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concussed-to-pieces · 3 years

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The Mettle Of A Man; Part Seventeen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Tagging @anonymouscosmos, @culturalrebel, @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto and @nelba! Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains intense recounts of previous abuse, intense depictions of self-loathing, self-deprecation and brief mentions of depression. Stay safe!]

Cade caught Danse before he could depart after the rest of their unofficial 'war council' had been dismissed, the medical officer inquiring, "How are you coping, Paladin? I hope that your adjustment to your newfound knowledge is going well." The arch of his eyebrow indicated plainly that Cade was looking for a clear answer, possibly to dissuade his own concerns.

"I am still uncertain, Knight-Captain Cade." Danse stated bluntly. "I know that Quinlan's reports are accurate. I know that I must be a synth. But it is...it's difficult to wrap my head around it."

"My door is always open, Danse. As it's been since the day you were assigned to the Prydwen." Cade reminded him. "I can't say I've ever had the pleasure of doing a mental evaluation on a synth, but…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "Hmm, that's not quite right. You and I have had sessions before. Maybe synths aren't so different in their cognition. Perhaps this is a nature versus nurture scenario."

"Perhaps." Danse allowed, but he knew that he sounded less than optimistic.

"Maybe in a day or two, once everything has calmed down and you've had time to think?" Cade suggested. "Collect your thoughts, then come see me and we can discuss your current state and the repercussions of Maxson's treatment."

The paladin nodded, relieved that Cade didn't wish to immediately evaluate him. It had been an incredibly stressful and arduous several weeks. More than anything, the paladin was longing to finally get some sleep.

After he spoke to Haylen and Rhys, of course. They deserved his gratitude, if only for their combined efforts in delivering the tip-off that had literally saved his life. To say nothing of their care for Elizabeth in his absence, even though they were unable to free her. They had kept her alive, and that was more than the paladin had dared to hope for.

Danse watched Cade depart, his mind miles away now. Backhand would be incredibly busy in the lead up to the assault. He felt almost irritated by that; it was unfair to ask so much of her so soon after what had transpired. But the luxury of time was no longer on their side. Danse understood, in a practical sense, that they needed to strike as fast as possible. It was entirely within reason that the Institute already knew of their plans and were preparing their own countermeasures.

It still didn't erase the hollow sensation in his gut, the fear that Backhand was all too willing to stretch herself paper-thin for her various factions. He promised himself then and there that he would do his best to absorb some of the burden.

As much as she would allow.

The memory of her ripping her knuckles apart on the manual release of his armor, talking to Matthew's parents, taking her helmet off and smiling at him. Thank you, Danse or I thought you were dead or please don't do that to me again --

Danse chewed anxiously on his lower lip. As much as she would allow. As much as he could feasibly handle. It should have felt odd that he was trading one leader for another, but Danse could only rationalize that it must be another portion of his programming.

"Paladin Danse, sir?"

Rhys . Danse started, turning around. He hadn't even heard the knight approach down the catwalk. Hell, he hadn't even realized he was spacing out in the hallway. "Yes, Knight?" He replied, nodding out of habit to acknowledge Haylen beside Rhys.

"Elder Brandis said you wanted to see us, sir." The knight stated, sounding a bit hesitant. "He said we needed to discuss...certain things."

Of course he did . Danse sighed heavily, bracing himself for some level of a disappointment-fueled tirade.

"Danse, I'm so sorry." Haylen blurted out, her voice shaking. Danse was startled, tilting his head while she carried on, "I wish there had been some other way for me to tell you. You must have been terrified ."

"I was certainly confused, if nothing else." The paladin admitted with a wry smile. "I am immensely grateful to both of you, regardless of my own trials. You followed your training and stuck to your guns, and I couldn't be more proud." He deflated slightly. "Even if the pride of a synth means precious little."

"The synth shit doesn't matter to either of us, sir." Rhys muttered. "We don't care. We're just glad you're back and that Maxson didn't manage to kill you. That's the important part, right?"

"In a way." Danse agreed, grimacing. "Our battle is far from over, however."

"Hey, we're doing something. That's more than a lot of people can say." Haylen reasoned, ever the optimist. "I've got faith in whatever plan you guys come up with."

"Thank you for believing in me." The paladin murmured, giving the only surviving members of Squad Gladius a stiff salute.

"We know you, sir. You protected us, trained us. Built us up from basically nothing." Rhys sounded angry, his typically-sullen expression gone even more sour. "You think we could ever turn our backs on you? You're not that stupid."

Haylen began to protest, "Rhys-"

"Haylen, you and I both know he'll just self-deprecate until he dissolves. I'm not letting that happen." Rhys grumbled at the scribe, who fell silent at his reasoning. Her eyes were narrowed to slits and the sight was immensely entertaining to Danse, who couldn't keep a nervous chuckle from bubbling up in his throat.

"I'm certain the two of you are aware of the devastating depression you dragged me out of all those years ago in the Capital Wasteland." Danse clapped Rhys on the shoulder and caught Haylen up in a rare one-armed hug. "How many times will you two save me? Should I start taking you for granted?"

"Paladin Danse, sir, w-we…" Haylen trailed off, her lower lip quivering. She buried her face in Danse's ribs and Rhys grunted.

"Haylen, c'mon . Pull it together." He huffed, his own eyes looking suspiciously wet. "Listen, sir, I think I've made our position pretty clear. We follow your orders. Learning about that shit with Maxson-"

"I'm so angry! " Haylen interrupted him, glaring upwards. "God Danse, I'm furious . What he did to you is unforgivable, inexcusable." She announced hotly. "Everyone assumed something was going on, but we also assumed it was consensual ."

" 'Everyone' ?" Danse echoed, a weird surge of retroactive embarrassment seizing his body. "I suppose I should be thankful you all were so willing to offer me the illusion of privacy." He mumbled.

"He's never coming anywhere near you again, sir." Rhys stated, his jaw set in an angry scowl. "I don't care if he's the last of the Maxson line. I'll break his fucking skull."

His words stirred Danse's guilt to life, the ugly feeling rearing its head once more. "It is a difficult situation to be in. I do not envy our elders, past or present." Danse tried to pose the sentence with a modicum of compassion, though he was unsure of the attempt's success. The paladin knew that despite Maxson's position of power, Danse bore a majority of the blame for not standing up to the elder until it was too late to prevent his spiral.

"Difficult, my ass ." Rhys growled under his breath.

…

"So we've got Preston, someone by the name of John D., the…" Ingram narrowed her eyes at the readout. " Atom Cats ?"

"Yep. Real into their power armor. And Zeke owes me a favor." Backhand explained, continuing to scroll through her Pip Boy notes. "If I can get them to walk across the pond and cover the Castle, that will free up more Minutemen to join us."

"Should I ask how you managed to ingratiate yourself with so many of these people?"

"I'm a sucker for a lost cause." Vega answered, her tone dry.

Ingram snorted, shaking her head. "Lucky for us, I imagine. Also lucky for us that you're the forgiving sort."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Proctor." Backhand retorted. "I'm just not yet in a position to combat your aerial superiority."

"Whew, gonna' file that one away for later consideration."

A soft knock on the comm doorway interrupted the two women, and Vega turned to see Danse peering cautiously into the room. "Paladin! You're just in time, we were about to start rallying the troops. Want to lend a hand?"

"What needs to be done, General Vega?" The paladin asked, his posture gone stiff and proper.

Backhand could feel her smile dim slightly, but she reined herself in. They had all been through so much, she reasoned, and old habits were usually a comfort. "Well, I've got a few calls to make on my own, but if you can get in touch with Lieutenant Garvey that would be a huge help."

"Understood."

Proctor Ingram (who had been watching their exchange with poorly-veiled interest) stepped out of the way so that Danse could settle down at the desk alongside one of their many radio switchboards. "Vega, I think the two of you can handle this." The older woman remarked, giving Elizabeth a sly wink behind Danse's back. "I'll start whipping the base camp into shape. Make myself useful, y'know. Ad Victoriam."

Vega went bright red as Ingram saluted, the proctor sporting an absolutely infuriating smirk. "B-But Proctor--"

"No buts! You guys handle the easy stuff. I'll manage the elbow grease." Ingram then mouthed talk to him! , before strolling out of the comm area. Backhand swore under her breath, thumping her fist into the desk in mute frustration.

"I can leave, General Vega." Danse offered, making her start and whirl to face him.

"No no! No, uh, you're fine. You're not the problem here." Vega assured him, waving her hands nervously. "I'm just...I'm a little uptight, that's all."

"Will your forces refuse to join us?" The paladin asked, his rigid posture easing slightly as he tipped his head back to look up at her. He continued in an undertone, "Would it be simpler to do it with your troops alone? Do you truly need the Brotherhood?"

"We do need the Brotherhood, yes. But I don't think we'll need them for the fighting. We'll need them for the mass casualty options and the refugee care after the fact." Backhand began to pace, mostly so she didn't have to maintain eye contact. The paladin looked fatigued yet determined, and it pained her to know that rest was still so far away for them. Rest and the possibility of actually speaking with him about the thing that had been on her mind in one form or another since…

Well, it had been a long time.

"We'll need help rebuilding more than anything. Not a lot of settlements will be keen to take on synths, so I'll need to figure out some kind of alternative. I really need to talk with Nick and Dea--er, John D ., and get their input on this whole engagement." Backhand rubbed her temples. "And here I thought getting in would be the hard part!" She tried to joke.

After a moment of silence, Vega heard Danse clear his throat. "General... Elizabeth , I know you already have many responsibilities, all of them miles more important than my own struggles."

Backhand looked over at him expectantly, a little confused.

"I have to give Cade a full report." The tall man said abruptly. "I...he wants to know everything that's transpired." He stared down at the floor, the heel of his boot scuffing the grating beneath them as he rushed to add, "I know it's selfish of me to ask you to--I mean, you've been through so much, b-but I was...rather, I am uncertain of this endeavor, and my ability to maintain my composure during it. You tend to have a mollifying effect on me for some reason."

"You want me to be present when you give your medical officer the full rundown?" Vega raised an eyebrow, further confused. Danse was a soldier , surely he had endured a full physical before?

"I am overly anxious. It means reliving some portions of my past that I find...traumatic."

"Oh." Oh . Backhand felt stupid as the truth dawned on her. Everything that's transpired . Of course Danse would want someone he trusted with him, this wasn't a physical exam at all. "What about Haylen or Rhys? Are they more appraised of the situation?"

Danse was shaking his head before she had even finished. "I did my best to keep everything that happened quiet, though it appears that I was unsuccessful. I was told that was my only option, and I did not wish to disobey Maxson's orders."

"That fuckin' asshole." Vega growled. "Alright, if you're sure it's me you want with you, I'm here."

"You don't have t--er, that is, I regret taking up more of your valuable time, General Vega. I promise after this meeting with Cade, I will be fully at your disposal." He assured her, seemingly pained by his current state.

"Danse, I don't care about that. I don't want you better just so you can get used up again, I want you better for you . I'm sorry that all of this robs you of the proper time to regroup, y'know?" Backhand apologized, her words deliberately quiet as she boldly laced her fingers through his own. "Once we're done here, though, you need to take some time off. General's orders."

"I would have to speak with Elder Brandis on the matter. As his most senior paladin, I am unsure if he would be able to permit me that luxury." Danse replied unhappily, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before he released it. "' A run ashore ', always just out of reach."

"I'm getting you time off, even if I have to kidnap you myself."

The paladin's chuckle in reply to her threat was subdued, but it still sent a frisson of happiness through her body. Backhand choked down the guilt of having those feelings in the first place for just a second, choosing to bask in the warm sensation.

"When you're ready, General, I'll need the proper frequencies to speak with the Castle." Danse's request brought her crashing back down to earth, and Vega rushed to oblige him.

There's always something else to do .

…

Two days later, on the cusp of their attack on the Institute, the both of them were seated in Knight-Captain Cade's main office aboard the Prydwen. The older officer sat across from them in the cramped space, a clipboard propped up on his knee.

"The only questions I'll ask will be strictly for clarity's sake." The knight-captain informed Danse quietly. "If you don't want to answer, that is entirely acceptable and within your right, but the more information we have, the better."

Danse nodded, the motion stilted. "I understand, Knight-Captain. I'll do my best to cooperate."

Vega squeezed his hand. God knew she didn't like this one damn bit, but she was going to stick it out for him. After all, he had gone to bat for her against the elder . Loyalty like that was in short supply. "I'm right here with you, Danse." She said softly. He had gone pasty white beneath his usual windblown complexion, and he gripped her hand wordlessly.

"If you could start at the beginning, Paladin. Or as close to it as possible." Cade prompted him.

"Yes, I...of course." Danse rasped. "The first time we engaged was shortly before the Brotherhood lost Knight Cutler."

Cade looked at him over his half-moon glasses, seeming perturbed. "That was...so this was a prolonged assault."

"Not an assault. I did as I was ordered." The dull tone of Danse's voice, the way his eyes had gone almost grey ...Vega wanted to know how the hell Maxson had ever justified this. "I could not bring myself to question Arthur. He came to me, at first simply asking for help even though it was an order. He said he couldn't sleep. I...I never told Cutler. I didn't think it was relevant. I thought I was helping the new elder." Danse looked up at Cade. "I know what it's like to not be able to sleep for all the thoughts in your head."

"Was there a specific point in time where his behavior shifted? Perhaps when it became more clear to you that there was something wrong?" Backhand was grateful for the delicate way Cade phrased the question.

"I…" Danse's brow furrowed. "...had just come back with...after what transpired with Cutler. Four days on base. I was furious with Maxson for stationing Cutler out there, furious with myself for not saving Cutler. I was grieving and hurt both physically and emotionally, as you recall." Cade inclined his head. "I assume you also recall the bite on my arm that appeared shortly thereafter. That was a...result of my inability to perform."

"Ah." Cade murmured, jotting something down.

Bite? Vega could feel Danse trembling. "I-I was...unable to function or perform for him in a satisfactory manner and that was his method of voicing his frustration with me." Danse swallowed hard. "I was mourning , Cade." He sounded like he was begging the other man to understand, begging him not to judge.

Perform for him. Backhand sucked in a deep breath through her nose, willing herself to stay silent.

"After that, I would just comply. It was never as bad as that time. I would perform for him to the best of my abilities." Danse paused, "but I never sought him out, and nothing occurred without me being ordered to do so." He then proceeded to rattle off a distressingly-long list of dates, every time that Maxson had coerced him. "I was not interested in...well, anyone , after Cutler." He muttered after a brief pause, "the term broken seems fitting."

"You weren't allowed proper space to heal yourself after what happened with Cutler. You were injured and then forced to deal with someone who kept prying open your wounds because they enjoyed lording their power over you." Cade theorized, his voice a little sharper. " Broken is not fitting in the slightest, Danse."

The paladin shrugged. "Whatever the terminology might be, then."

" Traumatized , Danse. Emotional wounds take time to heal, just like physical ones. Losing Cutler in the way that we did-"

"I deserved it!" Danse cut off the medical officer, leaning forward and clenching his free hand on his knee. "I failed Cutler, Cade! I should have gone after him sooner! The treatment from Maxson is what I deserved ." His eyes were wild, frantic. "He's an abuser, but I am a man deserving of every last instance of that abuse for my inaction when it came to Cutler!" The paladin reasoned intensely.

Cade sighed, rifling through his clipboard. "Danse, you did not deserve or garner punishment for the consequences of Maxson's orders." He informed the other man quietly. "You were simply a man who lost someone that he cared deeply about."

"And to find out that I'm not even that much!" Danse spat. "I'm still trying to cope with the reality that I am a living lie . My identity as Paladin Danse is nothing but a memory now. Everything I held dear, everything I ever believed in is completely gone. Can you imagine how that feels?" Danse was nearly shouting at this point, moving to stand. "I started out as nothing , and I've ended up as nothing . And I don't know what the hell to do about it!"

Backhand brought her hand up over his elbow, hauling him back down into his seat. " Listen to Cade, Danse." She growled. The paladin fought her grip briefly, but ultimately slumped in the chair. Good thing too, Vega wasn't exactly up to full strength just yet. The large man was shaking again, his breathing coming in harsh bursts. "It's okay, it's okay." Vega found herself repeating the phrase, rubbing circles on his back between his shoulder blades. Many members of military factions found repetition comforting and Danse appeared to be no exception, the large man heaving a massive sigh under the weight of her hand.

"Danse, I'll fully admit to being out of my element here. I never expected to have to treat a synth." Knight-Captain Cade said plainly. "However, I've known you for many years. We have an established rapport. Your body is indistinguishable from an ordinary human body, as proved by my records. Your mental processes and pain responses are normal for a human. I suppose what I'm trying to say is learning that you are a synth may not change all that much, despite what you may be feeling."

Danse choked out a forlorn noise that might have been a sob, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so confused." He confessed plaintively. "You're saying I did not deserve punishment for my failings, but...how else am I supposed to atone for Cutler?" He looked up, tears welling up in his eyes. "How am I supposed to reconcile with these human emotions, Cade? I barely kept myself under control when I believed I was human!"

"Your feelings have always run deep, Danse. Your empathy for your fellow man has landed you in hot water more than once." Cade gestured at Vega. "According to our infiltrator, even the most brutal of synths feel regret and remorse just like we do, though they have not been taught how to cope with it."

"I still feel like a human. Nothing feels different, yet now I constantly second-guess everything I do. I've had a plan from the beginning to shape my future, but I have to wonder about whether that's a lie as well." Danse remarked bitterly. "I had...I had hoped…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter."

Backhand could feel her heart breaking the longer he spoke. His true identity was an immense blow to him, and on top of it he was still struggling under the burden of the guilt he carried due to Cutler's demise. He blamed himself for Arthur's demands.

"Listen to Cade, Danse." She urged. Her hand was essentially on autopilot as she traced small patterns on the center of his back, moving up and down his spine without rhyme or reason. "You're not to blame for what Maxson did. It's not yours to bear. Trust me, coming from someone who's more than willing to take on other folk's problems, that weight is not yours."

"But-"

"You trust me, right?" Vega interrupted him softly, cupping his face so that he had to look at her.

"With my life, General Vega."

The rapid sincerity of his reply startled her and Backhand needed to take a moment, steeling herself yet again. "I know you trust Cade too, and I know this won't be a quick or easy process. But you accepting that whatever happened was not your fault would be a huge first step."

"I...If I do…" Danse paused, hesitating. "Vega, if I forget about him..."

"Hey, nobody said anything about forgetting. You told me about Cutler, about how important he was to you. There's no way someone like you could forget about him. But you need to forgive yourself, you have to understand that losing him was not your fault." Once more she found herself in over her head, but she did her best to tell him all the things she wished someone had told her when Sergeant Cathan had died.

"He was...he was everything to me." Danse's voice cracked. "And I had to--I had to, he was...I had to."

"What happened to Cutler and his team was an immense tragedy, and a needless one at that." Cade spoke up from his seat, his brow furrowed. "Maxson outed himself quite thoroughly during the trial, I would say. It will be difficult for him to explain his actions away when so many witnesses heard exactly what he said."

Elizabeth felt Danse go still, the paladin hanging on to Cade's every word. "Am I even permitted to be happy that he may face consequences?" He asked uncertainly, wringing his hands. "Is that a breach of protocol, Knight-Captain?"

The medical officer shifted his weight, leaning forward to prop himself up with his elbows on his knees. "I can't promise you swift justice, you know how the Brotherhood operates. But Arthur invoked the right of a litany trial, then proceeded to break his own terms. To say nothing of the fact that he nearly killed someone uninvolved in the trial." Cade shook his head. "His abuse flourished in secrecy. Now that everything is out in the open, I do not believe even his status as the last Maxson will sway the other elders when they pass judgement."

"Thank you, Knight-Captain." Danse closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "I...thank you, Vega." He continued, a little quieter. He caught her hand in his own, giving it a cautious squeeze. Almost as if he was imitating her gesture from earlier in the week. "I have so much to think about."

"Agreed. Shall I put in a request to Brandis for a leave of absence?"

Danse visibly recoiled at Cade's suggestion, his eyes going wide in dismay. "No! No, I am needed, Knight-Captain. After our assault has been carried out, and the Institute has been wiped from the map, I…" he hesitated, like the words were caught in his throat. "I will gladly take a leave. Until then, however, there is still work to do."

"There is always work to do, Paladin." Cade chided. "Remember what I told you? You will burn yourself out and the Brotherhood can ill afford to lose you."

"I'll see to it that he takes time off after our successful operation." Backhand stated firmly. Cade raised an eyebrow at that and Danse flushed across the bridge of his nose, stuttering a little. "Your health is important to me, Danse. You can be as stubborn as you want, but I'm not letting you weasel out of this."

"I suppose that will have to do." Cade sighed. "Do you have any questions for me, Paladin?"

Danse shot a sidelong glance at Vega that she was relatively certain she wasn't supposed to see, the large man worrying his lower lip. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part, though, as Danse shook his head after a moment. "No, I...I just have some reflection to do." He got to his feet abruptly, saluting both Cade and Elizabeth. "Ad Victoriam, Knight-Captain. Ad Victoriam, General Vega."

Cade returned the salute absently, already absorbed in writing something else down. Vega was a little slower, her query of, "do you need me, Danse?" coming out softer than she had intended.

She wanted to believe that the paladin hesitated before he replied, "No, General Vega. I can manage."

Part Eighteen

33 notes · View notes

bitchin-beskar · 4 years

Note

Hey! Can you write numbers 6 & 45 from the prompt list with Pedro Pascal? Totally fine if you can’t do both. Thanks so much and have a good day. 🤍

Hi! So this turned a little more angsty than I was anticipating, buuuuut here we are!! I hope you like it!!! ❤️❤️❤️

No Man is Worth Your Tears

Rating: T (nothing smutty, but there’s a lil bit of spiciness)

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This is my first Pedro Pascal x Reader, and the first Reader fic I’ve written in close to five years so, I hope it’s not too bad! As of right now this is a one-shot, but I am open to writing more if enough people want that!

Requested: #6: “Please, don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry.” and #45: “I don’t like it when he touches you.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d shown up at his doorstep in tears.

He’d been in his apartment, lounging on his worn leather couch as he looked over a new script when there’d been a knock at his door. Glancing at the clock, he frowned. It was late, way too late for anyone to be coming over for a visit. Hell, he shouldn’t even be awake right now, and he probably wouldn’t have been if it weren’t for the fact that he had a table read in two days and he’d only gotten the script today.

Pedro stood up, groaning as his joints protested his movements. He was getting too old to be laying on his couch for hours at a time. He dropped the script on his coffee table and shuffled over to the door. Fighting back a yawn, he opened the door, only for his jaw to drop in shock.

You stood before him, dressed to the nines, looking as though you’d stepped off a movie screen. Your hair was perfectly done up, and your dress was gorgeous. But he didn’t notice any of that. You’d been crying. Mascara ran down your cheeks along with your tears, and your eyes were red and puffy.

Pedro didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He just opened his arms, and you fell into them with a sob. Clutching the back of his wrinkled button up, you buried your face in his chest, shoulders shaking as you cried. His arm came up to wrap around your waist, holding your shaking form to his chest. He shuffled backwards, shutting his door and wrapping his other arm around you, his fingers tangling in your elaborate hair-do.

Swaying slowly back and forth, it was a dance he’d done too many times. Too often had you come to his doorstep, tears in your eyes as you cursed your boyfriend’s name. Too often you found that asshole, in various compromising positions, with too many different women to name, and you always came running to his apartment, to escape. But you always went back, every time.

But this time was different. He could tell.

Pedro waited for your shaking to slow before he ushered you further into his apartment, sitting once more on his couch, pulling you gently into his lap. You curled in on yourself, hands clinging tight to his shirt, as if afraid he’d disappear out from underneath you.

Finally, your sobs turned to sniffles as you slowly grew silent against his chest, yet you refused to raise your head. Pedro kept one arm around your waist while the other busied itself with undoing your hair, taking all the little bobby pins out, one by one, allowing your hair to fall gently against your shoulders.

You tilted your head up to look at him, sure that you looked a right horrid sight, but all you could see was sorrow swimming in his dark eyes. “Please, don’t cry.” He whispered, brushing his fingers across your cheek. “I can’t stand to see you cry.”

Your eyes shine with yet more unshed tears, and you valiantly try to keep them contained. But an ocean cannot be contained for long, and salty tears once more begin to run down your cheeks. Pedro’s hand on your cheek guides your face towards his, and he gently brings his lips to rest against your forehead.

Taking one shaky breath after another, you close your eyes and sink into his embrace, allowing his calm affection to wash over you. His lips leave your forehead, only for his own forehead to rest gently against yours. You release his shirt with one of your hands, to bring it up to rest against the side of his neck, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. Your long sleeved dress is surely scratching his skin, but he says nothing. You sit in silence, for how long you have no idea, until your heart finally calms from a rapid flutter of a hummingbird’s wings to the gentle beat that matches his own.

“What happened, mi corazón?”

His words are whispered, his breath brushing softly against your cheeks, cooling the tear tracks that run against your flushed skin. Your brow furrows as you clench your eyes shut against yet another onslaught of tears. “You were right, Pedro.”

Your voice is just as soft and quiet as his, and his heart breaks as he hears the pain in the breaths between your words. He listens as you laugh in such a self-deprecating manner that it burns him. “You were right all along.”

His fingers stroke small circles against your jaw. “I don’t want to be right if it brings you this much pain, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and a lone tear trickles out from underneath your closed eyelids, but his thumb is quick to brush it away. “Please, what happened?”

You rest your thumb gently against his pulse point, biting your lip as you feel his heart jump at your touch. His hand continues to stroke soothingly, and when he begs once more for you to tell him what’s wrong, you finally break.

“He proposed, tonight.”

Pedro felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room, out of his lungs, leaving him in a vacuum. He could deal with the asshole–as he refused to acknowledge him as anything else in his head–as your boyfriend, but a fiancé? A husband? He wasn’t sure he could stand that.

But surely you wouldn’t be here, tears in your eyes, curled in his lap if you’d said yes? He waited with baited breath for you to continue speaking.

“God, I’m so stupid, Pedro,” you moan quietly, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “Every time, he swears he won’t cheat again, and I believe him, every time.” His hand, the one not cradling your face, rubs soothingly against your back, but he stops suddenly when you wince. No, surely not–

He pulls back slightly, and you can feel his eyes boring holes in you, waiting for an explanation. A small frown crosses your lips as you open your eyes, and see his own staring straight at you, the sorrow from before now mixed with anger.

“Did he touch you?”

You go to automatically shake your head, but his hand quickly grips your chin, stilling your movements. “Do not lie to me, mi corazón.” You can’t look him in the eyes any longer, and when your gaze drops to your lap, he curses softly. “I don’t like it when he touches you,” he admits softly. “Your attempts at hiding your bruises are not as subtle as you might think, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flash up to his, shock filling them as you look at the man in front of you. “Why did you never say anything, Pedro?” Your voice is so quiet, had you been any further from him, he wouldn’t have heard you.

“Would you have listened to me?”

You wince, looking away in shame. You want to say that you would, that you would have listened to his concerns, but that isn’t the truth. No, no, you wouldn’t have listened. Your boyfriend had been so smooth with his words, convincing you that Pedro’s concerns only came from jealousy, and considering it was Pedro you ran to each time you found out about a new lover, a new tryst, you hadn’t had a hard time believing him.

Each time you’d run to Pedro, he never asked you to leave your boyfriend. He’d simply hold you, let you cry your eyes out on his shoulder, and then watch as you went crawling back the next morning. Looking back on your actions, you are disgusted. How could you have allowed yourself to become so blind?

Pedro tilts your chin back towards him, forcing you to once more meet his gaze. “It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart.” He watches as you shake your head at his words, and his heart breaks all over again at the pain on your face. “It wasn’t. His infidelity was never your fault.”

“But it was,” you insist, and Pedro’s eyes darken at the desperate tone filling your voice. “At dinner, tonight, he told me why,” you explain, words spilling over themselves as you force them out of your mouth. “I’m too fat, I don’t wear my clothes properly, I’m not confident enough, I have to wear too much makeup to look half as good as the girls he hooks up with.” Pedro’s grip tightens as he listens to the nonsense falling from your lips. “He gave me a list of things I’d have to get done before we could be married,” you whisper, eyes glimmering. “I stood up and left, I wasn’t going to give in to his demands there in public, but he’s right.”

Pedro’s jaw dropped in shock at your words. He couldn’t believe that you believed the little shit’s deluded ramblings. Before he could begin to try and undo the damage to your heart caused by the vilest man to walk this Earth, you continued your tirade.

“No, I know that he’s right Pedro, I know he is!” Your panting now, chest heaving as you force the poisonous words out, the words that have been simmering at the forefront of your mind for so long. “He’s the only one whose ever shown an interest in me, you know that.” Pedro’s not sure his heart can continue to beat with the pain he feels from listening to you. “There has to be something wrong with me if the only one who ever loved me thinks those things about me.”

Pedro’s whole body is tense, and as you finally slump against him, tirade done–thank god the asshole’s poisonous words are no longer pouring from your sweet lips–he feels as though he could cry. Oh, how he’s failed you if you can so readily believe that your scum of a boyfriend is the only one who's ever loved you.

He stands abruptly, pulling you to your feet as you squeak in surprise, hands tugging you down the hall towards his office. Your protests fall on deaf ears as he gently pulls you into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Looking around, you relax somewhat in the familiar atmosphere. Originally intended to be a guest room, Pedro had converted the small space into an office, where he would often read scripts or work on emails. He had a tendency to read on his couch as well, but there was one advantage in his office.

Whenever he needed to practice a voice or specific expression for a scene, he’d stand in front of the full length mirror he’d installed, able to see his face, and work on perfecting whatever accent or pose he was required. You’d spent many an evening in here, laughing as he made silly faces in the mirror, trying on different characters for various roles.

Pedro tugged you over to the mirror, but as you turned to ask him what was going on, his hands gripped your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, forcing you to stare at yourself in the mirror, his grip too tight to wiggle out off, but not to tight to bruise. His grip was never tight enough to bruise.

You looked away from your reflection, turning your head, but Pedro’s fingers lightly gripped your chin, forcing your head back up. He bent his head slightly, allowing his lips to brush against your ear, watching as you shivered at his touch. “Mi corazón, do you know what I see, when I look at you?”

You shake your head as best you can in his grip, unsure of where he’s going with this. The hand holding your chin releases, only for his fingers to drag down your throat, so softly you barely feel them, his wam palm coming to rest just below your collarbone, pressing just over your heart. His other hand trailed across your stomach, and you let out a soft gasp, wanting to squirm as he touched the part of you that you were most insecure about, but his hand didn’t linger, instead resting on your opposite hip, his arm caging you against his body.

“I see a goddess, beautiful in every way,” he whispered, and even as you shook your head, he continued. “Your heart is so pure, so open to everyone, even those undeserving of your love.” His fingers burned against your skin, pressing down gently against your flesh. “Your mind is brilliant, sweetheart. Your cleverness and intelligence are clear in every word you speak.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “Your soul is pure light, and the rest of humanity is but moths to your flame.”

Your cheeks are a brilliant red at his words, and you cannot meet his eyes in the mirror. “Heart, mind, soul, all are well and good Pedro, and I love how you flatter me,” You rest your own hands over his, unconsciously helping him to hold your broken pieces in place. “But most do not look for heart, mind and soul when looking for another to share their life with. What good is being beautiful on the inside when the outside turns people away before they can even look?”

You are so distracted with your thoughts, you almost miss the huff of breath Pedro blows across your shoulder. You are not so distracted, however, when his lips press insistently against the sensitive skin of your neck. You stiffen, and would have pulled away if not for his hands still wrapped around your body.

His murmurs are soft against your skin, lips brushing you with every word. “Mi amor, how can you not know, after all this time?” His hands still rest against your waist and chest, and there’s no way he can miss the way your breathing picks up at his words.

“K–Know what, Pedro?”

You feel his lips curl into a small smile against your skin as your voice breaks. “How can you not know what you do to me?” It is at this point you realize exactly what the pressure against the small of your back must be. “How can you not know that you drive me crazy, my heart?”

Looking in the mirror, you’re sure you look like a tomato, but all you can focus on is Pedro’s dark eyes, glittering in the low light, watching you in the mirror, his lips still trailing soft kisses up and down your neck, and across your bared shoulder. Your chest heaves at his affections, at the possessive way his hands lay against you.

“P–Pedro, what–? I–I don’t understand–” You trail off, a gasp escapes your lips as Pedro’s arm pulls you even tighter against him, his desire for you solid as iron against your back, his other hand trailing down the middle of your chest, right between your heaving breasts, to press firmly against your breastbone, keeping your upper back solidly against his chest. You swear you can feel his heartbeat, thudding in time with your own. His teeth nip at the skin of your neck, and your knees tremble, struggling to keep you upright.

“You accepted his love because you thought his was the only love you’d ever receive?”

Your hands grip his wrists, unsure if you want to press them harder against you or tear them away. His breath brushes against your ear, and you shiver once more. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

You gasp out loud as his teeth graze your earlobe, a soft “Yes!” flying forth from your lips as he moves his own back down your neck, suckling a small patch of skin where your neck meets your shoulder. You don’t know if you’re answering his question, or begging him to continue, but Pedro takes it as both.

He suckles harder, and one of your hands flies up to his hair, holding him against your neck, never wanting his lips to leave your skin. After a length of time–exactly how long you have no idea–he releases your neck, a small, pleased smile graces his lips as he admires his mark on your skin.

Your hand stays tangled in his dark hair, even as he raises his head slightly to look at your eyes. “You are worthy, my love,” his words caress her skin, and she feels tears spring to her eyes at the emotions those few simple words evoke. “You are so, so beautiful to me, inside and out.”

As you stand there, in front of the mirror, in the arms of the man you never thought would love you, and listen to his words, you might just believe him.

#requests #pedro pascal #reader #reader fic #no use of Y/N #i dunno why #i just don't like it very much #angsty #but also fluffy #masterlist #fics

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chibicrow · 5 years

Note

otp meme: datastorm, and I'm an indecisive trashcan so I say... all? or at least as many as you want/can?

*sob* I’m so glad the first two Anons for this meme want me to give Stardust Boi so much love I’m appreciative. 👏😭 (listen I love making fun of Ryoken, but also. he needs hugs.)

also giving me the opportunity to gush about Datastorm that much.... Giving me too much power here, Anon. >:3c

(I omitted #19-21 and #26-27 tho mostly b/c I didn’t think those questions would apply to them dlkafjalksdjf)

(also this REALLY got lengthy and tumblr won’t save the read more cut for whatever reason so sorry y’all aSDLKFASLFKASJF)

For the OTP Question Meme!!

1. Who is the most affectionate?

def Yusaku. like he would drown Ryoken in affection ok. (after the initial “do I really want to be that physically close” + finding out Ryoken’s boundaries phase lmao)

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

good thing I just looked this up ‘cause I was like “I have no hecking idea what this means.” lmao

anyway, Yusaku’s big spoon, Ryoken’s little spoon don’t change my mind.

3. Most common argument?

Going on the “Ryoken has severe mental health problems thanks to his asshole dad + once he realizes his dad was indeed an asshole” train, Stardust Boi has a tendency to be super self-deprecating, and this freaks Yusaku out a bit, so he just. Unleashes a tirade of compliments on the guy.

And Stardust Boi’s like “No I’m not. No. No. That’s not true.” until Yusaku hugs him to get him to stop. Usually works for the time-being. :3c

4. Favorite non-sexual activity?

BESIDES CARD GAMES? Taking naps. Particularly naps on the floor. Particularly with Yusaku sleeping on top of Ryoken. Actually it’s more like Yusaku sleeping on top of him and Ryoken just staring at him while smiling the entire time.

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

I mean, not that Yusaku ever does it, but he probably could carry Ryoken if he ever wanted to.

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

*sharp inhale* AAAAAAAA -

Ryoken about Yusaku: the rare (to him) and elusive Super Soft Yusaku Egao(tm). Gives him butterflies every damn time.

Yusaku about Ryoken: oddly specific, but Ryoken’s hair when it’s just washed (which is.... not everyday lets say. b/c he doesn’t need to. he’s a thick-hair boi) and conditioned. it’s like Supreme Soft(tm) at that point and Yusaku likes running his fingers through it (after Ryoken’s like “YOUR HANDS BETTER BE CLEAN I S2G” + Yusaku’s like “what do you take me for.”)

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

uh about Yusaku, just watch VRAINS like right when he realizes Revolver-sama’s That Person(tm) i’m pretty sure the answer’s there. //punted

I’M KIDDING.

Definitely the way they refer to each other IRL. RIP calling each other Playmaker + Revolver in real life. But then they’d just stick to surnames @ first b/c calling each other by first names? woah there.

But then, Ryoken’s actually the one who says Yusaku’s name first (probably right before he confesses his feelings) + Yusaku’s like “did u just.”

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

I...really don’t see them as the “giving each other disgustingly cute nicknames” couple lmao.

now them doing that is a different story but

9. Who worries the most?

Yusaku. Poor guy. With a guy like Ryoken tho, I don’t blame him lmao.

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Omg Ryoken hands down. Like he’s probably got Yusaku’s orders memorized to the condiment preferences for different meals of the day at different restaurants 😂 And Yusaku gets so embarrassed about it asdlkfalkjdf.

11. Who tops?

SADLFKJSALKFJ WAIT WASN’T THERE DISCOURSE ABOUT THIS FOR DATASTORM A WHILE AGO IN THE VRAINS FANDOM? Glad I didn’t get asked this then.... 😂😂😂 heckin’ rip.

Ok, this is gonna get super specific but uh, the gist of it is.... it depends, really? (as it should)

So like, if Ryoken + Yusaku are both in a good mood and are just like “hey we haven’t done this in a while” kind of thing, it’s Ryoken.

If Yusaku’s kinda down but still up for it, also Ryoken.

But if Ryoken’s the one who’s down, it’s Yusaku.

And then that once in a blue moon moment where both somehow get horny af . . . Yusaku. 😂👏👏

and those are my two cents *drops mic*

12. Who initiates kisses?

Ryoken! I mean, I think Yusaku’s affectionate (*gestures @ #1 answer lmao*), but he’d let Stardust Boi take the lead in the kissing department b/c.... well he never knows what he’s gonna get there, so..... 😂

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

ok I know this probably goes against episode 105 when Yusaku just looked at Aoi’s hand like “tf am I supposed to do with that”, but I’m sure Yusaku would reach for Ryoken’s hand first. It wouldn’t be like a gradual “reaching toward the hand” thing either. Yusaku would just. Speed-grab it like “it’s mine now”. 😂

bonus: so like if Yusaku does that while they’re sitting or something, Ryoken will massage his hand by rubbing little circles into his palm. CUTE DATASTORM AMIRITE?!?!?!

14. Who kisses the hardest?

DEFINITELY Ryoken. hot damn lmao.

15. Who wakes up first?

Ryoken. He wakes up at super weird hours too like boi do u even sleep.

16. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Yusaku~ <3 also he definitely tries to keep Ryoken in bed with him too lmao.

17. Who says I love you first?

ok this is kind of a tough call, but Yusaku, I’d think.

18. Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

Yusaku definitely leaves notes for Ryoken <3 Just a simple “have a great day ^w^” usually suffices lmao.

....yes Yusaku would def write ^w^ don’t change my mind.

22. Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

ok so originally I was gonna put Yusaku and leave it at that, but then I realized that it’s possible BOTH of them are hopeless in the cooking department. But, I guess Yusaku would still be my answer b/c at least he knows how to read the instructions on microwavable stuff.

23. Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

RYOKEN.....AND HIS PICK UP LINES ARE LITERALLY SO BAD.....LMAO. But of course Yusaku loves them + falls for them every time b/c of course he does.

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

Yeah still Ryoken dlsafaklsfja. Followed by Yusaku blushing like mad.

25. Who needs more assurance?

Ryoken...... Good thing Yusaku is an understanding cotton candy boi 💖

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

they’re like. super big into FaceTime (or whatever the VRAINS universe equivalent app would be) whenever both of them are up to talking a lot that way (which isn’t often b/c lmao introverts.) But they both know they need their alone time, so.

29. one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

......hello darkness my old friend..... (EVEN THO I TECHNICALLY DON’T HAVE TO ANSWER THIS BUT. alas. I am a fic writer.)

anyway y’all remember how VRAINS used to emphasize that Yusaku had nightmares for a decade about the Lost Incident?

well, considering Dr. Kogami (fuck him) let his own son listen to the sounds of screaming children as they’re electrocuted, I’m damn sure Ryoken has nightmares about that and has problems sleeping b/c of it, even having a few panic attacks. Yusaku can help him with those (b/c he’s been there), but he’s not sure what else to do other than be like “Ryoken pls go to therapy I beg you.”

(but Ryoken refuses to go b/c he really thinks talking about it w/ a complete stranger makes it worse)

anyway super unrelated to this entire meme, but wow, fuck you Dr. Kogami.

30. one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

ok but relating to the above, imagining Ryoken finally decides to go to therapy b/c Yusaku keeps insisting. And with the first few sessions, Ryoken gets worn out with every session b/c “wow emotions I didn’t know I had.” But Yusaku, being the real sweet boi that he is, always waits for him and always gives him a long hug. \ .D. / YAY HUGS.

#Anonymous #natsumi talks vrains #otp meme #datastormshipping #and i call this: natsumeme's datastorm headcanon masterpost DSALKFJSALKFJASKF #i hope the anon who sent this sees this!!!! THANK YOU!!!! 😭😭😭#long post

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oneletterwrites · 6 years

Note

Hi can I get some Patton and Virgil first dates fluff thx uwu 💕

Warning: Mild panic attack thoughts.

Today is the day! Virgil tilts his head in the mirror, scrutinizing himself as he tends to. He puts a hand to his face and drags down, wondering if the eye shadow under and slightly over his eyes is too much. His typical black clothing is leaning more grey. Today is the day. Today. Is. The. Day. Today IS THE–

“Virgil.” He snaps his head to Logan behind him, his eyes wide and a sting in his scalp from where his hands have begun to pull at the strands. Logan raises his hands gently to his chest, then lowers them, quietly and calmly until Virgil copies his pattern and calms down from his hyperventilation.

“Why are you having so much trouble preparing?” Logan’s question isn’t meant harshly but Virgil grimaces at him anyway. He’s not sure either. It’s not like he hasn’t hung out with Patton by themselves before, or held hands once or twice, or done anything remotely dateish ever but this is actually a date and dates are supposed to be more involved and and romantic and who knows if Patton really-

“Virgil.” Logan calls his name again and Virgil inhales sharply and holds it inside until his mind is okay again. He whines and flops to the ground to put his head in his hands.

“What am I going to do? What if he doesn’t like me?” He asks. Logan raises an eyebrow.

“If he doesn’t like you then why would he go on a date with you? Why would he ask you in the first place?” His smart questions do nothing for Virgil’s nerves. He picks himself up, wondering if the grey shirt should be black instead, or worse, even greyer. When has he ever worn so much color?

“Just be yourself.” Logan says trying to be helpful.

“What kind of shit advice is that?” Virgil deadpans with a neutral expression on his face, vastly different to the blinding panic he held the past hour. There’s a knock on the door. Virgil scrambles to put his back to it to keep it from opening. Logan glares at him and stands.

“Come in!” He shouts and Virgil is shoved off the doorway as Roman bursts in with seemingly no trouble. He’s got that wide royal smile on his face, not even saying hello as he grabs Virgil by the shoulder and throws him out into the open. He stumbles and lands in the arms of Patton.

“Whoa didn’t know you fell for me that hard!” Patton bubbles up into giggles, keeping Virgil close but helping him to stand right.

“Have fun!” Roman calls and disappears from sight with Logan right behind him. Virgil glares at them both, keeping his head down from the embarrassment growing inside him at both being pushed into Patton, and Patton’s lame joke after.

“Ready?” Patton tugs his hand and Virgil peeks up to see his face. A soft smile and bright look in Patton’s eyes and he melts. His shoulders slump to a more relaxed position and he nods softly. He doesn’t want to mess this up. It’s a date. Dates are supposed to be nice. But he’s not nice. So in turn, this date will not be-

The tirade of negative thoughts that would love to drown him are pushed away when Patton gently holds his face. His thumbs brush across his cheeks and Virgil takes a deep breath at the easy smile that greets him.

“We’re just hanging out, just like always,” Patton’s gentle tone is calming. Virgil reaches up a hand to place over Patton’s.

“I’ll just get to kiss you at the end of the night is all!” Patton tells him.

“What?!” Virgil couldn’t help the screech if he tried. Kiss? KISS? What to do what to do what. He’s pulled along, Patton’s hand in his a grounding presence. He swallows and focuses on that, not even looking up to where he’s being taken, afraid that he might actually lose his mind if he knows.

Head down he listens to Patton talk, and talk, and talk. About anything and everything as they walk along a gravel path. What he ate for breakfast, what silly thing he did in his room, what ridiculous idea Roman had for their date. Virgil snorts at a few of the suggestions, thanking everything that Patton is that he did rejected most of the ideas.

The idea he did go with is amazing. Patton throws his arms up and runs forward when they get to their destination. Virgil stands still, taking in the sight of the white gazebo with fairy lights strung around every pillar. There’s a picnic blanket set up and a small radio already playing soft music that sounds vaguely like music box versions of his heavier musical favorites.

Patton is smiling at the sight, waving Virgil over to the blanket. A smile twitches up on his face as he takes in the sight of Patton opening up his arms and asking for him to join him surrounded by soft lighting and looking so damn adorable.

“I’m here, I’m here,” He says plainly as he drops next to Patton, heart lurching as Patton snuggles up into his side, looping their arms together to be even closer. That small smile sticks to Virgil’s face as Patton continues to talk. He points out the stars and the fireflies that appear in the field around them.

“I’m just, so excited to be here with you!” Patton says halfway through eating his pizza. There are soda cans spaced between them, as well as cupcakes, chips, canisters of hot chocolate, a few cookies, and two bowls of spaghetti. Virgil is still unsure how the small picnic basket held all of what is inside, but Roman’s love for Mary Poppins may have something to do with it.

“Why?” Virgil asks sarcastically before he can really stop himself. The self deprecating thought slipped out without warning. He cringes as Patton twists up his nose to level him with a half hearted glare.

“Because I love you that’s why,” Patton crosses his arms and sticks out his tongue as if that is the final word on the issue. Virgil snorts but his heart has leaped up to his throat. He has a hard time pushing it back down. Words die on his tongue and air is difficult to come by. Nothing is in focus as his vision swims.

There’s something warm under his palm, up and down.

“Breathe my darling,” Patton says to him, kind and sweet. Virgil zeros in on his hand on the rise and fall of Patton’s chest. Steady and even. Things come back into focus and Virgil flops down to put his head on Patton’s shoulder.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Virgil asks bitterly. He raises a hand to clamp over Patton’s mouth.

“Don’t answer that,” He says. Patton giggles, the sound muffled by Virgil’s hand over it. Slowly Virgil lifts himself back up and Patton holds his hand tightly, placing soft kisses to his palm.

“Aren’t you happy to be here with me?” Patton’s voice is low. Virgil snorts and playfully bumps him.

“Of course I’m happy, I’m just also freaking out about everything,” His eyes go wide for dramatic effect and Patton bursts into giggles. A deep breath or two later and Virgil is smiling at him again. One arm is wrapped around Patton’s waist with Patton’s head on his shoulder. The food has been put away and they are watching the stars, some of them moving in the constellations they are. Patton plays with one of the strings of Virgil’s hoodie lazily.

“It’s just like hanging out, but with more cuddles,” Patton says with a smile on his face. Virgil shrugs. He supposes Patton is right. They probably still would have done this without the title ‘date’ looming over his head.

“I just, I don’t know, felt like something might change this. Still not even sure why you like me in the first place,” Virgil scoffs to himself. It sounds dumb coming out of his mouth. Patton whines and moves to face him, a small bit of sadness in his eyes.

“Nothing can change this. Relationships are built on friendships, and you’re my best friend.” Virgil can’t help but smile at that.

“And of course I like you. You listen to my rambles, try my cookies when I think they’re burnt,” Patton takes his hands to play with them, caressing and curling his fingers.

“You just make me feel happy inside, I get all the tingles,” Patton leans forward to give him a bunny kiss, rubbing their nose together. Virgil twists up his nose and backs away, trying to get the weird feeling of the nose brushing against his off without actually touching his face. Patton laughs at his facial expression but it’s a good laugh, the kind of laugh Virgil knows isn’t to make fun off him. He relaxes just a bit more and Patton just grins at him.

The smile on Virgil’s face falls a little as he watches a few of the fire flies behind Patton’s head dance around and then pause in a very specific pattern. He glares at the bugs with no hiding his distaste. Patton tilts his head and look to the bugs spelling out ‘kiss him’, and almost falls over laughing.

“Buzz off Roman!” Virgil shouts into the open air. The bugs zip in different directions making noises that sound very similar to the royal’s laugh. He rolls his eyes yet still a smile is on his face seeing the absolute dumb joy on Patton’s face. Finally he sits up, wiping out tears from under his glasses. He locks eyes with Virgil and a determined smile is on his face.

Virgil doesn’t have time to ask before he gets an armful of Patton and a face full of kisses. His body freezes at the sudden kiss, hands out at his sides and panic running in his mind. In his lack of stability they fall over.

“OH my goodness are you okay?” Patton snaps up leaning over Virgil, hands fretting over Virgil’s head and down his arms, mildly checking for bruising and any kind of injury.

“I’m fine.” Patton is still fretting.

“I’m fine Pat,” Virgil nabs his hands from roaming, holding them to his chest and doing his best to not freak out. Patton sighs relieved and hangs his head low jut a little, but it’s enough to make Virgil’s heart twist. He shuts off any kind of thought telling him to never speak again and opens his mouth.

“Can.. can we do that again?” His voice cracks a little. He’d be embarrassed but the shy smile Patton gives him is too much for him to think about anything else. When Patton leans down to place a more gentle kiss to his lips, he has enough sense to kiss back. His heart feels like it will beat right out of his chest.

Patton stays very close when he pulls away, their foreheads touching and a smile impossible to leave his face. Virgil has his own half smile as he cautiously runs a hand through Patton’s hair. It prompts Patton to flops down to Virgil’s chest and cuddle up into him as much as he possibly can.

“Was that. Is this good?” Virgil finds himself asking, needing to know if he’s doing the right thing. Patton hums happily and nods into his chest.

“I’d say so,” He says. Virgil sighs and wraps his arms tightly around Patton, looking to the stars as they continue to move. He snorts suddenly and Patton sits up to look at him.

“What?” He prods, poking at Virgil for answers. Virgil takes his hand and holds it tightly.

“What are you laughing at?” Patton tries again, sticking his tongue out but it’s hard to look intimidating while also giggling yourself. Virgil shakes his head.

“I guess, I really did fall for you huh?” He smirks at the first confusion that passes over Patton’s face then the utter and complete delight that breaks out. Patton squeals and wraps Virgil up in the tightest hug he can manage, smushing a kiss to his lips too for good measure.

As much as they enjoy the view from the gazebo, Patton shivers and pulls Virgil to his feet so they can go home. They walk hand in hand along the gravel path, Virgil able to keep his head up and stealing glances at Patton as they go. Patton places a kiss to his cheek every time he catches him.

“We should do something tomorrow too,” Patton says outside of his door. Virgil shrugs, squeezing his hands, maybe swinging them back and forth but he can blame Patton for that one.

“Like we always do?” He snarks. Patton boops his nose.

“Like we always do,” He agrees. Virgil smirks and shakes his head. He’s a little more graceful accepting Patton’s kiss this time, not freezing up as much and leaning into the touch. Patton smiles at him, soft and sweet and lovingly.

“I will see you tomorrow my darling,” He coos. Virgil ducks his head a little but nods. He waits until Patton’s door is closed before heading to his room. He can hear Patton squealing from down the hall.

“How’d it goooo?” Roman’s sass is too easy to hear. Virgil glares at him as the royal casually leans on the wall across from Virgil’s door. Logan is in his own doorway, an eyebrow arched in curiosity as well. Virgil huffs.

“It went.. well,” He says. A smile fights it’s way onto his face and Logan nods satisfied. Roman smirks proudly and goes to Patton’s room to gush with him more so. Virgil enters his room and sits on his bed.

When he’s absolutely sure no one can see him, he flops to his bed and rolls about in the covers, happiness wiggling out of him. It went well. It went very well. The feel of Patton in his arms is too real as it always is. Just like hanging out, only more kisses involved, and Virgil can’t wait for tomorrow.

Tag List: @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch, @princeyssash, @awesomelissawho, @authordrawingmusic, @a-blog-just-for-sanders, @somewhatsanders, @leafygreendisaster, @colinthehatter

#patton sanders #virgil sanders #moxiety #sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #drabble #imagine-nsfw-hetalia #not hetalia #you #love you

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minervajeanlupin · 7 years

Text

Ms. Maria Reynolds Walked Into My Life (3/?)

Other Chapters: [x]

“So what happened?” Eliza asked anxiously. She had been pacing around the courthouse for what had seemed like forever and she was still mad that they hadn’t allowed her in to watch the trial. Maria gave her a very tired but relieved smile.

“We’re divorced!” she said happily, clasping her hands with Eliza’s. Eliza smiled back, thrilled that Maria wouldn’t have to live with her abuser any longer. Alexander followed her, looking a bit upset.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him.

“Reynolds didn’t end up in jail. I should have done more,” he muttered.

“Don’t say that,” Maria scolded, sounding a lot more confident than before. “You’ve helped me in so many ways.” She leaned over to hug him and Eliza tried not to laugh at his surprised expression.

Maria pulled away and her carefree expression crumbled a little.

“Oh no,” she said worriedly. “I just realized I have nowhere to go now, as he kept the rights to the house.”

“You’re staying with us,” Eliza said firmly. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“But you both have helped me so much, and I can never repay you for any of this,” Maria protested. She already felt very guilty that she wasn’t able to pay Alexander much for helping her out, though he constantly insisted it was okay.

“Maria,” Eliza said, laying a hand on her shoulder, “We like having you around. Please stay. For us.” Maria looked at her and couldn’t say no.

“Okay,” she conceded. “Thank you.”

And that was how Maria Reynolds ended up staying with the two most attractive people she had ever met, both of whom she had a crush on.

They got into a routine fairly quickly. Eliza would be the first to wake, and she would sit outside and savor the peace and quiet. Maria would be the next to awake and she would sit next to Eliza, still getting used to this feeling of protection and contentment. They would be careful not to wake up Alexander, knowing he probably stayed up all night working and needing his rest.

Once Alexander was awake, he would work on whatever new case had come his way while Eliza and Maria made breakfast. They would eat together, talking and laughing about their childhood. Maria loved this time of day, she loved being able to listen to the two of them talk about their past.

Once Alex had hurried out of the house after kissing them both on the cheek, Maria and Eliza would do chores, like cleaning the house. Though this would seem like it would be dull, monotonous work, Maria didn’t mind doing it with Eliza. It was actually quite fun at times; they even had a water fight once that left them, and everything in the vicinity, soaked.

Once Alexander returned, the three of them would chat comfortably until night, illuminated by the soft glow of the fireplace. Alexander would often rant about the terrible opinions of everyone he didn’t like, which was a very, very long list. Eliza and Maria would nod seriously at his tirades, but exchange glances behind his back, their eyes bright with mirth and restrained laughter.

The two of them would then head to their respective rooms, Maria occupying one of the guest bedrooms for now. She knew Eliza sometimes stayed awake until late at night, making sure her husband didn’t spend too much time working, and she had begun to do the same.

It was domesticity and it was bliss. Maria tried to stop herself from feeling too attached to them, but it was too late. She was completely head-over-heels. And how could she not be? They made her a better person: Eliza helped her become more carefree and trust others again, while Alexander encouraged her to take more risks, and helped her stop being so compliant. She was always worried about intruding on them, not wanting to outstay her welcome, but she needn’t have worried. They both seemed to genuinely like her company- Eiza was always telling her how great it was to have another ally to force Alex to stop working, and Alexander liked her company as she was the only one willing to listen to his stories about all the times he defeated Jefferson in a debate (she found the stories amusing but Eliza assured her she wouldn’t after he repeated the same story twenty times).

But she managed to ignore her feelings, or at least conceal them pretty well. Sure, sometimes she would zone out and stare at Alex’s stunning eyes as he ranted, or she would blush when her and Eliza’s fingers touched for a second too long, but they didn’t seem to notice. She was glad for all the peace in the house, but she dreaded to think what would happen if they found out just how much she liked them. Certainly nothing good. But for the most part it was peaceful. In the mornings, at least.

She had no control over night though. Almost night, after she had bade farewell to Elia and Alex and made her way to dark room, she had nightmares filled with terror and trauma that left her gasping for breath, unable to go back to sleep for a long time. One night she had an incredibly vivid dream of a time her ex-husband beat her so much she nearly died. She woke up from the dream screaming, clutching the bedsheets desperately. Her breathing was heavy and labored, and she tried to be quiet as she didn’t want to disturb anyone else.

“Maria?” Alex asked quietly as he opened her door slowly. Maria sighed. He had heard. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… fine,” she said, her voice hoarse. Alex cautiously approached her bed.

“Nightmares?” he asked sympathetically, a glint of understanding in his eyes. She nodded miserably.

“I keep dreaming of… of him ,” she said in a whisper. He walked over and sat down next to her on the bed.

“I have nightmares too,” he said, reaching over to grasp her hand. “I keep imagining the hurricane and the devastation afterwards, how my mother was holding me and then wasn’t there the next moment, the time my brother and I arrived home only to find our cousin’s blood splattered over the steps, all the lives I took and the lives of my friends that had been taken during the war… I can stop myself from remembering this during the day, but I’m vulnerable at night. It’s a constant, exhausting cycle.”

She squeezed his hand.

“Does it ever end?” she asked. He considered it for a moment.

“No,” he said finally. “But it does get better. Eliza helps a lot. Being close to other people that care about you makes it a lot easier for me to remember that all of that was in the past, that I have a loving family now that aren’t going to leave me.” Maria nodded, her eyes trickling with tears.

“Well, I don’t really have anyone like that,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh to hide how deeply affected she actually was with the thought that no one cared about her. Alexander turned to her, shocked.

“What are you talking about?” he asked. “We care about you. We are your family.” She looked down, blushing. Maybe, just maybe, Eliza and Alex cared about her as much as she cared about them.

“You know what?” Alex continued. “Sleep with Eliza and I. We’ll be right next to you in you need anything.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly-” Maria protested.

“There’s more than enough space,” Alex interjetced. He knew most of society would greatly look down upon this, but frankly, he didn’t care. “Please, Maria. For me.” Maria thought about it for a moment. It was probably a terrible idea, but she still felt shaky and just wanted to be near someone else- or two someone elses.

“Okay,” she whispered. Alexander helped her up and they walk to her room. They tried not to wake up Eliza, but she was a light sleeper (which was useful as Alex had to be more cautious about staying up till three in the morning, like he had just done) and woke up anyway. She didn’t say anything, though, and just smiled at the two of them sleepily and moved to the side to make space for Maria.

Maria had the best sleep in her life. And if she woke up and felt as though she was on the top of the world when she saw Eliza’s arm curled protectively around her waist and Alex’s hand resting lightly on top of hers, well then, nobody needed to know.

#my fics #my work #hamilton #hamilton: an american musical #alexander hamilton #eliza schuyler #maria reynolds #the schuyler sisters #hamliza #marliza #hamria #hamarliza #james reynolds #lams #ms maria Reynolds walked into my life #cinnamon roll eliza

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