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leviaju · 4 years

Text

forgiveness

pairing: belphegor x GN! reader, hints of everyone x reader

words: 8.1k+

genre: angst, fluff at the beginning and a bit at the end if u squint

warnings: mentions of mc and lilith’s death, foul language

preview: “I’m sorry,” He begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. “I know that will never cut it, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

hey guys what up. so... i’ve done a lot of thinking about belphegor’s dynamic with MC, and, like many others, was really bothered by the sudden switch after... he killed them. u know. typical stuff. i wanted to fill in the gaps!!! if im being completely honest, this has sat in my wips for.... like half a year. it’s my first time writing for obey me, so i hope that everyone’s not too terribly ooc LOL

anyways yeah. i mention how belphegor killed mc a couple of times, so proceed with caution! hopefully, if i get any ideas, the next stuff i write will be a lot lighter. hope you enjoy! (also requests r open soooooooo)

The weight on your chest crushed your rib cage, threatening to snap your bones like they were nothing more than twigs. All you could see was the pitch black of eternal night, and whether your eyes were opened or closed you couldn’t tell. What commanded your attention was the searing pain in your lungs, growing exponentially every half-second, and the unrelenting grip that was slowly shattering your esophagus. No matter how hard you struggled, squirmed and fought against the weight holding your body down, there was no use. It was pointless. The pain spread from the raging fire in your lungs to the tips of your fingertips, and everywhere felt as if you had been set aflame. Slowly, a light illuminated the force keeping you down.

You couldn’t make out much, save for the cackle that rang insufferably through your ears, and the intense eyes that were staring you down.

They held no remorse.

Bones ache as you rest against your bed, finally allowing the tension in your muscles to melt away. You’d never mistake this feeling for regret of a busy day, having spent so much time with the people you care about, but it certainly took its toll on you.

It began with Satan, who’d asked you the night before to accompany him on an early morning walk. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence — he’d invite you to join his morning routine on every day off, and you’d never refuse — hence, at the wonderful time of 7:00am, you were venturing around the Devildom, hand in hand with the Avatar of Wrath. The two of you would walk, occasionally resting on a park bench for longer than either of you would like to admit, for about an hour and a half before you took an official break. The time was filled with pleasant chatter and comfortable silence. Every so often he’d squeeze your hand, and when you’d look over, the fondest of smiles crossed his face. It was a reminder of how glad he was that you joined him.

At around 8:30, he took you into a café for breakfast, and two of you spent only about thirty minutes there chattering away happily. For the most part, he was vividly and excitedly discussing a book he’d just finished the night before…

Until you were interrupted.

“Hello, lovely!” Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you from behind, just before pressing a kiss on your cheek. Satan sighed, resting his head in his hand as he watched the interaction.

“My selfish older brother’s been hogging you all morning, I couldn’t help but want to whisk you away!”

Despite the glare Satan was sending his way, Asmodeus took a seat next to you, happily engaging in conversation as he completely ignored his brother. He told you that the mall was opening in about an hour, and Asmo desperately wished to get his perfectly-manicured hands on a new makeup product being revealed that day.

“But of course I can’t go alone! How positively dreary that would be.” His fingers twined with yours as he looked at you hopefully, and you ran your thumb across his hand. A sheepish smile crept its way onto your lips, and you looked over at Satan. He simply nodded, flicking his hand as a gesture for you two to leave, and Asmodeus didn’t hesitate. He was quick to stand and pull you with them, holding tight to you as he whisked you away. You called out to Satan, now alone at the table with a reluctant smile on his face as he waved goodbye.

“Thanks for breakfast! Get home safe!”

You almost missed the chuckle that left his lips, the café door closing behind you.

Asmodeus kept you until noon. He got a hold of the lipstick he wanted almost right away, but insisted on buying an outfit to match the colour. Regardless of what you’d initially thought, the outfit wasn’t for him.

“Oh, we’ll look positively stunning together!” He exclaimed after about two hours of forcing you in and out of changing rooms, putting his hands all over you to “adjust the clothing” as he deemed necessary. Near the end, you could feel soreness deep in your muscles creeping in from such an active morning, but Asmodeus’ cheery face and constant flirtations helped you forget about it almost completely.

It wasn’t until you got home that you truly felt the effects of on-and-off walking since early in the morning. Be that as it may, your stomach was growling, loudly reminding you that it was now past lunch. As much as you wished to give up on food for the time being and instead head to your room to collapse, the pain in your belly was enough to urge you to cease any arguments, instead ready to try and ignore the ache in your bones in order to quell the angry rumbling of your stomach.

Unfortunately, when you finally made it to the kitchen, there was no food prepared. Instead, what you found was a dejected Beelzebub, frowning softly as he once again was at the receiving end of a lecture from the eldest of his brothers. As quiet as possible, you snuck into the kitchen, trying to listen in on their conversation.

There was silence, followed by a sigh.

“It’s easier to simply ask what’s going on as opposed to trying to eavesdrop, MC.”

You jumped, then bashfully made your way into the kitchen, a sheepish grin on your face. Lucifer was rubbing his temple.

“Beelzebub was supposed to be on lunch duty, but ended up ‘taste-testing’ to the extent that he ate it all. Again.” Lucifer sighed. The typically perfect eldest brother was being run ragged, if the bags forming under his eyes told you anything. “So, instead of working on the papers I have to get finished for tonight, I’m stuck making lunch while he cleans up.”

Beelzebub’s frown tugged at your heartstrings, and in spite of the exhaustion clawing relentlessly at your bones, you relented.

“Why don’t I help? Four hands are better than two,” you proposed, and a small smile graced Lucifer’s face. He lifted his hand to brush the disheveled black hair out of his face, and your chest ached just a bit at the sight. You made a mental note to drag him to bed for a nap the next time you saw him like this.

“That would be more than welcome. Please, if you may.” Already you turned to start working, but Lucifer’s voice made you pause.

“But no feeding Beel. He’s eaten more than his fill already, he can wait until we’re all done.”

Needless to say, every so often you’d slip Beelzebub a piece of chopped vegetable or cooked meat, and he’d very happily (but quietly!) munch away, his expression radiating warmth and joy. And Lucifer, who seemed to almost be omniscient at times, never once mentioned it. Once the three of you were done cooking, Lucifer placed his hand on your head, patting you gently.

“Good work, MC. I must leave now, but I trust that the two of you will be able to clean everything up. Your help was much appreciated. You will be paid back in kind for all of your hard work.”

If nothing else, the slight blush on Lucifer’s face as he ever-so-gently pressed his lips to the crown of your head was more than enough payment.

“Thank you.” Beelzebub cleared his throat, washing the dishes as you dried them. “I… Thanks for helping. And feeding me.”

His smile warmed your heart, and you nodded, bumping your arm with his gently. The small bit of pink that dusted his cheeks compelled you to coddle him, but you resisted the urge. Barely.

“Anytime, big guy.”

After you ate lunch, the only thought in your mind was the prospect of curling up under your covers and passing out. The fretful, broken sleep the night before wasn’t helping at all in keeping you awake, and that on top of the rest of the day’s events had you yearning for the feeling of your pillows.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t even made it through the door when your phone began to blow up, one notification after the other in quick succession.

GGKKJFLFJG

CMOE QUIC K

PLS

SUPE R RARE EVENT IN MONONONOKE

PELASE

YOU HVE TO BE PARTNERED WIHT SOMEONE TO GTE THE PRIZE

PL E A S E

HURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHURRYHHHUUURRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY

You found yourself in Leviathan’s room, sat in his lap as he explained the event to you. Your half-asleep brain did its best to keep up with his quick speech, but that, along with the warmth of his chest against your back, became the most soothing lullaby.

“Hey! Normie! I agreed to let you sit here so I could easily help you through the event, but if you’re going to fall asleep on me, I’m pushing you off—“

“I’m awake! I’m awake.

...Now, what was I supposed to do?”

The unintentional giggle that escaped your lips at his expression caused Leviathan to huff, exasperated, despite the flush of his face. Diligently, however, he thoroughly explained the event, for the second time, and the method to obtain the rare prize: a level 2000 I’m Going To Murder You So Hard That You’ll Come Back To Life Just To Die Again Death Sycthe, the strongest weapon ever released in the game. It was a partner event, which explained Leviathan’s desperate and urgent request for aid. You didn’t mind though. While yes, you’d probably never be able to get to his level of gamer, you were more than happy to go along for the ride. It made him happy!

Leviathan rested his chin against your shoulder as he played on his phone, focused to such a degree that the usually easy-to-fluster demon was completely unphased by your proximity. Your phone, set to AutoFight, rested untouched near Leviathan’s leg, abandoned on the floor. You watched him expertly take out enemies that would have one-hit KO’d you through heavy eyelids, and every time he beat a wave of enemies, his attention would momentarily avert from the screen, looking at you from the corner of his eye expectantly. A kiss on his cheek was more than enough to motivate him to continue on, albeit with a pink glow on his cheeks until his attention was once again completely wrapped up in the game at his fingertips.

“Levi! I said open up, goddamnit!”

The pounding against the door was enough to distract Leviathan from his game, subsequently killing his character in the process. He groaned, cursing the demon who interrupted the two of you as he gently lifted you off of his lap, before getting up to open the door.

“The hell do you want?!”

To be completely honest, you were so wrapped up in watching Leviathan play his games that you had forgotten about your weekly movie night with Mammon, who had come over to his younger brother’s room to drag your ungrateful ass back to your own. Leviathan had cleared the event in Mononoke Land hours ago, but not wanting you to leave just yet, invited you to keep watching him play. Setting aside how tired you were, how could you say no? You’d wanted to spend time with him, too.

Unfortunately, you lost track of time, and your phone, battery completely drained from the event, rested uselessly in your pocket. A consequence of this happened to be missing the countless messages and calls Mammon had sent your way, before he began his hunt for you throughout the house. The last place he checked was, of course, Leviathan’s room.

“Come on, human, I ain’t got all day. No one keeps the Great Mammon waiting!”

“Except for MC,” you heard Leviathan mumble under his breath, and a laugh escaped you before you had the chance to slap a hand over your mouth. Mammon flushed deeply, before striding into his brother’s room.

“Hey, wait, you moron! I never said—!”

The force of Mammon throwing you over your shoulder wasn’t enough to hurt, but it certainly was enough to leave you breathless for a moment. “Let’s go, fragile human. I picked the perfect movie already.” Mammon’s words came out in a bashful mumble, but he had enough courage to lift his head and smirk at Leviathan as he carried you out of the room. All you could do was smile apologetically at the blue haired demon before Mammon turned, bringing you out of sight.

Mammon was all complaints as he carried you to your bedroom, but you knew it came from a place of love. Even though he’d never admit it, you could tell he was hurt by you unintentionally ignoring him. Because of this, instead of demanding he let you down, you allowed him to hold you like this, not a single complaint leaving your lips.

When he brought you to your room, you were set on the bed you’d missed dearly and he went to put the movie in the player.

“Hey! No sleepin’ on me, alright? I wanna watch the movie with ya, and I can’t if you’re passed out, now can I?”

And so here you are now, bed frame creaking as Mammon climbs onto the mattress. Rubbing your eyes, you nod, and lean into him once he gets close enough for you to.

“Seriously, I’m gonna hafta have a serious talk with Levi,” Mammon grumbles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in so that you’re almost in his lap. He pulls the blankets over the two of you as you rest your head on his chest, and hum quietly in return. “He used up all your energy, and now we won’t be able to get to enjoy the movie as much! Honestly…”

The vibrations of Mammon’s words can be felt through his chest, and you simply cuddle into him more and try to train your bleary eyes on the television screen. The Avatar of Greed shuts up completely when you take his hand in yours and press a gentle kiss to it, before doing your best to focus on the movie. As time passes, however, the idea of giving into your whims grows more than tempting, and oh-so-easy for you to do.

“Hey! Yo, MC! Seriously… You’re hopeless.”

A chiding, yet gentle voice draws you from the confines of rest. You puff air from your nose in response, cuddling closer to whatever it was that had been so comfortable in the first place.

“MC… Come on. Ya gotta wake up, ya didn’t even watch any of the movie! It was really good, y’know.”

Mammon’s hand rubs circles on your back as you mumble incoherently, a noise to acknowledge the fact that he‘s been talking, and that you are indeed awake now.

It takes a good amount of time, as well as some gentle encouragement from Mammon, to get you to finally open your heavy eyes, and even longer for you to be able to apologize to him for missing out on the movie he was so excited to watch. He pouts a bit, but the blush on the highs of his cheeks lets you know that he didn’t mind all that much. You smile and yawn, and his chuckle resonates in your ears.

“I gotta go now, otherwise Lucifer’s gonna kill me for staying so late. Sorry I woke ya up, but ya look so tired now that you’ll probably fall back asleep right away.”

And so, after a quick goodbye and a kiss on the cheek (which made Mammon turn the prettiest shade of red), you close your door and… sigh. If you had been able to stay asleep, the fact that you aren’t in pajamas and haven't brushed your teeth wouldn't be that much of an issue. Now that you‘re slightly more conscious, however, it’s hard to convince yourself to simply climb back into bed. Your breath is bugging you a bit, and the jeans you’re wearing certainly aren’t at all as comfortable as your pajama pants. For that reason, to your own dismay, you begin getting ready for bed — properly this time.

A small “finally…” tumbles from your lips after you finish your nighttime routine. Lacking any form of grace, you plop into bed once more and pull the blankets to your chin, nuzzling into the pillow. Your bed still smells like Mammon’s cologne, and you hum softly to yourself before closing your eyes and waiting for sleep to take over once more, and hold you hostage until late in the morning.

Alas, sleep seemed to be evading you now, similar to how you had ignored it during the day. The mattress you lay on simply isn't comfortable anymore, and the blankets that hug your body cause you to overheat. Unfortunately, if even one limb is out of the blanket, you get so cold you start shivering. None of your typical sleeping positions are anywhere near as effective as they typically are, and you’re left to wrestle with sleep alone, hoping to beat it into submission so you can finally get some proper rest.

After about 45 minutes of tossing and turning with no results, you finally relent. The nap you’d taken while watching the movie royally fucked you over, and you groan. Eventually you decide to give up on trying to fall back asleep, and huff as you sit properly on your bed.

Blanket dragging behind you as it drapes from your shoulders, you slowly make your way through the silent hallways of the House of Lamentation. The only sounds floating through the walls were the light buzz of electricity running through the wiring of the house, and your own footsteps as you began walking up one of the many staircases in the large building.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been walking, the passage of time different at night to a hazy mind, but eventually you arrive at your favourite area in the house, second only to your lush bedroom. There are no artificial lights, only the gentle cast of the night sky providing the ideas of shape in the planetarium. You’ve never seen stars so vibrant and bright, and there are so many more in the Devildom than anywhere you could go back home. Even though the only light comes from the stars, it’s enough to create soft, fuzzy edges around everything in the room; this includes the bundle of various blankets mussed in the centre of the floor. Slowly, cautiously, you make your way towards the pile.

Since you’d arrived in the Devildom, the planetarium at the top of the House of Lamentation became your safe haven. Your room, without a lock on the door, was way too easy for intruding demons to enter without permission, and on nights when everything became too much for you to handle, you’d head up to the planetarium to clear your mind. There’s just something so calming about a starry sky on a clear night that releases you of your fears and anxiety, and helps you get a grip on the situation around you.

After freeing a certain someone from their attic-based captivity, however, you learned that the planetarium was a place favored not only by you. Since he’d been freed, you’d been kind, but there were still fears plaguing your mind, reminding you of everything that has transpired between the two of you. It’s something that you can’t escape, following you even - especially - in your sleep, when you wished you’d be the most at peace. It makes sense, considering the sin he embodies, but you wish it wasn’t like that nonetheless.

Once you’d learned that this was one of his favourite rooms in the house, especially on nights when he can’t fall asleep, you found yourself avoiding this area. It’s not that you hate him; it’s the opposite, really. Nevertheless, you can’t help but feel the tightening of his fingers around your neck, and the burning sensation in your lungs that’s screaming for oxygen, and the desperation to alleviate the seer of deprivation.

Still, you trek on. Closer and closer to the pile of blankets, your gut cries to you to run away. You ignore it. The nearer you get to the nest of blankets, the faster your heart beats, the more lightheaded you feel. But you continue.

Eventually you get close enough to make out the shape of a familiar pillow, the cow print on the case worn and well-loved. From the moment you walked in the room, you knew he was here. All the same, you walk on, and the only sounds in the room are the gentle taps of your clothed feet against the tile, and the quiet noises of your quickened breaths.

You’ve avoided being alone with him since… Since you… Since the event. Your heart screamed at you to forgive him, to love him just as much as you love his brothers. That said, there’s nothing in you that can stop your stomach from churning whenever he gets too close.

Butterflies beat aggressively within your heart and stomach, and it’s years before you get within his range of sight, but you sit down on the floor, holding the blanket tight to your body.

There’s one beat,

two beats,

three beats of silence before you can hear him sucking in a breath through his teeth. In your peripheral you can see his lips parting, closing, parting again as he tries to find the words. He heard you walk in, and was pleasantly surprised when you didn’t immediately bolt in the opposite direction. However, this proximity leaves him with an entirely new predicament. He wants to talk to you, he wants to laugh and joke with you the way his brothers do, but one look at your face and he notices the dark bags under your eyes, and the frown that tugs at your lips as you stare up at the stars. He can hear your heart racing, and feel his own in the tips of his fingers. He opens his mouth again, but the crack in his voice betrays his usual collected personality.

“I’ll go,” Belphegor begins, begrudgingly starting to gather his blankets. His body freezes when his eyes pass over your figure and you’re looking right at him, through him, and he swears he can feel the blood in his veins stop pumping. Your expression is unreadable, almost scary, and he’s never in his life been in fear of a human until this moment.

The seconds pass as years do, both of your bodies chilled to the bone but neither of you able to look away. In the end, the one who casts their gaze somewhere else is you, and he exhales loudly.

“Don’t.”

Your reply is simple, but he’s stuck in place. Slowly, he nods, sitting down again the way he had been prior, and pulling his beloved pillow close to his chest. He can’t breathe, the tension suffocating. It doesn’t help that now you refuse to look at him.

“... If you want,” he replies dumbly, staring at the floor. He feels trapped in place, afraid to move and scare you off. Despite every nerve in his body screaming at him to leave you be, he stays. You told him to, after all. Slowly, you sit down, his blankets creating a low wall between the two of you.

It’s only now that he gets a good look at you. You're tired, he knows, watching as your eyelids droop and your lazy movements when you get more comfortable under your blanket, but there’s more to it than just that. You seem so fragile, like sugar glass, breaking with even the slightest amount of pressure. He feels he can reach over and shatter you with the gentlest of touches, and that thought alone roots him in place. Since you came back, he’s never seen you without a smile. Your genuine smile was the prettiest, he decided rather early on, one that lights up your face and brightens those around you. Belphegor really, truly loves your smile.

He knows there was a point in time, not long ago, where he could have made it so no one saw it ever again. He can’t help but be grateful he didn’t succeed when he sees you smiling at his brothers.

That’s never the smile you show him though. It’s not for lack of effort; you certainly try, and he loves you for that. But the smile you show him is always plastered on, and he knows you’re doing it for his sake. With Belphegor, your smile never reaches your eyes. Be that as it may, you’re never weak around him. Fake smiles prove exactly how strong you really are, but your heart races every time he enters the room. As much as he wishes your palpitations are out of excitement, he knows better than to give himself false hope.

That’s why he’s so taken aback when he looks you over and you seem so vulnerable. Never, not in a million years, would he ever let himself believe that you’d allow yourself to look weak in front of him, not after what he did. Even so, here you are, shaking, knees drawn into your chest, and his heart soars because you’re showing him a new side to yourself. It aches at the knowledge that you’re feeling so vulnerable because of him.

His eyes burn holes in the side of your head. You know he’s watching you, studying you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not when the hands he uses to pull the blankets over his body are the exact same ones that led you to your untimely and violent demise, and not when every time you look at his face, you can also see Mammon’s above you, sobbing as he tries to will you not to fade away into nothingness.

There’s no putting it nicely. You were murdered, and Belphegor was the one who killed you. As much as he tries to pretend it never happened, to act around you the same as his older brothers do, you would never forget. Neither would he, regardless of the effort he puts into pushing the memory out of his mind. His chosen way of coping was to laugh with you, to get close and have you forgive him without acknowledging the situation. It was too painful to talk about, after all. He willingly, happily snuffed out the life of someone his brothers love, and someone he’d find himself loving too. You became someone who changed him, helped him grow and be better. It was easier, simpler to act as if you’d met him the same way you’d met any of his brothers.

Belphegor killed one of the last remaining parts of his past, a part that, while once warm and light, mutated and infected him, causing his anger to grow out of control, like a weed that suffocates any flower that tries to flourish. He killed a descendant of his sister, and the fact that you’re here now is more of a second chance than he thinks he could ever deserve in all his millenia of living.

And yet, here you are. Scared and shaking, but here. The silence has stretched on for longer than he’d like; he wants to be able to love you, openly and happily, but knows it won’t happen. It can’t, unless he does what he thought was the very last thing he’d do.

“I’m sorry,” Belphegor begins, voice much weaker than anticipated. He can hear your heartbeat pick up, and he curses himself mentally. Your lip between your teeth, you remain silent. His nerves force him to speak more.

“I know that will never cut, and it will never be enough, but I’m sorry.”

There’s more silence. He feels like he can’t breathe, the tense atmosphere forcing its way around his throat and tightening its grip. He doesn’t know how long it takes you to even contemplate replying, let alone allow yourself to respond. Belphegor’s ears ring almost deafeningly loud. He can’t take it.

“You’re right.”

His eyes, which he trained to the ground, dart up to your profile once more. You pause, wetting your lips.

“You’re right, Belphegor. It won’t cut it.”

There’s not enough time to process your words before he really, really looks at you. Almost fearlessly, you meet his eyes.

Almost fearlessly.

The shaking of your hands betrays the strength of your voice. Belphegor’s chest aches.

“But…”

There’s a pause as you speak. He can’t look away again, even as your eyes meet the stars once more. There’s no chance he’ll miss a word you say, even if it tears him apart.

“It’s… it’s really difficult. I know you know that, but…”

Each time you pause, Belphegor’s mind begins storming. He can’t figure out what you’re going to say, or how you’re going to react, and it drives him crazy. He’s usually so good at reading people, but you’re an enigma. It sends a chill down his spine.

His throat is caught. Even if he had words to say, they wouldn’t be able to come out. So he sits in silence as you find your own.

“I don’t want you to feel worse than you do.” You lick your lips. “Or maybe I do? I… I really don’t know. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about you, Belphie.”

The nickname tugs at his heart, more than he could ever admit. He wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to do anything other than look at your melancholy face, knowing he’s the problem. He wants to run and hide, to sleep forever. He can’t, though. Not when you’re here. Not now.

Knuckles turn white as he clutches desperately onto his pillow. His breath shakes as he draws in air.

“I want to love you. I want to love you as much as I love your brothers, and care about you as much as I care for them…”

You struggle to find the words.

“... But it’s hard.”

You curse your lack of eloquence. Now, of all times, when your words are the only thing that enable you to communicate how you truly feel, they fail you. This might be your only chance to ever properly show Belphegor how you feel, what makes you so conflicted every time he walks into the room with a smile on his face, and yet all you can say is “it’s hard”. Obviously.

A breath finds its way into your lungs, and the sound of your lips parting in the otherwise silent planetarium echoes in your ears.

You continue.

“It’s hard because every time I see your face, or I hear your voice, or I-”, you falter, heart catching in your throat, “or you touch me, I can’t help but be reminded of what happened.”

Belphegor doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from your form. The grief that settles into his face perfectly matches your own, eyebrows upturned and bottom lip quivering just the slightest bit. Even the trembling of your hands is replicated in his own. He’s never seen you like this, so incredibly vulnerable, and it tears him apart inside to know that he is the cause of it.

A shuddery breath comes from Belphegor, and you fight your instincts to check if he’s okay. You know he isn’t.

The silence deafens you, thundering in your ears so harshly that you're tempted to place your hands at the side of your head to muffle how quiet it is. You don’t, however, and whether it’s because you don’t want to look crazy, or because you’re afraid you might shatter if you move, you’ll never know. Do you want him to talk? Do you want him to say anything? Do you want an apology?

If you had an answer for that, you’re sure that things would have patched themselves up much quicker than this. You caution a glance at Belphegor, and the weight pressing down on your chest gets heavier at his expression. It feels almost as if you can inhale the guilt he feels, the emotion radiating off of him in waves.

“I… Logically, Belphie, I get it.” Again with that cursed nickname. Usually, hearing it from your lips makes Belphegor feel warm and goddamn near giddy, but now it only seemed to drive the knife in his gut further.

“I understand what happened and why you did it. I may not agree… but I get it, you know?” You swallow.

“In the end, I’m still here. And… and I’ve come to learn that you’re nothing like that anymore. You’ve grown, and changed, and the guilt and anger that consumed you took control, and that's why you-- that’s--”

You pause, clutching the blanket around you to try and ground yourself. The shakiness in your voice is not missed by Belphegor, and even if it had been, there’s no way he’d be able to ignore the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. Slowly, subconsciously, one of your hands comes up to rest against your neck, a phantom of the grasp that once threatened to crush you.

“S-So… I understand why you did it. And I’m alive, and we’re friends, so it should all be okay, right?” Belphegor casts his glance away.

“But Belphie… as much as I want to forgive you, I also know that I’m never going to be able to forget what happened. It’s there in my dreams, and it’s there in your smile, and it’s there every single time your arm brushes mine and I flinch like a total loser.”

A weak chuckle makes its way out of your chest, and the halfhearted smile that follows forces a tear from your eye. You’re quick to wipe it away, hopefully quick enough so that it goes unnoticed by Belphegor.

It does.

What he does notice, however, is the frustration that holds tight to the edges of your sentences. The frustration is not directed at him, no. You would be yelling if that were the case, and maybe that would be easier for him to hear. No, this frustration is directed at yourself. You’ve been trying so hard, and all Belphegor has been doing is running away. His teeth dig so hard into his bottom lip, trying desperately not to show any anger he feels at himself, that he tastes iron.

“And then we became all buddy-buddy, you know? Like I was never lied to, or used, or manipulated, or-- or--”

Belphegor is torn from his self-pity when you continue, and he almost wishes you’d stop speaking. The thought that you might break him with your words has him shaking, and a feeling similar to fear courses heavily through his veins. Please, stop. He wants to go back to running away.

But you continue, as you always have.

“And I’m left not knowing how to feel. I’m so mad at myself for being such a coward and not being able to just get over it like everyone else, and I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t just exist around you like I do for everyone else. I mean, I used to be terrified of Lucifer, too.” Another fragile laugh, and you sweep the hair from your eyes with a shaky hand. Belphegor swallows hard.

“But I… I can’t pretend like nothing happened. As much as I want to be near you, and hug you, and take naps and play pranks on Luci with you… I can’t. I can’t act as if what I feel isn’t real, and what you did didn’t happen. It’s so hard, Belphegor.” You sigh, and finally look at him once more. He can’t meet your gaze, slumped over himself and hugging his pillow so tight to his chest it seems as if he wishes to disappear into it. “Especially because I really, truly want to understand why everyone loves you so much. And I want to love you, too. I want to know why Beel smiles every time you’re brought up in conversation, and I want to smile just the same. But… But right now, I can’t.”

Talking has gotten easier. The words that used to escape you have become accustomed to being used again, and confidence has restored in your gut. You sit a bit straighter as you watch Belphegor carefully, a sad smile lifting your cheeks.

Belphegor knows that this is when he should swoop in, say something so intellectual that you’re caught off guard, and he can save you from… himself. This knowledge does nothing to save him from himself. He can’t even open his mouth to mime a sentence, let alone actually speak. The thought of how pathetic he must look settles under Belphegor’s skin, and he can feel his irritation rising. Not at you though, never at you. Not even when… When it all happened. His anger was misplaced, but he has never been angry at you.

Finally, when the quiet becomes too much, he forces himself to meet your gaze. The way you look at him, just as vulnerable and bare and scared as he is… he feels safe. He knows, even though your words sear his heart, that you never mean to hurt him, especially now. You’re being honest, and simply expect the same from him.

Belphegor inhales a deep breath, before willing himself to speak.

“I thought--” he croaks, and quickly clears his throat. Fuck. “I thought that if… if I could pretend that nothing happened, then I wouldn’t have to face any consequences.”

He curses audibly. Just how pathetic can he sound? Belphegor’s voice is hoarse and quivering, and weak. “Weak” is never a word that he would have used to describe himself, but now it echoes hauntingly against the confines of his skull. One of the most powerful demons in existence, and he finds himself quaking before a mere human. He cares for you, though, and he cares for you viciously. Something in Belphegor knows that he’s never going to be able to prove that to you unless he pushes his way through this.

So he forces himself to continue, even with every cell in his body desperately screaming at him to stop.

“I did what I did out of a place of guilt… and regret. I couldn’t stand the fact that it was because of me, that it was my fault, that I’m the reason that Lilith--”

Belphegor stumbles over his own words, and he sets down his pillow before he accidentally tears a hole through it. Instead he braces himself on the cool floor, in need of something steady to hold onto. This whole conversation shook him to the core. He can hardly believe he’s talking about his sister. She’s a topic that he’s avoided even around Beelzebub…

But if Belphegor ever wants even the possibility that you’ll forgive him, he knows he has to. Everything is on the line. His blunt nails press against the tiles and he focuses on steadying his voice.

“I couldn’t accept that it was my fault.” A newfound steadiness weaves its way around his words, and he finds himself sitting a bit straighter. “I’m the one who introduced her to the human world, and kept bringing her back. I’m the reason she suffered, and why the war started, and why we fell, and why she…” Belphegor coughs. “In the end, I couldn’t accept that I’m the one who killed her.

Your heart yearns to tell him that no, he’s wrong, it’s not all his fault. You know it won’t help right now, though, and that it isn’t your time to speak. Settling back a bit, you let your blanket fall from your shoulders.

Belphegor’s heart stutters, and pounds so hard that he feels like it's trying to tear through his chest. Even so, he doesn’t miss the way your hand reaches out to smooth over his own, and for a moment he feels himself wanting to melt just from the simple touch.

Belphegor pulls away. He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not yet.

“So… So when you said that you’re a descendant of Lilith, I-- I couldn’t help myself. I jumped at the chance to get to know you, learn about what makes you similar and what makes you different. Her blood flows through your veins, and I was quick to ignore what I did in favour of getting to know you, and… and inevitably, becoming just as fond of you as my brothers… but that can’t erase what I did.”

The feeling of understanding floods you and you find yourself nodding at his words. To be completely honest, even now, you’re scared. Your heart beats for many reasons, fear one of them, but you don’t run away. Not anymore. You couldn’t bring yourself to even if you wanted to.

Your hand, abandoned next to Belphegor’s, lay dormant. The need to comfort wills you to once again place your hand on his, but you don’t move. When he’s ready, if he ever is, you’ll be there.

Just as he’ll be there for you.

“I killed you, MC. And in doing that, I killed Lilith. Again.”

Countless emotions storm their way through Belphegor’s conscience, despair clawing at his throat, regret snapping his back, and guilt slowly crushing him under its weight. How is it that one can feel so empty, and yet so filled to the brim with misery?

“And not only that, but if I succeeded… I would have completely missed out on getting to know you, and caring about you as much as I do now. It would have been a loss that I never would have understood, but know for a fact that I would have felt. Even… Even when I was proud,” he spits out the word as if it’s poison, “of what I’d done, watching my brothers’ hearts break at the sight of your body… Even then, I felt it. The ache. It’s so fucking stupid.”

His tone, now bubbling with anger, stills you. It’s not directed at you, and you know this, but despite yourself, you freeze. Belphegor notices, and quickly clears his throat, relaxing his shoulders. He allows your heart a moment to slow as he regains his composure, and you find yourself breathing again.

“I know that me saying sorry is never going to cut it.” Belphegor turns his body to fully face you. He’s no longer running from his feelings, or from you. He knows he can’t anymore. Hesitantly, he lifts his trembling hand to place over yours. The muscles in your fingers tense, and he pauses to gauge your reaction. When you slowly nod your head once, he delicately places his hand on yours, using his thumb to gently begin massaging the tension away. “And I know that even if I do everything right from here on out, that there’s a chance that you won’t ever forgive me. And I understand why.”

Your heart sinks at his expression, his gaze locked on your joined hands. As aloof as he normally is, you can see none of that on his face now. When you turn over your hand he quickly pulls away, but your shaky movements to bring his hand back and intertwine your fingers urges him to go on.

“But I want to try. And really try this time. I want you to be honest with how you feel, whether I’m frustrating you or scaring you or anything like that, and… and I want to be honest with you too. I…”

Belphegor trails off, but you squeeze his hand. He draws in a slow breath.

“No matter what happens, no matter how you feel, we’re stuck together for the next few months. I want to spend that time getting to know you, and I want us to be as close as you are with any of my brothers… but I also want you to know that you shouldn’t feel forced. If it’s ever too much, I need you to tell me, and I promise I’ll back off.”

The smallest of smiles makes its way onto your face as you quietly agree. Belphegor doesn’t allow himself to try and figure out if it's genuine, out of pity, or sadness, but in spite of everything, it makes him feel a bit lighter. Just a bit.

“This won’t fix everything right away,” you say, and he now knows that your smile is a combination of the three. Along with this, though, Belphegor also knows the small sparkle in your eyes is hope, and he’s willing to take that hope and nurture it for however long he must.

“I know,” he sighs, but even he can feel the small tilt of a smile on his face, “but I’m willing to take as much time as you need to decide how you feel about me. And… And if you decide you hate me, which is fair, and that you never want to even be in the same room as me, I’ll respect your wishes.

Until then...Until you decide that you really, truly hate me, I won’t stop trying.”

There’s no way of telling how long his words linger in the air around the two of you, circling around your heads and making their way through your body. Even so, Belphegor diligently watches you, wanting to make sure he’s not overstepping his bounds. He even contemplates letting go of you, but is reassured when slowly, almost unnoticeably, you begin smoothing out the lines on the back of his hand with your thumb.

As much as you want to tell him that you could never hate him, you also know you can’t promise anything. Still, for now, just as much as him, you’re willing to try. You stay in silence, more comfortable than you’ve ever been in his presence, gently caressing the hand held in your own.

Eventually, Belphegor clears his throat once more. The vulnerability has made him tense and rendered his voice weak.

“Can… can you hug me?” He all but whispers, fragility making his body quiver once more. He was completely open about his feelings for the first time in a lifetime, and the intensity of it left him craving affection. He knows how unfair this is to you, but he can’t help himself. He wishes to be held, for his fears to be quelled by someone so much stronger than him. “If you don’t want to,” he falters, speaking quickly, insecurely, “I won't even touch you. I-If you do, I promise I can keep my hands behind my back, and I won’t even--”

His words end abruptly as he feels you release his hand, and his heart sinks. He debates running away again, until he hears you moving towards him, and he finds he’s frozen in place. Slowly, but surely, with more courage circulating through your veins than you’ve had all night, you make your way over the blankets that divide you and position yourself right next to Belphegor, pulling him into your chest. Even now, he can feel how quickly, persistently your heart races, and yet you stay. True to his word, Belphegor rests his hands on the ground behind his back, but he doesn’t stop himself from nuzzling into your chest… and he cries. The complete, uninhibited release of his emotions hit him like a truck, and he sobs heavily into you, tears slowly but surely staining your shirt. You adjust yourself so you can hold him closer, slowly and reassuringly rubbing his back as he lets go of everything he’s been holding on to for longer than you can even imagine. This is a man who’s run from his emotions for centuries, and the fact that he’s willing to face them for your sake comforts you, cradles your heart and presses gentle kisses against the cracks. You know that you’re not going to wake up tomorrow with everything okay, but for now… for now you’re comfortable with his touch. Heaving in a deep, steadying breath, you reach down just enough to take Belphegor’s arms, and guide them to rest his hands on your hips. At this silent permission, he slowly, delicately wraps his arms around your waist, despite craving your body closer, wanting to hold you tight and never let go. He cradles you like you’re made of the most brittle glass, and you smile. The gesture touches your heart, and… and you feel safe. You know that all he wants to do is embrace you as tight as he can, but he doesn’t, even with permission.

Here, in Belphegor’s arms, you feel safe. Here, where Belphegor’s grip on you is so gentle that it wouldn’t even crumple paper, you feel loved. As he cries into your chest, holding you as if you were an antique, hope slowly fills your heart.

Everything is far from perfect, but it’s still on the right track, here in the quiet planetarium.

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years

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sad together, last together : s.s

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED UNTIL AUGUST. Please do not send one in right now, as I can’t get to it sorry guys.

brief summary: it all started with a drunken mistake, but led to something more between two of the sadest people in the vlog squad - shame no one knows how beautiful it all is just yet

word count: 1.3k requested: yes! i combined two requests (one to use sad together by olivia obrien a vibe entirely) (two - write about dating scotty and no one knowing) warnings: idk if there are any?? let me know if there are!

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it hasn’t been approved me unless specified. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK - IT IS ALL MY OWN WRITING

Your fingertip swirls around the rim of the glass as you watch everyone dance together, not a single care in the world consumes their thoughts.

David’s filming Natalie and Corinna, whilst Zane orders more shots to share with Todd and smiles cross all of their faces. Yet, you’re sat in the booth by yourself, too preoccupied with past memories.

“Hey,” Snapping from your past, you smile up as Scott slides into the booth next to you with two shot glasses being placed on the table. “you doing alright?” He asks, you only just understanding him by reading his lips.

“Yeah,” You lie, nodding along to persuade him. “just in my head a bit, that’s all.” You add, glancing to your left, remembering when his arm was around you as you laughed giddily.

Scott goes quiet upon seeing your brows furrow together, your shoulders dropping. “Here,” He speaks up, passing you the shot glass. “it won’t last forever you know.” He tells you, nudging your arm playfully.

“I know, we’re born alone and we die alone, so cheers.” You hold up the glass before knocking the shot back, feeling the bitter burn through your throat as you wipe your lips.

The last thing you expected to wake up to in the morning was a face smushed into the pillow beside you, let alone Scott’s face smushed into a pillow.

“What the fuck!” You blurt out, tumbling out from your bed as Scott begins to stir.

“Too loud.” He mumbles, rubbing his eyes before opening them and looking up to see you. “You’re in my top.” He points out groggily.

“And you’re in my bed, shirtless.” You add and Scott sits upright, taking a look at himself before his eyes widen.

“Did we?” He holds the bridge of his nose as you shrug your shoulders, trying to remember details from last night. “All I remember is you telling me you didn’t want to be alone.”

A small laugh leaves your lips as you perch back on the edge of your bed, smiling up at him. “I mean, that parts true.” You say, now focusing solely on the rising smile on Scott’s lips. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“I’d love some, yeah.”

It was only going to be a two-time thing, but sometimes things didn’t work out that way.

Lying in bed, curled up against Scott’s chest you could hear his heartbeat rhythmically beating. He was fast asleep whilst you were focused on the ceiling, endless thoughts circling your mind.

“Why’re you awake?” Glancing up, you see Scott tiredly looking down at you with a lazy smile.

“Sorry,” You mutter, slowly moving to sit upright. “I just couldn’t get to sleep, too much on my mind that’s all.” You shrug it off, but even in the darkness, you can see the faint outline of concern on Scott’s face.

“Is it about us?” Scott speaks up, catching you looking away from him as he mentions the possibility of being an ‘us.’ “If you wanna stop, we can. I know this was a temporary agreement.” Scott justifies as he shuffles under the covers.

“I, I don’t want it to be temporary.” You quietly admit, playing with the hem of his t-shirt over your body. “And I know, that’s wrong of me to say, but I didn’t think I’d get attached.”

Remaining still, you can feel your heart sinking as Scott turns away from you.

Yet, you blink as he turns the bedside lamp on and quickly reaches out, holding your cheek with his hand as he kisses you sweetly, not wanting to let go.

“Then let’s make it long-lasting, huh?” Scott mutters as you pull away from the kiss, feeling his words closely as you nod. “I guess we should go on a date sometime then?” He suggests, hearing you chuckle softly before cuddling back up into him, knowing you’ll get a better night sleep with him holding you close.

Much to your surprise, things were going well between you both. Yet you couldn’t ignore that dull thought in the back of your mind, still fighting its way through your barriers to pipe in.

Today was one of those days, and you couldn’t ignore the thoughts. Scott could tell from the moment he walked into your place. Usually, you greeted him with a tight hug, your legs wrapped around his waist as he walks to your couch, the pair of you just lounging over one another talking about your days. Instead, Scott was greeted with silence and the eventual shuffle of your slippers, followed by a half-hearted wave.

“Do you wanna go out somewhere?” Scott suggests, feeling the weight of your head lifting from his chest as you quirk an eyebrow in response. “I mean, just to get out of the house. As much as I love being here, fresh air isn’t a bad thing either.” Scott shrugs his shoulder, trying to play it off. But really he does care, and is scared about it.

Rubbing your eyes with your palm, you nod along. “Sure, I’ll grab my purse.” You force yourself to your feet, wandering back into your bedroom as you change into your trainers, discarding your slippers under the dark depths of your bed.

As you emerge from the bedroom, Scott can’t help but beam at you. It didn’t matter how many times he’d seen you, nor what state he has previously seen you in. But there was something about your tired smile and messy hair, just on show for you and him, it made his heart beat faster as you rolled your eyes.

“Alright house cat, let’s go.” Scott holds his hand out, feeling you grab hold as he pulls you to his side, kissing the top of your head as a smile crosses your lips before you close the front door behind you.

Laughing lightly, you took another spoonful of the ice cream to your lips. “You got something on your nose,” Scott motions and you bashfully look away, trying to wipe it off. “come here you dipshit.” Scott chuckles as he rests his hand under your chin, using his thumb to wipe off the blob of ice cream on your nose.

“Better?” You ask, his hand moving up to rest on your cheek.

“Beautiful.” Scott mutters in response before leaning in, kissing you with the sweetness of strawberry ice cream.

“Fuck off, no!” Pulling away abruptly, you both turn to see Zane stood to the side of you with Hidaya by his side, covering her mouth with both hands. “No, you guys? Seriously?” Zane stutters over his words, watching in shock as you just nod.

“Yeah, for like four months.” You smile up at Scott, hearing the words leave his lips. “She’s my girlfriend, and I’m her kinda depressed boyfriend.”

“Oh my god this is adorable.” Hidaya comments, nudging Zane to say something as he simply stares at you both like jugs of apple juice in Ralphs.

“Four months, and none of us noticed?” Zane reiterates his point as you just chuckle before moving over, patting his shoulder lightly.

“It’s okay, Zane. But hey, you’re the first to know.” You joke before moving back over to Scott, accepting your ice cream from him.

“See, I told you good things happen when I visit.” Hidaya mutters, causing you to chuckle lightly.

“You guys want some ice cream, I don’t mind getting some more since mine has half melted.”

Scott looks down to the melted puddle of cream in the cup. “That’s one sad lookin’ ice cream.”

“Almost as sad as us, huh?” You mumble as you walk away to find the nearest trash can.

“So you guys are kinda serious then?” Zane questions, noticing how Scott looks away from him and toward you as you wipe your hands over your skirt before turning back.

“I mean yeah, we’re both sad, so why not be sad together?” Scott shrugs his shoulders as you return, giving him another reason to carry on with his day.

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davosmymaster · 4 years

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To the Ends of the Universe

A/N - Hello!!! How’s everyone doing? Just wanted to say thank you to the people who left a comment/liked the post about this one shot. I really hope this fic won’t dissapoint anyone.

Special thanks to @wonders-of-the-multiverse who has been there from the very first second. This fic initially started as both of us just daydreaming about the Master as usual and well, here we are XD. She was also my incredible beta reader.

As some of you know, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake. This is also my first fic on tumblr YAY

I really hope you have a good time reading this!!!

WARNINGS - Blood, mentions of nightmares, it’s pure fluff basically with hints of angst

PAIRINGS - Dhawan!Master x Reader (The Master x Reader)

WORD COUNT - 6,062 words

TO THE ENDS OF THE UNIVERSE

The dimly lit hallways exploded in a bright white light as you rushed to the medbay, the loud thumping of your heart stuck in your ears as you forced your legs to keep the pace for just one more second.

As Opposed to The Doctor’s, The Master’s TARDIS had always looked quite dark and unwelcoming, almost as if it wasn’t pleased with having anyone wandering around inside her. This time, however, a white flickering light guided you through the maze-like corridors to your destination. It was a big change from the dirty tricks she used to play during the first few months of your stay.

The floor under your shoes quaked as the ship took off, the harsh trembling sending your body forwards and your shoulder crashing against one of the metal doors. You rubbed the tender spot for a second, the worry that had overwhelmed you at the sight of blood quickly being replaced by a wave of pure annoyance and agitation.

“You could help me a bit here” you whispered through gritted teeth towards the TARDIS, the pain in your shoulder slowly dissolving into numbness.

A low groan seemed to come from the walls and the energy inside it. The metal disappeared as the door slid open to reveal the grey colour of the medbay.

“O-oh” you gasped “sorry”

Once inside the room and without a thought, your body automatically went for the second drawer in one of the cupboards.

Traveling the stars wasn’t as safe as you would have liked, and both the Master and yourself had gotten hurt more times than either of you remembered. As years and years passed you had surprised yourself in the most appropriate situations, becoming aware of the fact that you could find almost anything in the medbay at this point; even if you couldn’t understand the advanced medical technology a time lord could have gathered all over time and space for god-knows-how-long.

“I’m back!” you announced when the control room appeared in front of your eyes again. The figure of the Master was leaning against the console, eyes too focused on his own empty fists to be considered normal. His hair was more disheveled than usual, the fringe coated with blood as it brushed across the top of his eyes. “Master”

He jumped in place at the sound of your voice, one of his hands instinctively going to his coat’s pocket as a reflex. The wound on the side of his head was still bleeding, although the oozing flow of blood seemed to have lessened considerably since you had last seen him. His skin was much paler than usual and the dark rings under his eyes were looking much worse than that morning. You couldn’t help but think that he looked miserable, even beyond the blood staining his face and clothes.

“Are you alright?” you whispered. You took a step forward cautiously and didn’t look away from his eyes, trying to find all the answers to your questions in those big brown orbs.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He quickly backed off, putting as much space between the two of you as he could. You watched him wander the room, walking in one direction before changing his mind the next second. You clenched your hands around the medical supplies, the weight of all the things you were carrying reminded you why you had left the room in the first place.

“Have a seat somewhere” you demanded, although it sounded angrier than you had intended, almost like a bark. “You’re still bleeding”

“YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

Your heart hammered in your chest as a response. The silence fell between the two of you, the atmosphere suddenly running out of air. He looked like a madman right there in front of your incredulous eyes, bleeding and pointing at you like he pointed at his enemies after stating a threat. He had never glared at you with angry eyes before.

The Master had been acting odd for some time now. It all started with a change in his plans. One day, for no apparent reason, he took you on a trip to one of the most beautiful planets in the universe. The blue dunes of sand under an orange bright sun permanently eclipsed by one of its forty-three satellites. It seemed to be the perfect place to have some rest, at least it was until some of the natives recognized the Master and threatened to kill both of you.

Surely ‘the most beautiful’ didn’t imply ‘the safest’, as the few civilizations that lived there had been at war for more than a millennia. The only thing all those aliens had in common was, somehow, the desire for the Master’s dead body. When the TARDIS set off again, as far away from the planet as she could, you realized he had done the first good action in a long time: he had left behind two civilizations unified for a cause greater than themselves, to get rid of him once and for all.

Most of the time you couldn’t choose where to go, he always traveled whenever and wherever he needed in order to gather weapons or artifacts. Other times it was merely to have some fun, and on some rare occasions you would manipulate him to use his bloodthirstiness to do some justice.

Those trips weren’t as usual now, or maybe he just had stopped telling you the truth about his intentions. Burning planets, dangerous ships and poisonous waters became beautiful trips to sightseeing constellations and the most delicious dinners served next to the colorful Medusa Cascade. No matter how beautiful or safe the place seemed to be, there was always someone or something interrupting the dates you were trying to enjoy with the Master. Not that he would call them dates, anyway.

You used to read him like an open book. When he said “you’ll slow me down” in reality he meant “this is gonna turn nasty and I want you as far away from here as possible”. When he said he wanted to be alone, that was probably the last thing he wanted. And most of all you were almost a hundred percent sure that the strange words he whispered into your hair when he thought you were asleep meant “I love you” in Gallifreyan.

But you still hadn’t managed to persuade the TARDIS to get you a Gallifreyan dictionary with the words’ pronunciation. It was definitely a work in progress though, or it had been until you realized that the Master and yourself had been slowly growing apart for the last few months.

“(Y/N)” he said, his voice almost as low as a whisper “I- I shouldn’t have-”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have” you responded firmly. There were a lot of things you were willing to forgive him for, but yelling and mistreating you wasn’t one of them.

He groaned in pain then, drenching his fingertips in the blood clot in his temple. Your own heart shivered in your chest at the sight, concern quickly burning your insides as a white hot fire ran through your veins.

“Don’t touch it!”

You quickly walked the space keeping you apart and gave him a gentle smack to his wrist. He avoided your eyes, fixing them instead on the rolls of unopened gauze, alcohol, towels, and those strange alien band-aids that accelerated the healing process up to five times faster.

In a flurry of movement the Master moved, his hands quick to try and snatch them from you. But you had known him for a long time and knew exactly what he was like.

“I can do it myself, I’m not a child”

“I know you can-” you replied softly, your mind trying to convince itself that he was acting weirder than usual because you had underestimated the damage caused by the blow he had suffered to the head. “-but I’m not as sure about the rest of the sentence.”

He raised one eyebrow in response and you watched him try not to grimace in pain again.

“Here” he pulled away from you and walked to the front door of the TARDIS, opening it with ease. The old wood-like doors pulled back to reveal a black nothingness filled with thousands of distant flickering stars “I need some air.”

The Master took a seat at the border. His back rested against the doors, one of his legs dangling out into space, the other bent beneath him on the floor.

“You’ve definitely taken quite a hit.” you laughed, “There’s no air in outer space!”

He smirked with closed eyes, calmly breathing in and out through the nose. “Don’t tell a Time Lord what can and cannot be in outer space. Now get to work, if you’re not going to let me do it myself.”

You took a seat in front of him in the small space between his figure and the open door, one of your legs also dangling out into space. Leaning in, you pressed the gauze soaked in alcohol against the open wound to finally stop the bleeding. The Master clenched his jaw as much as he could, hissing in pain.

“Sorry” you apologized, “Keep the pressure on yourself, I’m gonna clean you up.”

He leered at you, the corner of his lips smirking lasciviously. You rolled your eyes, taking the wet towel in your hands and proceeding to clean the dry blood away from his chin and cheek. You cleaned his short beard the best you could and tried to get rid of the blood clots in his fringe, unsuccessfully to your dismay.

You could feel his eyes piercing yours, his fingers gently sliding across the skin of your shoulder, softly brushing your hair to get it out of the way. You fixed your eyes onto his own only to catch him avoiding your gaze, his attention stuck on staring out at the endless sight of the universe.

The Master kept his eyes fixed in nowhere in particular while you worked on his wound. You slowly opened one of the band-aids and tried to avoid his hair as much as possible, so you could place it on the side of his head; just above the temple. Now you just had to wait a few minutes to remove it. You had used those curious things several times before and although the healing was sped up, the thing never failed to leave some kind of scar. But even with those odds stacked against him, the Master was always lucky enough to never get scarred- likely thanks to his own unique biology.

You let yourself fall limp against the door and tilted your head to whatever the Master was looking for. The sight was beautiful as it had always been, millions of stars were almost swallowed by the black nothingness that separated planets, constellations, solar systems, and asteroids. And even at the incredible sight of all of this, you struggled to find something that could possibly retain the Master’s attention for more than a split second.

“Are you alright? You’ve seemed a little distant lately” you asked again.

Fixing your eyes on his features you searched for any sign of discomfort, either physical or emotional. At the lack of response your gaze started to wander, his hand catching your attention as he played with something inside of his coat pocket.

He was likely twisting and curling the TCE between his fingers. It was a trait you had noticed during your time travelling with him, his fingers fidgeting without fail whenever he was deep in thought. It happened every time, he would either tap four beats on any surface he could find or get something to entertain his restless fingers with, most of the time the ‘thing’ being his TCE.

The memories from the day filled your head then. He had looked distant the whole time, from the very first second he landed the TARDIS in one of the three planets that formed the solar system of one of the seventeen suns in Kasterborous. It was the closest you had ever been to Gallifrey and, still, it was far enough to not be able to admire the beautiful planet that had watched the Doctor and the Master grow into adults for centuries.

“I’m just planning my next scheme to trap the Doctor”

You nodded, although you didn’t believe a thing of what he said.

The words of what you had been thinking for endless nights poured from your lips before your mind could make up an excuse for his strange behavior, like all the other times. No one could blame you, after all you were just trying to protect your heart and mind from shattering.

“Is it me?” you asked finally, your voice betraying you and showing more emotion than what you had intended.

The Master suddenly turned his curious gaze to you. So he was paying attention then…

“Don’t you think I haven’t spotted how distant you’ve been lately” you added, although lately didn’t seem to be the right word. Obviously you had realized how much time he spent alone in the library and how his visits to the room you both shared were becoming less and less frequent. He always claimed he didn’t need to sleep as much, but you had been apart for enough time for you to notice that it was just a cheap excuse to not be there.

“Do you not want me to be here anymore?”

He frowned at your words.

“W-wha-”

“Are you still happy?” you asked with a hoarse voice, feeling the familiar weight of tears building up in your eyes at the low wheezing sound of the silence. You clenched your jaw and tried to swallow the tears. “Don’t lie to me.”

He just stared at you in silence for a second, mouthing like a fish out of water, until he finally blinked and tried to make a sound.

“I-is not-”

“Just-” you cut him off, feeling again like a lie was about to spill from his lips. “-you seem sad, distant, you’re not happy and you’re lying to me.”

“No-NO!” You snapped when he tried to talk again, “Don’t try to deny it, I can tell. I know you”

“So…” Anxiously you took a shallow shaky breath “It has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”

He pressed his lips together for a second but soon relaxed again. Changing his expression, the shimmer in his eyes shifted as he smirked slightly, the dark circles under his eyes failing to achieve the frightening look he was striving for. Maybe it would have worked with anyone else, but not with you.

“You humans are so vain, always thinking the universe spins around you.”

“I’m being serious, Koschei”

He took a breathless gasp, almost as if he had been hit. The name of a time lord was one of the biggest, best-kept secrets in the universe. Only a handful of people had known (or would ever know) the real name of the Doctor, and due to the Master’s lack of sympathy and his trouble to connect with people to an emotional level, even less had known or ever would know his.

‘How many?’ you had asked when he confessed his real name one night, his forehead pressing against your sweaty collarbone.

‘Only you’ he had whispered, right before kissing your shoulder “and some Time Lords at the Academy, but they are not important.” you heard him take a deep breath, his nose pressed against your throat “All dead now.”

Those times seemed out of reach. You even asked yourself if he regretted telling you.

“Not you.” he whispered defeatedly, his head falling to his lap “It could never be you.”

“What is it then?”

He shifted his whole body to face you, squirming in his place and unable to keep still. He removed his hand from his pocket, clasping your own tightly.

“It’s me.” he whispered in a choked breath and looked at your eyes “It’s so selfish of me to want you forever even though I know I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that!” you replied, struggling to believe the honesty in his voice and eyes. “You’re not serious. You can’t think like that after everything we’ve been through!”

He focused again on your hands firmly entwined.

“I believe it because… you’re so good” he looked away briefly towards the stars, before turning his gaze back to you again. “And people like me don’t get good people by their side or moments like this.”

The Master stroked your palms with his thumbs, suddenly finding them more interesting than his own thoughts. After a few moments he gave a shaky sigh, backing off once more.

“And if the past few attempts haven’t been proof of that, then I don’t know what could it be.”

“Proof?” you questioned, “Proof of what? And what do you mean by the past few attempts?”

He froze in place, and you frowned at his sudden stiffness. His shoulders tensed and body solid as he sighed deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as he tried and failed to relax his posture. The Master grumbled to himself in defeat, his hand dipping back into his pocket and playing with the TCE or whatever he had found to fiddle with once more.

“I-it’s nothing. Just rambling.” he shrugged in an attempt to consolidate his own thoughts, but not even you believed his body language. “You do it a lot, ramble I mean, ugh, it’s your fault. I’m getting your bad ha-”

“Does it have something to do with the last few stops?” you insisted, although you knew from personal experience that pressuring the Master to talk more than he wanted was never a good idea “All those… extravagant places, the two dates at the Medusa Cascade…”

“Dates?”

You would have laughed at his disgusted look if the atmosphere wasn’t so tense between the both of you. So you just gave him a crooked smile.

“Yes, Master. That’s what it’s called when a person takes another person for dinner to talk and have a good time, especially when the place is that fancy. I loved it even though...”

He watched silently as you told him about the whole date and everything that happened afterwards, despite him being there by your side. Although the dinner had started off with good intentions, it had quickly slipped into a tone of awkwardness through no fault of his own. So much so that the chasing and ‘running for your lives’ had been very much welcomed, although he didn’t notice it. He even apologized once you got into the TARDIS. It was fair to say that he was beyond annoyed the first time.

A month later, when the second date was just another failed attempt in another restaurant in the Medusa Cascade, he had been furious. That was one of the reasons why the console room (or the living room of the house the TARDIS was disguised as) was even messier than usual. He had broken some chairs and cups before following your steps as you had stormed out to the library.

The Master realized as he watched you talk that there would be no such thing as a perfect time. He silently admired the star light reflecting in your eyes and highlighting your features, oblivious to everything else. He couldn’t believe the fact that fate had found a way for both your souls to meet and connect. It didn’t matter in the end how much he had tried to distance himself from any other form of life in the universe, because at the end of the day you had always been there, always. He didn’t believe in fate, but when he looked back at the few possibilities there was for him to meet a person that he truly cared about, it was hard not to succumb at the idea of a force greater than himself pulling the strings to figure everything out.

Even if he dared to think for a split second about not seeing you again, he wouldn’t be able to keep his pieces together. The Master wanted to do the right thing for once, and if fate surprisingly existed, he was certain it absolutely despised him. Countless times he had tried to have a full minute in silence with you, just enjoying each other’s company with a beautiful view, and the same amount of times his plans had been ruined by someone or something trying to either kill him, obtain revenge or obtain revenge via killing him. Until that precise moment he had never had regrets about all the people he had annoyed.

He wondered what he could do now. Kasterborous was the last place on the list, and he was beyond exhausted from trying. On the other hand, he couldn’t give up on you. His best dreams were always about you, but so were his worst nightmares. And whenever and wherever he was he could always be sure about two things: his love for you and his conviction that as long as your heart was beating, so would his.

How had he expected to make it perfect when your lives had always been so messy? After all, that was the whole basis of your lives: chaos, adventure, nothing ever occurring according to plan. And still, everything seemed to always find a way to fall into place. Not even the tardis had felt like a home before you, but now home seemed to be in his hands whenever he held yours, and he would be so lost if your hand ever left his.

A sudden current of hope swallowed him whole.

“Travel the universe with me.” He whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his pleading. However, your laugh died with ease when you turned around to find a pair of saddened eyes.

You leaned in and stroked his beard in your palm, using a few seconds to admire his lips and features. Sighing, you repositioned yourself with both of your hands in his lap, your eyes staring intensely at his own as you held his attention on yourself.

“I already travel with you, idiot.” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, “What’s wrong?”

The Master took three shallow breaths, his sight lost somewhere in your hands above the fabric of his trousers. You moved away from him again, gazing worriedly to how distant he seemed to be from his own flesh. It was at that moment that his hand emerged from the concealment of his thick purple coat pocket, his fist trembling and knuckles a stark white colour.

An idea quickly surged in your brain, and you fought to swallow the dry lump in your throat at the fear of something serious happening to him.

However, that fear quickly vanished when his fist relaxed and his fingers slowly curled open; revealing what was inside for the light of day to see.

For a split second you thought he wasn’t holding anything, but then your mind acknowledged the shape of a ring sitting proudly in front of your incredulous eyes. The ring was so tiny in his large hand that you couldn’t properly see it until his fist was completely open and flat, it seemed almost a crime to keep something so beautiful concealed in the shadows.

The ring was silver, encrusted with white circular gemstones that you didn’t even bother to try and name as without a doubt they weren’t from Earth. The central gem shined a dim light almost invisible until he lent his hand to the side. For a second you could have sworn you had seen a fine black line inside of it, the thought quickly dismissed as a trick of the light as your eyes filled with unstoppable tears once again.

The only thing that could make you look away from the small piece of jewelry was a gentle squeeze to your shoulder, that and the fact that the Master had quickly stowed the ring away in his coat pocket once more. Your trembling body kept your eyes locked on the empty space it had once inhabited regardless, that was until you heard his panicked voice breaking through the loud thumping of your heart in your ears.

The Master had positioned both his hands against your cheeks which were now wet with your tears, his thumb tracing the contour of your cheek and drawing you away from your reverie. Only then did you dare to look at him again.

“I-I’m sorry. I-” he took shallow breaths, blinking away the tears forming in his eyes at light speed. “I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, please. Don’t cry.”

“W-” you tried to ask, but the words in your mouth didn’t seem to appear fast enough in your mind “W-what’s that?”

He leaned in and pressed his forehead to your own, still wiping away the tears that littered your cheeks with his thumbs. Even from that angle you could discern how one tear slipped away from his right eye, licking gently at the hot skin behind only to die in the corner of his lips.

“Nothing.” He stated with a shuddered exhale, suddenly cutting himself off by chewing his lip “It’s nothing!”

“It’s a ring!” You cried in return.

From all the things you expected from the Master, marriage was very low on the list. He despised most planets and sassily commented about any tradition and culture that wasn’t his own. You had never even bothered to think about marriage, especially after knowing that weddings on Gallifrey were mostly arranged, a mere game to obtain political power and status amongst the community. In Gallifrey weddings weren’t enjoyed and at the end of the day, they didn’t mean anything either; it was just a convenient tool for both parties.

But you weren’t a Time Lord.

You were human.

Just one more human traveling the stars.

During your travels, you had learned that the meaning of marriage was a timeless concept to the future of the human race, no matter how long someone had been away from Earth or how many millenniums had passed since the Solar System had been destroyed to dust. Some things simply stayed the same.

So he knew what marriage meant to the human race, and most importantly, he knew what marriage meant to you, for the both of you.

“No” he tried “No, it’s…”

“Don’t lie to me” you growled, pushing his shoulders back “Don’t you dare lie to me. I’m tired of getting pushed away. You always, always, do that. And it hurts”

You buried your head in your knees, your arms wrapping around yourself tightly as tears silently escaped your eyes without remedy. It happened regardless of how you felt, were you happy? nervous? sad? You didn’t even know at this point. The thing with the Master was that he was always so hard to comprehend, despite all the years of traveling and living together. In the end he was always true to his spontaneous, chaotic natures, never failing to surprise you at the least expected moment.

The Master moved closer, this time pressing his forehead to your shoulder. A second after you felt your own shirt getting damp, your heart tightening in your chest even more, if that was even possible. Knowing that not only was he only trying not to cry in front of you, he was also trying to hide, trying to find somewhere safe to let himself break. It was hard not to think about how much exhaustion and courage it was taking him not to get on his feet and run as far as he could.

He always had struggled to put his emotions into words, and expressing the depth of his feelings for you was still something he wasn’t quite used to. Even though he had never said I love you openly, you also knew he didn’t need to.

The Master was the kind of person whose acts always said more than his words. The way he supported you in everything you wanted to do, the soft whispers to wake you up and his habit of making a single cup of coffee in the morning just for you (mostly because he didn’t like the taste). You had spent an endless amount of nights in his arms when you couldn’t sleep, countless days curled up tightly next to him when sickness took over your body. You didn’t remember what nightmares felt like anymore, you hadn’t had one since the first night he shared with you. Yet still, you preferred them to the terror swallowing your body whole when his own nightmares woke you up in the middle of the night.

“Of course it’s a ring.” he finally admitted, “Im selfish enough to not want you with anyone else or anywhere else. I want you here for as long as we have.”

His confession was sealed with a feather light kiss against the exposed skin of your neck. “I’ve been trying to ask you for a long time, but it never works out. I fear this will have to do”

When you pulled away, he quickly wiped all the tears from his face in a rapid and almost angry manner. But even with his cheeks partially dry, you could still see the redness tinted around the edges of his eyes and the tip of his nose, still spot the remnants of tears clinging to his eyelashes.

You pulled his hands away from his face and cleared away the final tears that slipped across his cheeks. A choked sob tearing from his throat as he tried to take a steadying breath. You could clearly see the conflict he waged with himself, especially so when his hands turned into fists and his jaw clenched so tightly you feared he would break a tooth.

Pressing the tip of your thumb against his lip, you caressed the soft skin you were dying to kiss. Looking deeply into his eyes, you could tell he seemed to be finally paying full attention.

“Look at me.”

“I’m looking at you.”

“No, you’re not.” You exclaimed, “You’re thinking, not looking. Stop torturing yourself in that head of yours and just… look at me and see.”

Frown lines marked his face and you took the chance to get rid of the white band-aid that stuck to his forehead; revealing the pristine healed skin underneath.

“What do you want me to see?” The Master ventured after a moment of silence.

“How much I love you.” You brushed the tip of his nose with yours and slid your hand against the soft hairs in his jaw. “You need to see it, and believe…”

His short chuckle was melody to your ears.

“It's impossible not to see it, love.” He smiled sadly, your skin shivering under his touch as he slid two fingers under the fabric of the shirt’s collar. Lazily he outlined your collarbone, his hands roaming and exploring your skin as though it was an uncharted planet.

You smiled to yourself, knowing it was yet again another sign of his nervous quirks; the constant need to entertain his fingers with something.

“It’s there every time I look at you.” The Master continued, “And unfortunately, I never believe what I see.”

Somehow, you already knew what he was going to say, the words nestled deep within your heart. Closing your eyes, you gently pressed your lips against his own, the moment brief and chaste before backing off almost immediately afterwards.

“I’ll have to make you then.”

Leaning forwards your hand reached outwards, pulling the pocket of his coat round as you brazenly dug down into his pocket. It wasn't hard to find the tiny piece of jewelry, but it was definitely harder to free your wrist from the Master’s grip.

“Please…” he begged with pleading eyes “What are you…?”

Eventually, and without a word, he let your wrist go. You licked your lips, feeling the coldness of the ring nestled against your own palm but too afraid to open your fist to give it a proper look.

Taking a deep breath, you finally encouraged yourself to do what had to be done.

Even before giving the ring a second look, you slowly slid the piece of jewellery on to the place it belonged; where it would always belong. Then with baited breath you drew your gaze carefully across every inch of it, committing every shine, every detail to memory. The circular gem in the middle caught your attention for a lot longer than when you had initially seen it, and you found that the more you fixed your eyes on it, the clearer the thin black lines became inside of the gem.

You could tell it was gallifreyan, the entwined circles were hard to mistake for any other language, the black dots inside the circumferences were almost impossible to see. You struggled to find the meaning, even with the knowledge from the classes that The Master had given you in the past.

He seemed to be holding his breath when your eyes watched his features again. Noticing your eyes on him, he swallowed loudly. His whole figure relaxed. His shoulders falling back against the wood-like door, his constant frown fading and hands falling limp in his lap. With nifty fingers brushed away his fringe in an attempt to remove the hair from his eyes.

He was clearly overwhelmed by the situation and you did understand his reaction, after all he had been trying to propose for a long time.

“What does it mean?”

His grin was the biggest he had ever made, his eyes recovering that special shine you hadn’t seen in months.

“Why do I even bother trying to teach you?”

“Why do I even bother treating your wounds if you make me want to punch you in the face afterwards?”

“Uhm… let’s see…” He jokingly teased. Catching your left hand, he brought it closer to his eyes, his gaze fixated on the ring perched on your finger.

With a steady voice and growing confidence, The Master pronounced a series of sounds that you couldn’t quite comprehend, your mind still flaring with recognition for them as the words he always whispered in your hair during the night.

Before you could protest about not speaking gallifreyan, he promptly translated.

“Hold my hand to the ends of the universe.” He took your hand and gently pressed his lips to the ring and the skin around it.

“This is my promise” he finished with a whisper.

Your breath was caught in your throat. You only remembered you needed to say something when he warily gazed to your own incredulous eyes. You had no idea what he would decipher in your gaze, as your own torrent of emotions were hard to decode even by yourself. But you caught sight of the huge amount of hope installed in his eyes and your heart hammered in your chest at the sight.

“Yes, I do.”

The Master chuckled, your attention catching a glimpse of the happiness exploding in his eyes. It was like watching a supernova explode in before you. He let his head fall to your intertwined hands once again, sliding his fingers to tighten his grip around your own as he held your hand.

“I wanted to propose to you.” he smirked, “Not marry you on the spot. We have time for that.”

You chuckled and he lent in, his lips gracing your cheek as he kissed you once more. With his breath hot against your skin, the Master released a shaky, relieved whisper.

“Thank you, love.”

With a gentle touch, his hands wandered to the small of your back urging you to lay down on top of him. You followed his guidance with little resistance, hands pressed against his chest as you could hear the rapid beating of his hearts despite the numerous layers of clothing he always wore.

Excited at the sound, you shifted your hand directly above his hearts, the gemstones in the ring sparkling and reflecting the flickering light of the stars on your finger.

“I love you.” You whispered as his hands traced circular lines in your back. He made an amused sound and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too,” He answered without a moment's hesitation.

#dhawan!master x reader #the master x reader #master x reader #doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfic #doctor who x reader #sacha dhawan #the master #dhawan!master

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skinnyghosttears · 3 years

Text

April 13, 2021

2:10 am

Burned 500kcal. I wanted to burn 1000 but I feel so sick and I cant keep workout with this nausea. I feel like Im gonna vomit soon, I cant literally see or just think about any food without feeling worse so i really need to go to sleep. I planned tomorrow meals, Im under 400kcal and I'll try to burn at least 1000, but I want to try and skip lunch, telling mom I still dont feel good and I prefer just some tea. I should be really cool to stay lower than the plan. I checked the scale and the number was so disgusting.

I hope to sleep good.

12:57 pm

I struggled to fall asleep but this morning mom fell in my lie and I will skip lunch. I just get up, Im not sure I will exercise today since my brother will be at home all the time but I can walk at least. Yesterday I found spatzle at the store (ifk how many type of them exist but those have 157kcal x 100g so they are better than pasta) so Idk if I'll eat those or just some veggies. During the afternoon I want to try some chips (87kcal x 20g, the entire bag) but I'll wait, rn Im not hugry and if I will not crave them too much I will just eat them tomorrow. Yesterday I started my fast at 8:44pm, so I can do 20h for sure.

Im scared of the scale rn, I feel really bloated. I have a counter for my no-binge streak, yesterday I ate more but it was not a real binge, since I just picked fruit that I was not supposed to eat and added a piece of bread for my soup. I consider binging when I lost control so I think I will not reset the streak.

2:05 pm

Had my tea, it just made me feel nauseous again. I said to mom that maybe this is caused by me eating more that I planned but she took it "well" since anxiety already made me eat like nothing for a week some years ago. We have a lot of veggies at home so I can eat only them at dinner (at this point I want to avoid the chips) but I was thinking about no eating at dinner too, like, faking to eat a couple of bites and then said Im so nauseous again and just fast until tomorrow. If Im really hungry I can eat the veggies, Im just thinking about all the options.

Mom is going out so its time to walk!

4:12 pm

Burned 200kcal walking, mom sent a message asking how Im feeling and I told her I tried to eat a rice cake but the nausea still come back. At this point I can reach 40h with my fast, It will be over exactly for tomorrow lunch so... maybe...

Even if the nausea will go away I think I'll fake it until the weekend so I have an excuse for eat less.

6:01 pm

Thought about yesterday dinner and my stomach just sent another nausea wave, bitch wth. I talked with mom and she said that I should eat if and what I want, so I'll try to drink some tea for dinner and well, fake to try a biscuit. Tomorrow she's not be here for lunch so I can trick my brother too, so I can extend my fast until dinner if I want because for when she'll be back I'll just say I ate something, and then I'll eat veggies and one or two rice cakes for dinner. This sounds good. Later I'll go out for a walk with my dogs so I'll burn some calories again, and then after everyone went to sleep I can do the same.

8:08 pm

Mom told me that tomorrow she wants to go out for a couple of commissions and Im supposed to drive but uh, after over a day of fasting? Idk bro this looks like a mistake :') I'll try to find an excuse.

9:12 pm

Tricked everyone for dinner, I think I'll just reach lunch time tomorrow and then decide if I feel to continue the fast since I'm already tempted to stop. Wathever I'll decide, Im gonna cook some cucumbers and peppers in a pan an eat one or two rice cakes, or the rice cakes and some light cheese. I can fake a lunch without wasting food since no one will check in the fridge and no one eat rice cakes here, just me.

Maybe Im gonna walk later :')

10:23 pm

Stepped on the scale and holy shit. I hope its just water. I was doing good, its not possible that this is real weight. I just want to cry.

10:57 pm

Yook a long shower, Im incredibly bloated and I dont want to look ay myself.

It makes sense that maybe my body is holding water because im not eating at all? And I ate more than usual last time I did? Nvm dont mind me, Im just exausted and I want to sleep.

12:20 am

I cant sleep and I feel hungry and nauseous at the same time, wth...

#ana #proana #thinspiration #thinspo #thin #skinny #ed

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koinoyokvn · 3 years

Text

* / 𝐈 𝐍 𝐓 𝐑 𝐎 𝐃 𝐔 𝐂 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍

* CODY CHRISTIAN, CISMALE + HE/HIM | you know BRADLEY ‘BOOG’ RADWELL, right? they’re TWENTY-FOUR, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, SIX YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to INFRA-RED BY THREE DAYS GRACE like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole late night 'open’ signs flickering, a dirty car filled with empty coffee cups & a dopey smile with sleepy, drooping eyes thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 4, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

back at it again at krispy kreme — but here’s my second mad lad n after this i will start coming to everyone w my hands open for some plots n interactions <3

trigger warnings: child abuse tw & self-harm tw / omg forgot to add hospital n death tw too

* / 𝐁 𝐀 𝐒 𝐈 𝐂 𝐒

hair: dirty blonde

eyes: blue

build: broad & toned

height: 5′8″ or 173 cm

weight: 163 lbs or 74 kg

distinguishing features: a hand tattoo on his left hand of a sunset, a sleeve tattoo on his right forearm of a yellow and green dragon, a tattoo of a jorogumo (spider-woman) in front of a waterfall on his right shoulder blade, red and white chrysanthemums on his left calf, a light blue ‘x’ on his left collarbone, and dozens of uniquely designed band-aid tattoos splattered on his biceps and thighs

distinguishing style: hoodies and jeans for days, he’s a bit of a collector of ‘irving’ tourist merch, other than that, toques and plaid and chains with darker palettes

* / 𝐇 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓 𝐎 𝐑 𝐘

bradley was born in a small town in maine. at the time, everything he thought was normal for a child to endure. now that he’s older, he knows it isn’t. growing up, he was a trained liar. he doesn’t like lying now but can spit one out faster and smoother than he’d like to admit. his mother was naive and so young and his father was cruel and lived in the world only for himself. never a good combination.

there were a lot of times bradley would go to school with no food. he would always say he rushed out of the house and forgot because he slept in. his father spent all the grocery money to drink. bradley would fall asleep at school. he would always say it’s because he’s scared of the dark. he was actually scared of his father and would spend the night in his bedroom closet that could lock. bradley would cry and flinch at loud noises and the sound of glass crashing. he would say it’s because he’s just like a deer, easily scared. his father would throw things at him if he so much as stepped out of line (but bradley never knew what that line was). he would endure it all for his mother, who would sometimes come into his room, scoop him up in her arms when things calmed down, and sing to him. it’s these moments he’d remember fondly, the moments where she managed to keep some money for herself and get a good supper for the two.

it truly felt like it was him and his mother against the world. there were a few times where bradley would slip up, say something wrong at school, make an offhand comment about home to his friend, and child services would get involved. however, his father would clean up for these visits. his mother could’ve been an amazing movie actress, as well. bradley was also on his way there — but it was his mistake that they all pretended. he would always get punished for it later.

sometimes the arguing would get too much. when he cried enough tears from inside the closet, he would run. run to his uncle’s house. he’d ask to stay for a few days. his uncle always said yes. but this would always spell trouble in the long run. his uncle was rowdy, always trying to get his sister out of such a terrible situation, and would butt his head whenever he got a chance. his uncle would often make the fighting worse. all bradley needed was a break, though, he promised.

he was almost finished high school. he took up odd jobs if he wasn’t in school so he didn’t pass with stellar grades or anything. some were even impressed that he managed to end up on the graduation list at all. he had saved up enough money, between him and his mother, to eventually leave his father. there was a light at the end of the tunnel. but, once again, the fighting became too much.

this time, he stayed at a friend’s house. he always had his money on him. he couldn’t trust the nooks and crannies of that house, his father would always worm his slimy fingers into them. he always blamed himself for not staying at his uncle’s that night... or even at home. because this time, the fighting really did become too much and things went too far.

a frantic call from his uncle in the dead of the night sent bradley on a frenzy. his father had beaten his mother so badly that she was hospitalized. put into a coma with extensive head trauma. bradley left his friend’s on account of emergency but didn’t end up going to the hospital. no, no, no. it was the only time bradley could call himself his father’s son.

that same night, his father died in a car crash. the police ruled it as a collision involving drunk driving. though, there were damages that pointed towards another vehicle ramming into the car. there were no other vehicles on scene when they arrived and the road wasn’t monitored to pull up security footage. however, the only next of kin his father had was bradley and his mother. everything fell onto bradley.

his father, at least, had some funds stashed away in a bank account. it was enough to cover the funeral. but not enough to cover the hospital fees. and bradley felt like he was going insane existing in the house he grew up in. he was going insane just being in the same town he grew up in. everybody seemed to know his business.

so, like he and his mother promised, he ran away. his uncle is the only one who knows his whereabouts now and bradley made him promise not to tell anyone else. but, instead of taking the whole amount, bradley only took half of what he and his mother saved. he used the other half to go towards his mother’s hospital bills.

bradley, now telling people to call him boog, drifted for a bit. picking up odd jobs for a week or two to feed himself. he needed to find a new home. he needed to be anywhere else but maine. now, he thought about the glamourous cities but felt like it didn’t suit him. eventually, he came to irving. and he liked it. so he stayed here.

boog is called boog because he was a bit of a snotty kid. he was constantly ill with the common cold, linked directly to his home situation. he often had sinus infections because of it. so, mean kids would often call him ‘booger’. eventually, booger became boog and it was just a part of him. he was a laidback individual and the nickname lost its insulting meaning by the time he reached high school but by then, most people called him by his surname. bradley feels too personal.

boog works two jobs, as well as doing several odd jobs around the neighborhood he settled in. he stocks at the local grocery store, working 3pm to 11pm. he also works at a midnight diner, working from 12am to 8am. he gets some sleep for the morning, then gets right back to it. on his days off, he’s often seen mowing other people’s lawn, cleaning cars and houses, and doing small fix-it jobs around properties. he’s a busybody for sure. but not only does he have to support himself, he has to make sure the hospital bills for his mother are being paid. after all these years, it’s still him and his mother against the world.

in the six years of being in irving, boog developed some nasty coping mechanisms. any time work became too overwhelming or he couldn’t make a payment and was faced with a late fee, bradley felt like a failure to the point where he would engage in self-harm. he was alone mostly, other than at work or out with his friends, so it was a lot of time to wrestle with this idea that he wouldn’t be enough to keep his mother alive. he would cut his biceps and thighs, places he could easily conceal his scars with t-shirts or shorts. he would cut at work in the men’s bathroom or cut in the closet of his bedroom. familiar places, places where he could hide.

however, it got out of hand when he cut too deep on his thigh and it affected the way he walked. the visible limp raised concern from coworkers, friends, and neighbors. finally done with lying, he admitted to self-harm to those he trusted. his friends encouraged him to go to counselling and to reach out when he felt the urge.

it’s been a year since he’s last self-harmed. since then, he’s covered his scars with band-aid tattoos, each of them a design from someone he’s felt close enough to tell about his progress. there are still some to be covered, but he’s always mused there’s always friends to be made that could help him cover it up.

* / 𝐏 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 𝐎 𝐍 𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐓 𝐘

boog is hardworking and determined and doesn’t hesitate to push his limits. of course, this all comes to his physicality and his work ethic. he’s not all too bright, otherwise. he can’t contest life’s many questions, he’s too busy memorizing regular orders, the truck order for the next night, and what his friend’s favourite things are. he’s a very present individual, in that he can’t worry about the future or the past too much. and above all else, boog is kind.

he never asks for anything in return for the deeds he does. he always repays a favour. and he always extends a helping hand. he thinks being a neighborly person is the pinnacle of humanity and does his best to emulate that. however, that makes for some clashes with his dull mind, as he can often be mistaken or say the wrong thing. his gold heart does make up for his lack of brightness.

boog has also learned patience. patience with the world, patience with himself. he didn’t get angry much before but when he did, it was pent up and built over years of being complacent. it was never a good thing to lose his temper. however, over the course of his regular counselling, he has learned to be more self-aware and express his frustrations in a healthy manner. his shoulders still bear a lot of burden but at least, he can learn to take off the load and rest for a while before putting it back on.

* / 𝐂 𝐎 𝐍 𝐍 𝐄 𝐂 𝐓 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐒

band-aid crew — this person has designed a band-aid tattoo for boog. he reached out to this person during a time of recovery and trusted him with his journey thus far. this person could have been someone he met at work, through friends, or they live on the same block as him. boog counted and needs 27 band-aids to cover all his scars and is confident that he can get them all covered through others’ artwork. his uncle and nieces already made their mark, and boog designed one himself. ( 0/22 )

upstanding citizen — this person is the parental figure that boog never had and didn’t realize he needed until he befriended this person. they fuss over him and make sure he’s gotten enough sleep. they bring him coffee to work and invite him over for dinner. in return, boog does the same. he tries hard to cook for them— though he’s not great at it. he brings them gifts that reminded him of them. ( 0/1 )

intimacy buddies — boog is kind of pure in that he’s someone who wants to make sure people feel fulfilled. it first started off as a joke, that on the chance that they felt lonely, boog would be of service. however, boog’s pretty dependable and he hides no ulterior motive. so, he cuddles them for hours while watching movies, he holds their hands as they walk through the beach, and he sleeps with them when they can’t stand to sleep alone. he runs his hands through their hair upon request. however, they’re still friends and as thick as thieves. ( 0/3 )

amicable exes — it’s hard for boog to hold grudges. they come in white hot flashes of anger and they leave just as quickly. he’s learned to no longer stew in it. when this relationship falls apart, boog can admit his shortcomings and understand that they just weren’t meant for each other. that doesn’t stop boog from caring about them any less. they’re friends now and maybe friends was always the better option. ( 0/1 )

SPECIAL MENTIONS: as always, i fiend for all sorts of friendly and fwb connections! i also think a rival connection wld b interesting but we wld hav to lay some groundwork for sure!

#irvingintro #files.#files: bradley radwell.#child abuse tw #self harm tw #hospital tw #death tw

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jungle321jungle · 4 years

Text

Virgil’s Guide To Avoid Accidentally Falling In Love With Your Boss’ Boss: Step Four

Virgil’s just trying to fake his way through life, but when he finds it hard to shake his hot boss’ boss’s attention- on account of their adopted sons being twins- things get complicated. Ao3

~~~~

Step Four: Don’t Bond With His Kids

Days had passed and while Roman seemed happy once more, Virgil still felt as if he needed to do something for his son. To show that he really truly cared and loved him. He just wasn’t sure what.

He couldn’t afford to take him anywhere too special. Not with his car currently being the bane of his existence. Perhaps he could bake Roman something special? No, Roman would simply be upset that he wasn’t included in the baking. Maybe he could have a “Roman Day” and let the boy pick whatever he wanted to do?

He paused considering what Roman would ask him for when a voice cut in his psyche.

“Hey Storm?” Michael asked bringing Virgil’s attention back to the meeting. “Can you run this report up to Mr. Ekans? Get some feedback?”

Virgil blinked in surprise as all the eyes in the conference room turned to him, but he nodded and took the folder and headed out.

The secretary- Lian- looked up as he approached.

“I was sent to get feedback on a report,” Virgil explained.

She nodded and reached for the phone but hesitated as she did so, “May I say something Mr. Storm?”

“Sure.”

“Mr. Ekans has been through a lot- and I understand it’s not really my place, but can I ask you to be respectful of that?”

Virgil quite frankly had no clue what she was talking about, but he nodded nonetheless, “Of course.”

She nodded satisfied and reached for the phone, “Mr. Storm is here for revisions.”

Inside Dee sat at his desk and gave Virgil a casual wave as he walked in. “You usually don’t bring things to me for revisions.”

Virgil shrugged and sat across from him and handed over the folder, “I was asked to be the runner today.”

Dee nodded and took the folder and grabbed a pen and began to look over the report while Virgil scrolled on his phone. But after a while Dee gave a frustrated sigh.

“Can I be honest with you?”

Virgil looked up, “Using corrections would be harder if you weren’t.”

Dee’s expression was serious as he ran a hand through his slicked back hair, “This... this is trash. Everything about it. It’s not in the format I want, there are spelling mistakes, math is wrong, and more. It’s like it was written in two minutes. Like tell me, what- what were you thinking? Are you joking with me or something? ‘Cause you know I don’t like to joke about work. And this needs to go in my report to the CEO tomorrow. Talk to me Virgil, what the hell happened?”

Virgil’s eyebrows knitted in confusion, “How would I know?”

Dee gave a groan, “If you don’t know that goes to show this was written in two minutes... Just be straight with me, did you put any effort into writing this?”

“I didn’t write it.”

“What?”

“I didn’t write it,” Virgil said again. “Michael was supposed to write it with input from Jeff.”

Dee raised an eyebrow and pulled over the cover page for Virgil to see. “It puts you as the sole author.”

“But I didn’t... I’m just the messenger...” he took the page and looked at it confused, before something caught his attention. “It also spells my name wrong... it’s Vigil Storm.”

“...So it does.”

There was a long pause before Dee collected all the papers in front of him. “I don’t know what’s going on, but this needs to be redone before morning. I’m gonna need to put you on fixing this, because I know you’ll actually do it well regardless of it you did or didn’t write it.”

“It’s gonna take all day, and then some,” Virgil realized quietly.

“Then start.”

Virgil gave a sigh, “Yes sir.”

~~~~

The sound of chattering children found its way to pierce Virgil’s concentration. He looked away from the computer screen and it’s numbers and letters which blurred together as the sound grew louder.

“I thought he had two kids?”

Virgil shook his head as he tried to focus once more. He was almost done, the math just wasn’t adding up. Once he fixed that he was done. He was free.

“Dad!”

The sound of Roman’s voice caused Virgil to look up and turn to see his son standing there beaming. Surprised he pulled his son in for a hug and looked up at Dee who lingered in the cubicle entrance, Remus and Logan by his side.

“It’s almost done,” he informed Dee. “I gotta fix a math issue I know is there, but I don’t know how I’m missing it. I’m just barely off.”

Dee nodded and moved closer to look over Virgil’s shoulder at the spreadsheet, “Oh I see what you mean. Those two should equal and they’re not.”

“It’s because you have a seven there instead of a one.”

Virgil looked to Logan had taken a post on his other side. “It’s here,” he said pointing at the screen.

Virgil’s eyes scanned for a moment before he did as the boy said, “Logan you are a genius. Thank you. I have been staring at this for over an hour.”

Logan seemed taken aback by the praise, but he didn’t say anything so Virgil hurriedly finished everything up. “I’ll send it to you now,” he told Dee.

“I’ll look it over after dinner,” he promised.

“What's for dinner?” Roman asked Virgil.

“Whatever I decide to order.”

“I want Chinese!”

“I want Chinese too,” Remus tossed in.

“We have food,” Dee disagreed.

“We don’t have Chinese. Why don’t they come over for Chinese and then you two can work together?”

“Virge?”

Virgil shrugged, “You're driving.”

“Then let's go, we can order in the car.”

~~~~

“I’m sorry for being hard on you today,” Dee apologized suddenly. “And I suppose my constant checking in to see how it was going didn’t help.”

Virgil shook his head, “You're my boss. It’s to be expected now and then, and I have a feeling that you would’ve been a lot worse had it not been me...”

He shrugged, “I am guilty of playing favorites... And I guess that’s why everyone in your department has been giving you a hard time.”

Virgil looked at him in surprise, “What?”

“I’m not stupid Virgil. I talked to Nadine, she said that recently a lot of people have been treating you wrongly lately because of how I play favorites. They thought you were trying to one up them for a promotion. And that’s why they put your name on that report, right?”

“I...”

“You don’t have to confirm or deny it,” Dee told him. “Just know, that I know.”

“Dad, can we just have a sleepover?” Roman asked looking away from where he and Remus were playing some game on the floor.

“We need to go home at some point,” Virgil answered, grateful for the distraction.

“Yeah, but Mr. Dee is gonna drive us home and then he has to drive us to school in the morning. If we stay here it's less driving!”

Virgil paused to look for a flaw in that logic, to look for a way to not think about the implication of sleeping in his hot boss’ boss’ house.

“You could stay,” Dee stated and Virgil thought he might die of embarrassment then and there. “Well Remus can give Roman some clothes. As for you- you’re skinny sure- but you could definitely fit my clothes.”

“Sleepover!” The twins shouted in excitement.

Virgil was given the guest bedroom down the hall, and a clean set of pajamas to wear.

“We can pick you out an outfit for tomorrow in the morning,” Dee told Virgil bringing in a set of towels and setting them on a dresser. “You’d look great in one of my suits.”

Virgil hoped he wasn’t blushing too deeply at the comment, “My rent is less than one of your suits.”

Dee chuckled, “Just don't stain it and it’s fine.”

“My son is a walking stain.”

“Yet another thing he and Remus have in common.”

“Are they all asleep?”

“It took a while, but yes they are.”

“Good... good.”

“Well, I’ll let you be... goodnight Virgil.”

“Night Dee.”

~~~~

Virgil had been on the way back from the bathroom when he found Logan standing in the hall. The boy was standing outside the room which was Dee’s, but he didn’t seem to have any urge to knock.

“Did you need him?” Virgil asked.

Logan blinked up at him before he frowned and moved away from the door, “No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Virgil decided not to push at first, and instead moved to walk off when he noticed a tear in Logan’s eye.

“Is something wrong?” He asked squatting down to look Logan in the eye.

Logan shifted his weight, but didn’t respond.

“You might feel a bit better if you to tell me or your dad, but if you don’t want to that's okay too.”

“You and Roman are all Dad and Remus care about anymore. He even had us stay with you...” Logan said after a pause. “I was mean, why won’t you just hate me and go away?”

Virgil’s mouth opened and closed in surprise, “I would never hate you. And I’m sorry that-”

“Go away! Papa is gone so it was just supposed to be the three of us! But now you and Roman are here, and I don't want another dad to make Dad sad again! I just wanna- wanna-” the tears which had been welling in his eyes finally fell and Virgil felt his heart break. He wanted to pull the boy into a hug, but he had a feeling Logan would only shove him away to make it worse.

“I’m sorry Logan,” Virgil said quietly. “I didn’t mean to take time away from you. But I promise I won’t hate you. And I’m not sure if I can just go away, but know that I’m not trying to take anyone’s spot okay? And I know Roman isn't either. He’s just excited that he has a brother... and actually I was hoping that you’d spend some time with him so he could have two.”

“They don’t want me around,” Logan disagreed through his tears.

“That’s not true. I’m sure they both want you around, just like your dad does, and just like I do.”

“You do?” he asked rubbing at his eyes.

“Of course I do. I would still be at work right now, if you didn’t show me what I did wrong. And if you still don’t believe me, then how about tomorrow everyone plays a game that you pick? Okay?”

Logan nodded, “Okay.”

“Can I get a hug?”

Logan moved forward to give him a hug which Virgil happily returned. After a pause he stood and took Logan’s hand and led the boy back to his bedroom.

“Thank you Mr. Virgil,” Logan told him as Virgil tucked him back in.

“You can just call me Virgil. Night Logan.”

“Good night.”

Dee was sitting on the bed when he got back.

“You are magical,” he declared.

“What?”

“You and Logan. It's amazing it takes Logan forever to warm up to people and you accomplished it in under five minutes.”

Virgil shrugged, “Well, he was crying. And I suggest you talk to him come morning.”

Dee nodded and stood, “I will, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re an actual gift.”

Virgil tried not to blush, “It's fine. I’m sure you’d do the same for Roman.”

Dee didn’t seem to have heard him, “And I thought I was falling for you before.”

A pause. “What?”

“I said, ‘and I thought I was falling for you before.’”

Virgil’s face heated up as his heart drummed in his chest. “I-I heard you, but um... what?”

Dee smiled as he came closer and Virgil subconsciously backed up into the wall, “Your obliviousness is just as attractive.”

“What?” his voice only came out in a squeak.

Dee gave a laugh as he moved away, “We’ll talk in the morning. Goodnight Virgil.”

“What?”

~~~~

Step Three - Step Four - Step Five

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 5 years

Text

Non-Sequential [Ch. 21]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 3,100

Chapter 20

Bucky was leaving the safety of his isolated hut more and more, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He still got a little anxious around people. It wasn’t fear of them hurting him. It was that he’d hurt them. His guard was always up – that was what Hydra trained him for, after all. The slightest misstep from a stranger, someone dropping an object near him – that was all it took for him to lash out in defense.

But then Bucky came to Wakanda. He befriended T’Challa. And then Shuri. And then some of the Dora Milaje. Then Y/N came here. And Steve finally returned.

Bucky realized he couldn’t keep hiding in his little bubble of security anymore.

So now he found himself making his way to the capital to find Steve.

He told himself he was going to help his best friend take his mind off his time-traveling girlfriend. But Bucky knew he needed to take his mind off of it too. He worried about Y/N just as much as Steve. He was just better at hiding it.

Now Bucky found himself moving smoothly through the hallways of the royal palace. The guards had become familiar with him finally, no longer suspicious or giving him side eye. Sometimes they would even give him small smiles, which he made sure to always return.

He was finally in front of Steve’s door. He listened for a moment, expecting to find the sound of Steve pacing back and forth or giving some sort of sign of his stress.

But the room was quiet.

Bucky knocked softly, now half expecting Steve to not even be in his bedroom. Maybe he’d find him in the training room.

But then he heard quiet and hurried footsteps a few seconds later.

Bucky took a step back and studied his friend.

Steve’s chest was without a shirt. The only thing covering his body were a pair of black sweatpants, slightly frayed at the bottom. It was obvious he had just woken up. But something was unusual.

Bucky was so focused on trying to figure out what was different with Steve, that he was caught off guard by the movement behind him. There, in Steve’s bed, was Y/N fast asleep. There was nothing hiding her naked body from Bucky’s gaze except Steve’s bedding.

Bucky quickly glanced back at Steve. That’s when he noticed Steve’s slightly swollen lips, his messy hair that was always kept.

Bucky cleared his throat. “I see Y/N’s back.”

Steve blushed, and it reminded Bucky that there would always be a part of Steve that was that innocent and tiny punk from Brooklyn.

Steve must’ve felt his hair was a giveaway, for he was now trying to tame it. “Uhhh. Yeah, she came back a few hours ago.”

“She OK?” Bucky felt the need to ask. Even though it was now obvious that Steve and her had clearly been having sex.

“Yeah. Uh…Yeah, she’s fine.”

“Steve?” Bucky’s tone demanded attention.

“Yeah, Buck.”

“This doesn’t have to be weird.” Bucky smirked. “Don’t make it weird.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Right.” He finally stopped messing with his hair. “Did you need something, Buck? Everything OK?”

“No, I didn’t need anything. I was just checking on you. Didn’t want you to wear out the floor with your worrying. Thought you could use some company.” Then Bucky’s eyes flickered to Y/N. “But clearly you found company in someone else,” he teased.

Steve gave him a warning glare.

Bucky shifted his weight. “Well, I’m glad she got back safe.”

As soon as he turned on his heels, that weird and familiar feeling settled in his stomach. He tried his best to ignore it as he began walking away.

“Buck?” Steve quietly called out to him.

He turned.

“Sure you’re alright?”

Bucky gave his famous smirk and nodded. “Yeah, I’m just gonna train for a bit.”

——————

Y/N woke up to the sound of Steve’s shower running. A shy and sleepy grin formed on her lips as last night came back to the forefront of her mind.

Obviously one night of returned intimacy wasn’t going to solve all of Y/N and Steve’s problems. Their relationship still had its issues. But it was a relief not to feel like they were off kilter, even if it was for a short time.

Y/N sat up straighter when she heard the water turn off. She tightened the bedding under her armpits, trying to find some modesty. It was silly trying to do such a thing in front of Steve. All he’d ever done was praise and become captivated by her nakedness.

“You’re up,” he greeted with a smile as he walked out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist.

Then he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Leaning down, he gave her a morning kiss.

But when Steve pulled away, there was worry in his eyes.

“What?” Y/N asked.

Steve sighed. “Want to tell me what happened while you were gone?”

She feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”

He raised a brow. “Come on, Y/N.” Then he scratched the back of his neck. “Look, last night was…great.” There was that classic Steve Rogers blush. “Amazing, actually.” But then he sighed again and shook his head. “But I’m not a fool, Y/N. Something caused you to…”

He cleared his throat. “Something’s changed.” His eyes stared into her gaze. “And I just want to know what that is.”

Y/N’s entire face dropped. Her shoulders were tense and her eyes distant.

“Steve…I can’t–I can’t tell you what you want to know.”

His blue eyed were suddenly filled with sadness. He had to look away from her to hide it. “You know, I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

“I’m sorry, Steve.” Y/N whispered.

He shook his head slowly. Not mad, but his notorious Steve Rogers disappointment.

Y/N leaned forward and kissed the bare skin of his shoulder.

“Does it make any difference that it’s something good?” Y/N murmured against his skin.

Steve finally looked at her again and gave her a sad smile. “I guess it does.”

Y/N gave him a sweet and slow kiss on the lips.

Steve gripped her chin lightly. “There’s something else I gotta talk to you about.”

She could already tell by his face that she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.

“I gotta leave for a little bit,” he told her without looking her in the eye.

“Leave? But you just came back,” she argued.

“I know.” Steve ran his hand through his hair that was getting shaggier and shaggier. “Nat messaged me early this morning, said they got a lead on something. They’re gonna need me on this one.”

Y/N was quiet, processing his words.

Steve waited, but she remained quiet.

“Y/N, please say something.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you want me to say, Steve?”

“You deserve better than this life I’ve given you, Y/N. I left you in the only place I knew you’d be safe, a foreign country without knowing hardly anyone. I took your life away so I could have you.”

“No,” Y/N stopped him. “So, we could be together.” She took in a shaky breath. “Steve, with or without you, I never would’ve had a normal life. I sporadically disappear through time. What part of that is normal to you?”

Steve knew she wasn’t actually looking for an answer.

Y/N reached forward and ran a hand across his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his beard. “Go, Steve. Just come back to me, OK?” She whispered.

He grabbed her hand away from his face so he could hold it. “I promise.”

A few hours later, Y/N was standing and watching Steve pilot the quinjet into the air. He met her gaze through the windshield of the aircraft. His eyes were filled with reluctance, worry, and guilt. Everyone knew that Steve didn’t want to leave Y/N again. They had just started to get back on their feet. And Y/N was far from being emotionally and mentally healthy. She was still dealing with trauma, and now she would be dealing with it, without Steve, once again.

“He’ll be back,” Bucky muttered from behind Y/N once the jet was in the distance.

She turned to look into his ice blue eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve known Steve a long time and he may be an idiot… but he’s never made the same mistake twice.”

Y/N smirked. “What about all those fights he couldn’t run away from?”

“Yeah, but those were never mistakes to Steve.” Then Bucky’s expression turned serious. “Almost ruining what you two had? That was his biggest mistake ever. I know he won’t be making it again, kid.”

She looked down at her feet. “Why do you call me that?”

Bucky tilted his head a bit. “Call you what?”

“Kid.”

He shifted his weight awkwardly at the question. It made him realize that any explanation would put him in a awkward position. Was the nickname too intimate? Had his potential feelings become more apparent from it?

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

“No. No, I don’t think so.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “OK.” He tried to walk away again.

“Steve said you remembered…what happened to me,” Y/N called out quickly before he could escape. “That you told him everything.”

Bucky at least at the brains to look guilty about it. “I did,” he admitted.

“Why?”

Bucky stepped back toward her. “He needed to know, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t your story to tell,” she glared at him.

“You’re right. So, I told him mine. Or did you forget that I was there too? Forced to watch you get tortured while I was brainwashed to do nothing, except obey orders.”

“Stay out of it next time,” Y/N warned.

She knew she wasn’t being fair, that she was acting a bit childish. But she still believed that Bucky had no right to go behind her back and tell Steve what had happened.

“You wanna use me as your punching bag, Y/N? Fine. But I’m not going to apologize for telling your boyfriend why you’ve shut yourself away from the rest of the world.”

“Shut myself away from the world? You’re one to talk! You hid from Steve for two years!”

“Yeah, and look what good it did me!” He barked back. “Now the Avengers are torn apart, Steve’s a convict, and you’re stuck here with me!”

Y/N blinked and her mouth opened slightly in shock.

Suddenly her gut ached, filled with a sudden surge of guilt. Not once had she considered that Bucky felt responsible for what had happened between Steve and Tony.

“Running from the people who love you only makes things worse in the end. I had to learn that the hard way.” He held up his hands in surrender as he backed up. “Forgive me for trying to prevent you from making the same mistake.”

As soon as he was gone, Y/N’s eyes filled with tears. ‘God, you are such a fucking asshole, Y/N.’ She thought to herself.

———————————————————-

Y/N decided to take a walk in the morning instead of tossing and turning in her bed, failing to go to sleep. Two of the kings guards walked a few paces behind her. After the incident with Steve when they went horseback riding, T’Challa didn’t let Y/N go anywhere alone. He insisted it wouldn’t happen again, but that didn’t stop him from being cautious.

Just as she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, that terrifying tingling feeling spread throughout her body. Her eyes snapped open again.

Y/N quickly turned to her two guards. “I’m about to travel. Tell Shuri…and-and-and Bucky.”

But the two guards and landscape surrounding them slowly faded away and she was blinded by white. She squinted and shielded her eyes with her hand, giving herself time to adjust to the bright light.

Then she felt the cold against her bare feet. She looked down to see half a foot of snow.

Y/N shivered, finally realizing how cold it was. Quickly she rubbed her arms and hugged them close to her chest. The forest she was in reminded her of Italy on that dreadful day: February 1st, 1945.

Her heart suddenly started racing and she looked around frantically.

Had she been brought to the same exact moment?

Y/N didn’t think she could go through that torture again.

Bucky had already left her to die once, she couldn’t live it again.

Then Y/N heard a crash – one big enough that she felt the tremor in the ground under her feet. She gasped, thinking something was about to attack her.

“H-Hello?” She practically whimpered.

It felt like a stupid thing to do. But if someone really were out here, then they’d find her eventually.

But no one responded.

Except Y/N could feel someone’s presence. Even though it was obvious that she was in the middle of nowhere – a snow covered forest with no civilization in sight – Y/N was convinced that she was not alone.

Her feet started carrying her in the direction she sensed was correct. Maybe this person wasn’t her enemy. Maybe they could share clothes or a blanket.

Y/N brushed carefully in between the heavy, snow-covered branches. She looked up and realized she was in a narrow valley between two mountains.

But when she looked back down at the path in front of her, she stopped in her tracks.

The red was so vibrant against the stark white ground. The puddle got bigger and bigger as the blood continued to flow onto the snow. The dark navy of his jacket even looked more saturated against the white.

This was why the setting felt so familiar, yet so foreign. This was the moment Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes fell from the train to his assumed death.

Y/N finally snapped out of it.

“Bucky!” She gasped before running forward.

She no longer felt the cold. She forgot she was completely naked in another time.

All Y/N could focus on was Bucky bleeding out in front of her.

She kneeled on the ground before him. “Bucky! Bucky, can you hear me?”

From his expression alone, she could tell he was in excruciating pain. Part of his arm had already been ripped off, but who knew what other injuries he received from the fall.

To Y/N’s shock, Bucky’s eyes fluttered open. But they seemed to close again just as quickly.

“Y/N?” His muttering made it clear that his pain and shock had made him delirious.

“Yes, Bucky, I’m here.” When had she started crying? “I’m here, Bucky. I’m here.”

She reached for his other hand, gripping it tightly and hoping it would make him realize he wasn’t alone.

“You look like an angel,” he slurred with his eyes closed.

Y/N smiled through her tears at how Bucky found a way to be charming, even when he was on the brink of death.

“Please,” he then begged. “Please.”

“Please what, Bucky?” Y/N sniffed as she gripped his hand tighter.

“Don’t leave me.”

Suddenly they were no longer alone. Men were shouting at each other and Y/N heard dogs barking.

“No,” she gasped. “No, no, no, no, no.”

It was Hydra, coming to fetch their long-lost experiment.

Y/N quickly looked around her, desperately searching for something she could use as a weapon to defend both her and Bucky.

She realized there was still a gun and knife strapped to both of Bucky’s thighs. Her hands were shaking as she unbuckled them.

In seconds, the men had turned the corner, arriving on sleds pulled by the dogs she had heard.

They spoke to each other in German or Russian, Y/N couldn’t tell the difference. When they caught sight of Y/N, they laughed and shoved each other playfully.

But pointing a gun was a universal language, even if the person behind it was a naked and vulnerable woman.

“Stay away from him,” Y/N growled.

She pulled the trigger. Except there was only one boom as it hit one of the them straight in the chest. Lucky shot, for Y/N had never fired a gun in her life. But that was all she was going to get, because the gun only had a single bullet.

Y/N bellowed in frustration and decided to throw the thing at another man, managing to make him duck in fear. But he quickly recovered and made his way to her.

She now gripped the knife tightly and readied herself.

As soon as he was in reach, she swung at him. But he was expecting it and dodged the blow.

Now it was obvious that she was not a trained agent of any sort. Hell, she was fighting in a snowbank completely naked.

The man seemed more entertained than threatened at the realization.

With the back of his hand, he swung and hit Y/N across the face.

She stumbled a bit and reached for her mouth, finding that her lip was now split and bleeding. “Fuck you,” Y/N hissed before she brought her knee up and slammed it right into the man’s groin. He howled in pain and keeled over, hitting the snow with a thud.

It bought Y/N just enough reprieve to realize the tingling had started again.

“No,” Y/N whimpered.

She rushed back to Bucky and slipped on the snow, falling to her knees just inches away from him.

“Bucky. Bucky, listen to me,” she begged.

He only groaned.

“You’re going to be OK. This isn’t it. I just need you to hold on, OK? Just hold on.” She was fully sobbing now. “Please…just-just stay strong.” She squeezed his hand. “We’re going to see each other again. You’re going to see Steve again. OK?”

But then his hand fell from her grip as her skin and bones evaporated through time.

------------------------------------------

Chapter 22

Sorry this took me so long to write, once again. I think there’s only going to be a few more chapters of this story. Just a heads up.

#non-sequential #non-sequential chapter 21 #non-sequential series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers reader insert #captain america reader insert #steve rogers angst #bucky barnes and dogs #steve rogers series #pre serum steve rogers #pre-serum!steve rogers #pre serum!steve rogers x reader #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #marel reader insert

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whatwashernameagain · 4 years

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Keep him safe - Chapter 33

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Ch 30, previous chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you, The Dreamer

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 12.491

Warnings: feeling everyone is against you, self-hate, cursing, mentioned addiction, mentioned past bullying

Summary: Detective Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however, feels a lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly have received from his costumary clumsiness. Meanwhile his partner Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Thanks so much to my betas @spootilious and @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 for your continuous support and WELCOME TO ALL THE NEW PEOPLE WHO JOINED THE DISCORS SERVER! I am so happy you are all here! Anyone can join: Invitation:https://discord.gg/Y2WNAND

Also I thought I’d get out my stuffy Ko-fi page again since the story is two years old now and eating up huge portions of my life, in case anyone wants to support me. Reblogs and comments are just as welcome, though ;)

Chapter 33

Knowing how awkward Logan had been the first few days of waking up after a sleepover, and fearing an even worse reaction with Patton after falling asleep tangeld around each other, Roman cautiously chose to peek into the silent room the next morning. He was a valiant hero, after all. He would save his partner.

Upon finding them still asleep - and fully dressed - Roman stormed the room and cheerfully forced himself between them, asking for kisses and breakfast and knowing full well there would have been an awful lot of stuttering and apologizing on both sides without his glittering presence. He grinned smugly as Patton sleepily giggled and snuggled into his arms.

Upon entering the kitchen, Virgil softly asked Patton if he was okay, as he had every morning now that the baker thought about it. Logan on the other hand flushed and tiptoed around him until Patton cornered him.

“I’m sorry for making you worry.” He apologized once they had a moment to themselves and were able to settle down with some tea and cocoa, respectively, on the couch. Knowing Logan needed to have things explained carefully, he tried to put his stupid emotions into words that would cause as little harm as possible.

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all, it’s all me! I just got so used to having things go bad every once in a while, when I do something dumb, that I started to expect it. I sometimes – I don’t know - I keep seeing bad things that aren’t there. It’s silly. I’m sorry.” Patton rambled, curling around his warm mug.

“Your responses are far from silly, Patton. Please do not belittle yourself for your emotions.” Logan responded gently. His voice was deep and warm. He gazed at Patton’s pale, small hands quietly, at the light falling onto his silky curls, at his smooth, lovely face. His chest felt full with longing. The patissier was radiant in the sunlight bathing him, making him look bright and innocent and so brave. Logan could hardly breathe with how much he felt, suddenly. With how much he wanted Patton’s happiness. The urge to make things right was like an entity on its own, pushing at his ribcage, urging him to speak. He selected his words carefully.

“Something must have caused your worries. It would calm me greatly to understand which behaviors have caused you to respond the way you did so I may prevent them in the future. I truly wish to make you feel safe in this flat. Please support me in my endeavor to understand.”

Patton couldn’t help but feel stupid and guilty as he was confronted with such honest, unjudging support. He swallowed hard. The difference between the image he had made up and the man begging him to be allowed to take care of him couldn’t be more obvious. Logan’s dark eyes were so warm when he looked at him. He wasn’t smiling or complimenting him, or telling him how great he was and promising him gifts and such, but Patton still felt like he mattered more than he ever had. Logan’s attention was entirely focused on him, his tall form angled towards Patton, as if he were everything he cared about.

He wanted to apologize again and tell the detective that it was all his fault, that he shouldn’t worry. He also knew that Logan had developed a talent for seeing through his excuses. He wouldn’t be satisfied until Patton had told him how to help.

“It really isn’t your fault, Logan. Please believe me! It’s all in my confused head, you can’t help it when I make things up. And it’s not just you anyway, which shows how much silliness I’m coming up with - you really can’t trust my little head.”

“I do not understand. Did somebody else make you uncomfortable?” Logan asked, straightening in alarm. Patton felt like he had been shoved in the chest. It took him a moment to realize that the fact that Logan had automatically assumed he alone was to blame had hurt. Why was it that they wanted to care for each other so badly and still kept rubbing each other the wrong way? Patton just wanted - he just wanted to give Logan so much. He wanted to touch him in ways that made him smile, not doubt himself.

“Well, it really is all me, when If I’m being really honest!” Patton hastened to remind him. “But I guess it’s really – whenever someone fights or makes loud noises or – or argues about something and gets angry – and that’s okay of course! It’s all my fault and you are not doing anything wrong, it’s all in my head! But- that just, it just makes me an itty bit anxious, you know? I mean- you probably don’t, being a strong detective and all. I just worry that you guys might get in a fight or that I did something wrong. I do that plenty after all. But like I said, it’s all me being oversensitive, you should just laugh about it and go on with your day. I’m sorry for being a bother!”

Logan grew very silent after Patton’s explanation. Sightlessly staring at the tea in his hands, he tried to categorize the exchanges of the last weeks in the apartment. He had thought that they were all happy here. There hadn’t been any fights, any dramatic outbreaks or terrible mistakes he needed to fix. Virgil had grown so confident and Roman was happy. The pets were healthy and he had thought… he had thought Patton had everything he wanted. What arguments had upset the gentle man? Roman and him had been getting along as well as always. Virgil hadn’t had any visible adverse reactions to his therapy that he could think of either and he was clearly growing closer to Roman.

Had he been angry? Had he fought with one of them and hadn’t seen the effect it had on Patton? He just couldn’t understand what his friend was referring to for a long moment. Everything had been going so smoothly between him and the others. What could he have been doing that would be considered aggressive by a victim of abuse, such as the pâtissier?

It dawned to him quite abruptly. He’d been angry indeed. Just this morning he had grabbed Roman and growled at him for being dramatic and causing them stress over his gloves. His irritating partner had been howling about it too. Loudly. He had hardly noticed the sheer amount of noise he was making anymore; or the fact that he, himself, was apparently constantly frustrated with him. He didn’t mean it, after all.

The realization that Logan was indeed annoyed at one thing or another all the time came as a shock to him. He had been so content. He hadn’t noticed…

It was so natural for him to complain and lecture others, especially Roman, who liked to have his attention. It was part of their dynamic. He liked to grumble and his partner liked to wail and whimper and demand he be treated with admiration and given the pity his various plights deserved. They bickered like siblings because this was what had gotten them close to each other in the beginning of their friendship, when they hadn’t felt comfortable enough to ask for friendly cuddles. It was their way. He showed his affection in this manner. Whenever he grabbed Roman, his friend would lean into him or playfully wiggle about, letting him carry his weight. When he wanted to initiate contact, he woefully sighed or whimpered and draped himself over Logan. They shoved and bickered and roughhoused with each other to show their mutual affection and wish for contact.

Had Patton seen something he had missed? What if he had misinterpreted their interactions all those years? Was Logan actually insulting Roman? Was he unhappy as well? Was he secretly resenting him?

What about Virgil? He’d been so hurt and disappointed by the men he’d trusted. Did he feel threatened?

Logan felt like a sudden weight pressed on his chest. It hurt so badly he flinched from the sudden rush of agony. He drew a sharp breath, trying to control his twisting features. He was suddenly afraid he would start to cry and be absolutely helpless to stop it. Biting the inside of his cheek hard, he barely managed to place the tea on the table. His hands were shaking. He had to compose himself. Losing control and falling apart in front of Patton would be too much to bear.

His thoughts kept circling, defying his attempts to force them into order. What had he done? He couldn’t think clearly. His breath hitched. He felt like everyone was looking at him. Like they were talking about him, wishing he was gone. Like they used to in school, like the other children used to, wherever he went. He had thought they had been getting along. He had thought they had liked him – he’d tried so hard to always help with their exercises and tell them about the things he cared about, he had thought that they wanted to hear- but he’d misread the situation. He just couldn’t understand them. The shock of learning he had been hated by the other students in his class without even knowing, it had felt nothing like the possibility of having forced his family to live with a man that hurt them.

His mind was racing, churning up more and more scenarios that horrified him. There were so many reasons why they could feel forced to stay with him, to pretend they liked the man that was actually making them miserable. Virgil had nowhere to go. He would have to accept any situation that kept him out of harm’s way or out of prison, and Logan had been the key to his freedom. Roman needed someone to look after him, being all alone in the world without a steady presence, who else would he have turned to, but the man who’d bullied him into living with him? Patton had been pulled out of the steady relationship that had been his life and was now essentially homeless, helpless to go anywhere else, for fear of the man that might be waiting for him, not even able to rent his own place since his finances were still entangled with that man’s. Was it like the last time, where he had been the one that alienated everyone, the one who didn’t understand when he hurt feelings, the one everyone talked about behind his back? Was he suddenly going to be alone again? Before Roman, he had eventually given up. He had isolated himself to protect himself from this feeling, certain he couldn’t bear it a second time. And he had been right. His chest felt like something was breaking.

He stumbled as he rose, barely seeing what was in front of him through his blurred vision. He couldn’t be looked at anymore. Every look felt like an assault. He needed to hide.

“I’m sorry. Please- please excuse me. I am so sorry.” He stuttered, shakily wiping his eyes and nearly losing his glasses. He hit his shin on the edge of the coffee table but kept going, feeling his face heat with shame.

“Logan, wait please! What’s wrong? I’m sorry I upset you, please-” Patton pleaded. He was frightened. Logan had scared him and now he was trying to placate him so he wouldn’t hurt him again-

This was too much.

Logan stumbled into the corridor, feeling panic well up in him. There were footsteps behind him, following him. He barely made it to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him too loudly. He hadn’t meant to do that! Every sound he made was too loud, he was doing everything wrong and he hadn’t even noticed.

He hardly managed to turn the key with his shaking hands, needing the little bit of security it afforded him like the air he breathed. Tears were streaming down his face now. He couldn’t stop remembering Patton’s fear when he had reached out to him in his flat, broken and bleeding. What had he put him through after he’d thought he had rescued him? He’d thought he had finally learned to understand, but everything he believed was wrong again.

He sank down against the door, covering his ears with his hands so hard the way he squished his glasses against his skull hurt, rocking back and forth in his curled-up position. It was too much. Everything felt overwhelming to him!

There were voices on the other side of the door, loud and rushed.

“The fuck happened, man?” Virgil growled. Stress was making his voice rougher than intended. He had seen Logan flee from the room, completely out of it and couldn’t help the tide of protective anger.

Patton flinched, backing away from the door. His eyes were bright.

“I- I don’t know! I messed up, I think. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Virgil!” He cried, hugging himself and looking smaller than he had in weeks.

Fuck.

Virgil took a deep, calming breath and told himself not to be an asshole for once.

“It’s okay, Pat. I’m sorry I yelled. I’m, like, really fucking anxious right now, but I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong. It happens. I’m not mad at you, man. Please, just- Roman, deal with this?” He asked, knowing when he reached his limit with emotional bullshit. His worry for Logan was already too much and seeing Patton hurt was frankly agonizing. It was more than he could bear. Roman would stay calm and be big and gentle and reassuring no matter what was wrong. He was amazing like that – nothing like Logan and him, who were, if he were quite honest, a mess when if came to vulnerable, emotional shit.

“Hey, it’s all good dearest Patton.” Roman crooned at the frazzled baker softly, reaching out to him with hands that were so tender. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll hug it out? Our brilliant Virgil will fix everything and we fabulous darlings will get ourselves some well-deserved cuddles. Sounds good?”

Patton didn’t really get a chance to worry about making a decision since the detective was already bundling him up in the warmest embrace, tugging his little body against his bigger one. Roman allowed them a moment to rub his cheek against soft curls and hum a soothing melody.

Having moved them both back to the couch, he made sure to pull the smaller body between his legs and wrap him all up in his embrace. Keeping up a calming chatter, he rubbed his hands over the slender back and through his hair, hoping to slow his frightened little heart.

“I’ve got you, sweetest Patton. No one is angry at you. All will be well, I promise. We love you. Take a deep breath for me, okay? Logan will be just fine. We’ll always fix everything together and no one will be hurt or mad. We’re a family, we’ll get over the drama and have cocoa. That’s it.”

His voice was deeper and softer than usual, lacking all of the shrill, loud notes that had recently made Patton’s nerves flutter fearfully. He sounded certain and loving. Squeezing his eyes shut, he listened to his tender words.

Virgil pressed his ear against the wood, trying to determine what to do. He couldn’t hear Logan at all and he didn’t want to upset him even more by demanding anything. Should he call Remy and make him talk to the detective? His phone was out here though, and he’d need to get him to open the door first.

Pushing the emotional mess onto someone else sounded so tempting, but he knew Logan would be ashamed to talk to his old friend like that. Also, he had an idea about what had happened. Patton had grown frightened of- everything, really. He was starting to put it together properly only now that he had seen just how afraid he’d just looked. He guessed the same insecurity he had gone through himself had to be expected. But of course, it would be different for Patton. Virgil had thought Logan was the right one to fix it because- because he had fixed everything for him. He trusted the man so much because he gave him so much more stability and safety than he had ever experienced before. His touch always felt safe to Virgil and he always trusted him to listen and understand, because the way their minds worked was so similar in a way.

He was a fucking idiot.

Logan was acting like a father to him, platonically loving him and protecting him. His touch was safe. Virgil’s expectations towards him were safe. But to Patton, he was something else. Patton had been abused by the man he’d loved, so the relapse would of course make him project onto Logan most because he was closest to a romantic partner. The baker liked him. Their cuddles, despite how innocent and well intended, were never as platonic as Virgil’s and Logan’s. Of course he would think that if anyone was going to grow abusive as he clearly expected, it would be the man he unconsciously saw as a potential lover. If he kept projecting the fear that asshat had instilled in him onto Logan, they were in for quite a ride.

Virgil sighed. He should have seen this coming. He was such a fucking idiotic idiot.

If Patton had told Logan he was scared of him, Logan would overthink for sure – because he was also an idiot. He was probably in there thinking everyone was afraid of him and feeling like he had run over a baby bird or some shit. Someone with a pathological need to help would of course spiral right into self-hate. Hello, old friend.

Well, Virgil was nothing if not a manipulative bitch.

“Logan?” He called softly, knocking on the door far more quietly than he wanted to.

“Logan, you’re scaring me. Please let me in! I’m worried you’ll hurt yourself, I can’t lose you too. Please let me in!” He begged, making his voice high and frightened and feeling absolutely no remorse whatsoever for once.

The door was fumbled open as soon as his apparently fearful words had left his lips. The fucking sap.

Logan was disheveled and looked like he’d tried to wipe his tears off to hide them. He looked heartbroken and painfully shy. And he’d still opened the door because of Virgil’s pleading.

Fuck him, Virgil loved him so much.

He gave the startled, wide eyed man a hard push in the chest, angry at being forced to feel so much. How dare he think Virgil didn’t love him?!

“You’re such a- a fucking-”

He lunged at him and buried his face in the conservative sweater, squeezing so hard Logan wheezed for breath.

“You’re such a moron, man! Now hug me!” He demanded, holding on for dear life. Clearly utterly confused, Logan obeyed unsteadily.

“You clueless idiot.” Virgil growled into the cable-knit, hating how wet his voice sounded. Why was there always so much fucking drama in this flat?!

“Shake all those stupid thoughts out of your head and listen to me, okay? You don’t get to be a paranoid piece of shit, that’s my job!”

Logan drew a breath to complain and Virgil just knew he would try to tell him that he very much was not an idiot and that Virgil was not allowed to insult himself. Well, Virgil wasn’t going to let him turn this around onto him. However, he wished he was better at this. He wished he could just drop this emotional mess into Remy’s lap and hide under the covers where he could come to terms with how uncomfortably much he cared for Logan. He squeezed him tighter – effectively cutting him off before he could speak – pressing himself as close as he possibly could. There were no words for the things he felt. Patton and Roman probably had some; plenty, in fact. He didn’t, and neither did Logan. But his hands were uncertainly brushing over his back and Virgil liked that helpless, platonic affection very, very much.

“You absolute dimwit! Don’t ever think we don’t – that we don’t – we want to be here with you, okay? I trust you and I never trust anyone, cause I’m not a moron who adopts people, but I trust you so fucking much and I’ve had to make too many fucking confessions lately; so can you please just believe that we are your family and that Roman wants to be your fucking puppy; and Patton is messed up beyond belief but he’s fricking enamored with you; and that I’d really like to end this conversation right now, alright?? Don’t make me say anything else or I’ll knock myself out on that dresser!”

Unsurprisingly, Logan was at a loss for words. Not that he could have said much, considering how tightly Virgil was currently squeezing his ribcage. His little delinquent’s hug really was quite aggressive.

He didn’t feel frightened either. His face – as much as Logan could see of it – was bright red. The poor thing was clearly embarrassed and tired of baring his feelings this way. Logan couldn’t shake his insecurity, though. He could feel obligated to calm him, after all. Virgil was so dependent on him. Feeling lost and just wishing he could bury his face in the once again tangled, purple hair he liked to groom, Logan tried to make his embrace as safe and comfortable as possible to his little charge. How he wanted to protect him from the world. The frame under his hands was still so thin and slender. He didn’t know how to articulate the rush of warmth he felt. He wanted to ask more questions, desperate to be reassured the things he wished for so dearly were true, but he felt Virgil’s tiredness, and he shared it. Trying to understand the way people talked - silent and illogical just with their bodies and gestures and the insinuations he failed to understand – it was still confusing to him sometimes, and when he thought he had gotten something wrong, he tended to overanalyze every interaction he had had with that person until he didn’t trust himself anymore. He was just tired.

Embarrassed and stressed out of his mind, Virgil hid his face in their embrace and wished he could just crawl under the heavy, dark covers of his bed right now - the bed Logan had given him with all the books and space for his things and that citrus geranium that endlessly frustrated him with its wilting leaves. Pitying the poor, nerdy fool for his useless attempts, Virgil had started programming a sensor to monitor the plant’s humidity and sunlight intake for Logan. He had grown worried about the amount of annoyance that one dying plant caused the detective, okay? He didn’t want the dude paying his metaphorical rent to have a fucking stroke, that was all. And maybe he just wanted him to be happy. He had thought it might be something they could do together, though he hadn’t dared approach him about it yet. He didn’t want to annoy Logan with his nerdy ideas, and he hadn’t done something like this in so long. If his fucked-up mind made him mess this up he could never live it down. However, Remy’s voice telling him to quit being a drama queen and like, gush with the other massive nerd about his nerdy projects was clear in his memory. He didn’t want to talk feelings anymore. He wanted to huddle together with Logan and just fucking lose himself in something that made sense. Was it too much to ask to just be together? He thought that perhaps, it actually wasn’t.

Making a decision, Virgil suddenly used his wiry muscles to push his body against Logan’s, toppling them onto the bed. He wasn’t going to talk this out. No sir, not this time. They both needed a fucking break.

Logan huffed in surprise, especially since he was unexpectedly being pushed around by sharp elbows and bony shins until he had been shuffled into a position where Virgil could comfortably tuck himself under his arm and lay his head on his shoulder. Wrestling his phone out of his hoodie’s pocket, the younger man pulled up a still blank looking app that showed little else but two buttons on a white screen.

“Wanna show you something.” Virgil muttered half into his wool sweater before launching into an explanation about the app he was programming. Logan was instantly intrigued. Wrapping his arm around his little one, he pulled Virgil close to navigate the still almost empty display with him, getting lost in the fluttering, enthusiastic feeling a fascinating project gave him. Virgil’s app could monitor the factors influencing growth and compare them to different locations in the flat or different amounts of moisture in the soil. Perhaps this way he could finally attempt to grow a lemon tree once again. He’d failed three times before giving up. The Failure still irked him.

Before long, both men had comfortably cuddled together, discussing the advantages of a stainless-steel sensor as opposed to the inferior plastic ones other projects were using. Virgil was warm and small in his arm. His muscles were loose and he made sure to push and shove at Logan when he wanted to curl up more or wanted a certain space. Everything about him spoke of trust.

Though Logan attempted to keep his touch respectful, being acutely aware of the fears that could awaken in his little charge, Virgil gave him no signals of discomfort. His heart beat steadily where his chest was pressed against Logan’s side and his breathing was even and calm. He sounded pleased when Logan complimented his ideas. Undoubtedly, Roman would be able to tell him if he really as relaxed as the factors he was monitoring were suggesting. He could see it all from nothing but a look.

Roman never failed to tell him when he had messed up or needed to back off. Didn’t that speak of confidence? They had some difficult conversations about his actions in the past and his partner had always trusted him to tell him the truth. Certainly, he had told him plenty of times that he was limiting Roman’s heroic brilliance or ruining his entrance and such, but he had never complained about feeling hurt by Logan. Wouldn’t he at least have told him? But what about Patton? He had always suffered in silence rather than asking for help – or to stop.

Logan gasped as bony fingers stabbed him in the side.

“You’re thinking too loudly, dude.” Virgil complained, feeling ignored. He shouldn’t be surprised Logan needed things spelled out for him. He was Logan after all.

Sighing as if he was forced to do something terrible by disentangling out of the embrace that had been warm and really fucking nice, he rose without much enthusiasm and yanked on Logan’s arm.

“C’mon, you poor sod. Let Roman tell you how much he loves you. He might want to lick your face.”

“There will be no need for any of that.” The detective grumbled, reluctantly letting the smaller man pull him along. He didn’t know if he would be brave enough to face Patton without the aggressive interference. His face grew hot at the memory of the way he had fallen apart in front of him. He felt quite humiliated by his reaction. Patton had trusted him with his fears and he had made it all about himself and had made a fool of himself. Without the control he protected himself with he felt vulnerable. Naked even, as if his defenses had been torn away. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to be seen.

Feeling his friend’s feet drag with shame, Virgil wrapped an arm around Logan’s middle and offered him strength through their silent contact. He still did not want to talk about feelings, it was exhausting, but he could always lend the support of his body. He was learning to use it in different ways, lately.

Patton and Roman both sat up straight as they entered the living-room. From the way Logan hung his head in the futile attempt to hide his blush, it was clear to Roman what his friend needed now. It was his favorite partner’s love!

Giving Patton an encouraging pat on the shoulder on the way, the young detective wasted no time wrapping Logan (and Virgil – who was conveniently wrapped in Logan’s arm, sue him) into his embrace. His little wildcat gave an irritated little growl but since he was largely ignored in favor of pecking annoying kisses all over his partner’s face, he let the cuddling slide. After all, they both smelled good and were comfy and shit.

Logan turned his heated face away into Virgil’s hair, grumbling incoherently. He was too hot under the sweater and starting to get the feeling he needn’t have worried about Roman and Virgil after all. The little barista was comfortably leaning against him, letting him take his weight, and his partner was – he was reasonably certain – trying to annoy him in order to lighten the mood. He had overreacted once again. They must think him a dramatic child. He felt very, very inadequate.

Perceptive as always, Roman angled them so his friend could hide his burning cheeks from sight. The poor man was probably mortified at showing emotions in front of the people who regularly suffered emotional accidents around him.

“All is well now, my adoring fans. Prince Roman, beloved hero and winner of the Medal of Valor is here!” He cooed, hoping to get a rise out of them and lighten the mood. Virgil snorted. He made sure to push himself close to Logan and allow him to feel the way he was holding on to his sweater for support.

Virgil would have liked to stay in this position longer and allow Roman to take the weight of the attention onto his broad shoulders, but Patton was still cowering at the edge of the sofa, wide eyed and anxious. His shoulders seemed very small. Though he was entirely silent, his small hands were nervously fidgeting with his long sleeves. He looked lost.

The barista ached with pain for his friend. He had put himself through years of abuse to shield his piece of shit boyfriend and had blamed himself for his issues whenever he was suffering of whatever bullshit he got himself into. Patton was all about saving people. Having hurt someone he loved must be the worst kind of torture for him. Add to that the fear of retribution and he must be in one hell of a mess. And of course Virgil had attacked him after Logan’s little breakdown. Of course he had.

Though he was torn about forcing Logan to face his fear of having frightened the baker, Virgil gently tried to free himself from the tangled embrace, which wasn’t easy since he was squished in the middle.

Being especially weary about restricting his youngest guest, Logan immediately released the shorter man from under his arm, pulling his limbs close to his chest. Roman pounced and pulled his partner in again, humming to him lovingly. He would be patient to take this one step at the time.

Virgil was feeling less than patient, to be quite honest. Why did they keep stepping into piles of emotional shit when all they wanted was to live quietly with each other and sometimes ogle Roman’s ass? (that might just be him, though) He just wanted Logan and Patton and Roman - the fucking, special dork - to be allowed to be fine. Was that too much to ask?!

Of course, despite Virgil wanting nothing but to protect his friend, Patton saw the frustration written clearly all over the slim features of the moody young man. His breath hitched.

Aw shit.

Virgil may be emotionally stunted to the point of still kind of hating Remy for making him want to talk to him, but he wasn’t blind. Especially to Patton. It was easy to see why he was ending up in those emotion-shitpiles. He kept aiming for them and jumped right in. He’d thought Patton would focus on Logan because – well, he still remembered being scared out of his mind as he had sat at his desk, cuffed and desperate and Logan had been furious about the pain of his partner. It had made sense, too. Logan was the responsible adult in the flat and Pat was used to the men responsible for him to turn on him, but it wasn’t just him. Virgil was doing it too, and more often than he had noticed initially.

Making sure to appear nonthreatening – which normally wasn’t hard, considering how hunched and slim he still was, he pulled his sleeves over his hands and looked at Patton through his purple bangs. The baker swallowed visibly and attempted to smile at him, uncertainly.

“Look, Pat, can we talk? It’s all good though. I wanna apologize. You’re not in trouble. ‘s fine.” He mumbled, looking down at his shoes. Swallowing hurt, suddenly. His throat felt tight.

Patton didn’t speak. He was very pale.

‘You can do this.’ Virgil reminded himself as old, familiar pain rose in him upon being surrounded by suffering loved ones. ‘You took care of your mom and you’ll take care of him now. You can fix this. Just start somewhere.’

“Um, I – I think I messed up, I guess. ‘m sorry, man. I was really out of line before and I think I kinda scared you just now. Can we, um – can we talk about that? Please?”

Apparently finding the courage to speak in the face of Virgil’s scratchy voice, Patton finally responded with forced cheer in his voice.

“Don’t you worry, kiddo! It’s all fine! There’s nothing to worry about. I get a little messy sometimes but that’s all my fault. You all don’t need to take it on your shoulders, please don’t do that! I’m really sorry for upsetting you all! This whole thing is my fault – please, just ignore me and don’t let silly little me worry you! I’m really sorry.” He rambled, glancing at Logan still squished in Roman’s embrace. He bit his lip, his eyes suspiciously bright, before he smiled at Virgil once again. Seeing Logan hide in his partner’s arms, clearly feeling too ashamed to face them, appeared to unbalance him.

Yes, Virgil got that. Logan was supposed to be strong and seeing him insecure hurt in all kinds of ways that resonated deep in Virgil, pulling sharply at old wounds. Seeing the person you relied on weak and helpless cut you as if you were a child losing the protection of a parent. It never stopped hurting. Roman had situation that figured out, though. He joked quietly with his partner and finally simply pulled them both to the ground like a playful child, ignoring the complaints, and settled them against the bookshelves covering the first part of the living-room. Nicodemus had clambered onto the lowest shelf and wanted attention. With a little hop, he jumped onto his human’s shoulder, quieting his annoyance.

Hidden half behind the couch and visually separated from the others by the wooden beams loosely enclosing the little library, Roman finally managed to give his friend a bit of security by offering the safety of his large body to lean against. They were still close enough to be there for the others and later reassure Logan, but for now he had a moment to compose himself again.

That worked fine for Virgil. He didn’t know how he would have been expected to ignore the terrible fear for his protector, had Roman not calmly and sweetly taken over soothing him. Come to think of it, maybe the dork had the right idea with the cuddly, comfy shit.

“Um, hey… how about we sit and figure it out together, okay?” He offered tentatively. The kitten and Cat were on the couch as well, unravelling a ball of string and in Cat’s case trying to bite it into submission for tangling around her little hand-paws.

Patton nodded obediently, quickly rushing to clean up a place for them by tidying away Roman’s drawings and his knitting needles. Whatever progress he seemed to have made with Logan yesterday seemed to have crumbled in the face of actually making their most reliable protector crumble from his words. Virgil knew those moments where no amount of rationality could cut through the pain of having failed the person you love. Even if you had given up your education, your dreams, your time and health and safety, every failure replayed in your mind, pressing you down with guilt.

Virgil tried to swallow his memories through the heaviness in his chest. He ran a suddenly shaking hand over his face. He had relied on Logan and Patton so much to give him strength and structure and confidence and now one of them was still silently cowering on the floor, uncharacteristically small and fearful of the confrontation with Patton and still flushed hot with shame, and the other looked at him like he expected him to shout. His Patton. It was a position he had never expected to be in, anymore. One of the reasons he had left the Scorpions was because he couldn’t forget the pale, frightened face of the slight baker and now they were back, full circle, knee deep in a pile of emotional shit.

“Hey, no no no, c’mere, kiddo.” Patton cooed suddenly. His hands were still warm while Virgil’s had grown weak and cold. He pulled Virgil on the couch with him and without hesitation, into his arms. His little body folded against the barista like a cat’s, flexible and trusting. Running his fingers through the purple mess, Patton rocked him slightly.

“It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’m so sorry for scaring you, Kiddo. I just get like that sometimes. I know I shouldn’t and it’s stupid, so you can just ignore it and it’ll go away. There’s no reason to feel bad at all - you are doing wonderfully. Please don’t think about it. I love you so very much.” He promised, his voice tender and honey sweet. He nuzzled their faces together and curled them up comfortably, making Virgil feel so so small. Like a child in his mother’s arms. Taking a shuddering breath, he held on.

“That’s okay, Pat. I get like that, too. Just… different. I um – Remy says I get aggressive instead, and try to – to push people away and expect the worst of them – cause… cause of the – because after my mom… when she got – she got sick I…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Patton mercifully whispered against his hair, impossibly loving. Virgil hadn’t even realized how irregular his breathing had become. He had almost told him about- his heart hammered in his chest with a sudden rush of terror. What the fuck had possessed him?!

After counting his breathing to get his shit together, Virgil tried again to make his point.

“Pat, I’m trying to- to tell you that I get it. I totally do. You go through all that shit and it fucks you up – sorry, I’m sorry – it messes you up and you expect to see sh-stuff around every corner and – and that’s fine! Remy says it’s normal and if we talk about it with – with them, they’ll get it. We’ve got triggers, man, and that’s okay. We triggered Logan a little bit and that happens, too. Now we know, right? I’ve got triggers and you’ve got them too, and we walked right in cause we’re all morons cause we don’t talk – cause it’s f-ing horrible. But – can we talk about it? Please?”

“Oh, of course. I’d like to know what makes you and… and Logan anxious. I didn’t want to hurt him.” Patton mumble quietly, very aware that the detective was still in the same room and they hadn’t cleared up the situation yet. His heart raced with anxiety over his reaction.

A little grunt signaled Roman wordlessly telling Logan his moment had arrived. With his elbow.

The detectives slunk around the couch and gently folded themselves on the free space on the couch, Roman shamelessly curling close to his partner and laying his arm over the armrest against Logan’s shoulders. Though he didn’t seem quite able to look Patton in the eye yet, Logan hesitantly spoke up.

“I believe a substantial amount of anxiety could have been prevented on every side had our communication been more efficient. I would like to discuss the situation in a nonjudgmental setting. Would you be willing to talk to us, Patton?”

The baker fidgeted with Virgil’s hoodie nervously, shrinking a little under all the attention. The younger man in his arm gave him comfort, though.

“Of course! I’ll do anything to make it okay. I’m really sorry I did this.” He promised softly.

Logan took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with it. Patton feared he was trying to hold back his anger. They were all here and stressed because of him. He had thought they had figured it out together yesterday but this time, he really was the one who had messed up. Never, in a million years, had he expected Logan to fall apart like that because of something he had said. He was still shaken to the core by the detective’s sudden vulnerability.

“Patton, may I ask you to stop apologizing?” Logan asked gently, finally looking at him through slightly reddened eyes. “There is no need to blame yourself. You have done nothing wrong. No one is upset with you. We merely wish to prevent further misunderstandings.”

“Oh.” Patton muttered, suddenly realizing just how much he’d been apologizing with a rush of shame. Trevor had told him how irritating his stupid repetitions were.

“I’m sorry.”

The words were out before he had any hope of composing himself. His breath caught in his throat, heat flooding his cheeks. He barely swallowed the urge to apologize for failing even at this simple request. Not knowing how to fix the situation, he fell silent, waiting for them to scoff at him. He had been doing so much better yesterday, why was he here again? Couldn’t he learn?

“It is alright, Patton.” Logan offered mercifully.

“But… I hurt you. I didn’t mean to.” Patton added, somehow trying to convey how sorry he was. He couldn’t seem to forget the look on his friend’s gentle, handsome face.

“I never believed you would harm me intentionally, Patton. You could not have known that your confession would cause me such anxiety. Addressing a topic that needs to be discussed is your right and I would like to encourage you to continue to bring such issues to my attention without fear. It lies in the nature of psychological triggers to cause severe reactions despite appearing insignificant to others. Perhaps, to improve your comprehension of the situation, I ought to explain that I was taken back to a memory from my childhood. Due to the fact that I am autistic, I read situations wrong quite frequently and thus unknowingly alienate my peers. I am afraid my failure to understand the discomfort you have felt in our home has forcefully reminded me of the possibility of a misinterpretation of the personal relationships in my life.”

Patton stilled, trying to take Logan’s words in. There was so much that hit him right in the heart. Logan was autistic? He felt like a light had been turned on suddenly and was illuminating their interactions in an entirely different way. He wanted to ask a million questions! This actually made a lot of sense. His head was spinning with the revelation and the new understanding it brought. He could picture little Logan quite clearly now, trying to understand the things that were still difficult to him now, but must have been impossibly confusing back then. He must have been so hurt by the other children! Pain shot through his chest like a living, furious thing ripping at his organs. Little wide eyed, nerdy, vulnerable Logan appeared before his mind’s eye and it felt like a punch, like he was drowning in sorrow. Patton had put him through that again. He was such an idiot, how could he have missed it? Logan had doubted himself so badly and he knew how much that hurt. Patton should have known sooner, Logan had obviously struggled with reading a room, but he had blinded the baker with how skillfully he handled all of his messes with his deep, commanding voice and confident hands. It was just that sometimes he lost control and showed how hard everything must be for him. Though he badly wanted to apologize again, to tell him how sorry he was for causing all of that stress and anger, especially after Logan had comforted him, he wanted to reassure him even more.

“I’m – but – you know that I care about you, right? I was just being stupid. Please don’t think that I or anyone else doesn’t trust you or doesn’t love you so much! You are the best friend I’ve ever had. You protect me and help me and I really – it’s really all my fault, you did nothing wrong! You are the smartest, kindest, most great and amazing man I’ve ever met! Ever! You’re a savior – my savior. Please believe me, everyone here loves you so much!” Patton exclaimed, helplessly grabbing Logan’s hand in his attempt to make him see. There was so much he felt for his friend, his heart was so full, it would burst if he felt more for Logan. He could barely handle himself from how much he wanted. He had never, ever wanted someone to know he was loved as much as him.

The detective startled as his hand was clutched, gently returning the hold. His smile was bittersweet.

“Thank you, Patton. Your kindness is appreciated. Perhaps I ought to have told you two sooner. It is possible that I still, subconsciously, attempt to pass for a neurotypical person. A foolish attempt, certainly. I will try to be more honest with you from now on.”

“You’re not that bad, man.” Virgil mumbled bashfully, awkwardly trying to break the silence that had fallen over them as they processed the detective’s words. They clever young man was clearly unsurprised by Logan’s confession. Roman smiled at him for his contribution, silently comforting his partner.

“I am… relieved to learn our relationship is not damaged beyond repair. And I would like to remind you once again that you do not need to apologize or take the blame for my issues. They are quite beyond your control.”

“What my bumbling, brilliant best bud is trying to say-” Roman chimed in, giving his friend a break, “is that we all have our little issues. They give us character and that is charming! They are part of our exciting origin stories! Even I, fearless Detective Roman Prince, owner of the Medal of Valor, have my own demons to vanquish.” He boasted, raising his free arm dramatically to pose. Suddenly feeling the supportive, undivided attention of his friends rest heavily on him (even the pest sniffed at his nose), he grew a little more quiet. Talking about his triggers was not fun, even for one as marvelously brave and exceptionally well adjusted as Roman. However, if he wanted his lovely dorks to finally open up, someone needed to make the start.

“I… you know my sister died from an overdose, right?”

Patton gasped.

Or maybe not. Oops.

“Oh my god, I am so so sorry for springing that on you, fair Patton! But all is well, please don’t fret. I shall tell you about it all another time if you like. You truly mustn’t worry about me.”

Patton nodded bravely, clutching onto Logan’s hand hard and holding Virgil so tightly he wheezed a little bit. Roman worried for his ribs. Yet knowing this conversation must be had in order to coax Patton – and perhaps even his stormy night – to open up, he marched on.

“So, because of my sister, I don’t handle drug abuse and such issues as glamorously as I usually do. And… because of… reasons…” Roman trailed off lamely, not trusting Patton’s bright eyes enough to also tell him about his neglectful childhood. Forcefully cheerful, he continued, “Yes, so sometimes when people ignore me intentionally or not or things get too silent around me and no one pays attention to me I feel really sad and lonely, like no one will ever love me again.”

Smiling brightly, Roman was met with deafening silence.

From the other side of their group, Patton lunged at him and yanked him into his arms, squishing Logan and Virgil between them with strength born from pure protectiveness. He appeared emotional beyond words.

Roman floundered a little, unbalanced by the awkward hug. It wasn’t so bad, though. Patton had somehow managed to climb half into Logan’s lap in order to get his arm around Roman, conveniently allowing the detective to hide his still flushed face in the baker’s neck and cushioning him between Patton and his rat. Poor Virgil had simply been dragged along – which he would have never allowed anyone else to do. To prevent him from tumbling off the couch, Logan had wrapped a quick, steadying arm around him, drawing his skinny body close. Virgil pawed and shifted against them a little, growling and grumbling, before sagging between them with a defeated sigh. The fuck was he supposed to do?! Tell Patton to release the suddenly iron tight grip on his hoodie? He didn’t think so.

“Uh, are you alright, dearest Patton?” Roman inquired tentatively. The baker nodded, obsessively nuzzling the young detective’s face with his own like a bespectacled cat. It was hard not to feel soft and faint when he was loved so obviously. Carefully, he brought his arms up to wrap around Patton – and Logan as a consequence, and Virgil on the other side, safely pulling him against his large body, lending stability to their embrace. The barista folded his slender limbs just right to fit between Logan and Patton pleasantly, just where they needed him for their comfort.

“It’s all good, lovely Patton.” Roman rumbled softly, filling the space between them with his deep, smooth voice. “We all fight our dark little demons that cling to our hearts, trying to tell us how small und unwanted we are. They are quite wrong, though, and sometimes we need someone to show us that.”

Remembering the path that brought him to confidently bump shoulders with Logan or push his head against his side for cuddles when they were working too quietly made his insides swell with emotion. It was a path both Patton and Virgil were walking right now; one they could join Logan and him on.

“Life is like a dance, my dear.” Roman murmured into curly brown locks. “Even when you found the right partner, learning the rhythm and the steps has to be done together, whether it’s a passionate tango where you twirl and dip your partner or a comfortable waltz where you quietly hold each other close. Even Logan and I had to find the right way to twist and twirl around each other. And we stepped onto each other’s feet plenty.”

Logan huffed softly, remembering the tense beginning of their partnership all too well and not missing it in the least.

“We were blessed with quite differing tempers, Logan and I.” Roman elaborated lightly. “I wanted his attention badly and tried to mold myself to what I believed to be his wishes. Every failed attempt to gain his approval felt like a person failure and discouraged me greatly. At the same time, Logan wanted my glittering friendship but felt irritated since he lacked the competence to appreciate my performance!”

Logan groaned, tentatively adjusting his hold on Virgil, staying very still otherwise, so as not to make Patton uncomfortable with their close proximity.

“Our cooperation suffered from a server lack of communication, as it turned out.” He added to Roman’s explanation.

“True! I mistakenly believed my stiff partner to wish for a boringly rugged, brash colleague to brood with – like Bruce Willis and such heroic, bland heterosexuals. There really isn’t a lot of material to mold my performance after, let me tell you! A travesty! But alas, we solved that pesky issue and I got to be the blessing you know and love!” Roman boasted, jostling a grumpy Virgil with his constant need to move around to embellish his story.

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, the young detective shifted so he could gently capture Patton’s chin to make him look at him. He wanted him to understand how much he understood his continued insecurity. The baker shyly returned his gaze.

“Having found our style doesn’t mean everything was suddenly easy, though. Friendship takes time, and practice.” He explained kindly. Releasing him again, he made sure to smile lovingly at the unbalanced little thing.

“Logan tried to show – in his own way – that he accepted me. But we were still two different people with different needs. I was cared for. For a long time, however, I suffered days where I could not see it. Logan needs a professional routine and sometimes silence to be able to work and I… I don’t do well with silence. When we worked a case, I sometimes got lost in my head, thinking Logan ignored me or that I had done something wrong, and he was pushing me away on purpose. As a response, I tried to gain his attention and approval any way I could think of – alienating and irritating him in the process.”

“Oh RoRo, I’m so sorry!” Patton mumbled tearfully.

“Oh no, Patton, love, it’s all good – all’s well that ends well, right? Logan might have been unsure of what to do with a colorful delight such as myself, but having learned how much I wanted our friendship, he was determined to be there for me.”

Logan, having tensed during the story about their frictions, relaxed very slightly.

“Being the literal nerd that he is, he decided to do what worked last time and took me out for a drink. Cocoa, this time, since alcohol is vile and disgusting, seriously! And he asked me what I needed from him, which is charming, but also slightly lacking in presentation – a renewed declaration of platonic love and perhaps a bouquet would not have gone amiss- ow!”

Feeling Logan’s annoyance and knowing he was still too mortified to draw attention to himself, Virgil took pity on him and poked Roman on his older friend’s behalf. All of them cringed at Roman’s high-pitched wail.

“Alright, alright!” The dramatic detective whined, trying to get back to the story. “So, my dearest, most beloved partner made an effort to adjust to my needs and we talked – dreadfully boring, I know. No grand declarations of friendship for me! However, we found ways to make me feel more welcome and cared about, which took a bit of experimenting, as you can imagine! Oh! I was sure Logan made a book about it with graphs and such but I never asked!”

The stubborn silence of the older detective spoke volumes. Roman grinned brightly.

“See, lovely Patton, the result of our efforts! Before learning to understand each other I would have missed the romance of a journal dedicated to my wellbeing – which I wanna see, pronto! And I would not have gotten quiet cuddles during his silent phases to be reminded of his undying devotion to me, or have his bickering, which is his attempt to reach out and shower me with the attention I so deserve!” Roman cheerfully explained, his eyes shining. He loved remembering all the little ways Logan tried to make him feel loved.

“A dance between two people can look all sorts of ways, you know?” He elaborated. “Ours includes little ways of supporting each other which might not even look that nice to the uninvited spectator. How is one to know that our bickering and roughhousing is a sigh of our epic bromance, grown through trial and tenacity?”

Quietly, Logan spoke up finally.

“I am afraid Roman is giving me too much credit. He actually handled our relationship with much more skill and subtlety than I would have ever been capable of. I had long feared making him uncomfortable with my unapproachable ways and complaints and had few, ineffective ideas about how to rectify the situation.”

Curiously, Patton eased his death grip on Roman, wanting to give Logan all of his attention. Their desperate knot of limbs eased into a comfortable huddle, thanks to Roman and Patton adjusting their hold on their partner and kiddo.

“You must certainly have noticed that I tend to come across as rather cold and intimidating, which I am aware of - mostly. Unfortunately, I did not yet know how to make myself more approachable. Additionally, I had offended more than one colleague with my inappropriate reactions and feared a repeat my mistakes with Roman. As a result, I attempted to limit my verbal interactions to the bare essentials, or – frequently failing to uphold this intention – talked too much and too clinically out of nervousness. Roman invested a considerable amount of care and effort into the improvement of our communication, which I am grateful for. He supported me by patiently explaining my failures and helping me improve, and even by taking control of situations that have threatened to emotionally overwhelm me.”

“Awww!!!” Roman gushed, grinning so brightly his eyes shone and his whole face lit up attractively. He was stupidly pretty and Virgil was not okay.

“There is no need for applause, my beloved fans!” The young detective exclaimed, raising his manicured hands to calm imaginary masses. “That bouquet I never got will do just fine! And that journal about your attempts to friend-court me – I demand you hand that over!”

“There is no such thing as a ‘friend-courting’ journal.” Logan growled, shuffling about feeling uncomfortably bashful in their cuddle pile with Roman half draped over his back. He didn’t dislodge his partner’s chin when it came to rest on his shoulder, though.

Patton watched their grumpy, yet somehow soft interaction though a now clear gaze. Logan looked annoyed and flustered and Roman was being a demanding diva, yet they were intertwined in friendly cuddles. The baker was still feeling a little tense whenever their deep, rumbling voices dropped low (or high, in Roman’s case), but there was no denying the tenderness filling their interactions. Ducking his head close to Virgil, he was reminded of how thoroughly he had messed everything up today. Their love had always been so obvious to him and now he could barely look at Logan without shame.

Shifting uncomfortably under Patton’s arm, Virgil started fidgeting with a loose thread on the soft cardigan he was pressed against.

“When I got here, I thought Logan and Roman would lock me in.” He muttered softly even as his face heated and his heart started hammering. Nausea was already making its way into his throat, yet he knew Patton needed to know he wasn’t alone in this.

The pâtissier tensed, his breath catching with surprise. Startled, he looked up at the pained faces of the detectives looking down at the bowed, purple head.

“They didn’t, f’course. I was just being stupid paranoid. Logan gave me a key and a room I could lock and Roman was – he was a good guy. They both were. They never asked for anything or pushed me or… I was making a lot of stuff up and kept making everyone nervous cause of it. Logan had to arrest me, you see, cause of the Scorpions. I wanted to leave and he didn’t know that yet, cause I’d botched it, and I’d hurt Roman and… I should’ve been in jail and I didn’t understand why I wasn’t. They even risked their lives to save me which I just didn’t get. So, you know – I made up reasons for their kindness for a long time and started looking for clues to support my ideas and I kept reading things Roman did wrong, and he knew. I was a screw up and kinda anxious and aggressive and Logan kept calming me and Roman kept miserably trying to not scare the screw up, which is nice, man. Thank you.” He muttered softly, daring to glance up at Roman for just a moment.

“But it’s okay, man. I’m starting to understand them better. There’s stuff I can do here – stuff I’m good at. I’m getting more comfortable with myself and that makes me less anxious about them and that makes them more calm – especially Roman. Logan is just – he’s really good at handling all that. He’s calm and - steady. And now I feel like… like things are getting better? But even that doesn’t mean they are perfect. I get… I still get issues and nightmares and stuff and I get angry, kinda a lot. Somehow, Roman knows how to deal with me when I’m like that. I don’t – I have no idea how he does it.” Virgil mumbled, trailing off softly.

The group was very quiet, sensing he had to gather his courage.

Clearing his throat and making extra sure not to look up from the protection of his bangs, Virgil took a deep breath.

“I thought I’d gotten it under control, with you. Helping you. But I messed it up big time, didn’t I? I scared you and I wanna explain it to you, you don’t have to forgive me.” He cut Patton off before he managed to speak, gently capturing his soft hand and squeezing it, trying to swallow the pounding, frantic emotion brewing in him.

“It’s just - I’m just mad at the world for not leaving you the fuck alone. Things keep happening all the time to you, and Remy and Logan try to help calm me but I - sometimes I can’t deal with it any other way! I just hate that you get hurt. I just- I just want you to be happy. That’s why I’m mad. Not at you, but… for you, I guess.”

Patton sighed deeply, feeling tears gather. His kiddo. He was so small and frustrated and helpless and Patton could see what he meant. He understood, suddenly.

“Oh. I hadn’t- I hadn’t thought of that. I just thought you’d be mad at me because – because I-”

“No one’s ever really mad at you, man. You’re a literal fucking angel.” Virgil interrupted tiredly.

“Language!”

“Sorry, man.” Virgil muttered demurely. But fuck him, he was tired. Emotions. He wanted back into Logan’s bed and snuggle up with him. He had the feeling if he fell asleep with his older protector, Logan would end up being the big spoon and that sounded quite safe.

“I get it, though. I’m doing this a lot to you, aren’t I? I get mad all the time cause I’m an aggressive screw up and you have to take the fall. I didn’t notice I was making you nervous, but I’ll figure it out, okay? We can make you feel safe if you help us understand what’s got you spooked.”

“Okay.” Patton agreed finally. “But you have to stop saying you’re a screw up! You’re not! You’re the smartest kiddo I know and I am so proud of you! You mustn’t feel bad because I get a little anxious sometimes! I just love you a lot and want things to be well!”

“Sure, Pat.” Virgil promised, deflating after his emotion-dumping was finally done. He could see the worry on Patton’s face, see his mind working with his attempt to figure out what exactly Virgil had been afraid the detectives would do to him, but that horrifying conversation could wait till another day. Preferably in ten or twenty years. Or never.

Meanwhile, Patton was looking up at all of them. At Roman comfortably draping himself over Logan’s back, letting him take his weight while he wrapped his arms around his older colleague, lacing his fingers over the others stomach. At Logan still trying to avert his gaze despite keeping a gentle arm wrapped loosely around Patton’s back, and at Virgil who was involving himself in a staring match with Cat who had rolled away, clearly contemplating whether he wanted to drag the moody raccoon into their mess.

Cat hissed at him.

Bristling, Virgil hissed back.

“I- um.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to Patton.

“I wanted to thank you, for opening up and telling me all that. I know it must have been hard.” He murmured softly.

There was so much he was still thinking about. Their exchange was like nothing he’d ever experienced. The way they all had learned to look out for each other because they had hurt their friends unintentionally gave him hope. These men were so kind and tender with their loved ones. They truly thought about their friend’s problems and tried to change in any way they could to be what the others needed. He had wondered how men such as Logan and Roman, who were so different, had managed to become so in tune with each other. It seemed like they had worked hard to get where they were and now, they were offering the same effort to Virgil – and to him. He was awed by their willingness to forgive his failures and the pain he had caused. He’d grown used to bearing the pain alone and being the one to keep trying to adjust, to do better and offend less and please a partner who wouldn’t be pleased with himself. He’d never been looked after this way.

With renewed confidence, he smiled at them, genuine and grateful.

Finally, Logan smiled back.

Though his posture was still not as confident as usual, the expression transformed his face and made him look soft and approachable. Like the kind of man that would soothe a defensive creature like Virgil with calm words or heal Patton with his gentle hands on him.

“There is no need to thank us, Patton. Considering the amount of times we have misunderstood each other, a conversation is long overdue and will benefit all of us.”

Patton’s little heart fluttered at the smooth tone of that deep voice. It was like Logan was intentionally speaking more quietly in order to soothe him. The pitch made his dark voice all kinds of rumbly. Patton felt a little nervous flutter upon being spoken to that way. Trying not to let his silly reaction show, he plastered a big smile onto his face.

“Okay. Alright. So it looks like it’s confession time! Buckle up, kids!”

Roman grinned at him encouragingly.

“Okay.” Patton said again, trying to sort out his thoughts and make the words come. Whenever he opened his mouth to speak it was as if something lodged itself into his throat, snatching his breath away. How did you tell your friends who had washed the blood off your body and accepted you into their home that he had been uncomfortable in their care? It was impossible.

Virgil leaned away from him briefly to snatch up Cat, somehow avoiding the sharp claws that tried to free her from emotional support duty. Snorting, Virgil pressed her back against his stomach and settled her into his lap, aggressively loving her.

“You’re a bristly beast, you know that? You keep pulling threads and gnawing on the furniture and you have an attitude.” Cat snapped her jaws at him. “That’s okay.” Virgil promised. “I dig it.”

Wrapping his arms around her more comfortably, Virgil allowed her to leave if she wanted to. She bit his thumb with sharp little teeth before curling her fluffy, striped tail around his elbow and settling in.

Patton laughed softly, recognizing the attempt to make him more comfortable with his confession. He loved Virgil so much.

“Okay.” He whispered one last time. “So, I – I sometimes get a bit antsy, because Trevor and I – we used to fight a lot. I can be a little difficult, after all. And I guess I got a little used to looking for reasons to worry, since there was always another thing to argue about. And you all didn’t do anything wrong! You are all wonderful and I know you wouldn’t do anything mean! But… there are some things I felt- that made me a bit… insecure, I guess.”

“What things are those, sweet Patton?” Roman inquired gently, keeping his voice soft.

“Oh, just little things. Nothing to worry about! I’m just overly nervous, is all! I guess I’m just too sensitive.” Patton confessed, trying one last time to avoid making his friends uncomfortable. Neither of them took the bait, though.

“Pat, it’s okay.” Virgil nudged him with his shoulder before grabbing Nugget’s middle as it tried to climb over them to get to its human and settled it into his friend’s arms. It curled its head and rolled into a purring ball.

“Yes, right. Sorry.” Patton amended. “So, I just worry sometimes, when I get nervous from time to time and start expecting things, when someone raises their voice it makes me a bit frightened. And… you guys just bicker with each other sometimes - when Roman starts complaining I get worried you guys might fight and when Logan has something to complain about because we make a mess, I worry that things might get… bad. And… and sometimes when Virgil gets annoyed at something – which I think is wonderful! I love that you’re passionate – but I – I just hear nothing but the tone, sometimes, and not what is being said. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

The group grew very quiet after Patton’s confession. The pâtissier was stoically looking at the kitten, trying to hide the gathering tears, while the men in his life tried to come to terms with his confession.

Finally, Roman reached around Logan and wrapped a warm, large hand around Patton’s where they were cradling the kitten. “It’s not stupid, sweet Patton. Your feelings are natural and you deserve to have them taken into consideration.”

“Yeah, man. We’re really sorry.”

“I too, would like to extend my apologies for causing you discomfort.” Logan added quietly. “I should have realized how our behaviour would affect you, considering your experiences.”

Patton quickly rubbed at his tears and tried to find his smile. He was usually good at pulling himself together and chase away everyone’s worry with a joke, but his tears just kept coming. It was the warmth of Virgil at his side, so slender and still supportive like a solid, graceful steel construction wrapped around him. Logan held him in a tentative hug and Roman towered over him, gently caressing his fingers buried in fur. Patton was warm and surrounded by loving people with tender hands on him and a raccoon that was drooling on his sleeve where it had rested its head. It was so much better than he’d ever dared dream of. He’d forgotten how much he had hoped for this. For a home. The realization that he was right in the middle of this group, cradled and protected and wanted washed over him. Even though he was being stupid.

“Thank you. So much.” He muttered, his voice thick with tears. “Please don’t change. I’ll be fine. I’m so happy to be here.”

The three men exchanged a look over his light brown curls, silently promising each other to come back to this topic and to make sure Patton always knew he was safe no matter how much their bickering got out of hand. For now, their beloved baker appeared tired enough to fall asleep in their arms.

“We are pleased to know you are enjoying our company. The feeling is mutual.” Logan noted carefully. “However, if it would be acceptable to you, we would like to continue working on making you feel safe with us like we have done for each other before and like you have been with us since the beginning of our friendship. It will not cause us any trouble. Additionally, I would like inform you of an offer Dr. Emile Harris asked me to relay to you.”

Virgil perked up slightly, hopefully raising his head to listen.

“Remy mentioned that he would like to visit us soon in order to spend time with me and personally continue his sessions with Virgil. Additionally, he would like to bring his husband with him who he explained appears to be quite fond of you. Roman has graciously offered to take the children to the park to entertain them… if you are amenable to being in the company of Remy’s husband, of course.”

Wiping his eyes dry with his long, soft sleeve, Patton thought the offer through. Remembering Emile with his sweet smile and warm eyes and his gentle playfulness with his children made him feel safe already. Talking to him had cleared so much up. Perhaps he could help him figure things out before they got out of hand next time, so he wouldn’t hurt anyone again. He’d really been silly. Sitting here, on this very couch he’d dreamed about, with his very own adorable baby kitten in his hands, he could hardly understand how he could have forgotten how much he loved it here. He never wanted to forget again. And he wanted to see Emile. It was difficult not to tell Logan it was all fine and to try not to cause more effort for everyone, but he could feel so clearly how much his friends wanted him to get better. Like Patton wanted with Virgil. He wanted his kiddo to heal and be happy and Roman to never feel unloved again and he wanted Logan to know he was so so cared about and just perfect the way he was. He wished he could see how amazing he truly was. Patton had so many feelings about his man. He longed to… do so much. Make him feel so much. They were all here to take care of each other, and if he wanted to look after them, perhaps he should let them help him as well.

“That would be lovely. Thank you.”

Roman grinned, immediately cheered up by the idea of going to a playground, dressing up and playing knights and princess and fighting dragons. Virgil, too, seemed to nestle against Patton more calmly. Reassured that his family was feeling secure, Logan finally relaxed properly in their cuddle pile. His breath left him in a deep sigh as Patton carefully leaned against him, rubbing his cheek against his wool sweater. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the silky curls.

***************************************************

End of chapter notes: So we ended in a cuddle pile again because who needs variety.

Once again, if you guys feel like supporting me, here’s the old Ko-fi page link :)

The app Virgil is programming wasn’t supposed to be in the story, actually. It just jumped at me that it would be a cool project from them to share because Virgil needs to build things again and Logan loves his plants and data. And ACTUALLY my boyfriend is making that very same app because our f*cking lemon tree keeps dying. I’ve bought him another one last year and it is constantly on the brink of death. The Failure is real. We manage to make it grow leaves and they keep falling off again. Every.fricking.time. The fucker. (We’re both having issues at this point). The app will be available sometime this year with his sensors and all. If you have a plant that keeps dying on you and you are as stupidly stubborn as Logan, I’ll post a link and you can nerdily try to save it. I’ll keep you updated because my boyfriend is making an app all on his own and I am just so darn proud of him!!! (And Virgil can program it with Logan which will be adorable and get Virge out there again).

ART:

@olcia46 made another edit I’d die for. I just think they are so pretty! The colours, the outline of the boys, all of it!

and I’m not even certain if I shared this LOVELY picture of @galaxy-sketch of Virgil and Nicodemus sitting on a counter yet but it’s lovely enough to look at twice!

Next Chapter

#Detective AU #Keep him safe #Sanders Sides #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Roman Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Prinxiety #Logicality #my writing #Eva writes

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nxrthmizu · 5 years

Text

-Lordbug, Robin and Kitty Noir- Chapter Two: In Which Damian Gets Soaked

/Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven//Part Eight//Part Nine//Part Ten//Part Eleven/

Description: Idk it’s just fluff man

Warnings: Cursing I guess that’s it

---

Kitty Noir. Damian hummed under his breath, the name sounding around his head. Black Kitty. Hey, at least his ‘partner’ had a name worse than Lordbug.

“Damian! How dare you take the Ladybug miraculous without telling me!” To say that Fu was furious was an understatement of the century. Wayzz had, of course, told his master once Damian bounded back to ask ‘What the hell I can’t kill them’.

Damian tried not to look guilty (Because he didn’t feel guilty, really!), and gave Master Fu a bored expression. “Face it, Fu, if I didn’t take the miraculous, <>those monsters would still be out there.”

Master Fu tried to think of a good punishment, and then walla- There the solution was. “Damian, as your punishment, you will be the Ladybug miraculous holder until after Hawkmoth is defeated.

---

Damian groaned, slamming face-down onto his bed in the Chinese-themed room. Great. He was stuck with ‘Lordbug’ permanently. If he knew that was going to happen, he wouldn’t have come up with such a cringey name.

“Are you okay, Damian?” Tikki’s chirpy voice asked him worriedly.

“Do I look okay to you?” Damian snapped, having swapped from French to English in the heat of his anger.

“Well, if you want me to speak English, I can.” The Kwami offered. “I’ve been to England before.”

“Just shut up and go away!” Damian growled loudly at the Kwami, who flinched, clearly afraid of the dark-haired boy, who planted himself back in his bed, refusing to do anything else to kill the time.

---

“Marinette! Wake up, kid! You’re going to be late!” The cat Kwami fussed over his holder as she got up groggily.

“I’m up- Goodness, what time is it?”

“It’s already seven!” Plagg screeched, dragging Marinette’s bag towards her but failing due to its weight and his size, causing the girl to laugh lightly as she picked the bag up, cuddling the little Kwami even while he protested.

“Alright, grumpy kitty.” Marinette chuckled. “Let’s go to school.”

And for once, she wasn’t late.

When she stepped into her class, though, it seemed that a lying fox had beat her and was earlier than she was.

“Hi everyone, I’m Lila Rossi. Please take care of me.” The girl introduced in smiles and sunshine and rainbows- Before taking a seat at Marinette’s place.

“Um, sorry. That’s my place.” Marinette apologized.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I have hearing problems. I must sit here.” The girl pouted sympathetically. “Besides, shouldn’t you be taking care of that new boy?”

“Yea, girl.” Alya grinned, looping her arm around Lila’s affectionately. “I’ll take care of Lila.”

Marinette turned, meeting eyes with a dark-haired boy sitting at the very end of class. He frowned at her, watching her as she headed up to him, plopping down next to him.

“I’m Marinette.” She smiled sweetly. “The teacher told me about you. You must be Damian Wayne. Do you want a tour of the school?”

Inside her bag, Plagg peeked out, glancing at the green-eyed boy. “How could Tikki choose such a holder?” The Kwami hissed angrily. “He isn't worthy of my cat!”

---

“Thank you.” Damian thanked, not really being thankful but just being polite. Marinette shot him a sweet smile.

“No problem! Should we get back to class?” Marinette smiled.

---

It was going to be his first night patrolling. He stashed a few knifes and Batarangs into his utility belt, and agreed (Reluctantly) to let Tikki come along.

Opening the window to get out of the stuffy bedroom, he shot off his grappling hook, retracting it as he leaped out of the window into the dark nocturnal atmosphere.

Jumping from building to building was quite the stress reliever for him, with a flush of lights and colors a blend of the city of love. Tikki, safely hidden inside his hood, watched everything with an eye of awe. She had never really gotten to see Paris- Or whatever city it was at that time- Because she was always in the transformation when her Ladybugs went swinging by. She had never been able to enjoy the beautiful view, or the thrill. Clearly, Damian was enjoying himself, too.

After a while, the Kwami of creation had fallen asleep, only to be awoken when she felt the vibrations of her holder speaking to himself. “Who’s- Is that? The girl... From this morning-” Damian was murmuring a random string of his thoughts, flinching slightly when he felt Tikki stir.

“What’s wrong, Damian?” She chirped, peeking out of his hood to see him standing on a taller building overlooking a girl on a lit balcony of a bakery. “Is that... The girl that showed you around this morning?” And Plagg’s holder?

“Yeah. Her name... I think... Marinette?” Damian was halfway between murmuring to Tikki and himself, stranding off into his own thoughts.

“You should go talk to her.” Tikki encouraged. It would be a good idea for Damian to become friends with Plagg’s holder’s civilian identity.

Scoffing, Damian turned away, preparing to move on with his patrol. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

---

“Um... Who are you?” Marinette asked awkwardly as a black, red, and yellow dressed superhero landed on her balcony.

“R-Robin.” The boy seemed to blushing as he balanced himself on the railing of her balcony, growling under his breath once a while at what seemed to be a voice in his ear. An earpiece, perhaps?

“I’m Marinette.” She smiled, “Nice to meet you, Robin.”

“W-What are you doing out this late? It’s dark and cold out.” Robin murmured, stepping off the railing and onto the balcony.

Marinette shrugged. “The night view. It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”

Robin turned to look at Paris, with it’s glistening yellow lights, and the faraway silhouette of the Eiffel tower.

He didn’t dislike Paris. He hated it.

“Yeah, it’s breathtaking.”

---

“Morning, Damian!” A chirpy voice called out, and Damian spun around to come face to face with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Tikki giggled under his hood, but a quick warning swat warned her to stay quiet, although that didn’t stop her from teasing him later.

“Dupain-Cheng.” He greeted with a little smile, because honestly, was anyone able to resist smiling around the little angel? Surely not.

“Let’s head to class!” She beamed, pointing in the direction of her- Their- Class, and nodding reluctantly, he was dragged by the little angel into their class.

---

They were walking out of school together, simply because 1, there was no one else to walk with, and 2, they were going in the same direction.

“It’s raining.” Marinette sighed mournfully, already picturing herself getting home soaked.

“Well observed.” Damian commented with a smirk, raising his hands in surrender when she glared at him.

“Marinette!” A blonde called, racing out from the school doors. Adrien Agreste. “I- Sorry for yesterday. I was only trying to get the gum off your chair.” He apologized. Her bluebell eyes widened in realization. “Um, it looks like you don’t have an umbrella. Why don’t you take mine-”

Before Marinette could say anything, Damian did. He pushed Agreste’s umbrella away, smiling tightly. “No need.” Drawing an umbrella out of his bag, he opened it in one fluid motion, smiling at his little angel.

“Shall we?”

She laughed lightly, grabbing his arm as she jumped into the rain with him, causing him to groan. “You made my shoes wet!” He grumbled, only earning another laughter and a hasty apology from her.

“Sorry. There’s a dryer in the bakery, so maybe you could get your clothes dry before you go home.” Marinette suggested, brushing a strand of wet hair out of her face.

“No thank you.” Damian turned her down, refusing straight-forwardly.

She pouted. “But-”

Before she could finish, though, Chloe’s car drove past, and upon her instruction, the driver splashed through a large puddle. Marinette flinched and braced for the impact, but not before Damian shoved the umbrella in front of her. However, in the green-eyed boy’s quick thinking to protect her, he forgot about himself, getting drenched in the process.

Glancing down at his wet clothes, Damian sighed. “Maybe I’ll take up your offer on the dryer.”

Looking at his more-or-less dry holder from inside Marinette’s bag, Plagg sighed. “I guess I should’ve know better than to doubt Tikki’s choice. Perhaps he is deserving of my cat afterall.”

---

“Oh! I just got an idea!” Marinette suddenly burst out on their way to her bakery. Damian eyed her warily.

“What is it?” He asked cautiously, having a bad feelling overshadowing.

“You could leave your clothes in the dryer, and you can go home in some of the clothes I made!” She grinned. “I’m quite sure I could find something that’d fit you.”

“You design your own clothes?” He was definitely not expecting that one coming. A familiar glint approached her eyes, and Damian felt his heart jolt.

It was the same glint that Grayson always had when he spoke of Starfire, it was the same glint that Todd had when he played with his stray dog, Bacon, and it was the same glint that Drake had when a new case appeared.

It was a glint of passion.

And it would be the same glint in Damian’s eyes when he thought about his angel.

(Tag List: @yin-390 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @constancetruggle @the-navistar-carol @never-neverland @rayray384 @mystery-5-5 @black-streak )

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list! If there are any mistakes in my writing, please contact me because this was a really rushed post (I’d deleted my fully polished and ready draft :(

School’s starting soon, but I’ll try to update as much as possible and I promise that I’ll work on drafts every free night I get. Thanks for the support on the first chapter- It was amazing how it got one hundred plus likes through one night! Thanks so much for the support y’all :)

#damianwayne #marinettedupaincheng #daminette #miraculousladybug #lordbug #kittynoir #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #umbrella mlb #new umbrella moment but daminette

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amwritesitall · 4 years

Text

Audrey Tindall Playlist

Masterlist

With Audrey’s playlist a lot of this is based on vibes, so I’m just going to put a little excerpt from the song :)

Playlist link

“Biggest Fan” by Voxtrot

I've never had much hope for my insecurities, but I love that you do. And everything that I lack and could never be, The other half is you, it's always been you. So hold on, hold on this means a lot to me. Cause I know, I know that you will always be. The one, the one, the one that I can count on for anything, anything. And I'll always be your biggest fan, and I'll always be your biggest fan.

“I Think We Danced (But I Can’t Be Sure)” by Ran’d

Go put your best dress on I'll meet you at your door And maybe tonight's just the night to take chances I've waited this whole week To sweep you off your feet And I swear I won't let you go 'til we're dancin'

“Pretty Girl” by Clairo

I could be a pretty girl Won't ever make you blue And I could be a pretty girl I'll lose myself in you

“Falling for U” by Peacy!, mxmtoon

But I can't help it I'm falling for you And I can't quit it 'Cause I'm stuck on you And it might be pathetic and you might be skeptical But I just want to be with you

“Cleopatra (Acoustic Demo)” by The Lumineers

I was Cleopatra, I was young and an actress And you knelt by my matress And asked for my hand And I was sad that you asked it, as I laid in a black dress, with my father in a cascette, I had no plans, And I left the foot prints, the mud stained on the carpet, and it hardened like my heart did when you left town But I must admit it, that I would marry you in an instant, damn your wife I'd be your mistress just to have you around

“Fool” by Cavetown

Call me on the phone at three, I talk to you while half asleep Complaining 'bout your mother so I take you to the cemetery Rant to me I like the sound, I like your voice, I like your mouth

“Astronaut Kids” by Hotel Fiction

Cause I don't need to be an astronaut who sails the sea As long as I can just hold you forever And I know I'm too old to dream and I should try to be something real And I don't need to be the man inside of the TV As long as I can just hold you forever, And I know I'm too old to dream and I should try to be something real

“Mona Lisa” by Valntn, Peter Fenn, Tray Haggerty

She's a Mona Lisa Everyone's lining up to see her There must be something 'bout her features You'll find her beauty goes much deeper Once you get to meet her

You see her walking down the boulevard She got the posture of a superstar She looks so fly in those Gucci Slides I wonder what she hides, under her disguise

“All My Loving” by The Stairwells

Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, Tomorrow I'll miss you; Remember I'll always be true. And then while I'm away, I'll write home ev'ry day, And I'll send all my lovin' to you.

“Silly Girl” by chloe moriondo

'Cause I'm just a silly girl in a stupid dumb old world I'm just a silly girl in my stupid dumb old world And he was perfect He was supposed to be

I made him perfect 'Cause I wanted him to be

“Crush” Tessa Violet

You make it difficult to not overthink And when I'm with you I turn all shades of pink, I wanna touch you but don't wanna be weird It's such a rush, I'm thinking wish you were here

“Crush Culture” by Conan Gray

Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out I know what you're doing, tryna get me to pursue ya Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out Spill my guts out, spill my guts out

“Classy Girls” by The Lumineers

She spoke of places I had never been That she had traveled to And we slow danced along to faster tunes

And I made her laugh, I made a pass I showed her my half-dollar ring She said, "That's pretty cool But classy girls don't kiss in bars, you fool"

“Build Me Up Buttercup” by Lara Anderson

Why do you build me up buttercup, baby Just to let me down and mess me around? And then worst of all you never call, baby When you say you will but I love you still I need you more than anyone, darlin' You know that I have from the start So build me up buttercup, don't break my heart

“Girlfriends” by The Academic

She's only 20 and she's driving a Bentley She's only 20 and she's driving me crazy I'm coming up, she's coming down I let your feet touch the ground She's my girlfriend

“as good as it gets” by sophie meiers

I remember the way the light fell On your shoulders that day I remember the face you made When you got the call Just throw your hope away

I type out too many messages A million things I wish that I could fix I wonder if this is as good as it gets As good as it gets

“Channel Orange In Your Living Room” by Charlie Burg

But now I can't stop thinking about you Each moment passes and my thoughts return to you And the memory of us too As we listen to Channel Orange in your living room

Even when you're away That album makes me feel like you stayed To listen now would make me a fool again for you

“Sea Sick” by binki

Sunken overboarding, I'm so sick of floating At least I'm sinking right beside you See there's no one like you It's not an obsession I just need to find you 'Cause

You could be my sunshine even when it's grey

“7PM” by Lilacs, Lizzy McAlpine

I don't usually do this But baby tell me that you love me and prove it I'm just so far away it's easy to lose it So tell me you're mine, oh I'm so stuck and I need you to pull me back out Say you love me and maybe I'll stop having doubts

“PlantedInMyMind.Memo” by Charlie Burg

You're stuck in my head But I only think of you Will we be together soon? I'm thrown on the wayside You're planted in my mind But I don't wanna be ok without you

“24 / 7 / 365″ by Surfaces

Met, this girl down by the vine Had long tan legs and big brown eyes Seemed the type I would wanna make mine

She said, I can tell you're not my type You're Mr. Wrong, I'm Mrs. Right This could never be what you wanna be tonight

“She Will Be Loved” by Maroon 5

I don't mind spendin' everyday Out on your corner in the pourin' rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay awhile And she will be loved, and she will be loved

Tap on my window, knock on my door, I Want to make you feel beautiful I know I tend to get so insecure It doesn't matter anymore

“Hey There Delilah” by Plain White T’s

Hey there, Delilah Don't you worry about the distance I'm right there if you get lonely Give this song another listen Close your eyes Listen to my voice, it's my disguise I'm by your side

“If I Die Young” by The Band Perry

And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger I've never known the lovin' of a man But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand

“Be My Mistake” by The 1975

I shouldn't have called 'Cause we shouldn't speak You do make me hard But she makes me weak

And don't wait outside my hotel room Just wait 'til I give you a sign 'Cause I get lonesome sometimes

“Letter From Last Summer” by Charlie Burg

I can't remember the name of the place Where I bought this backpack But I know it was somewhere with you in a city Where memories live of our love

Don't be a nuisance Just kiss me for longer 'Cause we have been crying as much as we've laughed Read aloud the letter from last summer So I can recall why I wrote it to you

“INC.” by Dori Valentine

My lady don't care 'bout no money She love me 'cause I'm cute She think I'm pretty funny now And all of the times we going broke It mean nothing to me now 'Cause she say that she want me She loves, loves me She loves me

“Burn Slowly/ I Love You” by The Brazen Youth

I love you like the forest loves the rain Like the water loves the drain, I love you

I love you like the wind, it loves to scream Like the child loves to dream, I love you

“Pretty Face” by PUBLIC

Do you know her? The girl that looks to you And would you love her The way that she loved you?

Such a pretty face You see her walking around It's the middle of the night And nobody makes a sound Says that she can do it but is she lying?

“Electric Love” by Mikaela Astel

Candy She's sweet like candy in my veins And baby, I'm dying for another taste

And every night my mind is running around her Thunder's getting louder and louder Baby you're like lightning in a bottle I can't let you go now that I got it

“Alignments” by Paige

I'm a liar if I told you I was coping To be honest its hard I'm a child if I cry over the small things Slowly breaking apart

And I won't blame the alignments for this one Eventually the bad days come And we run don't we?

“Just Like A Movie” by Wallows

Sneaking out, I'll try to meet you there White lights, now we're running down the stairs Everybody's wasted, throwing away their lives It's all the same 'cause no one ever tries

Through all the sounds that we're laying on the ground Don't ever care and the rest is hidden now How can it be that we are just the same? Or can it be that, can it be that?

“Million Bucks” by Smallpools

I used to be a skeptic non-believer But now it's changed, you're worth your weight in gold The richest love ain't growing on the trees out here But confidently, I can say I'm sold

Stay all-in right now Salt drips from her brow No more days without Makes me feel so right I can do no wrong We'll keep going strong

“So Far Away” by Carole King

So far away Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? It would be so fine to see your face at my door And it doesn't help to know that you're just time away

Long ago, I reached for you and there you stood Holding you again could only do me good Oh, how I wish I could But you're so far away

“Beautiful” by Jessie Mueller, Beautiful Ensemble

You've got to get up every morning with a smile on your face And show the world all the love in your heart Then people gonna treat you better You're gonna find, yes, you will That you're beautiful as you feel

“Explain It at the Coffee Shop” by Ashton Edminster

Take my hand And hold it tight Look at the paintings I'll be your guide Don't stop looking in my eyes Are you cold Do you want to sit down I've been here a million times So I know my way around Don't stop looking at me now

“My Dude” by Litany

I hope you don't think I'm being cruel Only I'm a better match for you Oh what I'd give to be in her shoes Don't you know that

I really like you And if you liked me too I could be your girlfriend You could be my dude

“Runaway Man” by Olivia Willhite

So, baby, glide Right through the sky 'Cause you didn't look back when I said I loved you Baby, goodbye And leave me with a sigh You'll eventually hit the ground, and even then I'll be waiting for you

“Calvaire” by spill tab

Chiant tu m’exaspères Quand tu pars et tu me déserte Pres de toi chui jamais fière On finit toujours en guerre

You might like: Sally McKenna Playlist or Sarah’s AHS Characters (+Alice and a Ship) as Songs I’m Vibing With

#music #playlist post #audrey tindall #audrey #ahs #roanoke #ahs roanoke #american horror story #playlist #sarah paulson #american horror story roanoke #ahs playlist #american horror story playlist

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

A Thousand Years...

Chapter 11

Heart beats fast. Colors and promises. How to be brave. How can I love when I’m afraid to fall. But watching you stand alone. All of my doubt suddenly goes away…..

Summary: A soulmate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master. – Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

A new town, a new job, and a new life, one that you didn’t even expect……

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings will include… Smut, language, unrequited/ requited love, cheating, and possibly more. This is brand new, so I will add to it as I know. Chapters will have warnings of their own if need be….

A/N: So my little cousin was watching breaking dawn in the living room, and I was folding clothes in the guest room… When the credits rolled and this song started, this fic hit me right in the face… I couldn’t escape it.

Fic Based on the Song A Thousand Years, by Christina Perri

Missed it so far or just want more in general? Check out my masterlist!!

*****MASTERLIST*****

****SERIES MASTERLIST*****

You woke up to the smell of coffee filtering through the mostly still dark house, lying alone on the couch where Jensen and yourself had fallen asleep watching TV the night before. You don't remember what time you dozed off, it had to have been late. Jensen had been very quiet all night after Danneel had dropped in for Arrow's blanket and ended up hitting him in the face. He'd said very little at all in fact. Just stared at the TV.

Neither of you seemed to want to part ways to go to sleep that night, needing to be close to one another, so you just both fell asleep where you were most comfortable.

You wanted to ask him so many questions, the main one being was he okay because even though the silence last night wasn't something that was awkward in any way or even tense, it was concerning. You wanted to know what headspace the man was in, but you didn't want to cross a boundary, and you weren't exactly sure where all the boundaries lie at this point. Everything was so known between the two of you.

Even though there had been tension and unspoken feelings since the day you'd met, you'd only been whatever this was for two days.

Sitting up on the couch you look into the kitchen and see Jensen sitting with his laptop open and his head in his hands. Getting up from the couch you make your way into the kitchen slowly, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Jensen looked up as you approached the table he was sitting at, running his hands down his face, his emerald green eyes piercing yours. He looked tired but better than he had when he'd shown back up at your apartment two days ago. You gave him a tight smile and he sat back in his chair reaching for you. His auburn hair tousled and sticking up in random directions.

You loved the way he looked first thing in the mornings. It was such a contrast to the perfect image of Jensen that most people got to see. Every hair in place and dressed and looking gorgeous in whatever he was wearing.

This side was even more beautiful to you. It was imperfect, but that's what made it so amazing to you. It meant a lot to you that he felt comfortable around you enough to be himself around you. Like he didn't have to be perfect like everyone expected him to be all the time.

You make your way into his waiting arms, and he pulls you into a timid kiss before letting you rest your head against his shoulder while he buried himself in your hair.

"Morning," you mumble, just enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you, and his perfectly plump lips resting against your forehead.

"Morning, guess we ended up falling sleeping on the couch last night," he said, with a low chuckle, brushing his hands through your hair, and nuzzling his way into you. You could have stayed like this forever, right here in his arms.

"Yeah, guess so. What's got you up so early?" you ask him, looking up to meet his gaze. Just the closeness of him had your breath hitching in your throat. You wanted to kiss him so badly, to feel his lips pressed against your own, his strong hands firmly against your body.

Jensen sat up and cleared his throat, suddenly stiffening his shoulders.

"I got a phone call from some of my family members informing me that Danneel had taken to Twitter to tell the fans that we are no longer together and that I've moved in with a younger woman just hours after she was told to leave the house. That you and I had been sleeping with each other since you started working at the brewery, and now she was filing for divorce."

You sat there with your stomach sitting at your feet.

You weren't really sure why you were shocked at all. What did you think? That she was really going to keep the fact that you'd moved in with Jensen to herself? Still, now it was out in the open...and she’d lied for a good bit of that tweet. You and Jensen hadn’t been sleeping together since you’d met, and you didn’t move in until yesterday. Still, the damage was done.

Fuck...

That means your sister-in-law as well as your brother would know by now, and probably your ex and the rest of your family.

Not that you really cared what they thought.

You made a mental note that you were going to call Crystal and Jessie later, but now was not the time to do that. Even though they knew now for sure, you weren't ready to talk about this yet when you still were so unclear about what this is.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. I was afraid she would do this, but people were going to find out about us anyway because I had no intention of hiding you. I'm not ashamed of you. The only thing that's true is that you're here with me and that she isn't. The rest we both know is bullshit."

Taking a deep breath to steady your rapidly racing heart rate you stand up and look at him. You could tell he was nervous about your reaction. You had no intention to attack him. You moved into his house knowing eventually this would get out. So you weren't even mad really, but you did need answers to something before you even started to try and talk to people, and answer questions you knew were coming.

“Jensen, I need to ask you... what really happened between the two of you?”

Jensen cleared his throat and looked down at his lap like he was almost ashamed of what he was about to say.

“Danneel and I, we’ve never had the greatest relationship, at its best, it wasn’t healthy for either of us, and at its worst, it was impossible to even live in the same house as the other. The only reason we survived being married as long as we did was that I worked off in Vancouver, and we only had to see each other on occasion. Around two years ago I came in late from Jared’s, and she blew up in my face, accusing me of sleeping with someone at Jared’s who I didn’t even know. Later that night after I went to bed she came in with one of the kid's baseball bats and hit me hard enough to cause a pretty good bruise. That was when things really started going downhill. Fights, no physical or anything, just so much fighting. Then I caught her with someone she claimed to be working with, she said she did it because she didn’t trust me. I thought I was trapped in that marriage, that she’d never let go, so stupidly I started acting out. Running to bars, coming home late, or not at all. Then you came along. She was convinced we were sleeping together. Then she saw us kiss on the camera, which was not my intention at all you know that, but she left. That was the first time she’d shown her face yesterday.”

You stood there for a moment, trying to process everything that he was telling you.

“So she hit you often?” you ask, treading lightly, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable at all.

“No, the time she hit me with the bat and yesterday were the only times she’s ever laid a hand on me. She did like to say things that got under my skin. My weight, my age, just whatever she could to try and control me.”

You had to take a deep breath to control your anger.

“She isn’t going to fight me over the kids, that was just a threat. She’s just mad. This will blow over Y/N, I promise you that. Everything is going to be fine. It’s just going to be public a little sooner than either of us expected it to be,” he said, reaching for you, pulling you close to him again.

"Jensen... What are we?" you ask him bluntly, and you could tell for a moment it didn't compute by the way he was blinking at you.

"What do you mean?"

"What are WE, Jensen? You said all she said wasn't true aside from the fact that I'm here with you, and she isn't. Well, what am I even to you? We've made a mess of this whole thing, whatever the fuck it is. I don't even know what to tell my family when they ask if we're together."

Standing up from the table Jensen settles both hands on your hips, grounding you from the impending panic attack you were well working yourself up to.

"You’re right. This has been nothing but a confusing, complicated, drama-filled mess, and that's my fault. I'm going to make this very clear right here and now. I've been in love with you from the moment I met you, I went about it wrong, I made mistakes mostly out of fear, but that's over. You're here because I want to be with you, and if you will have me I'm all in. I'm not tiptoeing around anymore trying to keep from offending anyone, or "protecting" anyone. I love you. I know it doesn't make sense, and I know we really don't even know each other, I don't care. I want us to be together. I said I was going to take this slow, but whatever has brought us together isn't going to let that happen. We're being pushed and rushed, and I'm having to do things in days that normally people would have waited months to do. I believe all the hell I've been through, and all the hell you've been through was for the sole purpose of bringing us together. Nothing happened by accident. We're here because we are meant to be here together, and I don't give a fuck who likes it."

Before you even had time to register what was happening Jensen crashes his lips to yours in a bruising kiss. Throwing all he had into it. It took you only seconds to react to him. Melting into him like he was what you had always needed.

Oxygen to a drowning person.

You needed this man.

He was right.

Everything you had gone through, all the heartache, all the hurt, it all brought you right here, right to him, and while a lot of people didn't agree with it, you believed fully that you were meant to be together. You were a goner the moment you laid eyes on this gorgeous man.

Why fight fate?

When the two of you finally broke apart from each other panting like you'd both ran a race, Jensen's hands still settled firmly on your waist, his forehead against yours, you'd made up your mind. If this was going to work, you were done with beating around in a circle about it.

You loved him.

You knew it in your bones, and if you were going to be his, then you were going to be his completely.

Taking Jensen by the hand you lace your fingers together and lead him upstairs. He follows you silently, letting you lead him into his room, and close the door behind the two of you.

"Y/N, we don't have to... I mean... I didn't mean that I wanted to..."

Closing the distance between the two of you, you throw your arms around his neck and silence his worrying by pressing your lips to his. He didn't even hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you as close to him as possible. His tongue invaded your mouth. Gliding over yours like it was just a natural thing for the two of you to do. You let him explore your mouth and have his hand snake their way under the hem of your shirt. Brushing across the skins of your lower back and sides.

By the time you pulled away and looked at him his eyes had grown darker, clouded with lust, a fire in them that made you weak in your knees. He needs you, just as much as you need him.

"You said you were all in, and we've made mistakes throughout this whole mess. Well, I say it's time we stop dancing around how we feel about each other and do some correcting. Let's fix what we screwed up, right now."

That was all the permission he seemed to need. Picking you up bridal style he carried you across the room as if you weighed nothing, dropping you down on the bed softly before shedding his shirt and climbing on top of you, hovering over you with his arms braced on either side of your face he brought his lips down to yours gently in a feather-light touch.

That's all it took in order to set your very senses on fire. A need for him like you had never known in your life burned through your veins, consuming you. Everything else seemed so silly at this point. All the fear, all the worrying about what people were going to think, all the uncertainties that seemed to tag along behind you. None of that mattered now. All that matter was Jensen, and the way his tongue felt in your mouth as it glided over yours and the firm grip of his hands on your waist.

His lips trailed to your jawline as his hands traveled slowly to the hem of your shirt. He nipped at your pulse points before looking up at you, his eyes lust blown, but also filled with more love and adoration than you had ever seen.

Slowly, never breaking eye contact with you he lifted your shirt off of you, and threw it to the floor, before snaking his hand around and unclasping your bra, and throwing it to the ground next to your shirt, taking you in for a moment as his eyes roamed over the newly exposed skin before lowering himself back over you.

"Your so beautiful sweetheart," he whispered to you as he brushed his lips over yours before trailing them down to the valley between your best, moving over to suck at each nipple with just enough pressure to make your back arch into him. His hands trailing down your body as he explored every inch of skin as if it were something precious and fragile.

Slipping your pants and underwear down in one go he left you completely bare before him. His hands trailing lightly over your hips, and down your thighs, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake as he spread your legs gently, and settled between them, looking up at you for a moment before licking a trail through your already soaking folds. A gasp fell from your lips he worked your bundle of nerves in a painstakingly slow fashion before eating at you like a starving man. The coil in your stomach growing tighter and tighter until it snapped, washing waves of pleasure through your body.

Once you'd finally come back down from you high Jensen was hovering back over you. His lips leaving little kisses on every inch of your face and neck he could reach. His thick length sitting heavily against your inner thigh as he settled himself between your legs, waiting until you made eye contact before sliding through your slick folds and settling completely inside of you in one smooth thrust of his hips. A light moan fell from both of your lips at the feeling of him stretching and filling you.

He kissed you deeply as he gave you a few minutes to adjust to him. So contradictory to the quick, rough pace, that he'd shown you the night of the charity event. This time he set a slow, steady rhythm, driving deep with everything thrust of his hips, keeping your bodies as connected as possible as he practically rutted into you, not really even pulling out all the way before shoving back home, hitting places that you never knew it was possible to reach; driving your body higher and higher. You held onto his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself in reality, but it was no use. Every touch, every taste, every sense was all him. He was all you could feel, and all you could see.

Jensen burried his head into your shoulder as he became closer to his release. Little moans and pants falling from his lips as he reaches his hand between your bodies, finding your swollen clit and rubbing harsh circles to match his deep pace, determined to make you fall over the edge you were on with him.

Your orgasm hit you completely by surprise, taking you so that your hearing faded for a moment and everything went white. Jensen's name fell from your lips like a prayer. You felt the moment that he lost control in one deep, hard thrust, stilling inside of you as he spilled himself into you, your walls milking him for all he had to give you.

Once you had both recovered, Jensen slowly removed himself from you, getting up after giving you a quick peck on the lips to retreive a damp rag out of the bathroom, cleaning you up before he cleaned up himself and climbing back into the bed, not bothering to redress, pulling you tight to his chest and wrapping his arms around before tangling his legs with yours.

Not a word was spoken. There was nothing that needed to be said. You just were. Just the two of you. Nothing in between you. Just skin against skin, two hearts beating together as you both just enjoyed being wrapped up in each other’s arms, and for the first time in your life, surrounded in perfect peace.

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Tag List:

@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @alanegaming @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67

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@winchestersuniverses

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles series #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x you #jensen x reader #jensen smut #SPN fanfiction #SPN #SPN Fanfic #fanfiction #series #a thousand years #jawritter

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berkblockman · 4 years

Text

Truth // Barry Berkman x reader

Pairing: Barry Berkman x reader Word count: 2491 Warnings: Lenguage Request: Hi! Could I possibly request an imagine where the reader finds out the truth about Barry and runs away and stays the night at a motel trying to process this information, and then Barry finds her there the next morning and begs for her forgiveness, trying to convince her he'll change? If you can't, it's fine. (a/n): Hey, sorry this took me some time. I’ve been kind of busy lately 😅 Anyway, thank you for the request. Hope you like this ❣

Holding the gun in your hands, feeling its uncomfortable weight between your palms, you closed your eyes and sighed. You did your best to get rid of the lump in your throat, but it was impossible. Confusion and desperation were slowly taking over you. At first, you tried to convince yourself that this whole thing had a completely comprehensible explanation, but the more you thought about it, the less sense it all had. There was no innocent, plausible explanation to keeping a whole stash of weapons under a mattress.

How long had been Barry keeping those in there, at the house you both shared? It was scary to just think about it. You had been living together for several months now, and to simply imagine that those guns had been there – loaded and ready to be used – since the first day you moved in had your whole body trembling in fear and disgust. And to think about the fact that you would have probably never found out about it if it wasn’t because you were trying to find a place to hide your pregnancy test to give him a surprise… You felt nauseous.

Did you even know him at all? You had been with him for almost two years now. You knew some dark things about his past as a marine and you decided to love him and accept him regardless his past mistakes, but this changed everything. This wasn’t the past. Those weapons were there now, right in front of your eyes, and they were your boyfriends. You thought the man you loved wouldn’t keep anything from you, but apparently you were deeply wrong.

Why did he need them? Those sure weren’t souvenirs from his times as a marine, so that meant he had to be using them for something else.

Was he a ‘gangster’ of sorts, like the ones in the movies you watched together?

Was he selling those weapons in the black market?

Was he a drug dealer?

Were you and your unborn baby even safe?

A thousand questions were forming in the back of your mind as you felt you vision getting blurry with tears in your eyes. Your breathing was quick and unsettling, your chest going up and down with rage when you heard the front door. It didn’t matter, anyway. You were so devastated that you didn’t move a muscle when Barry opened the bedroom’s door.

“Babe, have you seen-“ The second he watched you kneeling on the floor with his gun in your hand, he immediately hushed in realization. Closing your eyes and cursing himself under his breathe, he tried to find the courage to explain himself. “y/n, I…”

“Why?” You felt your voice cracking as a tear made its way down your cheek. Out of all the questions that were going through your mind at the moment, that was the only one you could actually form. You couldn’t even look at him.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, trying to find the right words to say.

Barry had hoped he would never had to face this moment. You weren’t the first person to find out the truth about him, his ex–comrade Chris or the Detective Janice Moss had also discovered it long before you. And he had managed for them to never say a word about it.

Not that Barry enjoyed killing, but Fuches had taught him that sometimes you have no other choice, at least not in situations where your whole life is in danger. Moments like this one. It was not something he would get any pleasure from, yet he would do whatever he had to do to save his ass, get rid of any evidence and tell himself he would be different ‘starting now’, knowing deep down that it would end when he had to cover his footsteps again. But it was a bit different now. He had grown a conscience in the time he had been living in LA and every time it was harder to pull the trigger, the regrets were stronger than ever, and he wasn’t sure that he could keep living like that anymore.

Looking at you, he immediately hated himself at the thought of taking care of this situation like he had done it before. That was not an option now. He simply couldn’t do it. Not to you. He felt disgusted at the thought of causing you any harm. At least, any more harm than the one you were already in.

Barry stood there in complete silence, wanting nothing but to disappear from the face of the earth.

“What is all this, Barry?” You finally gathered the courage to ask, feeling your heart pounding against your chest.

“I used to work as a hitman.” He began to explain, finally being sincere to you. “I want you to know that I didn’t enjoy any of it and that since I came to LA I’ve been trying to leave it all behind…” An awkward, almost painful silence took over for a very uncomfortable 10 seconds.

“If you left it behind,” You spoke again, your hand taking a firm grip around your pregnancy test, almost as if you were trying to break it, to make it disappear. “why do you keep this stuff?”

“Because I haven’t yet.” Barry answered, the feeling of self–hatred taking over his body as he realized that he had failed you. “But I will.”

“If you really wanted to, you would have done it already.” You assured, finally looking at him and giving him one of the coldest stares he had ever received. “You would have never started in the first place.” Barry could feel every word hitting like a bullet on his chest. “But you are a violent piece of shit. I should have realized when you told me about Korengal…” Every second that passed, it got harder to breathe. “I’m so fucking stupid!”

You tried to close your eyes hard enough for you to wake up, hoping that this was all a nightmare. But this was awfully real.

As you struggled to breathe, Barry carefully started to walk towards you in an attempt to help you calm down. But when you felt his hand on your shoulder you immediately pulled back and pointed the gun that you still held on your right hand towards him.

“Do not fucking touch me!” You yelled, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched the father of your future child raising his hands in a sign of surrender.

You looked at each over for several seconds without saying a single word. It was the first time you pointed a gun towards someone. You hadn’t expected to hold a gun in your life, and less to hold it against your boyfriend, but that’s how tables had turned. Barry looked at you in the eye, hoping that you would stay calm and didn’t do anything crazy. But he couldn’t do anything, he feared that if he walked a step closer to you, you would get nervous and pull the trigger.

Overwhelmed by this whole situation and knowing in your bones that you were incapable of shooting him, you angrily threw the gun and the pregnancy test into the mattress, in a desperate attempt to get rid of them. It was in that moment that he realized what that thing you held in your hand was, and as he reached for it in confusion to examine it, you quickly ran away from the apartment.

Not looking back at any second, you got into your car and started to drive as fast as you could. You had nowhere to go, but you still needed to get away. Doing your best to keep your composure, you drove silently until you found an old, crappy motel right outside the city, and not thinking about it twice, you decided to get a room to stay the night. It was already late and you definitely weren’t in the right conditions to keep driving any longer.

Your room was far from being ideal. The once white walls were full of unknown stains that you probably rather not know, the floor and furniture covered in dust and the old bed made weird noises when you sat on it. But you honestly couldn’t care less in that moment. The only thought that was occupying your mind were the memories of what had just happened, replaying in your head again and again.

Unconsciously, you placed a hand in your lower belly. What were you going to do? You were excited about the idea of having this baby. Not that you had always dreamt about forming a family, but since the moment you found out you were pregnant, you couldn’t wait for the baby to born. That was of course, before finding out the truth about their father.

Now you were alone in this, weren’t you? You couldn’t count on Barry for this, or anything. How were you going to look after the baby on your own? What would you say when they grew and asked about their father?

Maybe the best for everyone was for you to get an abortion. You weren’t sure that you could guarantee this child a safe place in this world – you didn’t even had a home now. As much as you once liked the idea of having that baby, maybe it simply wasn’t meant to be. Damn, if finding out that your boyfriend is a serial killer just when you just got pregnant is not a sign that you shouldn’t have the baby, you didn’t know what that sign would look like.

Exhausted, you got inside of the bed and closed your eyes, trying to sleep so you could forget about everything for at least a while. But it was simply impossible. It wasn’t just the uncomfortable, old and stinky mattress underneath you, your own worries and anxiety didn’t let you fall asleep.

By the time the sun came out you had probably slept for an hour and a half, and yet, when you woke up from the last nightmare of the night – one in which Barry choked you to death – you couldn’t sleep again. Giving up, you got up from bed and headed to the bathroom. You thought about taking a shower, but since there was no hot water and there was a dead cockroach in the shower plate, you decided not to.

Returning to the main room, you heard a knock on the door. Guessing it was room service – if this crappy motel had that in the first place – you decided to start gathering your things to go get some air while hoping that they would clean this place for the first time in what you supposed were years. But when you finally opened the door and saw Barry, you took a step back, feeling fear taking over your body.

“Go away.” You told him without being able to look at him in the eye, trying to think of a way to get out of there.

“I’ve been searching for you all night.” He spoke calmly, you could notice how tired he was. “I was worried about you…” Surprised at the cool temper he seemed to have after you literally pointed a gun at him, you looked at his face in detail. He seemed so miserable and tired, almost like a lost puppy. You couldn’t help but to feel sorry for him. “I couldn’t stop thinking that something had happened to you, I was so relieved when I found your car in the parking lot…”

You examined him in confusion. You wanted to tell him to fuck off, to leave you alone and to never try to reach you again. Or you wanted to do that before you saw the tears filling his eyes and the way he had been worried sick about you. You just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to piss off.

“Are you okay?” He got you out of your thoughts with that question. You nodded in response. “I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know how to tell you the truth…” Barry closed his eyes, ready to finally open himself up to you. “When I got back from Afghanistan this friend of my family, Fuches, got me into this. I didn’t have anything to hold on to at the moment and I didn’t realize what I was doing, I know it’s no excuse… But I’ve improved and I’m trying to leave all of that behind.” You looked at him in the eye, not sure that you could trust him. “I want to be a better person for you and the baby…”

“I’m not sure that we should have the baby.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breathe. You were probably both too sleep deprived to have this conversation, but you needed to have it.

“What, why?” He quickly asked.

“Because I don’t even know who you are anymore.” You felt yourself crying again. “All I know is that you’ve been lying to me about who you are.”

“All of that it’s not who I am.” He placed his hand on the side of your face, wiping away the tears that was running down your cheek. “I regret everything about it, and it’s part of the past. The only moment when I feel like myself is when I am with you, that’s what is real for me.” His eyes were examining your face, trying to decode your expressions. “I just need one chance to show you that I am not a violent piece of shit. Let me prove it to you, please.”

Feeling a lump in your throat, you stared at him in silence. You weren’t sure of what was the right thing to do anymore. He had done some awful things, that was true. But he said that he was ashamed of it and truth was that no one had ever worried so much about you. He had never been violent or aggressive to you in any way. Maybe he did deserve a chance.

“I’m too tired to decide anything right now.” You clarified. “I have barely slept all night.”

“Me neither.” He replied, he had been driving around all night to try and find you.

Still hesitating, you took his hand in yours and, after closing the door, you guided him to the bed. He imitated your moves as you lied in bed and cuddled yourself, looking in his direction.

“I think the best for everyone is to rest for a while.” You explained, your body giving in when it felt the contact of the now-not-so-uncomfortable mattress. “We can discuss everything later.”

Barry simply nodded in agreement. He was too tired to say another word. You on your side, thought that you would see things in a more clear perspective after having a very needed sleep time.

It didn’t take long for the both of you to fall asleep in each others arms.

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moshymosh · 5 years

Text

Somebody to someone

A/N: This just came to me, I’ve been listening to this song all D*mn day, but it's catchy so meh. Enjoy. (Second gif credit: I got it from weheartit. I believe the man is RDJ but if you know who this belongs to let me know so I can credit it. This is a one-shot, Lyrics are in italics, memories/ flashbacks are in bold and italics.)

A/N 2.0: I wrote this at three am, and when I read it over this morning I realized some spelling mistakes so I fixed them. Enjoy. Feel free to send requests or ideas for possible upcoming series and one-shots. Feel the beat of my hear pt 3 will be posted Tuesday/Wednesday depending on where you are in the fine world. That series might be stopping depending on feedback from the third part when posted

Warnings: Slight angst, fluffy as fuffy can be.

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x Reader, Briefly Sebastian Stan x OC!Sarah

Summary: Y/N and Seb dated for 4 years, 1 year before they broke up they had a son, Anthony. They kept things civil for their child. At a Comic con panel for a Marvel they both starred in, a fan asked for hidden talents. Y/N can sing and play guitar. Singing a special song, the lyrics hit Seb hard causing memories to come flooding back. Wanting Y/N back after all his feelings hit him hard. Will he succeed?

Song: Listen to it here Prom Queen by, Catie Turner.

Dating someone for 4 years can be a long time, but when splitting up, it makes those 4 years feel like nothing.

Y/N sat listening to the panel introducer, talk about the marvel movie she just starred in with her ex-boyfriend and father to her 4-year-old son. She smiled politely and stood as she was introduced waving to the crowd who cheered loudly for her. When she sat back down she looked back on some memories as they continued to talk about the movie.

“Seb! Where are you?” Y/N asked as she held the three pregnancy tests behind her back as she tip-toed around the kitchen listing to a reply of her boyfriend of 3 years at the time.

“In the office honey!.” came Seb’s response down the hall. Y/N walked to the doorway and leaned against the doorframe taking in the sight of Seb, sitting in the office chair looking at his emails on the wide computer screen. She slid up beside him still holding her hands behind her back.

“Honey, I have something to tell you.” She said sighing deeply. Seb turned in the chair and looked up at her with concern written all across his sharp features. She sighed dramatically and held her hands out with the test firmly clasped in them. She looked at him and smiled widely at the look of shock that now covered his face.

“Are you serious? Are you pregnant?!” Seb asked standing up and hugging Y/N to his chest laughing loudly as he spun her around.

Y/N smiled to herself at the memory, glancing off to the side of the stage where the little boy stood with, her cousin. The little boy, Anthony, held his father’s features. There was no denying that that was Sebastian’s child. Dark brown locks, with equally blue eyes. Anthony was almost like a shrunk version of the man.

She looked back to the crowd as the first fan came up to ask questions to the cast. The line dwindled down as she answered questions that were directed to her, laughing at some of her castmate’s answers and actions. Soon the last of the fans came up and had the honor of asking the final question.

“Hi, so I was wondering if any of the cast had some hidden talents that the fans don’t know about?” the shy fan nervously asked as she looked at the group sitting on the stage. Each went through what they thought was a hidden talent, demonstrating some that were easy to. When it got around to Y/N she shyly looked down. Before she could answer a deep voice answered for her.

“Y/N can sing and play the guitar, very well. I mean like very, very well.” Sebastian said as he looked at her, smiling fondly. “When she was pregnant with Anthony, she would sing and play for the little man who had yet to grace us with his presence.”

Y/N lifted the mic to her mouth and smiled as the memory came back to her. “Uh... Yeah, I guess that my hidden talent cause only a few people close to me knew that.” As she looked to Sebastian before she looked to her son. As she did this the crowd started chanting for her to show them. “ Ok. Ok. I need a guitar though.”

Soon she had a mic stand in front of a stool on the front of the stage. She stood and walked to it, sitting and making herself comfortable as someone in the crew that helped set up the mic handed her an acoustic guitar, that was hooked up to make the sound louder.

“I don’t have an original with me but I do know one song that comes to mind, it’s called Prom Queen by Catie Turner. This song means something to me, and to someone very dear to me. So uh here it goes.” She began to strum the guitar as she started the song.

I'm an iceberg

There's so much more that your eyes can't see

Two girls walk into a party

The one that gets noticed isn't me

I'm holding on

But barely, plagued by teenage popularity

It's a terrible feeling being the ghost on the wall

That's always disappearing

As Y/N began to sing Sebastian suddenly had some flashes of memories, that he hadn’t looked back on for some time.

“What do you mean you want to leave?!” Sebastian shouted as he looked at the sad woman in front of him. He had just gotten home after a 2-month long filming session that only gave him a week break to spend time with his son and girlfriend before he had to leave for another 3 months.

Looking back on this memory he couldn’t understand how he didn’t see the look of the woman that was now singing confidently to everyone. She had dark circles under her eyes, her Y/H/C hair had lost its shine, she looked skinnier than she had before. Her tear-filled Y/E/C eyes lacked the sparkle that he loved about her.

“I want to leave Sebastian, I can’t take this anymore. And will you keep your voice down, our son is sleeping, and I just had a 2-hour battle trying to put him down.” Y/N hissed at him, her arms crossing in front of her still full breast, even though she gave birth to their son almost a year ago. “You’re gone for months at a time and I’m all alone taking care of OUR son.”

Sebastian sighed and sat down on the couch heavily. Little did he know most of her things had been moved out already of their shared apartment.

“I’ll be gone tomorrow, I still want to keep things civil because Anthony needs his father.” She said tiredly, disappointed in the man’s lack of fight for his family.

Sebastian looked at her, her hair had some of its shine come back to it, she got back to a healthy weight, but her eyes still lacked that sparkle.

I'm a wanderer

I weave my way by dancin'

In hopes that the cool kids will ask me to stay

I'm invisible to bright lights

Just standing on the side line waiting for a standing ovation

That I know just isn't mine

Listening to her words he felt saddened by them, looking down at his hands. Remembering the memory of taking his son to Disney for the first time.

“Anthony! Slow down! Mommy can’t walk that fast!” Y/N laughed as the small boy tugged at her hand, running on still chubby three-year-old legs. “ Seb?! Honey?! You coming?”

Sebastian had stopped for a group of fans who wanted pictures and autographs. Y/N sighed and looked down at Anthony who had stopped as well looking at his father with slightly sad eyes. Sebastian smiled and took pictures. Laughing at jokes the fans told him. Y/N stood off to the side, now holding Anthony on her hip as she waited for him to finish.

When he finally finished, Anthony was back to his excited self. Whereas Y/N wasn’t, when Sebastian would ask her if she was ok, she would give him a polite smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Sebastian shook his head, trying to shake it from his head. Looking over at his son who was now asleep, lulled into sleep by his mother’s voice this always being the effect her voice had on him, in the crook of Y/N cousin’s shoulder as she held him, rocking side to side softly. The next lyrics struck his heart in a way he hoped it wouldn’t.

It's okay, it's okay

I'll convince myself it's overrated anyway

It's okay, it's alright

The jealousy in my bones won't rattle tonight, oh

It's okay, it's okay

I'll convince myself it's overrated anyway

It's okay, it's alright

The jealousy in my bones won't rattle tonight

“Y/N, Anthony? I would like you guys to meet my girlfriend, Sarah.” Sebastian said, his hand on the blonde woman’s lower back.

“It’s very nice to meet you. Anthony say hello.” Y/N said, shaking the woman’s hand, with tears in her eyes. Anthony muttered out a small hello. Y/N was hoping that this was a dream, but it wasn’t Sebastian and Sarah dated for 3 months before Sarah was caught cheating with another woman.

'Cause I wanna be somebody to someone

But it all is starting to blur like a dream

Burn the sash and smash that tiara

No, that's not me

I'll never be prom queen

No, that's not me

I'll never be prom queen

No, that's not me

I'll never be prom queen

As Y/N approached the end of the song Sebastian knew he had to have the only love of his life and the mother of what he hopes to be of more of his children. He knew he had to have her back in his life. The last 3 years being almost hell for him, trying to accept that Y/N will never be his again, trying to move on. All of his ways to do this failed.

Y/N sang the last of the lyrics, finishing off the song with the last cord on the guitar. The crowd silent in awe of the melodic voice that Y/N held. “Thank you, uhm. I hoped you enjoyed it.” She got up and walked back to her seat, beside Robert Downy Jr.

“I’d like to say something before we end this panel,” Sebastian said into his mic as he stood up, he walked to where Y/N was sitting previously. “I know this isn’t the right time or place for this but I don’t know when that will be.” He said softly as he looked at his fans, all of which were waiting with bated breath.

“Y/N I know I always haven’t been the best partner, father or friend.” He said looking back to the woman he was speaking to.” When I let you walk out of my life, with my son 4 years ago. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I tried everything to move on, but it never fails that when you smile at me, or you have that love in your eyes for our son, it a love that you use to hold for me. When you look at him like that I fall in love with you all over again.”

Y/N had tears running down her face, her cheeks tinged red as she tried to furiously wipe them away as they escaped her eyes. She looked at Sebastian with adoration in her tear-filled eyes, listening to his words.

“I never stopped loving you, honey. No matter how hard I tried. And…. And… And I don’t know if you still feel the same for me anymore.” He said sadly as he now had tears in his eyes, his voice trembling. “I want you back, I want our family back. I want you in our kitchen in the house we dreamed about, the one that we had our eyes on for the longest time. I bought that house, in hopes of filling it with your warmth, and your cute little snorting laugh.”

He smiled fondly as the woman let out the laugh he just mentioned, shaking her head with her hands over her mouth to block it from tumbling out her mouth. “I want it filled with the love you hold for my son. I want pictures hanging on the walls of our wedding day, pictures of our children’s first days of school. Pictures of them at their high school and college graduations. Most importantly I want a picture hanging where everyone can see, of us with gray hair and wrinkly surrounded by our children and grandchildr-.” He couldn’t finish the word as he openly cried, he cried for the love he held for her.

The whole crowd was crying but gasped when Y/N came up and hugged him tightly, and he sobbed into her shoulder as she held him. When he calmed down slightly he looked up at her “Darling, you are somebody to someone. You’re somebody to me. To me and our child.”

Y/N smiled at him tearfully, the sparkle back in her eyes as she took the mic from him. “I NEVER stopped loving you, Seb.”

Y/N and Sebastian got married a month later, 9 months after that they welcomed their second child, a girl whom they named Catie. After raising Catie and Anthony and their two other children. Their home was filled with the pictures Sebastian wanted to hang on the walls, a month later after they took the picture of the two of them old and gray, surrounded by their children and their 10 grandchildren, Y/N and Sebastian both passed away peacefully in their sleep with smiles on their faces and their hands clasped together.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #seb stan x reader #seb stan x y/n #seb stan x you #reader insert

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ninaahelvar · 4 years

Text

Chivalry Fell On Its Sword (13/23)

Summary: All Arya wanted so to feel normal and go outside of the damn castle. Now, through a series of unfortunate, she’s stuck with a bodyguard that she accidentally flirted with: Gendry Waters.

AO3

A/N: 10 motherfucking chapters to go! this will probably be my last update for the year, so i thank everyone who read in 2019, and I can't wait for 2020. I'm also incredibly close to get 1000 kudos and i cannot thank everyone enough for the love and support for this fic. it's been such a journey and it's insane that it's gotten so many people that like it. thank you for continuing to read it, and coming back with each update. (this chapter has only had minor edits made, so if there are mistakes....my bad)

The hospital cleared him, and he was sent home with little more than a nod from Brienne. The entire team was pissed at him - it was the first rule they had; you could be friends with the royals, but nothing more could come of it. Gendry loved his job at the palace, he loved his work with the Starks, and defending them was a drive he never knew he had outside of the army. The risk he took with Arya was careless, but when it was happening, he couldn’t help himself. He was in love.

He still was.

But when his mum called him, crying and yelling at him about this and that, he felt a part of him break. Of all people, his mother didn’t deserve to be like that. Gendry had heard Tailya crying too often when he was a child - it was torture to know that this time, he was the cause of it all. So he broke his own heart to save his mother the pain of further embarrassment. It wasn’t right, and he should have thought of something else, but he could only save one woman in his life the pain of his love.

At home, he sat awake, his orders from the doctor, watching endless, mind numbing television that did him nothing but want to fall asleep. Arya always made this trash seem interesting, her own personal take on the inside lives of the characters on screen. He fell in love with that. And he threw it away for nothing.

Getting home the night he ended things, he got drunk. Like way too drunk to stand the next morning. Waking the next morning was definitely an eye opener on how he felt the night before. He had to pick up the mess he created. Then, a few days later, Arya created her first mess.

Discharged, he sat at home, wondering what the hell was going to happen. It’d be a miracle if the palace kept him on. They probably thought he’d fuck up his work...again. They would never trust him in Arya’s proximity again, and never Sansa’s - though he knew what was going on with her. There were the boys, but Robb needed men that wouldn’t get distracted, and as for Bran and Rickon...well...they were odd ones to get along with. They were reckless on a level that was stupid rather than Arya’s rebellious. Stupid was hard to contain.

A knock came to his door after a few hours on his own, and he stumbled to the door. He wanted to grumble about he wanted to be left alone, but when the door swung open and guards he knew swarmed his apartment only to leave a few seconds later, he was left stunned. Especially when the King came rounding the corner and thanking the men that left.

Gendry’s mouth hung open for a solid few seconds before the words formed. It was the largest lump he ever had at the back of his throat. “Your majesty! What are you doing here?” He exclaimed, swallowing back the panic that was building within his body.

“Son, we need to talk,” The king said, clapping Gendry on the shoulder and walking past him. Ned walked like a man that was built ten times larger than most, a control over every room. He was certainly controlling the one Gendry was in.

“Would you like a coffee?” Gendry asked, patting down his pockets as though he had something to offer. He felt like an idiot when the King turned around, a small smirk on his lips.

“A beer, if you have one.” To that, Gendry blinked, nodded and went to his fridge. He got one out of Ned, but when he looked back with a stern brow, Gendry got himself one too, joining Ned on the couch. “The queen is trying to keep me from alcohol since the wedding, said I was too reckless, but I think she’s keeping me away from liquor after the accident.”

“Here you go, sir,” Gendry said, handing off the beer. Cracking the top off the bottle, Ned took a sip and smiled to it.

“So,” he sighed, looking over to Gendry, “tell me what happened.”

Gendry choked. “Excuse me?”

“With Arya? Why did it end?”

“I don’t think we should be talking about this behind her back.” He laughed it off, but the King scowled at that answer. Gendry swallowed back the lump in his throat. He may be a kind man, but that look he gave Gendry made him feel small, like the man in front of him was his father, asking him to be honest.

“That’s for me to deal with,” Ned grumbled, keeping his eyes locked with Gendry’s, making damn well sure that Gendry knew that he wanted an answer that night.

Gendry sighed, fingers combing through his hair before he rested his elbows on his knees. “I got a call from my mum that morning. She had to close the shop, because people were harassing her about me. I didn’t know what she meant and I got the article sent to me. I knew what the public was doing. They would have dug through my family, through what my mum went through with the prick that left her when he found out she was pregnant. I didn’t want her going through that. My only answer at the time was to leave Arya. I didn’t want to. I was a fucking idiot to do it, but...my mum is everything to me. I couldn’t do that to her.”

The truth spilled out, like it had been waiting all his life for a chance to explain himself, to tell someone what his truest fears were. That the man that fathered him was to blame for most of the hardship in the Waters’ family line.

The look that washed over Ned’s face made Gendry’s stomach twist, like he knew something he shouldn’t. “Do you know who your father is? Or is it -”

“I know who he is. So do you,” Gendry said, and the King confirmed with a nod, “but I don’t need that for my mum. When he left her, she was so hurt, and whenever news comes out, we shut it off. Ever wonder why it’s a stag’s head and not just a stag?” he scoffed.

“Kill the bastard that hurt her.” Ned smirked, taking a sip of his beer before he sighed, looking back at Gendry. He wondered if when the King looked at him, he saw the man he knew. “He may be my oldest friend, but it doesn’t mean it justifies the things he’s done in his past,” he confirmed.

“Will you -”

“I’ll make sure it stays out of the papers, don’t worry,” he said, and Gendry let out a sigh of relief, leaning back into his chair, a weight off his shoulders. Then, Ned continued, a strong change in his voice, deep and threatening, “but son, you’re an idiot. Get back together with my daughter. You’ve proven to me what true happiness is in that girl, and you broke her. Fix it, or I’ll make your life a living nightmare, regardless of Robert’s family name getting dragged into this,” he said, standing and making Gendry get up too. Out of respect, perhaps? But he followed whatever Ned asked him to.

“Yes sir,” he said, almost wanting to salute, but thought he’d be mocked for it. “Are you sure you want me to get -”

“You’re in love with her, you prick! Will you always be in love with her?” he snapped, and Gendry gave a knowing nod.

“Yes.”

“Then fucking tell her that,” he said, throwing his hands to the sky. “Gods, you kids are the worst, most infuriating morons I’ve ever had to be around. Making a drama out of nothing. If this happens again, you come to me first and I’ll put a stop to whatever mess is happening. That’s all you had to do, not break the love of your life’s heart,” he said, drinking the remains of his beer in one huge tilt of his neck. Gendry watched the bottle drain in a few seconds, and the King burped briefly afterwards, not even excusing himself. He almost seemed proud, probably because it meant he was on his way back to normalcy.

“Thank you for being so frank,” Gendry smiled, to which, Ned put his hand on Gendry’s shoulder, giving a smile back.

“If you were my boy, I’d bloody well hit you, but as King, I’ve been told I have to stop doing that to people that aren’t my family,” he chuckled, and part of him wanted to be the son of the man in front of him. He wanted to mean something to the man, to make him proud and be everything he ever wanted from Gendry. He wanted to be the best he could.

“I’ll try to get her back, sir,” he said, chewing on his lip before he added, “or at least make it better.”

As the King sighed, he seemed to know the challenge that lay ahead of Gendry. Better was going to be the least he could achieve. “That’s all I want,” he said, and finally, left Gendry’s home. The door was closed and Ned left without even the smallest commotion from anyone nearby. Either the streets were cleared before he got there, or his secret service team was just that good that no one could even tell he was around.

He watched the car roll away, and for the rest of the night, he knew what he needed to do; Gendry had to plan on how he needed to act, to be better. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and he had to think carefully on what to do, because it was Arya after all. Nothing came easy with her. It wasn’t like Gendry wasn’t up for the challenge, he just knew he couldn’t treat it like that.

The next day, when Arya came to his door, he wasn’t sure what she’d say. He kind of expected her to get angry, start to yell and fume like she did the day before and sent him to the hospital. Instead, she was an Arya that had never truly stepped foot in front of him. He wanted to comfort her, tell her that everything she said and did wasn’t necessary, anything to put her at ease and not have her acting like she were to blame.

“I know this hasn’t been easy. For either of us, but I shouldn’t have acted like a spoiled child about it. It wasn’t right of me,” she said, ducking her head down, Gendry felt his hands tighten at his sides. Why did she have to look so small? Why was he the cause of it all? He hated that Arya wasn’t herself in that moment, that she looked like someone so insignificant compared to who she actually was. “But you have to know…” she paused, and Gendry swallowed, wishing that the words that came out would help the situation. “You were the only person I’ve ever loved, and the first person to break my heart too.”

Gendry wanted to throw up. He wanted to collapse to his knees and beg for her to take it back, to not let herself have a broken heart because of him. “Your Hi -”

“It was always going to hurt more with this. With you. I saw myself spending the rest of my life with you. But that isn’t going to happen. It’ll be okay, but I’ll just be a little broken until it is -”

“Arya, please, just let me -”

“I hope to see you back at work soon. The palace isn’t the same without you.” She said. And still the words beckoned at the back of his throat.

Arya, please, just let me explain this, let me tell you what happened, and we can do what you wanted - we’ll work it out. We’ll figure it out together, and I won’t be the asshole that broke your heart. I’ll make everything better, just let me explain.

But he couldn’t get it out.

The princess that could have armies at her feet was a broken shell of who she once was, and he did it all to her. He broke the unbreakable, and even when men had wished to do the same thing, it meant the worst pain imaginable for him. Gendry was the only man that deserved to die, and when she spoke, her breath hiccuping at the back of her throat, he wished she had throttled him until he was in just as much pain as she was. To be broken down to the bare essentials of who he was, just like Arya. He deserved all the pain that she dished out.

Instead, he got her apologising, wanting him back at the place where she lived, she wanted him around.

It wasn’t right, he felt like this was a punishment for her, not him. He was the one at fault for everything wrong in her life, and yet she wanted to keep him around. Watching as she left, much like her father the night before, instead she looked up to him, smiling before she got in the car and drove away. He wondered if watching him leave that day felt the same as watching her go. That there would always be a dull ache that remained as they parted from one another. If they both felt hollow without the other.

But it was wrong to think like that. To hope. To wish. To pray for it. That she would feel the need to want him in return. He wanted it, more than air, he wanted for her to love him again, to continue to love him in spite of everything he had done to her. All Gendry wanted was to love her, and be loved just as much in return.

Yet, he had to ask himself, how much did he love her in the first place? If he were so willing to desert her at the drop of a hat? Could she ever see that as anything other than a betrayal? How could she ever think he loved her to begin with? She made it clear the day he saw her that she thought he was just using her for sex. Which was the furthest thing from his mind when he started his relationship with her.

In the end, Gendry knew that he never meant to fall in love with Arya. It happened in the blink of an eye, without warning or even the slightest inkling that it could come about. Love, like most things, came to him in a crashing moment of realisation, one in which he had no chance in stopping. Either the universe was playing a cruel game on him, or it had all been fated to go this way. He hoped there was a brighter future for them both.

It took him a few more days at home, another check up with the doctor to see how he was doing, and he was cleared for work. Dressing in his suit, he went to the palace and walked through halls that were all too familiar, yet the stares were new. They were filled with judgment and scorn. He met with Brienne, who gave him the simplest orders: don’t interact with Arya for more than needed. One sentence was enough. That’s what he was told. But he knew them, he knew that, even though conversations somewhat became hard to maintain for both of them, it would flood into arguments and snide comments that would stew in their bellies for hours. They were lit fuses, ready to ignite whatever anger had been stored in them all this time.

Walking back out, heading towards the stairs, he saw Sansa descending with Sandor behind her. Sansa stopped in front of him, Sandor on the other hand, barged past him. “Prick.” His voice was rough and mean, and Gendry knew it was also a comment that Sansa enjoyed from her slight chuckle at it.

Gendry was left with the princess, and he gave her a bow, as he was meant to do when first greeting royalty. He was sure Sansa thought he was being an idiot, but it didn’t matter. He already won that prize a long time ago. “You’re going to have a shit night,” Sansa scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, and Sansa stepped in closer to him.

“Sorry. We can chat later, but we can’t tell Arya,” she said, and Gendry nodded back in response. “Also, just cause I haven’t said it yet,” Sansa said, her hands sliding onto his shoulders, then in an instant, his mind went blank with pain, as Sansa’s knee had collided with his groin, stunning him, knees hitting the floor. “Fuck you for hurting my sister,” she said, and he choked, nodding to her aggressive action.

“I deserved that,” he wheezed, trying to get his breath back, holding his crotch to ease the pain. Sansa moved down the stairs and went to Sandor’s side, walking to the kitchens with him.

“Great shot, little bird. Just like I taught ya,” Sandor praised and Sansa beamed a smile back at him. Gendry coughed, getting back his barrings and moving up the palace steps.

It took him a few breaths and the slowest walk up the palace steps to get himself to a presentable state before he walked into Arya’s room. He gave a knock, but Arya rarely replied, so he went inside.

Upon stepping foot inside, Gendry’s throat went dry. He’d seen Arya look elegant, he’d seen her look disheveled but still beautiful, he’d seen her naked and bare in front of him, but fuck, he’d never seen her look so sexy in his life. With a leather skirt that hugged at every curve of her hip, tracing lines that only his hands had touched in the past, accompanied by a black lace bralette, revealing just enough to remember where his teeth had pressed in. With thin stockings and a jacket to match her skirt, Gendry was rendered incompetant to do even the most basic of tasks to breathe.

“Where are we going?” he said, voice cracking like a teenage boy. He cleared his throat as he tried to remember what he was doing.

Arya bent, her ass on display like she were teasing at something. Well, she was teasing him. Look at what you can no longer have. It’s free and ready to use, and you lost your chance. “Out,” she said, getting her boots and sitting on the edge of her bed as she put them on, “can’t you tell?” she questioned playfully. It made his shoulders ache, the need to readjust himself in every way possible was becoming the most agonising task.

Sansa was right. He was going to have a shit night.

“I don’t think you going out will give off the best impression, princess.”

“You don’t get a say in that, do you?” she remarked, going into her bathroom. He could only assume she was fixing up the make up that looked way too out of character for her. But that was possibly the point of it.

“As your bodyguard, I do,” he reminded. Then, Arya poked her head out, puckering her lips as she reapplied the lipstick that stained her lips.

“As my boyfriend, you don’t.” She sarcastically smiled, and Gendry felt his chest tighten.

“Arya, I’m not trying to be difficult but -”

“Then don’t be difficult,” she gave a dry suggestion, then stopped in front of him, a scowl replacing her very smug grin, “and don’t call me my name,” she demanded. Gendry shut his mouth. The detail he had missed, one that he knowingly tried to remedy when he went in that day. It slipped. It shouldn’t have.

Arya moved out of the room quickly, skipping her way out of her room and cheerily behaving exactly as she had done when he first started.

“Your highness! Wait!” he shouted, following after her. It felt like the beginning, when he lost sight of her and panic set in, “shit, this is going to be a long night,” he swore, racing down the stairs and seeing her get into a car. He flagged it down before it was completely able to leave. Arya scowled at him in the rear view mirror. He now felt dread take him.

This would be his life, a job where he was condemned every day, sneered at for acting on an impulse he should have pushed aside. This was his ultimate punishment, welcomed back with open arms, and once in the hold, knives shoved in his back and he would never be able to complain - why should he? He was taken back after all the wrong he had caused.

When they arrived, Gendry felt his shoulders sink as he looked at the building. The fucking Forge. Of course it was The Forge. Gendry wanted to put his head through the windscreen, because from his past experience in that club, it meant a great deal of foreplay that would end up going further in a bathroom stall. Arya was bolting out of the car, stripping out of her jacket and tossing it back in the car. Beric moved to the door outside, keeping watch. Gendry moved to his side when he jabbed Gendry right in the stomach.

“What are you doing standing around out here? Gotta go in and protect the small pup,” he accosted, and Gendry groaned.

“I fucking hate this day,” he swore to himself. Moving inside, it was bodies pressing together, hands roaming to places they wouldn’t be in any normal situation - but it was hot, and people breathing down one’s neck was exactly what a person there wanted. Gendry waded through the swarms of people, being groped along the way, trying to find a wall where he could easily spy on Arya and keep her from harm. When he got there, he should have known the cruelty that he would be subjected to.

As hands roamed, Arya smiled eagerly, hands gracing over her form and her own slipping beneath shirt collars, touching at skin that tempted at the edge of clothes. All the while, Gendry had to watch her, watch as her hips swayed, finding friction amongst the crowd, smiling that grew when people ducked their heads to her neck, lingering their mouths on her where once he was the only one to touch.

One guy came up to her, hands on her bare skin, just above her skirt and beneath the bralette that she very well could have slipped out of with how tightly the room was packed. Gendry was on edge, hid fight response was fuelling him in that moment, because all he wanted to do was shoot out across the room and punch the guy in the face - his hands on the princess when they shouldn’t have been. He couldn’t exactly judge anyone, he reminded himself, he’d done the exact same.

Then, his hands went down, mouth directly next to her ear, whispering to her words that went deaf to the music around them. Whatever it was, it made Arya bite her lip, and the guy got eager, fingers inching down until they were trying to slip past the waistline of her skirt. Arya’s eyes sprung open, hands going to his to stop him.

Lucky for her, jealousy had overtaken Gendry and he was already through the crowd and pulling the man from her. Taking hold of Arya’s bicep, he tugged her along.

“Your Highness,” he said, dragging her out. Her hands tried to ungrip his hold on her, but he could do it - he had to get her out of there. He held her out the back door, pushing her out the back entrance and into the cold.

“Get off me, Gendry!” she snarled and he finally released her.

“You can’t do this out of spite,” he snapped back. Was he even really mad at her, or just the guy she was using? Either way, jealousy was moving its course, and he’d place blame wherever it laid.

“You’d be amazed at what I’d do out of spite,” she replied with a scoff. A wisp of cold Northern air came through and shook Gendry. He wasn’t used to it, even after the year or so of being there. He suspected that it would be the same for Arya, if she weren’t half dressed.

“This isn’t you, and you know it,” he replied, and Arya frowned at him.

“Wow, really? You’re observant,” she scowled, rolling her eyes as she clutched tighter to her biceps, holding herself for warmth that was lost in the Winterfell night. Why he felt sorry for her, he hated it, because at the end of the day - all he knew was what Arya made him feel. In the depths of the cold, she always would provide warmth. Shaking off his jacket, he pulled it around Arya’s shoulders and stood back in a huff. Arya clutched it to her, but provided no surprise in his action. She just took it, as she should have.

“Gods, you’re acting like a child, you know that?” he growled, hands going into his pockets.

“Says the man that ran away when he got scared,” she snapped.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed.

“Fuck you,” Arya snarled, turning from him, taking her place as a royal, her chin high and shoulders square. She wouldn’t stand for how she was being treated. Yet, there was a flicker in her eyes of pain - that she shouldn’t have said what she did, she shouldn’t be acting the way she had been.

“Do you love me?”

“Don’t ask me that,” she groaned.

“I still love you, and this is what you’re doing,” he replied, and Arya looked back at him, shocked that he would eve say it.

“I’m allowed to do what I like, regardless if I love you or not. You ended things too, remember? So why do you care?”

“Because I do! Because I love you!” he shouted, unleashing the pain in his chest. He just needed to say it. Needed her to know that his heart hasn’t changed. He needed to...he wanted to better for her, and wanted her to know she was still loved. “Don't you still love me? What more is there?”

“Of course I still love you, idiot! But you still broke my heart and my trust!” she snapped back, her cheeks going rosy because of the crisp night air.

“Then we can figure this out, we can work through this.”

“I don't want to figure this out. I want to know you’re in this. I need to know you’re gonna fight for me.” Arya looked hurt, that breathing was becoming painful, or maybe it was just the same air they shared.

“I am fighting for you!” Gendry roared.

“You’re begging for me, there’s a difference!” Arya yelled back, her eyes pleading for him to know the difference.

“I have always fought for us, you just don’t -”

“You ran! You ran when you told me you loved me, and you ran when things got hard. You want me back? You make damn well sure that I trust you enough not to leave again,” she said, shoving at his chest. “Prove me wrong!”

“I’ve literally bled for you!” he snarled back, stepping into her space. Arya’s next breath came out shaken, the wind catching it and whafting it away like smoke.

“I just want you to want me! Without fear, without concern or a care! I want you to fight to want me!”

“Arya, please, I'm trying,” he said, voice soft, and Arya whined, her hand going to her forehead. She seemed like she was ready to cry, and Gendry felt it too, the tension in his chest was becoming agonising. Arya seemed to be worse off in the situation.

“I know. I need to know you understand that for me and my position, I can’t just give trust back. You taught me that.” Her words stung, and he stepped back, watching as she clutched her arms tighter around herself. “I’m in the spotlight and at massive risk everyday. Trusting people, even someone who I don’t interact with regularly, is trusting that they won’t kill me or my family. It’s not that I could lose my title. It’s that I or my family could be killed and risk the lives and livelihoods of our people.” There were truths and lies in her words, but it wasn’t the time or place to argue with her - she was close to tears. “I trusted you, and even though I know you’d never physically hurt me or my family, I can’t just go back to normal. I have too much to lose.”

“So do I, that’s why I left,” he admitted. “I panicked. My mum has been through so much to get me here and because I followed my heart, her life was being affected. I have to protect her, she’s the only thing I have unconditionally.” Arya chewed on her lip as Gendry stepped back into her space. It was so familiar there, a perfect encasing for who she was in that space, warm even in the freezing night air. “I saw the statement. I know your family had to post it but I can’t help but think...was any of it true? Did you really...was it really all for nothing?”

“Don’t ask me that. You’re not going to like the answer,” she lied. He could tell by the tear that slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away, looking off from him.

A flash went off close by and they both shot their attention to the guy with the camera. “Princess! Is this a lovers spat!” he yelled, and Arya was ready to haul herself at him.

“Fuck you!”

“Your highness,” Gendry caught her quickly and she snapped her anger to him. He gave her a cautious raise of his brow, “allow me, please.” Gendry looked down at her, a warning look. Her stubbornness could have won out, and he very well could have pulled her away from the situation, dragging her away and causing even more of a scene than necessary. Instead, she huffed, giving him a nod of approval. She wasn’t happy about it, but she allowed it nevertheless.

“Hey, buddy, gimme the camera,” Gendry said, walking to the guy. He had been frozen solid by the realisation that a threat was coming, and it made Gendry confident with his coming actions. As he got there, the paparrazi gave over the camera, and Gendry looked it over before throwing it hard against the wall beside him. The paparrazi went to his destroyed camera, looking up at Gendry.

For a moment, Gendry felt sorry, but knowing what guys like him usually did for money, his pity went away. Kneeling beside him, Gendry gave a sarcastic smile. “Go fuck yourself. The princess has been through enough. She gets to speak to me or you however she likes. So on her behalf, you can cordially, go fuck yourself right up the ass, and please, for everyone’s sake, shut the fuck up, would ya?” he said, and the guy simply nodded, leaving his broken camera on the ground, staggering to his feet, ready to race off. “Send a bill to the palace and we’ll replace it for you,” he said, and Arya came to his side.

“You’re too nice,” she whispered, “I would have broken his arm.” Gendry believed that.

“Which is why I had to handle it. You know you would have broken more than just an arm, princess,” he said, looking down at her, and she scoffed out a laugh, something she probably didn’t want to do, but did so against her will.

“We need to get back to the palace before you freeze,” Gendry cleared his throat, gesturing out to the main street. Arya furrowed her brow, going to head back to the club, only for his arm to shoot out and stop her. Arya folded her arms over her chest, snarling back at him.

“I’m a Northern Princess, Gendry, I don’t freeze.”

“Normally, I’m sure. But you’re currently in the worst outfit imaginable. Let’s go,” he demanded, and Arya rolled her eyes.

“You ruin all the fun,” she said, moving around the corner.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, voice far quieter than it had been before. They were back on the street and heading to the car. As they got there, Beric moved from the door, scoffing at Gendry as they moved to the car doors.

“Have fun back there?” Beric chuckled. Gendry sucked in a breath, lunging to him and binding his fists in tight to Beric’s jacket.

“Shut the fuck up, Beric. Nothing happened,” Gendry barked, holding on tight to Beric.

“Sure,” he rolled his eyes. Gendry slammed Beric’s back to the door of the car, making Arya jump out and look over the top of the car.

“That’s the fucking princess, you’re talking about. She isn’t just any woman. I lost sight of that, but I haven’t anymore. Treat her with more respect,” he said, throwing Beric against the car again and nodding up to Arya.

“Sorry, your highness,” Beric apologised with a grumble in his voice.

“It’s okay, Beric. I didn’t take anything by it.” Arya moved back into the car, and they were off, no other word or arguments as they got to the palace.

Gendry walked up the palace stairs and to Arya’s room. Arya walked in, exchanging Gendry’s jacket for a throw blanket on the top of her bed. Gendry looked around her room, noticing that her furniture that changed its position, something he hadn’t picked up on the first time he was in there that day - that most of her room felt different then what it once was. That it was no longer one he knew to be...theirs.

With his jacket over his shoulders again, Gendry gave to nod to Arya as goodbye. “Goodnight, your Highness.”

“Gendry,” Arya said, her voice weak but urging him to stay. He stood still, waiting for Arya to speak. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. When you fell, I was hurting and angry and I just -”

“Acted. I know how you felt. When I broke up with you that night,” he stopped himself, unsure if he should say it. In the end, he looked at Arya’s face and knew he could never lie to her again. “I got home and trashed my apartment. I broke a bunch of windows and the frame of my bed is kind of resting on three legs currently.”

“Why would you do that?”

He shrugged. Truth was all he had to gain back trust. “Cause I was an idiot. I broke up with the only woman I’d ever love.”

“But being with me, meant hurting the only person that had ever been there for you before me,” Arya reiterated what he had told her.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back at his feet.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he said, raising his chin before giving a soft bow. “Your Highness,” he cleared his throat, wondering if the words would come out. “I’m sorry for how I acted tonight. It isn’t my place anymore to get in your way. I wish you all the happiness. I promise I won’t get in the way of that anymore,” he said, needing to clear his throat once more. It would be torture to do it, but he truly just wanted her to be happy again. He turned on his heels, getting ready to leave her room.

“You were my happiness,” she whispered, but he heard it, and it felt like her full fist reached into his chest and squeezed. Were. It was clear, even if he had the chance to win her back, to get back into her good books and mend the wounds he had formed, she’d never give it back. The trust he had built from the very start was shattered beyond repair - a piece always missing from the heart they once shared.

Gendry kept walking and hoped to god that when he got back to his apartment, he still had alcohol hidden away somewhere, because he was sure he needed to end this day drunk.

*~*~*

“You were my happiness,” she whispered, and for a moment he stopped before he left the room. Arya choked on her small sob, chewing on her lip before she said something he’d never hear. “You still are.”

#gendrya #got fic #gendrya fic #gendry x arya #arya x gendry #my fics #cfois #chivalry fell on its sword

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