ev3n0tx

He’s so sweet.. Still very caring for his pregnant wife even though sleep’s still clinging to him. Maybe he’d also be very generous to go on an ice cream hunt for his pregnant wife even at this ungodly hour.

“..Kit.” You whisper. His eyes opens slightly, lifting his head from his pillow. “Somethin’ wrong, honey?” He asks, his voice raspy as his gaze travels over you to make sure that nothing’s wrong. You turn your head to look at him in the eyes. “I’m craving ice cream.” He blinks at your response. “Right now..?” He asks. “The baby does.” You reply, convincing him that the baby has decided that ice cream at this time of the night is a necessity.

Light’s now on and you’re sitting on the bed, watching Kit putting on his work jacket over his pajamas. He’s getting ready for the late night ice cream hunt for his pregnant wife. You then slowly stood up, walking to him. “Kit, I can come with you.” You suggest as you suddenly feel bad for sending your husband out at this time of the night just for ice cream. Kit turns his head to look at you, he shakes his head with a small reassuring smile on his lips. He places a hand on the small of your back as he passes by you to grab his car keys on the nightstand. “Not happenin’, honey.” 

You frown at his response. “I feel bad..” It’s that pregnancy moodswing suddenly kicking in. “Why?” He asks. “Well, I’m sending you out at this time of the night because of a random craving.” You added as you continue to watch him move around. He just let out a chuckle at that. “That’s kinda how this works.” 

Your brows were still a bit furrowed but a small smile appears on your lips because of how understanding he is. Every day, in ways both big and small, he always makes you feel how lucky you are.

“Now get back under those covers, I’ll be back before you know it.” He makes his way to guide you to the bed, but you stop him. “Can I wait for you in the living room instead?” He nods with a smile as he starts to guide you to the living room. “Wherever my wife’s comfortable.”

He sat you down on the couch before rushing back to the bedroom. When he came back, he was carrying your blanket. Without a word, he drapes it gently over your shoulders. “Drive safely, honey.” you remind him. “Yes, ma’am.” He replies before giving your lips a quick peck. 

With that, he exited the house and made his way to his truck while lighting a cigarette. “Gotta fulfill my husband duties.” He speaks to himself, a fond smile on his lips as he starts the engine.

The drive to the nearest all-night diner was peaceful. Now he’s out of his truck, heading to the door of the diner with an ‘open’ neon sign attached to it. The bell above the door chimes when Kit walks in, informing the half asleep staff that someone had come in.

“What can I get ya, buddy?” The staff asks, rubbing his eyes. “Just some ice cream in a tub.” Kit spoke, taking out his wallet. “You drivin’ around this hour just for a tub of ice cream?” The staff chuckles, making his way to grab a tub of ice cream. Kit shakes his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Pregnant wife emergency, buddy.”

When he finally got the ice cream, he drove home with a small proud smile on his lips. He completed one of the most random missions he gotta do as a husband with a pregnant wife. He then finally arrives, he parks his truck and makes his way to the door of the house.

“I’m back, honey!” He announces as he throws his keys on the kitchen counter and makes his way to grab a spoon for you. 

"Kit?"

“Yeah, honey?” He asks as he starts to make his way to you.

“I want strawberries on them.”

Kit froze. Oof, looks like his mission is not finished yet. He then lets out an amused chuckle at that. He’s already tired but he’s committed.“Anythin’ else?” He asks, making his way back to the kitchen. “Maybe a drizzle of honey?” He felt like the baby’s gonna be that type of baby that has lots of requests once it leaves your womb. “Got it, chef.”

“This baby is making me a whole culinary project at 3am.” He mumbles to himself while slicing strawberries. However, this whole thing is amusing him rather than pissing him off.

After finishing your request, he makes his way to you, sitting beside you while carefully holding a bowl of scooped ice cream topped with strawberries and a light drizzle of honey. “Custom order for Mrs. Walker.” He takes a scoop and brings it close to your lips. Proof that he’s never too tired to take care of his wife.

You married the right man.

likes/reblogs/comments are very much appreciated! 🫶

it took nearly an hour of him pouting and promising you whatever fried food you wanted to get you to agree to the county fair. usually, you’d rather spend your saturday night anywhere else, but colin had been pulling double shifts for two weeks straight. seeing him look that hopeful was your weakness.

the real motivator, though, was the change of clothes. seeing him swap the stiff detective slacks for a dark flannel and beat-up jeans was enough to make you say yes. It was a simple fit, yes—but fuck—you were already mentally counting down the hours until you could get him home and out of them.

the fair was loud and smelled like grease, but colin was in his element. you stood by a milk bottle knockdown stand, watching him focus with an intensity he usually reserved for a crime scene. he had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and it was a little embarrassing how much the sight of his forearms was doing for you.

"you gonna stare 'em down or throw the ball, colin?" you teased, watching.

he didn't even look at you, his eyes locked on the target. "hush. m’busy, verrryyy focused right now..”

he wound up, threw the ball, and watched the last bottle tumble.

"fuck yeah! woo!" he shouted, throwing both hands in the air with a huge, dorky grin. “did you see that? holy shit, that was like—“ he was mid-celebration when he caught the wide-eyed look of a little girl and her mom standing right next to him.

"oh, god. m’sorry. so sorry. excuse my mouth, ma'am." he mumbled, shrinking back and clearing his throat as he turned to you, his gaze going to the wall of stuffed toys, then returning. "uh. pick a prize. any of 'em. i'm on a roll."

you laughed, pointing at a giant, slightly ugly stuffed sloth hanging from the top rack. "that one, definitely."

colin thanked the carnie as they handed it over, and you tucked the oversized plush under your arm. "i can carry that for you, y’know." colin offered, reaching for it.

"nope," you popped the 'p', hugging the sloth tighter. "I’ve got it, this is my trophy," you teased, stepping out of reach. "it stays with me." colin didn't argue, instead his shoulders finally looking a bit less tense as he watched you struggle with the bulk of the toy. his eyes already drifting toward a nearby stand with “funnel cakes” painted in bright, block letters across the top.

as the sun went down, the midway got darker and the neon lights started buzzing. colin led you toward the edge of the fairgrounds, away from the screaming kids and the smell of manure. he instinctively had to stoop down a bit as you wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss him, his hands resting on your waist.

his kisses were sweet, literally, tasting like the powdered sugar from the funnel cake you’d shared, but they were too polite. you broke the kiss, huffing a little. "colin."

"mm?" he hummed, sounding a little dazed. "your hands." you say as you grabbed his wrists and dragged them down, planting his palms firmly over the curve of your ass. "put—keep them here. and squeeze, please." your internal monologue a mess of frustration that he was still being so careful with you.

he let out a shaky breath, his eyes darting toward the crowds a few yards away, "colin," you laughed, catching the quick reaction. "we’ve been married for two years. i promise the operator doesn't care if you touch your wife."

he let out a embarrassed laugh, finally relaxing his grip and pulling you flush against his chest. "right. sorry. just... you look really good tonight," he whispered, his voice dropping into that lower, more vulnerable register you loved. "like, really good."

“thank you," you murmured, a small, tight-lipped smile playing on your face as you looked up at him. the heat in your chest was getting harder to ignore, especially with the way he was looking at you now.

colin leaned in, giving you one last quick peck on the lips and another on your cheek, the scruff of his jaw grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver. he pulled back just an inch, a playful glint in his eyes that usually only came out when he’d had enough sleep.

"c'mon," he murmured, "let's go on the zipper."

your stomach dropped—not in the good way. you felt your eyes widen, your entire face going flat with immediate, genuine dread as you looked at the neon-lit cages flipping people upside down in the distance.

colin caught your expression and his composure broke instantly. he let out a surprised huff of breath that turned into a full-on laugh. "i'm kidding— i'm kidding," he wheezed, "your face—god, i wish i had a camera. ‘not trying to die tonight either, i promise."

he was still laughing, a genuine, breathless sound that made his eyes crinkle at the corners, those tired lines finally looking soft instead of stressed. he shoved his hands back into his jeans pockets, his head ducked a little as he tried to catch his breath.

you pinched the bridge of your nose, letting out a long, dramatic sigh as the laughter finally started to die down in his chest. "i hate you so much," you mumbled, though the small smile still tugging at your mouth gave you away.

Instead, he steered you toward the much slower, much safer glow of the ferris wheel instead, still chuckling under his breath. "let's just do the wheel. nice and easyyy..”

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who is a complete and total tease. Not just in the "flex his arm while you're trying not to stare" way, but also in the" tickling you until you admit you're his" way. He lives to see you blush and stumble on your words.

"C'mon, say it!" "I'm not gonna say it!" "I won't stop until ya' do~! Cmon, who's my Mrs Darling?" "I am, I am, gosh, just quit!"

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who is a SUCKER for women who can cook. Freakshow and diner food is usually greasy and quick, so don't be surprised if he gulps down half of the stew you've spent all morning on. He doesn't expect you to cook, but it's an added bonus if you can.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who would need to date someone who's at minimum odd. He can have flings with city girls and waitresses all he wants, but a long term commitment needs a good base. You both need to be able to relate in some way. It doesn't have to be big, you don't have to be a "freak" as well. Weird obsession with bugs? You know what, fuck yeah. Contortionist, tightrope walker, corde lisse specialist, impressionist? Hell yeah! Even just some girl obsessed with odd things who sells snacks at the show will work. His person also needs to be touring with the show. Again, they don't have to be a "freak", but it's hard for him to get long term with someone he can only send letters and calls to.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who drags you into his trailer after each show. It's a lucky day for you if you don't end up with all his weight piled on top of you, cuddling you to death. It gets to a point that you two just share the trailer.

"Jimmy! You're crushing me!" "I don't weigh that much! You'll live. I'm exhausted." "Jimmy!"

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who can and will brag about you at any point. To guests, to his mom, to the other acts, to anyone. He's a lover boy.

"And if you'd like some refreshments, folks, go see my favorite charming girl who's running our drink stand tonight!"

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who will find you when he wants you. You could be talking with one of the other acts and - poof, you're being picked up by a pair of familiar sun-kissed hands. You might even get spun a few times.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who still very much gets stage fright, and very much practices on you. It gets to the point that it's annoying. Usually, Jimmy can't annoy you, but hearing the same short routine makes you huff out a: "yes, Jimmy, that was great. Like the last four times."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who, inversely, helps you with your stage fright. If you're an act or maybe just some type of announcer, he's still there to help. He'll even hype you up if you're shy and doing something like selling popcorn.

"You'll do great, toots, customers are gonna love you just as much as I do! You'll charm them to no end, I might have to tussle with a few of 'em."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who isn't much into the idea of traditional proposing, just because it never really comes up. Once you two have been together for long enough, he just starts referring to you as his wife. No need for papers or a big wedding - much to Elsa's dissatisfaction.

"Oh, her? Oh, yeah, she's a catch, but she's off the market. Yep, that's my girl right there - Mrs. Darling."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who, once while you two explored a mall near where they had a show, bought you a lobster plush. It was really cheap and kinda ugly, but it started this trend of him trying to find something lobster themed in every new town you guys visit. Your trailer is overrun with lobster things, especially plushies.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who spends as much time as possible exploring new towns with you. He loves taking you to shops and diners and movies, with his gloves on, of course. Without fail he'll plan some type of date, even if it's just walking about the show grounds.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who's not a ladies man in the traditional sense. He messes around a lot, but it's not just for sex. He falls fast and he falls hard and he falls easily. He's more of a hopeless romantic than anything. He doesn't like saying goodbyes and having short relationships, he wants something strong that lasts.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who is very, very easy to distract. A single kiss on the cheek, a small wave when you walk by, a blown kiss from across the stage, and a little note you slip into his pocket can all lead to him wandering to you - ready to spoil you to no end.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who loves seeing you in his clothes. His T-shirts are his favorite to give you, especially when you pair them with a pair of his boxers or a pair of your underwear. He also loves to put you in his leather jacket, just because it's so his.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who'd never yell at you. Part because he respects you, part because he saw the way you bit your finger when he yelled at Elsa and he'd prefer to finish an argument rather than get into...that.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who has, and will continue, to sing for you. He knows you like his voice, and he'll use that to get some brownie points. Even when he runs out of songs, he'll start making up stuff.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who's a stubborn bastard. You need a saint's patience to deal with this boy, but it's worth it. Jimmy needs someone who won't pull the "I told you so" card on him.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who doesn't let his dad near you.

"Dell, don't you even fucking look at her. That girl is my goddamn world and if you even look in her direction for more than a second I'll haul your ass three states away and leave you in a river, you fucking hear me?"

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who you've come to learn is a cryer. He cries when he's scared, he cries when he's angry, he cries when he's really happy, he cries a ton when he's drunk, he cries when he thinks about the future - both good and bad, and he cries when he thinks about you [happy tears, I swear.]

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who lets you patch up his clothes and gloves if needed. Even if your patchwork isn't the greatest, he loves it. It's a reminder of you everywhere he goes.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling whose nicknames for you are the usual ones: doll, dollface, toots, sugar, sweetness, pretty girl, honey, darlin'. Occasionally he'll call you his minx or his Mrs. Darling, but he also sticks to your name pretty often. He tends to get more nickname-y when you guys are being sappy or flirty. Also he's definitely called you sugar tits before and you hated it.

"Can you hand me that wrench, sugar tits?" "Yeah, I- wait, ew, what the hell did you just call me??" "Sugar tits, I heard it in a bar." "Eww! Never do that again! How would you like it if I called you sweet nuts or something? It's weird!" "Yeah I can't argue with that."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who teaches you how to hunt. He's not great at much, but he's good at hunting and he'd like to share that with you.

"Hey, sweetness, no, no, don't cry, it's just a rabbit. It's just a rabbit!" "I killed a bunny!" "No- well, yeah, you did, but that's just the circle of life, sweetness."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who babbles when he's drunk. Jimmy is a lover though and through, and it comes out more when he's drunk. He's also insecure when he's drunk.

"Mmm, I love you. You're so pretty and fun and I love you..." "I love you too, Jimmy, but how much did you drink?" "I don't know, I didn't count. I missed you...why weren't you there?" "I was there, sweetie, I was just talking to a friend." "..." "Jimmy?" "Are you gonna leave me cause I'm a freak? I'm a freak and people hate freaks and you're gonna leave me..." "Jimmy! Where's this coming from?" "I love you..."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who sees you all dolled-up for the first time and lets his jaw go slack. There was some event Elsa had sent you two on where you had to dress classier. Jimmy wore some old plain suit, but Elsa had made you get your hair and makeup done. Your makeup is nice, not gaudy like stage makeup, and your hair is all nice and styled. And that dress is going to kill him.

"My God, toots, you're gonna knock me dead." "Shucks, Jimmy, you look amazing." "I look stupid." "Well I feel stupid, to be fair." "You're making me stupid, toots, how about after this we get real stupid and-" "Will you two shut up!?"

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who makes sure to turn up the radio on your favorite songs. He's a lover through and through. This man makes sure to memorize you like a book - all in the name of love. When breakfast is going and you're cooking or eating, he's always beside you, playing with the radio until he finds the station that makes you smile the most. Some nights he stays up next to a radio, hurriedly writing down the lyrics to your favorite songs so he can perform them later.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who hates seeing you cry. There's a lot of things to be down about in this world, but he'll try and help you see the best. If the usual rubbing your back and reassuring you doesn't work, then he'll grab some of his props and do an impromptu comedy act for you. Most of the time you both end up laughing until you can't remember why you were crying in the first place.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who's sickeningly sweet, and the whole troop knows it. You two are always touching or talking or just existing next to each other. You run to each other first if you're separated. As the murders ramp up, he makes sure to have you at his side at all times. His mom was extremely familiar with you - and yes, she liked you. You're good for Jimmy. Elsa likes you too, not just because you're an employee but also because Jimmy is a bit less argumentative when you're around. Jimmy Darling is a man shaped by emotion - and by extension, love. He loves with his whole body, and everyone can see that. He's got his faults and he knows it, but he'll do his best - that's all he can do.

-------------------- NSFW: MDNI! --------------------

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who treats you so much differently than the ladies at the Tupperware parties. He still goes, just to have the money, but he doesn't enjoy it much anymore - not when he has you. With them, everything he does is flavored with a sense of transactionalism. With you, it's more soft. More intimate. He's actually hesitant to use his hands during sex with you.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who, again, is nothing if not a tease. He loves dumb-talking you, making you melt into his sheets and whine all night. He's ruthless, but he'd never hurt you.

"That's my girl, all stupid when I'm in you. Are you liking that? Your face is all red. You're enjoying this, huh, stupid girl?"

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who's a perfect mix of praise and degradation. He loves calling you pretty, he loves calling you his, but he'll also sneak in a small remark here and there.

"There she is, that's my pretty girl. That's it, look in that mirror and see how good of a slut you are."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who's a dom most of the time, usually on the softer side. But he won't mind letting you take the reigns, especially if he's tired or drunk.

"Someone's feisty tonight. Think you can handle being on top? I'll let you try, dollface, but don't tire yourself out."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who is never not dirty talking or chuckling or something along that line. The only time he's quiet is if you two are having a quickie and you need to be quiet.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who's all praise if you're having a bad day. He knows when something is crossing a line, and again, he'd never do anything to hurt you.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who has, many a time, found himself setting up for apology sex. Maybe he let a customer flirt with him for too long or he made a comment a little too old fashioned, but you had gotten upset at him. So he does what he knows best. Apology sex may include anything cheesy, such as: rose petals, dumb music, him singing, candles, chocolate, some sad looking plush, and a very, very pouty Jimmy.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who is an avid panty thief. When you two are getting down and dirty, it's not a shock to have him stuff your underwear in his back pocket for later.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who is a total cuddler after. The moment you both hit your release, he's crumpling on top of you and taking a nap.

"Jimmy, Jimmy, I gotta go piss. Wake up!" "Mm, fine but hurry."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who can and will use his size and strength to his advantage. Circus work keeps him in great shape, and he'll make sure you get the perks too.

"You like that? Oh, I know you do. Gets ya' sopping when I hold you against the wall like this."

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who's not risking any pregnancies. If he doesn't have condoms, then he's pulling out as fast as possible. He's not risking having a baby in the freak show.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who has an extremely rampant sex drive. Man's got nothing to do but perform and do chores, so he'll take his free time to please his girl.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who gives and takes equally. If you blow him, he'll eat it until you're begging him to stop. And he would like the same vise-versa.

☆ BF! Jimmy Darling who is a sucker for lap dances. And pole dancing. Anything showy will get him on you like a dog.

"Woah, girl, someone's excited. Yeah, keep moving for me, just like that. Show me exactly how much you want me."

🧤°•𖤐🎡⊹₊🚲🎪⋆.

GAHHH I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS MY FIRST JIMMY DARLING POST 😭 I have only 4 episodes left of Freakshow I'm gonna cry it's such a fun ride. It's my first AHS season so idk which one I'll do next, either hotel or asylum. Also I have another jimmy post planned 😈 Anyway ☝️☝️ here's a song I thought fit Jimmy in the romantic 😈 sense 👇

the song starts out low—soft, scratchy through peter’s ancient record player, like it’s been dragged through time a few extra decades just to land here.

you’re half-paying attention at first, flipping through a comic peter let you borrow, legs tossed over his lap while he sprawls sideways across the couch.

then..

rhiannon rings like a bell through the night…

your thumb stops mid-flip. “…wait,” you murmur.

peter hums along, off-key but committed, tapping your ankle absentmindedly. “mm?”

“..that name..”

“huh?” he glances over, distracted, still half in the song.

“rhiannon..”

“…yeah?” he says, like he’s trying to figure out the problem.

you stare at the page, but you’re not seeing it anymore. “…that’s a really nice name.”

peter squints at you a little. “m’kay…”

“no, no, like—” you shift, sitting up just slightly. “It’s really nice.”

“…you good?” he asks, brow slightly furrowed.

you hesitate. that alone is enough to make him pay attention now. “I dunno,” you mutter. he nudges your leg. “uh-huh,”

you sigh, dropping the comic onto your stomach. “I just—fuck, this is gonna sound stupid.”

“c’mon, hit me babe.” he murmurs.

you rub your face. “…it sounds like a girls name.”

peter huffs a quiet breath. “well. yeah—”

you shoot him a look. “not helpful,”

“okay, okay—my bad, keep going, y’just gotta be a little more specific.”

you hesitate again, then just push through it. “It sounds like a little girl’s name.”

he goes quiet for a second, “…anddd?” he prompts.

you exhale slowly, already irritated. “and I don’t even like kids. I’ve never liked kids. you know that.”

“yeah,” he says. “I know.”

“I don’t want them. not now, not later, not ‘maybe someday,’ none of it.”

“got it, babe.”

you drag a hand through your hair, already wound up. “..so why the hell did my brain just go ‘oh, that’d be cute’? Like—where did that even come from?” peter shifts under you, sitting up more a bit. “…you thought that?” he asks, more focused now.

“yes,” you snap. “for like half a second, but it was there, and now I can’t unthink it and it’s pissing me off.”

he exhales through his nose, glancing off to the side like he’s trying to line up what to say. “…what’d she look like?” he asks.

“why does that matter?” you quickly reply.

“because, it does,” he says, a little firmer. “you don’t get this all worked up over nothing.”

you stare at him for a second, then look away.

“…small, of course.” you admit. “runnin’ around.”

his mouth twitches. “fast?”

you give him a flat look. “…obviously.”

“hell yeah,” he mutters under his breath, almost automatic, then catches himself and clears his throat. “continue?”

you stifle a small laugh, but keep going. “she was loud. laughing. like—really laughing.”

he nods once, like he’s actually picturing it.

you shake your head, “and, it didn’t annoy me. that’s the problem.” peter leans back slightly, “…okay,” he says, slower. “sooo, you had one thought that didn’t suck.”

“peter, that’s not how this works,” you fire back. “I don’t do ‘one thought.’ It’s always been a no.”

“it’s alright, people change their minds all the time,” he says.

you press your lips together in a line, energy buzzing under your skin. “It’s just—what if that means something?” you say. “what if this turns into a whole thing and suddenly I’m— I don’t know—rethinking everything and—”

“hey,”

you don’t stop. “—and I don’t wanna rethink everything, I was fine with how it was and now it’s like my brain just—”

“y/n,” he says again,

you keep going anyway. “—threw this at me and now I can’t just ignore it because it didn’t feel bad and that’s—”

his hands catch your arms—not rough, just enough to snap you out of it. “jeez—breathe for a second,” he says.

“I am breathing—”

“no, you’re not—fuckin’ liar.” he muttered, no real bite to it. “you’re spiraling, like, crazy, and y’know that freaks me out.” he continued, direct. you open your mouth to argue and he leans in, kissing you.

It’s quick at first, more of an interruption than anything, but it works. your words cut off mid-sentence, the momentum breaking just enough for your brain to stumble.

you pull back slightly, frowning. “pete—” he kisses you again, slower this time.

“peter, quit it—” you try, turning your head a little, but he follows, one hand sliding up to your jaw, not forcing, just steady.

“your overthinkinggg,” he murmured against your mouth before kissing you again.

you let out a frustrated huff that melts halfway into it, “I’m serious,” you mumble, but it comes out weaker now.

“you always are.” he says, softer this time, not letting go.

there’s a beat where you just sit there, your hands half-raised like you’re not sure whether to push him away or grab onto him. “…it doesn’t mean you have to decide anything right now,” he adds, quieter.

you don’t respond immediately. “…I don’t like it,” you admit.

“I know,” he muttered, giving a quick kiss to your cheek.

“feels like I’m losing my mind over one stupid name.” you continue. his thumb brushed lightly along your jaw as you spoke. “…it’s not that stupid if it got you like this.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite behind it.

“…rhiannons still a good name,” you mutter.

“for sure,”

you glance up at him. “…you’d actually want that?”

he hesitates—but not in a dodging way. just thinking.

“…eventually?” he says. “I think I would.”

your stomach flips, just a little. “…we’re not having a kid,” you say quickly.

“kay,” he answers just as fast.

you narrow your eyes. “that was.. too easy.”

he sighs, one corner of his mouth pulling up. “y’want me to argue with you right now? that’ll go great.”

“…no.”

“ ‘didn’t think so.”

dear, ms. armiah,

we received your concerns about the recent launch and appreciate you reaching out directly. encom's leadership team has been closely monitoring the situation and–

you look up mid-sentence to see the elevator doors opening. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, everyone's gone home by now, who's coming into work at... nine? ten pm?

you stand up and step out of your desk.

"eve?" you say in confusion as eve comes out of the elevator with seth and... him? it? and your eyes widen even more.

"hi, god– uh- y/n, this is–" she starts.

"ares," you finish, "why is– ares here?"

"you know ares?" eve eyes you suspiciously.

"i–" you shrug, "uh- read it in a file," you mumble.

"two minutes, fifty seconds," ares reminds from the back.

"right," eve shakes her head, "right, seth, can you work with that?"

"yeah- yeah- yeah," seth nods, "don't need help, guys."

seth begins to set up the particle laser in a hurry as eve speaks in hushed tones to ares about the permanence code and flynn's grid– what was going on?

"eve- what-" you gesture towards seth.

eve turns to you, "uhh– in a nutshell, dillinger kidnapped me, tried to kill me for the peremenance code, i teamed up with his ai program, and we have–"

"–one minute–" ares says.

"–one minute, to get ares in flynn's grid from the 80's so he can get the code, before–"

"–eve, we're all set," seth interrupts.

she turns away from you, "okay, all set!"

ares stands in front of the particle laser as seth and eve finalize final details. but you can't focus on what they're saying, dillinger, kidnapped, tried to kill? her words spin in your head, your stomach drops.

'i'd never hurt anyone.' bullshit.

you drag your hands over your face until you hear panicked voices.

"athena, she's here," ares announces.

"seth, the laser!" she calls out, you turn around to see seth's fingers speeding over the keyboard.

you look out the window, "what the fuc-"

a woman, athena, glowing red, hovering on a jetpack– thing– doesn't matter, stares you down. a program, like ares.

"firing up the laser," seth looks up in concern, "what's she doing?"

"she's waiting for me to timeout so she can come for you," ares states.

"ares, move in front of the laser!" eve yells.

"change of plans," he shakes his head, moving to jump at her.

at the same time, he's sucked into the new grid. athena stays. watching.

then she flies up and disappears.

"wow, that worked," seth exclaims.

the old retro computer blinks, transfer complete.

you’ve never been so confused about what’s happening. your eyes dart between the two of them, then to the suspiciously empty space beyond the window.

"he's inside," eve nods.

everyone tenses as the whirling of a jetpack speeds towards the glass.

"move!" eve shouts, you don't have to be told twice.

you run towards the right, following eve behind a desk as glass shatters and furniture crashes around you.

"jesus christ," you whisper.

athena steps through the ruined office slowly then slices through the particle laser, rendering it useless. beside you, eve yelps. you don’t breathe as athena walks towards you both.

"shit," you curse, fear crawling up your stomach.

"time to get back to the grid," athena says as she powers her own particle laser gun.

suddenly, seth jumps in front of her, "leave her alone!"

but athena shoves him, his body falling like a ragdoll against the floor of the other side of the room. your eyes widen, as you glance at him. unconscious or maybe...

no. focus.

you tell yourself as you get up and crawl with eve, avoiding the female program. you need to do something. you take a deep breath, you stand up and spread your arms out. shielding eve.

"don't touch her," you say.

athena turns to you, stiff. calculated. she tilts her head, eyes narrowing at you.

“y/n. the head of operating and corporate partnership of encom.” she notes. “neutral, not to be hurt.”

she pushes you to the side, not enough to hurt but enough to get you out of the way. it’s careless— like a sliding chair in her path.

if you weren’t neutral, she wouldn’t have hesitated at all.

you glance at eve, her eyes meet yours before looking away.

your breath catches as athena moves closer, eve sprints and crawls under the rows of arcade games which athena knocks over like it weighs nothing.

what is this? terminator?

then, eve is corned. you hold your breath, not sure whether to run between them or not.

“you’re very persistent, eve,” she states coldly before pointing her particle gun at eve.

but before the lasers can turn on, the sprinklers activate, water falling overhead, drenching your clothes like rain.

athena freezes, staring at her hand in… confusion.

then she screams as she crumbles away in dust particles. timed out. thank god.

you finally feel like you can breathe again. you rush over to eve, helping her up. “are you okay?”

“seth—“ she shakes her head, running to his unconscious body. she runs over to shake his shoulders, thankfully, his eyes open. you both sigh in relief.

“she’s going to come back,” you mutter.

“we need to fix the laser,” eve says suddenly.

“what?” you and seth say at the same time.

“we need to bring ares back here and we can’t do that unless we fix the laser,” she explains, running her hand a through her hair as she crouches down next to it.

the elevator opens, ajay and erin freeze, “what happened to our office?” ajay blinks at the state of the place.

“no time to explain,” she huffs, “look, if the dillingers transported me into their server by reversing the direction of a particle laser—“

“—then you can reverse this one to get ares out.” you finish.

“what are you talking about?” ajay walks towards where seth and eve are attempting to fix the laser. “that’s impossible.”

“ajay, i’ve been kidnapped, transported into a complex world, an ai literally tried to kill me and she destroyed our office.”

“ok,” ajay cups his mouth in thought, “and we need to fix this because—“

“—dillinger’s rogue program is stuck inside flynn’s grid.” eve finishes.

“this is insane.”

you nod in agreement.

“so, you’re telling me, we need to reverse the particle laser to retrieve dillinger’s rogue program while dillinger’s other program that tried to attack you, is coming to get you?” erin crosses her arms. “exactly how did she try to attack you?”

“well, she threw seth and tried to shoot a particle gun at me— but- but, she spared you,” eve turns her head to you. suddenly, everyone’s eyes are on you now.

“she didn’t… spare me-“ you try to explain, laughing awkwardly.

“she marked you as neutral,” eve recalls.

“why would she do that?” ajay frowns, “she wouldn’t have done that unless—“

“—unless dillinger marked you.” erin stares at you accusingly.

“did you know about this?” ajay demands.

“no!” you argue, “i mean— some of it, but not all of it!”

he shakes his head in disbelief, “have you been telling him stuff?”

“i would never do that-“

“oh my god, that’s why you’re always gone,” erin gasps.

“no— well, yes, but i haven’t betrayed encom. i just- knew about ares, that’s all—“

“did you know he would hack our server?” ajay’s eyes narrow at you in suspicious.

“guys, c’mon, we have more important things to deal with,” you mutter impatiently, nails digging into your arms.

“answer the question,” he snaps.

you roll your eyes, “i didn’t know he’d do that, i just…”

“just?”

“may have accidentally implied that we found the permanence code.”

“jesus christ,” erin whispers.

there’s a silence, seth doesn’t look up from where he’s attempting to retire the particle laser.

“get out,” ajay says after a while.

“what?”

“get out, we can’t risk having a mole right now.”

the words cut you like a knife, your arms tighten around you. “you can’t be serious right now, ajay. eve?”

“even if this isn’t your fault, we can’t trust you right now. let’s— make things easier, we’ll talk about this when it’s over. but for now,” she pauses, meeting your eyes. “you should go.”

you huff, looking at all of them, everyone’s expression’s are a mix of hurt and confusion. you don’t have anything to say to them, and so you leave. slowly walking out of the office and going down the elevator.

when you reach the lobby, your hand trembles as it reaches for your phone in your pocket. you take a deep breath as you walk out onto the street, dialing his number like a reflex. you exhale as you click the green call button.

“hello?” he answers, his voice tight and upset. “y/n, i really don’t have time for this—“

“oh yeah, because you’re too busy kidnapping my ceo and using your program destroy encom hq? what the hell is wrong with you? you said you’d never hurt anyone, julian. what is your problem?” you rant, running your fingers through your hair.

“i—“

“no, no- listen to me,” you don’t let him speak, “i’m getting fired for what we did, okay? and i find out that you’ve been— i dunno, going fucking insane and setting off all this crazy shit for a permanence code? you need to stop, you’ve gone way too far-“

you pause, hearing labored breaths on the understand. then a sob.

no.

he’s not crying? he never cries—

you freeze, your voice revealing your concern, “julian?”

“i— fuck-“ he gasps, breaths shuddering. “are you okay? are you safe?”

“julian, what happened?”

julian seems to try to control his breaths, “you need to- get out of the city— okay? it’s not safe, not when— not when athena’s- god.” his voice breaks, “i told— i programmed them to not hurt you, but- you could get hurt- and i can’t have you get hurt too— okay?”

“julian,” you say more sternly, “what happened?”

“my mom—“ he inhales again, sharper, “athena— she-“

“oh god, julian,” you sigh. “are you okay? do i need to come—“

“no,” he interrupts sharply. “you don’t understand, you need to leave the city. you’re going to get hurt.”

“julian-“

“get in your car and drive out of the state or— as far as you can go, okay?”

“julian,” you shake your head, “they’re going to come after you.”

“i know. trust me, i know,” he says solemnly. “i just need to know you’re safe. please— just do this for me. i’ll call you, if— if i can. i’ll call you.”

you’re about to protest but then you see a red glow in the far distance, your eyebrows furrow and your eyes squint. “is that a fucking recognizer? from— from, space paranoids?”

julian’s breath hitches, “baby, you need to go. please, i need to know you’re safe.” he takes a deep breath, "don't hang up until you get into your car."

and for the first time, you find yourself listening to him.

"i'm in my car."

"okay, okay..." he pauses, "okay, now get the hell out of here, i'll... figure it out, don't worry about me."

how can you be anything but?

you don't even have anything to feel guilty about it anymore. not a company, not a title, a role. just him.

"julian-"

"go, drive. please."

and you hear that soft bleeps that he's hung up.

so you press your foot against the accelerator, watching the red light get farther and farther away. you bite your lip, clicking on the radio, anything to distract you from whatever the hell is going on.

all of this for a stupid fucking code.

the leather of the handle seems to dig into your skin as the buildings blur behind you. only now does it seem like people have notice the giant battleship rapidly approaching the city.

the radio crackles uselessly, voices blurring together, you don't hear any of it. you're supposed to leave. you're leaving. it's what he wants.

but the turn signal clicks on anyway.

you barely notice it until the car is already slowing, your chest tight, breath shallow, heart beating like it's trying to argue with you. he needs you.

"fuck," you mumble, more to yourself than anything else.

you swing the car around, the red light growing brighter instead of fading. whatever he's about to do, you're not letting him face it without you.

not like this.

note: thank you for reading again and sticking through all my writer's block. i have a feeling the next part's going to be shorter, but anyway, i hope you guys enjoyed :)

The air inside was warmer than outside. Thicker. It smelled faintly like plastic wrap, old carpet, and something aggressively artificial. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flattening everything into the same dull shade.

You stopped two steps in. To your right was a wall.

Not a subtle wall. A wall, filled with literal sex toys. You blinked once. Then twice. Then looked very deliberately at the ceiling instead.

“Okay,” you muttered under your breath.

You weren’t naïve. You just… hadn’t processed what “Adult World” meant in practical terms. You’d seen a flyer about used books in the window last week and thought it was quirky. Indie. Maybe ironic.

You forced yourself to move further inside, eyes fixed ahead like if you didn’t look directly at anything, nothing could look back at you.

The counter was empty.

There was a rolling office chair behind it, slightly turned, like someone had just gotten up mid-thought. A half-empty coffee cup sat near the register. A paperback was facedown beside it, spine cracked.

From the back hallway, you heard faint music, something older, and then a voice. Off-key. Low. Singing along like the person didn’t think anyone could hear them.

You stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. Then you cleared your throat. The singing stopped immediately. And there was a beat of silence.

Then a door creaked open in the back, and someone stepped out. He didn’t look surprised to exist. He just looked vaguely irritated that existence required effort.

His eyes landed on you.

Paused.

You watched the exact second he clocked that you were not a middle-aged man. His posture shifted almost imperceptibly. He straightened a little. Ran a hand through his hair like it wasn’t deliberate.

“Uh,” he said, then recovered. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Another beat.

He looked at the book in your hand. “You looking for something specific?” he asked, tone sliding back into dry neutrality.

“I saw you had books,” you said carefully.

“We do.” he hummed.

You tilted your head slightly. “I didn’t realize it was… this.”

He followed your vague gesture toward the rest of the store. “The name didn’t give it away?”

“I thought it was ironic.”

He snorted softly before he could stop himself, then tried to disguise it as a cough. “Yeah. People think that.”

He walked behind the counter, movements loose but not careless. There was a slight stiffness to him, like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands now that you were there.

“You have actual literature?” you asked. “Or is it all, you know—”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Define actual.”

“Something not shrink-wrapped.”

His mouth twitched. “Back left corner. Poetry. Fiction. It’s mostly used. People sell it when they need rent money.”

“Charming.”

You walked toward the back, hyperaware of the rest of the store. Your footsteps felt too loud. The hum of the lights felt louder. You crouched near the shelf he mentioned. The selection wasn’t terrible. Random, but not terrible. You pulled one out and skimmed the first page.

From the counter, he called, “That one’s decent.”

You glanced up. “You’ve read it?”

He shrugged. “I read most of them. It gets slow in here.”

There was something in his tone, not bragging, but not casual either. Like he needed you to know he wasn’t just some guy working at a porn store.

You stood and walked back up to the counter, book in hand. “So,” you said, resting your elbows lightly on the counter. “You work here voluntarily?”

He leaned back from the counter a bit, hands still resting on the edge. “Voluntarily feels like a strong word.”

“You could leave.”

“I could also starve,” he replied.

“Fair.”

He picked up the book from your hands to look at it. His fingers brushed yours briefly, He swallowed almost imperceptibly and focused very hard on the back cover.

“You actually going to buy it?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Cool.” Alex cursed himself mentally, cool? god, dude.

He rang it up, movements efficient but slightly tense, nervous under your watch, He dropped the book once — barely — and muttered, “Shit,” under his breath before setting it flat and scanning it properly.

You pretended not to notice. “You don’t seem like you belong here,” you said, watching him. His eyes flicked up to yours. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you seem like you’d rather be somewhere else.”

A pause.

“Yeah,” he said finally, giving a small shrug. “Probably.”

“So why stay?”

His jaw tightened faintly. There it was, that defensive edge.

“Money,” he said. “And I don’t have a trust fund.”

“I didn’t assume you did.”

“People assume a lot of things.” You held his gaze for a second longer than necessary.

“I’m not people,” you said lightly.

That caught him off guard. You saw it. The flicker. He looked away first, busying himself with the receipt printer. “Right,” he said, a little too quickly. The machine spit out the receipt with a loud mechanical whirr.

When he handed it to you, your fingers brushed again, this time more deliberately. Testing.

He froze for half a second. Not visibly. Just enough that you felt it. “You from around here?” he asked, tone casual but just slightly tighter than before.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

He nodded like that answered something important. “You?” you asked.

“Unfortunately.”

You smiled faintly. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that?” He looked up at you slowly. “I’ve been told.” he murmured. “But like, not in a mean way.” you added.

“Good,” he replied. “I’d hate to accidentally have depth.” You laughed — actually laughed — and it seemed to knock something loose in him. His shoulders relaxed a fraction.

There was a brief silence.

“You can come back,” he said, like it was an afterthought. “For more… literature.”

“Oh, now it’s literature.”

“It always was.” He lied, you adjusted the book under your arm “Maybe I will,” you said. He nodded once, trying for indifferent and landing somewhere slightly hopeful.

ask for their number ask for their number

“Alex — I’m uh, alex by the way.” He quickly added, you looked over your shoulder at him, giving him your name before you left.

The door shut. The bell gave that weak, dying jingle and then the store went quiet again. Alex stood there for a second longer than necessary, staring at the glass like it might rewind the last five minutes if he focused hard enough.

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath.

He replayed it immediately.

You can come back.

For more literature.

God. That was smooth. Truly groundbreaking stuff. He scrubbed a hand down his face and let out a slow exhale. Then, without thinking, he brought his palm down against the counter. A quick, frustrated smack.

“Fuck.” He could’ve asked.

It would’ve been easy. Casual. Hey, if you want, I could text you when new stuff comes in. Boom. Done. Instead he’d stood there like an idiot pretending he didn’t care.

He flexed his hand, jaw tight. Because now he had no idea if you’d actually come back.

★··»—›Kit Walker

I think it’s needless to say Kit is a family man through and through

loves kids and the thought of having them in general

he already has his own so he has experience and knows what to expect

If you want kids

Adding more to the family ? You don’t even get to finish your sentence before he’s hugging you, practically in tears

HOWEVER, if you’re going the traditional route (specifically pregnancy if possible), he’ll be terrified about the aliens taking you away

that’s honestly the only con he sees to it

he’ll already be suggesting names before any kind of procedure is engaged

If you don’t want kids

while he would totally be down to have a kid with you, he’d respect your choice without question

he already has thomas and julia and they’re more than enough

as long as you’re still down to be their stepparent, you’re still a family and that’s honestly all he could ever want, quantity isn’t what matters

★··»—›Frat!Kyle Spencer

Kyle is a little conflicted on the matter in terms of timeline

he’d probably want to start a family in the future

but right now ? At the not so ripe age of 19 and in university ? Not a good idea

It’s one of those thoughts that’s pushed aside in the “future projects” or “things to think about later”

or on occasion if he’s particularly mushy or saw you being nice to a kid

he actually got baby fever on total accident for a couple of days and it scared the hell out of him

like he actually considered the logistics of raising a kid if he took a proper job on the side and continued uni

he more or less avoided you at that moment because he was scared he might somehow convince you despite the subject having never came up yet

If you want kids

Great! Not now though

He’s cool with it if you wanna be young parents but he’d like to at least finish university first and find a stable job

given his father’s absence in his life, he’s a little scared since he has no example or representation of a good dad besides media

so he might need reassurance on that although I do think he’d make a good father in the future

if you can be patient, he can totally visualize having a family with you and he’ll sometimes think of baby names or wonder what the kid would look like, totally out of the blue, and then he’d text you about it

If you don’t want kids

At the moment it’s definitely something you can agree on

In the future it’s a little sad but he would respect your decision regardless

although he might be curious of your reasons (once again, genuine curiosity, not accusation or with the intention of changing your mind by challenging each reason)

he could probably be content with just you even if later he’ll occasionally catch himself thinking about what could’ve been

but if you can compromise on pets it should be smooth sailing

★··»—›Kai Anderson

you probably already know his stance but let me remind you

He wants his messiah baby.

nothing about fatherhood or raising a family, none of that jazz

it’s purely about having a successor and extending the bloodline (the only other two in his bloodline can’t anymore anyway)

If you want kids

great, you’ll come to an understanding then

surprisingly enough, he might soften up once you went past that step

he’d be researching and reading up about the process and even parenting (if he disagrees, he’ll ultimately disregard the expert opinion and make up his own)

he’s not too worried either, it’s all about achieving a goal and you’d almost forget you were bringing a whole person into a world

ultimately kai is not exactly a family man despite his wish to have kids and he’d make it no secret (unless you needed some manipulative coaxing) that the process is a means to an end but he’ll at least do the bare minimum of trying to be pleasant about it (and possibly grow more protective of you)

If you don’t want kids

well, that just won’t do now, will it ?

he wouldn’t pull an asshole move like messing with contraception without you knowing

at least not at first

he’d rather go on about it the nice way and manipulate you first to coax you into following his whim

if you’re the more pragmatic type he might even make it sound more transactional and be upfront that it’s a means to an end and he’ll try to make the process smooth and easy as long as you adhere to it

but ultimately he wouldn’t respect your initial decision and you’d more or less have to agree or he’d have to go on worse and worse ways to make you agree before he resorts to a “happy accident”

★··»—›Peter Maximoff

Truthfully, Peter’s opinion on kids depends on the time in his life you ask the question, specifically : 

DoFP!Peter doesn’t care or has ever spared a thought about kids. He is one anyway, that’s like, lightyears away to him so instead let’s focus on the other two versions

Apocalypse!Peter has actually thought about it once or twice, a passing thought but it’s more in the sense of yeah, it’d be cool to be a dad and that’s about it. Until he joins the X-Men he’s still a 26 year old who lives with his mom so he doesn’t have much reason to think about having his own kids

DP!Peter however… well he’s in his mid thirties so he’s got to that age where it’s not quite at the forefront of his mind, but close. He’s actually quite fond of the idea of being a dad despite his issues with and the prominent absence of his own. I wouldn’t go as far as to say it’s like his top priority or a need but it’s definitely a pretty solid want.

If you want kids

For Apocalypse Peter ? A little early, admittedly. Like, no it’s cool that you do, really, but give him some time ? For a guy who moves as fast as he does, his mind is still barely catching up with his not-so recent adulthood and he wouldn’t consider his situation ideal to raise kids (both back in his mom’s basement and as a new X-Men member)

DP!Peter however is a little giddy internally. Settling down isn’t something he (or anyone who knows him for that matter) ever thought possible, I mean, years back, nobody would’ve trusted him around their kids since he’s always been more like the irresponsible older cousin who teaches you swear words and buys you things your parents would definitely not want you to have. He’s down to start a family with you whenever you’re ready, be it now or in a couple more years, he’ll even grow particularly fond of the kids he saves on missions, the ones at the X-Mansion or even little fans who swarm him outside

If you don’t want kids

For Apocalypse!Peter; yeah, that checks out. Neither of you or in a headspace where you’d feel compelled to want kids. Even if it’s a lifelong decision of staying childless, it’s cool to him because he has a hard time projecting himself too far in the future despite how fast he likes things to go. Overall, he’s cool with your decision, agrees even. No big dealio.

For DP!Peter though, it’s not a dealbreaker but it would probably spark a surprisingly deep and sincere conversation, he’s not prodding you for justification as if you were supposed to want kids, but he is curious as to why. As previously stated, he doesn’t need kids but he would really like the idea of having some, he’d be down to compromise on the method too if you’d prefer adoption or something of the like. It would probably make him a little sad and make things awkward between you two but at the end of the day, he figures it might be better that way since he risks his life daily and a most-likely-mutant child would probably need a lot of time that he might not always have. That’s how he rationalizes it at least, between you and a hypothetical project he likes in theory, he chooses you and accepts your decision. (Besides he can always play father figure for any other kid in the X-Mansion, pretty solid compromise)

★··»—›Julian Dillinger

Let’s be honest, few people would look at Julian and immediately think family man, even if he’s in a family business. 

Especially given his father’s blatant absence in his life

His first ever thoughts on children were most likely fueled by the whole company inheritance line, like yeah, should probably do that someday but without any real personal motive, it’s solely for an heir

If you want kids

Great! That was more or less in the plans anyway, in case you weren’t aware

Admittedly, being with you did bring a more personal motive to having children because their face used to be somewhat of a question mark, besides maybe a replica of his own. Now he actually hopes your child looks like you

He’s a busy man but he’ll do his best to make the pregnancy (if you’re using that route) as easy and pleasant as possible and invest himself as much as possible

If you don’t want kids

Now that might spark a…disagreement. He thought it was obvious with his family line that he had to prolong it. He needs an heir.

I don’t know if I would go as far as to say it’s a dealbreaker but that would definitely be a source of tension as he fully expects you to just see his reasoning. Any of your objections, he’ll find a counterpoint to the point he wants you to have no arguments left. (which is not a very good reason to have children but hey)

He’ll do anything to convince you before even considering resigning and accepting your decision and even if he eventually gives up, you can’t really say he’s ever accepted it and would view it as a failure.

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the night was quiet, except for the occasional scrape of wind against the edges of the house.

you were sitting on the balcony, knees drawn up, fingers tracing the cool metal railing, letting your thoughts drift somewhere safe, somewhere away from the flicker of lights and stitched skin.

the air smelled faintly of rain,you liked this—liked that it was quiet, liked that you could just be.

then you noticed movement from the doorway. kyle. his shadow stretching across the wooden floor before his pale face appeared, cautious, curious.

he didn’t say anything at first, just peeked, brown eyes flicking between you and the railing, unsure if he should come out.

“…hm,” he muttered finally, more sound than words.

you nodded slightly, and he stepped out, taking careful, measured steps until he was beside you.

not too close. not too far. just… there. his hand brushed yours as he settled down, not fully aware of the intimacy of the gesture, just instinct, like he was drawn to your presence.

for a while, neither of you spoke. the silence wasn’t awkward, it was comfortable.

you watched the night, watched the moonlight catch the uneven threads along your arm. kyle’s gaze kept flicking down to your hands, then to the stitches on your skin.

finally, he shifted. one hand held your wrist gently, his fingers gripping just enough to ground himself, while the other traced along the jagged lines of your scars. his head tilted down, brown eyes focused intently on the movements of his own fingers.

“…you…,” he muttered again, voice uneven, breaking words into pieces like he was still learning to speak without thinking it through. his thumb traced one stubborn stitch along your wrist. “it… look… better?”

you stayed still, letting him touch your arm, your hand resting limply in his, silent.

he looked up slowly, his eyes meeting yours mid-motion. there was that familiar hesitancy in him, like he was afraid he’d misstep in human interaction, afraid of breaking the fragile moment.

without thinking, you leaned in. just a quick peck on his lips.

kyle froze. his hand tightened slightly on your wrist, and the other stayed on your arm, suspended in midair. his mouth parted, eyes wide, like he wasn’t sure whether to move or just stay there, suspended in disbelief.

you pulled back slightly, heart hammering, feeling the silence stretch between you.

kyle’s lips twitched—almost a smile—but he didn’t speak. he didn’t need to. his eyes said everything.

he made a small noise—half laugh, half grunt—his hand that had been holding yours squeezed gently, grounding him and you. this time he leant in, slowly letting his lips brush against yours.

you melted slightly into it, letting him find his rhythm, letting the night fold around you.

finally, he pulled back a little, eyes searching yours. he raised one hand, pointing at himself. “I,” he said lowly, voice small.

then he pointed at you, his lips moving like he was saying “like,” the sound broken and half-formed, but audible.

then he brought his finger to you, moving it in the same gesture. his lips moved again, “you,” but no sound came out.

you watched him, then you mimicked the gesture—pointing at yourself first, then at him and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

kyle’s eyes widened, then softened. he brought a hand up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and pressed a tiny, careful kiss to the tip of your nose.

and just like that, the quiet didn’t feel entirely empty anymore.

the first time you see the gun, it’s already in his hands.

tate’s sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor, back against the side of his bed, daylight bleeding in through the thin curtains.

he’s turning the gun over in his hands like it’s something he found in a drawer by accident.

“where did you even get that?” you ask from his desk chair, spinning it slightly back and forth with your foot.

“around,” he mutters.

you roll your eyes. “..that’s not an answer.”

“‘didn’t say it was.” he murmured, giving a small shrug.

you lean forward a bit.

“is it loaded?”

he glances at you then.

“why. you scared?”

“no,” you say, flatly.

he almost smiled at that.

he slowly inches the gun’s point to his temple, finger resting on the trigger. his expression doesn’t change. if anything, he looks bored.

then he makes a quiet “psh” explosion sound under his breath and lets his head loll to the side dramatically, shoulder slumping like he’s just been taken out in some low-budget action movie.

he stays like that for a second.

you don’t laugh.

“you’re so fucking stupid,” you say.

one eye cracks open.

he straightens slowly, rolling his neck like he actually strained it during his fake death. the gun lowers but stays in his hand, lazy, casual. he watches you from under his lashes, studying you the way he always does —

“that’s it?” he asks. “no screaming? no ‘tate, please, don’t’?” he replied, his voice going a tad bit high pitched as he tried impersonating you.

“I— I don’t sound like that, and you definitely weren’t going to do it.”

he studies your face for a long second, searching for a crack.

“you don’t know that.”

“i do.” you state, matter-of-factly

his jaw shifts. a small tic. he hates when you answer too fast. hates when you’re so sure of yourself.

he taps the barrel against his temple again, this time slower.

“what if i did?” he asks. “what if i just decided to be interesting for once?”

“wow,” you mutter. “revolutionary. teenage boy with a death wish. never seen that before.”

that gets him. “…you’re such a bitch.” but there’s no real bite to it.

constance’s heels click across the floor, coming closer to the closed door.

“tate?” she calls. “why is it so quiet up here? I don’t like quiet.”

he doesn’t break eye contact with you when he shouts back, “what? m’busy.”

“doing what?” constance replied, there’s a beat.

“i’m masturbating.” he drawled lazily.

a gasp was heard, “well, that is absolutely repulsive!— I will not have this house turnt into some … some— hormonal circus!”

a strangled sound escapes him — somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

you turn away, shoulders shaking, trying to compose yourself.

“— wipe down whatever you’ve.. contaminated..” she adds sharply.

tate folds forward slightly, one hand covering his mouth now. he looks at you through his fingers, eyes bright in a way they weren’t a minute ago.

“oh my god,” he whispers, barely audible.

“you and i will be discussing this later,” she calls up, colder now. controlled. which is worse. “in detail.”

“you test me, boy. you truly test me,” she mutters to herself, voice fading as she walks away.

he finally lets the laugh out, quiet, breathy, shaking his head.

“hormonal circus,” he repeats under his breath.

you’re still trying to calm down, though there’s something strange about laughing like this, you don’t speak up.

he looks at you again. different now.

“..she’s unbelievable,” he says.

you give a small nod.

he finally sets the gun on his nightstand, but he doesn’t push it far away. just enough that it’s not touching him anymore. like he wants you to notice he moved it.

he leans back on his hands, stretching his legs out, shoes still on the bed. there was a comfortable silence.

“you’re not like the other shit i see, in this weird ass house.” he says after a moment.

“what’s the other shit?”

“shadows. flashes. whatever.” he shrugs. “they don’t talk they don’t ..judge.”

“i’m not judging.”

“you called me stupid.”

“you were.”

he laughs under his breath.

“you’re different,” he continued.

“from?”

“from everyone.” his gaze drags over your face like he’s memorizing it. “you don’t look at me like i’m broken, or something.”

“you are broken,” you say. “you’re..” you paused to find the words. “just— not special for it.”

he hummed at that.

“that’s so fucked up,” he says, but there’s admiration there. “god, you’re hot when you talk like that.” he says, readjusting his position subtly.

you blinked at him before sighing, “jeez, tate. keep it in your pants.”