going to shower… I’ll be quick though, if you want to use it, too.” Ryan looked tired enough to just be curled up in bed and sleeping already, Andrew thought, so he wasn’t really expecting him to want to shower. Still, he was quick about it, and he put on his sleep pants in the bathroom, then came back out and crawled into bed and sighed happily as he slipped in between the sheets.

Ryan didn’t care enough about taking a shower. Though, considering he was sleeping in someone else’s bed, perhaps he should have. But by the time Andrew finished in the bathroom, Ryan was curled up in bed, only opening his eyes sleepily as Andrew slid in beside him.

“Hi,” he said, his voice thick with gravel. He cleared his throat and tried again. But the second time it only came out as a whisper. Ryan huffed and smiled, then scooted closer to Andrew. “Hi,” he finally managed.

“Hi.” Andrew smiled. Around the apartment, the lights turned off one by one, until only the gleam coming in from the glittering city illuminated the room. “I didn’t think you’d still be awake.” He tucked an arm under his pillow and wiggled around a bit to get more comfortable.

Ryan shook his head and buried himself under his pillow. “Not awake,” he grumbled. “Totally not awake.”

“Go to sleep, Ryan…” Andrew laughed quietly and easily, then turned around so his back was to the other, thinking that it might bother Ryan to feel he was being watched. He and his brother seem so… good. I hope they’ll be alright… I hope that, if there are any more tricks or traps from Elektra, they’ll still be safe… Somehow.

It didn’t take much before Ryan was fast asleep in the overly comfortable bed with a man who maybe smelled a little too good. He gravitated toward warmth in his sleep, and woke up pressed close to Andrew. When he opened his eyes, it took a second to adjust to his surroundings, which seemed to be different every morning, and then casually rolled back and stretched.

Andrew made a quiet little sound of protest when the warm body rolled away from him, but he woke a moment later. Demonstrating that he was, in fact, a grown adult, Andrew turned over to look at Ryan, then slunk down under the blankets. “You were so warm,” he protested, although he didn’t sound serious – and really wasn’t speaking that clearly, considering his head was under sheet, blanket, and a pillow.

Ryan smirked, pulled the blankets further over his head, and then used one leg to pull himself closer again. It wasn’t that he understood Andrew’s words of protest, so much as the sound of them. He quickly found his spot again, where it was the warmest in the bed, and hummed his reluctance to move from there ever again.

Eventually, Andrew stuck his head up. Thank God for Saturdays, he thought, and sighed in contentment. “You’re like a cat. Quiet, warm, nice, potentially a little scary… mostly non-verbal…” He reached over, found Ryan’s head, and scratched lightly behind his ear.

“You say that, but I’ve never been one to purr,” Ryan muttered, curling tighter into the blankets. He rolled a couple times, making sure to take the sheets with him. “But you’re right. Cats are dicks.”

“Aw man, yeah they are. Jerk.” Andrew snorted and pulled Ryan’s pillows away, making a nest of them around himself since he couldn’t have any other bedding, apparently. “Why, oh why didn’t I adopt a dog? Hindsight, man.”

“Hmm. Sorry. I think Matt got the puppy,” Ryan mumbled from deep within the blankets. “To be fair, though. I have a tendency to only like one person at a time and if you’re lucky you’ll wake up with my butt in your face.”

He laughed and buried his face in the pillows, then hopped up and stretched before wandering over to his closet. “I’m going to go work in the living room for a bit, but sleep in all you need, man.” Andrew slipped out of his pajamas and into jeans and a t-shirt, then wandered quietly out of the room, not wanting to bother Ryan any further, especially if he had a hangover.

When Andrew finished, he sent the completed files off, then went out onto the balcony to really enjoy the rain. It was coming down gently, with the clouds so low that they were brushing around some of the buildings. Up here, the air still tasted fresh and clean; he loved it.

Ryan hadn’t gone back to sleep, but he didn’t get out of bed either. He listened for a while as Andrew worked, thought about the night they’d all shared, and finally untangled himself from the sheet. He went and took a quick shower, made the bed, dressed, and finally walked out, only to find Andrew out on the balcony.

Ryan walked out, his back against the windows, fucking thankful he couldn’t see down below. “The weather is great today.”

“Gotta love that liquid sunshine..” He ran his hand over the stone bannister, soaked with rain, then turned back to Ryan. “How’s your head?” Andrew leaned on the doorframe, hands in his pockets, watching him.

“Oh, I feel fine. Hangovers stopped being something to brag about when I was in my early twenties. Now I typically keep it to two drinks, and I take my time with them.” His eyes turned to Andrew, meeting the others gaze, and his expression softened. “Thanks. For letting me crash here.”

He nodded. “Anytime. Company is always, always welcome… and I know you’ve sort of been – bounced around a little since you got here, so hopefully adding one more place wasn’t too… too much.” He looked out at the rain, then back at Ryan. “Can I ask what’s on your mind?”

“The heights,” Ryan answered a little sheepishly, glancing out again. I can’t see the ground, but I still know we’re up fucking high.“ He wasn’t asking to go in, just making an observation that if Andrew could hear his heart racing from over there, that was likely why.

"I tried to tell Seth I could just get a hotel, but before I ever could, everybody else has been nice enough to offer their homes. So, I really can’t complain.”

“Are you okay, though?” Andrew’s voice softened as he asked it, and he realized he wasn’t sure just what exactly he was worried about – just that he was. It felt like there was something permanently unsettled in Ryan, something strange and almost unfinished feeling under all his calm. No matter how cool or humorous demeanor, the thing was there – whatever it was. Andrew just hoped that he was misreading it, or even imagining it.

Ryan seemed to forget entirely about what rested beyond the balcony ledge, and he met Andrew’s gaze straight on. He smiled softly. “I am… I’m sorry that I’m not… overly talkative. I’ll happily tell you anything you want to know. I’m just… people aren’t typically interested in my backstory.” He didn’t mean for that to sound sad. He was okay with being quiet and keeping to himself. He had Seth. A few friends back home. A good job and a comfortable life. He had everything he’d never grown up with.

At first, Andrew was quiet. Then, with a little frown, he shook his head. “Man…” Stepping forward, he pulled Ryan into a hug. It was absolutely gentle, fueled by nothing but compassion. “I’ll pry later. When we’re laying on – some rooftop of Castle Dracula or something. I do care about your backstory. Who you are. Who you’ve been.” He rubbed a hand over Ryan’s back, the one movement saying love as clearly as it could ever be offered, then stepped away, giving him back his space.

“But you don’t need to be sorry for being quiet… I just… worry about people too much, I guess. You don’t need to talk if you’re not feeling it – all I want is to know that you’re okay… and if you’re ever not? Just… tell me whatever you need, okay? Even if it’s,” the brightness seemed to come back to his eyes, and his smile returned, “a one-word reply to an emotional moment. Like breakfast or coffee or whatever.”

“Hmm,” Ryan hummed, as if that itself was some kind of an answer. A playful smile tilted his lips and he seemed to relax completely. “Do you even keep stuff like that here? Cater to all the souls you lure up to your trap with your bright eyes and perfect smile?”

His grin broadened and he looked down, as if, for some reason, he needed to hide the expression. “I think I’m good for now, thank you.”

“Nope.” Andrew looked back out at the city as a few gulls swooped bye. “But there’s a really amazing diner at the corner that does deliveries, so… if you get hungry – I mean not that you have to stay, of course. If you want to take off or anything, just because I am a sucker for company doesn’t mean you have to be, especially with a relative stranger.”

“Was that a pun?”

He looked back over, eyes wide and confused. “What? No. Sorry, I’m sort of lame with the humor most of the time – still trying to figure that out.” Andrew flashed a quick but brilliant apologetic smile, then looked back at the rain.

Ryan laughed. “Sorry… Seth is… obsessed with puns. So I see them everywhere.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind staying for a while, if you’re sure you’re okay with it? I mean. We’re really not complete strangers. You did kiss me last night, after all.”

“True.” Andrew blushed, but he was smiling again. “It was a pretty good kiss, from what I remember… and I’m totally sure. As long as you want to be here, I’d really like you to be around.”

“It was a damn good kiss,” Ryan corrected, and then seemed to remember himself, and pink washed over his cheeks.

“Before this fog clears, I think I’m going to head inside. There’s no need for you to see me afraid of heights in all my glory.”

“Plus, if we keep standing here and blushing, we might burn the clouds off too quick.” Andrew grinned, then opened the door for Ryan and followed him in. “Is it okay to ask about the heights…?”

“Why I’m afraid of them? No idea. Irrational fear. Got on a Ferris wheel once to try to get a girl to go out with me. We got caught at the top. Pretty sure someone paid the guy off. I don’t know. They’ve always made me nervous.”

“You think someone paid him off to fuck with you? Or to give you guys privacy up there?” He shut and locked the door, then went over and perched on the back of a couch.

“Oh. The latter. I don’t think there was ill intent there.” Ryan rolled his neck and shoulders and then sat down on the couch, leaning enough on the arm that he could comfortably look at Andrew. “Am I keeping you from doing work?” He swallowed thickly and pushed back the thoughts that came to his mind. Then he huffed and looked again at Andrew. “So. I actually think I should be honest about something, particularly before you invite me to stay another night, and definitely before you invite me across the world with you. But I… find you attractive. And I’m not… I don’t want to find my… well, my Matt, like Seth did. I’m not looking. I don’t need… anyway. I don’t want to be the perverted asshole who never said the thing and ends up making you super uncomfortable later down the line.” He exhaled in a huff and then looked down at his hands.

Smooth, Ryan.

“I’m not – entirely sure what all of that meant? But what I think I understood is… you’re attracted to me, but you don’t want me to think that you’re – looking for a life partner right now, or that you want to have meaningless sex… You want me to be comfortable, and you want to know that you’re not abusing my trust or hospitality in any way… Is that – if I misunderstood, please tell me?"

As almost always, Andrew wasn’t mocking, but was entirely sincere.

"I think… hell, I don’t even know. I think what I was trying to say is that I find you attractive. And yes, I didn’t want to abuse your kindness or hospitality by… letting you undress in front of me without knowing. Or that maybe you’ll be afraid that I’m just jealous or looking for what Seth has, and I’m turning to the first kind person. Or… yes… what you said. I think is what I was trying to say.”

Andrew nodded. “That’s… really sweet of you to tell me. I appreciate it a lot. And honestly, I find you attractive too – and even if… you know, nothing sexual ends up happening between us, if you like looking, I don’t mind if you do…"

He hesitated for a moment, trying to think of how best to put it, then went on. "You don’t seem like someone who uses people. And even if you were using me, even if you were jealous or lonely or just – really wanting some kindness in your life, that you had no intention of keeping… honestly, that’s kind of okay, too. Nobody’s perfect. Ever. You don’t have to – be everything you are right away. If that makes sense. You don’t… need to bare your soul or anything for me to trust that you’re good. The trust is something I just give – you don’t have to prove that you deserve it.” He looked down at his hands. “Sorry if that was… an overly long answer. I should have just said thank you, huh?”

Though maybe it was a bit much more of an answer than he was expecting, Ryan appreciated it, and he seemed to relax with each word Andrew said.

“The way you replied was perfect,” he said, resting his head back. “And thanks, for being cool about it. But you don’t have to indulge me at all. I just didn’t want you to think I was… lurking, or something. And then find out about it in Paris and have to kick my ass out at the louvre.”

Andrew laughed and shook his head. “Honestly, trying not to flirt with you too much is probably going to be the problem for me.”

“…. You mean like saying if I’m lucky I’ll wake up with your butt in my face? Because I think that’s my line.” He smiled. “What I mean is, don’t stress about it. If I ever get uncomfortable, I��ll let you know.”

“Okay. And same goes. And hey, butts in faces aren’t always a bad thing.” He twitched an eyebrow and grinned, looking a little shameless for once.

“Indeed. Listen, you weren’t wrong. I am the worst kind of cat. I hog beds and invade personal space and demand attention if I’m particularly bored. Considered coming in here earlier and laying across your laptop while you were working. Just because.” Ryan’s eyes were light, and he had shifted even more to face Andrew, allowing himself to stare for a long, drawn out moment.

“Okay, but I love giving someone attention when they want it, and anytime I’m working from home? It’s not a time-crunch thing. I like my job, and it’s been my life for – way too long. So it’s what I know. It’s a habit. But babe, any time you want to distract me, you go right ahead.”

Ryan felt better after getting this bit of honesty out of the way. He didn’t like secrets or liars and besides. He figured if Andrew really was that interested, they could potentially have something casual over the duration of their trip.

“I’m going to go get my wallet, because I think I do want to try that cafe. And the weather is pleasant enough that I don’t mind getting out in it.” He stood and took a step, seeming as if he were going to slide in front of Andrew, but he stopped and leaned in to offer a soft and inviting kiss. When he pulled away, he smiled. “Yeah. I was right. Last night was a damn good kiss.” He followed it up with one more quick, almost chaste kiss, then disappeared off into the bedroom.

Fuck. It was all about the attitude, and Ryan had it. Ryan was going to be a problem. A very big, very serious problem, if Andrew wanted to even try to pretend at having any cool whatsoever. That guy was the definition of a fox.

#theveritasi #one shot #in the wake #part one

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