#it’s just funny that if we ever get the finale that Thomas will visibly look 4+ years older and be in a new setting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

evermoreholland · 4 years

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Stay With Me | Professor!Tom

PROFESSOR!TOM X STUDENT!READER

summary: tom has been overworking himself and you take care of him.

warnings: student/teacher relationship, tom snaps maybe once, this is pure fluff

word count: 1.5k

a/n: this could be a second part to falling, which is a fic i wrote for prof!tom, but this can be read on its own.

Walking into the lecture hall every Monday morning was always the best start to your week. At first, British History was not something that interested you, but over time you had come to enjoy it very much. Maybe it was because of your cute and intelligent British professor, but you wouldn’t admit that to anyone.

You and Professor Holland had been seeing each other for the past few months. It obviously had to be on the down-low, but you were both willing to take the risk. You couldn’t help your attraction to him, and him to you. Tom was 26 and you were 21 so everything was completely legal. Also, student-professor relationships were frowned upon.

At first, things between the two of you were merely physical. You would go to his office after hours, pleasure each other, and then you’d leave. That was all. But over time, Tom and you both caught feelings for each other. Tom loved your mind. You had the most amazing ideas and you were always wanting to learn more. You were an overachiever and tried your hardest. Tom could see that almost immediately, and that action alone made him in awe of you.

Tom was the kindest person you knew. He had a heart of gold and always made sure to take care of you before he took care of himself. You had become one of the best people in Tom’s life and he showed you every day with his love for you, but he had yet to tell you exactly how he felt.

You came into Professor Holland’s office one late night so he could look over your essay, and maybe do other things too. You hadn’t seen Tom except for your British History lecture at the beginning of the week. Tom was busy teaching and grading and you were busy writing your paper for his class, along with the other assignments you needed to complete.

You walked through the History department building and made your way upstairs to Professor Holland’s office. It was around 8pm and his office was the only room with the light on. You knocked on the door three times like you did every time so that Tom knew it was you. You heard footsteps from behind the door and the door opened to reveal your handsome boyfriend. It felt good to see him again. You admired his glowing skin and beautiful curls that were no longer gelled.

“Good evening, Y/N,” Tom greeted. He moved away from the door to let you in and you walked in and took a seat by his desk. Tom closed the door gently and made his way back to his desk. The room was dimly lit, papers were scattered all over Tom’s desk, and he had many disposable cups around his desk, which you assumed were once full of tea. Tom looked tired and you were afraid that your presence would overwhelm him, especially because you didn’t need to be there right now. “Let’s take a look at your essay, shall we?”

You pulled out your laptop from your bag and opened up the document. “We don’t need to do this right now if you aren’t up for it, Tom.” You saw Tom rub his eyes once more and you knew that he needed to go home and go to bed. “We can do this another time.”

“I said that I would help you out, and it’s only 8,” Tom replied. He turned your computer around so he could see what you have been working on. “Let me take a look.”

“But you’ve been up since the crack of dawn and you went to bed really late last night.”

“Y/N, I’m fine,” Tom snapped. “Please just let me look at this.”

You stayed silent after that. You didn’t want to argue with Tom. He was a grown man and he knew his limits. You just didn’t like seeing him so stressed out and tired. He continued to read your essay and then began typing some suggestions soon after. He turned the computer back over to you so you can look at his suggestion. “Thanks,” you mumbled.

“I didn’t mean to snap at you, love,” Tom apologized. He was tired, but he didn’t want to admit it. He just wanted to get everything done and then take a break. He hated having to stop but he knew that you were right and that he needed to take care of himself. “You’re right. I’m exhausted.”

You closed your laptop and put it back in your bag. “Let me take you home, Tom.”

“No, no. Y/N, there’s no need. I can crash on my couch here.”

“Tom, don’t be ridiculous. You need to go home, shower, and then sleep in your own bed,” you insisted. Tom hesitated but then finally nodded in agreement. “Ok, then. Pack up your stuff, Holland. I’ll drive.”

“I don’t want people to see us leaving here,” Tom said, worried that you’d both get caught. He needed to go home desperately but he didn’t want to jeopardize anything.

“Tom, don’t worry. No one is here. Most people don’t live in their offices like you do.”

“Very funny,” Tom replied. He cleaned up around his desk. He threw away some cups, put papers in his file cabinet, and packed up his briefcase. Once he was done, he put on his coat. “Let’s go.”

You drove Tom to his apartment. You were nervous because you didn’t know if he’d want you to stay with him. This was all new territory for both of you.

“Want to stay?” He asked as you parked the car in his spot. “I could use some company.”

“Of course, I will. I can make you more tea.”

“I’d love that, darling.”

You both went into Tom’s apartment. It was weird seeing where Tom lived. His home was almost as messy as his office was. Dishes in the sink, shoes cluttered around by the door, and papers scattered around on the coffee table. But the apartment itself smelled of Tom; mahogany and teakwood coated your senses. It felt like home.

“Want chamomile tea?” You asked as you looked through Tom’s kitchen cabinet.

“Would love some, babe. I’m going to shower, be back in a few.” Tom kissed your cheek and then went to what you assumed was his bathroom. You filled up the kettle with water and put it on the stove. You heard the water running from the bathroom and a smile appeared across your face. You were happy that Tom was finally letting loose and you were hoping that you’d get him to relax for the rest of the night. Once the water was heated, you made two cups of tea.

Tom came back to the kitchen after his shower with just grey sweatpants on. Your face became hot. It wasn’t like you have never seen Tom shirtless before, but it felt hotter now that you were in his home. There was something so domestic about it that made your heart flutter. “You smell good, Tommy.”

“Like my shampoo?” Tom asked and then wrapped his arms around your waist and began kissing your neck. “The tea smells good too.”

“Want some?”

“Yeah, let’s go sit on the couch, darling.”

You sipped your tea in comfortable silence. Tom had his hand on your thigh and your hand was on top of his. “I like this.” Tom eventually broke the silence.

“Me too.”

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you said. You wanted this for as long as possible. You wanted to come home to Tom and drink tea with him every night. “I like spending time with you.”

“This is probably the best cuppa I have ever had,” Tom said and then finished off his cup. He hummed in delight as the last sip of tea covered his throat.

“Glad you liked it, Tommy.”

“Do you want to stay the night? It’s getting late,” Tom offered as he noticed the time.

“You want me to?” You asked nervously. You weren’t sure whether or not to accept. Of course, you wanted to stay with Tom, but you couldn’t help but feel scared.

“Love, I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t want you to.” Tom kissed your forehead and you nodded, indicating that you wanted to stay.

Tom gave you a towel so you could shower and a pair of pajamas to change into. Once you were done, you went to Tom’s bedroom and you saw him getting under the covers. “Hey, sleepy.”

“Hey,” he mumbled. “Come to bed, baby.”

The pet name made you smile. You walked to the bed and got under the covers. You snuggled up close to Tom and you touched your nose to his. “Night.”

“Night, Y/N. Sweet dreams,” Tom visibly paused. He looked like he was going to say something, but held back. You noticed.

“Cat got your tongue, Thomas?” You teased.

“I’m scared,” Tom admitted.

“Of what?”

“Falling too fast and then getting my heartbroken.”

“I would never break your heart, Tommy,” you reassured him. You didn’t want him to be afraid to share things with you. You wanted to know how he was feeling.

“I’m falling in love with you,” Tom confessed.

“Well, that’s great,” you paused to kissed him. You pulled away and said, “I’m falling in love with you too.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #professor!tom #professor!tom holland

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canon-transgender-virgil · 3 years

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Check In (Intrulogical)

A/N: Finished this fic relatively quickly! It's a lot shorter than the Roceit one I posted earlier this week but it's still kinda a long fic lol!

Summary: Directly following the events of WTIT, Remus pops into Logan's room for what he claims is a quick chat, but that quickly grows into something more when the two actually get to talking.

Content Warnings: innuendos, swearing, intrusive thoughts, implied NS/FW (but nothing happens, dw), hurt-comfort

Logan had taken shelter in his room the moment Thomas got home from his outing with Nico. The logical side couldn’t stand to be around the other sides at the moment and he needed to sort out what was going on in his head.

The spectacled side took a deep breath and sat at his desk, staring at the wooden tabletop before slamming his fist down on it. “Fuck!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, infinitely thankful for the magic soundproofing around everyone’s rooms. What would the others think if they heard the rational, level headed (yeah right) Logic yelling expletives at random in his room?

He straightened his tie and glasses and got up, summoning a straw dummy labeled “Thomas”. He stood in front of it and glared at the doll, visibly angry, before he began ranting to it. He talked and talked, yelling at the dummy about how angry he was at being constantly ignored and pushed aside and made fun of, and if the familiar 10 notes announcing a certain Creativity’s presence hadn’t gotten his attention, he would have continued.

“My my Logan, you’ve got so much to say and no one to say it to, huh!” The moustached side raised an eyebrow, smirking at the nerd.

“...what do you want, Remus.” Logan’s words were curt, like he was trying to say just little enough to make the Dark Side leave.

“Gosh, I can’t just talk to a friend?-”

“We are not friends.”

“Ouch!” Remus pretended to be injured. “You’re so prickly, like a kinda sexy cactus! What’s up your ass today?”

Logan stopped and consulted his flashcards, hearing Remus snicker at this and trying to ignore the fact that his face was burning slightly. “Um… Ah.” He found the card he was looking for and examined it a little. “Nothing is ‘up my ass’ today, Remus. You know full well why I’m upset.”

“Uh huh, cuz I called you out on your lying ass.” He sounded irritatingly proud of that fact.

“Yes, well, you got what you wanted. Are you just here to rub it in my face?” Logan stared at Remus, though he noticeably avoided direct eye contact with the gremlin of a side.

Remus frowned. “No, actually.”

“Then you’re here to make me… feel… worse, correct?”

“Nope!” The green-sashed monster grinned.

“Then what do you possibly hope to gain from this interaction?” The blue tied Side frowned. Remus wasn’t here to bug him, or to upset him further? What reason, then, did he have to come to Logan’s room?

“It’s like I said earlier, I wanted to talk to you!”

“...what about?”

Remus shrugged. “I dunno! What do you wanna talk about?”

Logan blinked. “...excuse me?”

“Yeah! Let’s hear what you wanna talk about!” The Duke sat down on Logan’s bed and grinned up at him.

“...” The teacher was silent. “...you’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“Huh?” Remus blinked and raised an eyebrow. “Why would I-?”

“Yes, I figured as much. Remus, I don’t have time for your games and if you’re simply going to make fun of me you can just-”

“Woah! Pump the brakes Lo, who said I was making fun of you?” The green side looked legitimately confused.

Logan crossed his arms. “Remus, statistically speaking, a total of… Zero sides share any of my interests. A total of three sides have shown aversion to or have mocked the things I consider interesting or enj- er, have a vague liking towards. Why should I believe you aren’t here to add to the latter set of data?”

“First of all, because I sat through that whole talk.” Remus joked. Seeing that Logan just rolled his eyes, he continued. “And secondly, because we also have some of the same interests! Your census of mockery only includes J-Anus, Emo Boy, Hop-Pop Patton and my dumbass brother!”

“Really? Then what are some of those shared interests, oh Duke of Imaginary Death?”

“That was terrible, one.” Remus held up his pointer finger. “And two, we both like chemistry, and poisoning, and astronomy-”

“Wait wait wait.” Logan held a hand up to silence Remus for a moment. “You… like astronomy?”

“Sure! What’s more existentially terrifying than imagining going hurtling right into the sun, or a black hole, or-” Remus’s eyes widened as he talked about the possibilities.

“Thank you, Remus.” Logic sighed. “But… why talk with… me?”

“Cuz… I kinda owe it to you? After being a dickhead all day?”

Logan blinked. “You didn’t have a phallus for a head today?-”

“Figure of speech, teach.” Remus explained curtly.

Logan ‘ah’d’ and nodded.

“And anyways… I wanted to apologize.”

That caused Logan to stop. “...you… wanted to apologize… to me?”

“Yeah, it’s weird for me too, but it’s true! I didn’t mean to make you so mad you - figuratively - blew up, I just wanted to prove a point.”

“I appreciate your use of the word figuratively Remus, and… thank you.”

“No problem!” Remus grinned and thought for a second. “So… wanna talk about forensics?”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “Do I ever!-” He stopped. “Ah, uh, I mean… If you’d like to…?”

Remus giggled. “Cute! But you don’t have to hide that, not around me at least!”

“...thank you…” Logan smiled softly and the duke’s heart just about stopped.

“Uh, um… no problem Nerdy Wolverine.” Remus smiled weakly at the cute nerd.

The logical side rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Remus’s shoulder, which brought the moustached side’s attention to just how touch starved he was - a problem for another day, Mus.

“So what d'ya wanna talk about? Black lights, true crime?”

“Both interesting conversations, but… how about another topic you mentioned earlier?” Logan sounded timid, like he was scared Remus would stop listening if he dared to change the subject.

“Oh? What’d you have in mind?” The intrusive thot tilted his head at a sickening 180 degree angle, but that didn’t seem to bother Logan.

“You mentioned being fascinated by astrology as well. Would you like to talk about that?”

“Of course I would, my nerdy Astro-Boy Toy~” Remus laughed at his own nickname, to which Logan rolled his eyes again. “What about space, starlight?”

Logan’s smile grew ever so slightly, thankfully drawing Remus’s attention to that as opposed to his pink cheeks. “Well… let’s talk about constellations. You’re a storyteller of sorts, what’s your favorite constellation origin story?”

“Ooh, how fun!” Remus grinned. “Well, I personally love the story of Aquila, the king who got turned into a golden eagle messenger thing because Zeus got jealous of how much people liked him! You know, he’s the one who brought Zeus his cupbearer, Ganymede? That’s where the Aquarius constellation comes from! He was some Trojan prince, he ended up being the god of homosexual love! Historians think his name was a euphemism, since it’s a combination of the Greek words for ‘gladdening’ and ‘genitals’!”

Logan nodded and watched Remus explain the stories, smiling at how enthusiastically Remus shared the information. Remus noticed this and stopped. “Well, how ‘bout you, teach?”

“Huh?” Logan blinked, being pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Remus’s voice.

“You wanted to talk about constellations! What’s your favorite story?”

“Oh, um… I enjoy the story of Orion, the hunter who killed so many innocent creatures that Gaea sent a large scorpion to kill him and then put both of them in the stars for all eternity.”

“Huh! So that Scorpio constellation…?”

“Yes, that’s its origin story as well.” Logan smiled.

“Funny! I would never have guessed it!” That wasn’t true. Remus knew each and every constellation origin story like the back of his palm. He loved Greek mythology, but the only thing he loved more than that was seeing how Logan’s face lit up when he got to explain it. “Any other stories?”

The teacher blinked and adjusted his glasses. “Oh, um… I also enjoy the Cassiopeia story…”

The duke’s face brightened, eagerly awaiting Logan’s explanation. The spectacled astronomer’s face turned pink when he realized this, not sure what to do with this sort of attention.

“Well, Cassiopeia was a queen in Ancient Greece and she claimed to be the most beautiful thing in creation, which Posideon took personally since he had made what he considered to be the most beautiful creatures, and those were the sea nymphs. So Posideon sent Cetus, this giant sea monster, to torment the town, and he told the citizens that if they wanted him to get rid of the monster, Cassiopeia would have to apologize. She didn’t, so they asked if they could do anything else, and Posideon said if they sacrificed Cassiopeia’s daughter Andromeda to him that Cetus would go away, so the townspeople kidnapped her and brought her down to the pier. Poseidon didn’t like that, of course, since he was really just trying to get Cassiopeia to apologize and didn’t want some poor mortal’s blood on his hands so he let Perseus save her and kill Cetus.

“As punishment for almost letting her daughter die to save her own pride and for insulting the gods, they put her in the sky upside down on a chair to humiliate her for the rest of time.” Logan had gotten pretty excited while he explained the story, grinning widely as he finally finished it.

Remus was silent the entire time, watching how happily Logan told him a story he’d heard a million times before and thinking about how nice it was to be able to hear it from the nerd’s perspective.

Logan, finally remembering Remus was there, coughed softly and adjusted his tie, his smile fading. “Um, apologies, Remus. Thank you for letting me ramble.”

“Lo, you were telling a story! That’d be really dickish for someone to just cut you off during a story, you know?”

“I know, but I still appreciate it.” Logan yawned and Remus realized he looked tired, like the story had exhausted him.

“You wanna take a nap, teach?” The duke frowned and tilted his head.

“I… I have to finish up my work for the day…” The logical side moved his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“...Lo?”

“Yes…?”

“You had a long day. Yes it was cuz I was being a bitch, but still, you need to get some sleep. Or, y’know, I’m gonna be even more of a bitch to deal with!” Threatening intrusive thoughts usually worked to get Janus to go to bed when he refused to sleep, so he figured he’d try the technique out on Logan.

The nerd however simply shook his head and laughed softly. “I don’t think so, Remus. I can… I can handle you…”

“You couldn’t today, could you?” Remus accidentally blurted out before immediately covering his mouth. “Oh my god I didn’t mean that-”

“It’s fine, Remus.” Logan stated, rubbing his eyes. “You’re right. I couldn’t handle you today. But I really do have to finish working on this-”

“I’ll stay with you if you go to bed!” The duke once again blurted out. “Cuz I don’t think you’d wanna stay alone with Orange so close by, y’know? I can stay and like, fend him off!”

Logic blinked at the proposition and squinted. “...you… want to stay with me? Why are you so adamant about me getting proper sleep?”

“Well one, cuz it’s already 10:30 at night, and two, cuz… you know, I don’t wanna end up actually hurting you!”

That further surprised Logan. “You don’t want to end up hurting me? I was under the impression that that’s something you enjoyed.”

“Well…” Remus was hesitant to explain - that tipped Logan into the fact that it was probably something more than that.

“What’s really going on Remus?” The stern side crossed his arms and stared at the Creativity.

“...okay, I don’t wanna be alone tonight!” The duke stomped his foot and crossed his arms, looking away. “My nightmares have been getting worse and Janus is hanging out with Roman and Patton today and Virgil hates my guts so I figured I’d at least try to hang out with the one side that for some reason still tolerates my dumb ass!” He sounded a little hurt, and added, “Or, one that wouldn’t immediately kick me out or hit me with a broom at the mere sight of me.”

Logan blinked. “Nightmares? You suffer from nightmares?”

Remus sighed and tugged on his sash. “Yeah, they suck ass - not in a fun way - but it’s part of the job description, y’know?”

“I don’t. But… does this mean you also suffer from intrusive thoughts?”

“...yeah… They’re kinda the reason I came in here in the first place...”

The logical side sighed. “Remus, you could have told me sooner you just needed company. I’m not the best at keeping up conversation but I could have at least put on a movie for you to refocus on something other than your intrusive thoughts.”

The duke blinked. “You… you’re not gonna just kick me out?”

“Why would I? You’re in need of assistance and I’m going to provide it for you.” Logan got up and rummaged through his DVD stack. “What would you like to watch?”

Remus stretched and looked over. “Whatever ya want, Sub-astute but Super Cute Teacher.”

Both sides flushed red when they realized what Remus had said.

“...interesting nickname, Remus.” Logan gulped, looking down.

“Yeah, uh…” The duke laughed weakly. “Well, I guess that cat’s out of the plastic bag it was choking in, huh?”

“What, that you think I’m cute?” The teacher looked over at the moustached Creativity. “You already called me sexy.”

“Well yeah, but that felt less… sappy, than calling you cute. And anyways, I meant that I was into you. Ooh, do you have Coraline?”

Logan stopped. “...repeat that, please?”

“The Coraline thing?-”

“The thing before the Coraline request.”

“Oh yeah, I like you.” Remus was right to the point, like always. “When I saw you take the shuriken to the face and just keep on moving right along… God, that was an image!” The duke gripped his thigh and shook his head, stopping himself from reaching down his pants.

“And you’re telling me this now… why?” The teacher was still reeling from the initial confession.

“We don’t get to talk one-on-one a lot! Plus, I don’t really like talking about cutesy emotions - that’s Roman’s department, y’know?”

Logan nodded slowly.

“Anyways, I changed my mind on the movie, can you put on Monster House?”

The spectacled side nodded and got the CD for Monster House, putting it in the DVD player and sitting next to the green-sashed side. He should have figured Remus wouldn’t be the type to linger on his feelings, and he was grateful for that at least. He couldn’t handle talking about feelings for long periods, especially not his own, but to have one of the most passionate sides just drop the fact that they liked him and immediately move on from that fact? It was odd. He almost couldn’t believe it.

Remus meanwhile was laying on the bed and watching the movie intently, smiling brightly at the screen before realizing that Logan had gotten into bed next to him. He turned over a little and growled “seductively” at the teacher, who laughed softly at the dark creativity. The sound caused butterflies to erupt in the duke’s stomach, flustering him a little. He smiled back at the logical side before returning his attention to the movie.

Logan meanwhile admired Remus, watching as he talked excitedly about the movie. He found it strangely endearing, how excitable Remus got when he was able to talk about things he found interesting. He didn’t have much time to think about it though, as he found himself falling asleep soon after the thought passed through his head. The astronerd yawned and passed out, sleeping peacefully next to the intrusive side.

The duke didn’t notice until he felt warm arms wrap around him. It startled the hell out of him, but he relaxed after he realized it was simply the sleeping teacher clinging to him. He carefully took Logan’s glasses off and turned off the TV before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

**The next morning**

Logan woke up first the following morning, still a little tired but feeling much better than he did the previous night. Vision blurry, the blind scholar felt around his nightstand for his glasses before realizing he was curled up into another person. He quickly got his specs on and saw the sleeping form of Remus below him, remembering that Remus had asked to stay with him the night before.

He looked at the sleeping creativity, who looked much more peaceful (and admittedly much cuter) asleep than he ever did awake. Still feeling somewhat tired, the Sherlock kinnie looked away and closed his eyes, feeling his face start to burn. When did he start thinking of Remus as “cute”?

Logan didn’t have too much time to dwell on it as he heard Remus start to stir. “Ugh… morning starshine…”

The teacher jumped and sighed. “Oh, good morning Remus. Did you sleep well?”

“Like an asphyxiated baby… you?” Remus groaned and stretched, waking up a bit more.

“I slept well too.” Logan fidgeted with his hands. The dark creativity, sensing the spectacled nerd’s unease, sat up and went to get off the bed. He was somewhat shocked to feel Logan tug on his sleeve. “Stay. I wanted to talk about what you said to me last night.”

“Oh… that.” Remus sighed and sat back on the bed. “What about it?”

“I… I’m not entirely sure what it feels like, but I think I reciprocate your feelings?”

Remus’s expression changed from slight concern to a poorly hidden malicious grin. “Oh? You’re into me?”

“I… think I am.” Logan nodded slightly.

The duke was silent for a moment before bursting into a grating cackle. “Oh- oh my god! Oh my god, you’re gonna kill me nerd!”

The scholarly side tensed up and blinked. “Excuse me?-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! What kind of goddamn loser are you, to think I - or anyone really - would like you?! Especially after the bullshit you pulled yesterday, like Jesus Christ you’re pathetic!”

Logan’s heart sank as he heard Remus say this. “So you were, what, mocking me?!”

“No shit, Sherlock!” The intrusive side cackled once again before morphing into a huge octopus-human hybrid monster and grabbing the teacher. “You’re so fucking stupid! What on Earth made you think someone like me would like someone like you?! You’re lucky any of the others even talk to you anymore!”

Logan panicked as the tentacles pulled him up to Remus’s razor sharp teeth, about to chomp down on his head, when-

“Lo! Logan, wake up!” The logical side heard Remus’s voice coming from somewhere it should not have been, and Logan woke up with a start. Remus frowned as the teacher practically flung himself away from him.

“Get away from me!” Logan’s voice sounded frantic and panicked, like a cornered animal.

“Woah, woah!” The creativity held his hands up in surrender. “Teach, it’s me!”

The teacher took a few deep breaths and grounded himself, looking around. “...right, right… Apologies, Remus…”

“No problem, Nerdy Wolverine. Now, care to tell me what happened?”

Logan sighed and moved over to Remus, explaining to him his nightmare, tentatively telling the nightmare inducing side that he’d tried professing his mutual love to the other before getting horrendously mocked and belittled.

“Sounds a lot like my Nightmare Nico scenario. Has this happened before?” Remus had managed to ignore his thundering heartbeat and the cheering going on in his head - Logan likes me back!! He could focus on that later. Right now, Logan needed his help.

“No. I don’t normally dream, period, so to get a nightmare is extremely unprecedented.”

“Huh… so, I’m the reason you had the nightmare?”

“That would be the logical conclusion, though I had assumed that your effects would be… muffled, in my room?”

“Maybe it’s a mix of psychological and my effect on you guys? Like you were stressed or anxious about last night so my ability to give people nightmares got amplified?”

Logan nodded. “Interesting hypothesis, and it’s… definitely possible. I apologize for yelling at you earlier.”

Remus shrugged. “Eh, it’s okay, I’ve heard worse.”

The nerd nodded and the two were silent for a moment before Remus sighed and asked what they were both thinking. “So. I like you, and you… apparently like me back? What does that make us?”

Logan hesitated. “I… I’m not sure. What would you like us to be?”

The duke grinned. “How about boyfriends?”

The scholar smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

Remus beamed brighter and moved a bit before stopping. “Can I kiss you?”

Once again mildly surprised by the other’s bluntness, Logan nodded and scooted closer to the dark creativity. Remus quickly pulled the former into a kiss.

Logan was the first to pull away, flushed red and smiling to himself. “I think I could get used to this.”

Remus grinned and took the scholar’s hand. “Me too, Lo. Me too.”

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #intrulogical #ts logan #ts remus #tw innuendo mention #tw swearing #tw implied ns/fw (but nothing happens)#hurt comfort #long post #sanders sides fanfiction #lucifer writes

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years

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Tactical Retreat

Prompts: averykedavra: could i request,,,logince? maybe an imagination fic? roman retreating to the imagination and logan finding and comforting him? no pressure, but thank u regardless, and your stories are incredible!

Anon: So I’m I adore your writing and like I’ve read your stuff on ao3 and I just wanted to ask if you ever thought of that conversation between Roman and Remus and stuff that they mentioned in that story about Logan relapsing...? I just, I love the way you write your characters and dive into their head and manners so well- it’s incredible. (I’m shy to say but I also write a bit and I saw you’d left a comment on my story and I kind of died cause you’re incredible and I’m majorly inspired by you-)

Thanks for the prompts, babes! they fit so well that I did them together, I hope that's okay ^_^also: GUYS PLEASE VIEW THIS AS A

C H E C K P O I N T

if you've been scrolling for a while (and you probably have) pause here! drink water! get food! walk around the room for a little bit! stretch! do something please! you are very important to me and I care about you very deeply!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: explicit discussion of self-harm. I’m not kidding. I fucked myself up writing this a little please take care of yourselves. sympathetic remus

Pairings: logince, creativitwins, implied LAMP, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 5131

Retreat: an act or process of withdrawing especially from what is difficult, dangerous, or disagreeable.

Retreat: a place of privacy or safety: REFUGE.

* * *

“We are so not done with this conversation,” Remus had said.

That would certainly explain why Remus barges into Roman’s room at absolutely-unreasonable-do-you-have-any-idea-what-time-it-is o’clock.

Roman just looks at them all and raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, please. It’s not all long sleeves and pants all summer for no reason.”

“R-Roman, you—you—?”

“Yeah, Specs,” Roman murmurs when Logan can’t find his words, “me too.”

“Oh, we are not done with this conversation.”

…

“Will you let us help you clean them?”

Unbidden, Logan’s face flares bright red.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, sweetie…”

Roman gently nudges Remus’s arm. “Let me. You two go check on Patton and Virgil.”

“What?”

“Roman—“

“Come on,” Roman coaxes, “it’s not like I don’t have the practice.”

“We are so not done with this conversation.”

That would certainly explain why Remus barges into Roman’s room at absolutely-unreasonable-do-you-have-any-idea-what-time-it-is o’clock.

“Remus,” Roman sighs, sitting up and covering his eyes, “I know it might not seem like it, but I do need my beauty sleep too.”

He frowns when Remus doesn’t say anything.

“I can look at whatever you’ve made tomorrow,” he promises, “I just—I don’t really want to—not that I don’t want to!—but can I…sleep, first, please?”

Remus still doesn’t say anything. Roman peeks out from behind his hand to see Remus…is still humanoid. The door isn’t…off its hinges, it’s just been slammed open. His morningstar isn’t in his hands. His brother is just staring at him.

Shit.

“Re?” Roman sits up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the light. “Re, are you—can you come here please?”

Remus walks into the room. Roman pulls back the covers, making room for his brother, already running through the checklist in his head. No blood, no guts, first aid kit is in the corner, he can get the shower running if need be…

It’s only when Remus actually stops next to his bed that he realizes what’s going on.

Remus is wearing his soft things. Remus has opened Roman’s door. And now he’s getting into the bed and just staring at him.

“…Re?”

“Ro,” Remus whispers, and oh no, “Ro, you…you didn’t have anybody?”

Roman’s heart clenches in his chest and an emptiness oozes into his throat. He should’ve known that Remus was serious when he said they weren’t done with that conversation.

“…Re, I—“

“Don’t bullshit me, Roman,” Remus hisses, the desperation bleeding into Roman’s lungs, “I know you, Ro-bro, and you—you—I’m gonna kick their asses.”

Roman sighs, his head falling back to the pillow. Now that the worry over his brother has dissipated, he really just wants to go back to sleep.

“You don’t have to do that, Re,” he mumbles.

“The hell I do!” Roman winces and he hushes. “You—Ro, you know what my job is. You know I—“

“Yeah, Re, I do know what your job is.” He stifles a yawn. “I…sorry, I just…I’m really tired right now.”

A sharp poke to his belly makes him squeak.

“Remus!”

“I told you, Ro, you can’t bullshit me.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Something, anything, Ro, you—“ Remus chokes— “Ro, you’re my brother. You’re fucking important to me.”

“I know, Re, I…well, I would say I’m sorry, but you told me not to bullshit.”

“So you’re not sorry.”

“Sorry for worrying you, yeah. But not for…” Roman sighs. “I would just be apologizing for how it makes you guys react and not because I’m sorry for what I’ve actually been doing.”

Remus is quiet for a moment. The bed dips under his weight as he slides under the blankets. Then he shifts a little closer until his hair brushes Roman’s nose.

“…when you said you knew what my job is,” he mutters after a moment, “you didn’t just mean the intrusive thoughts, did you?”

Roman shakes his head. “Thomas…I’m the…safe Creativity. I’m the fluffy, dreamy, Disney side.”

Remus moves to look up at him, encouraging him to continue.

“So I…I tend to romanticize things. I get the pretty, artsy, palatable version of things.” The emptiness bubbles up lazily into his throat. “Of everything. You…you get the real version of them.”

Even in the dim light, he can see Remus visibly pale.

“You get all the messy consequences, the realities of…a lot of the things that I wouldn’t.” Roman swallows. “So…”

“Oh, Ro…”

“Do we have to have this conversation now?”

Remus props himself up on his elbow, the blanket sliding a little off his shoulders. “Do you wanna have it in broad daylight, then? Plan it all out, sit down with a drink and a notebook? Have one of your lists to work down?”

“…can you at least close the door, please?”

A weight leaves Roman’s chest as the door closes and the light vanishes, leaving them in near darkness. His eyes close.

Damn it.

The mattress sinks as Remus gets back into the bed. He’s too far away for Roman to feel him. But he can feel his gaze on him.

“What do you want from me?”

“The truth?”

Roman huffs. “Is that all?”

“I dunno, Ro-bro, you’ve gotten pretty good at misleading everyone else.”

“I’m an actor.”

“Yeah, which means you’re really not good at turning it off.”

A mirthless laugh bursts out of one of the bubbles in his throat.

“Haven’t exactly had much of an incentive to do that.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Come on, you think any of them have actually wanted the real me for…ever?”

Remus scrambles up. “Roman, that’s—fuck, you’re one of the core Sides. You’re—you’re so fucking important, Ro, they—they love you.”

Something darker than darkness shears through the emptiness.

“No,” Roman growls, turning his head into the pillow, “no, they don’t.”

Did they ever? Or was that just an easy way to string along their favorite little puppet?

Before the anger can fully take hold of his throat, the emptiness oozes back into place and his jaw slackens, prompting another sigh as Remus freezes above him.

“What’re you talking about, Ro,” comes his voice from somewhere, “they—you—aren’t you…?”

“They say it,” Roman manages, “but I don’t think they mean it. Or if they do, it’s not—it’s not like that.”

“Well, then what the fuck is it?”

“They don’t want to listen to me, not really, they just…well, they need someone else to be there.”

“It’s funny because I’m pretty sure we just had this conversation with Lolo.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Remus pokes Roman’s shoulder until he rolls onto his back. He glares. “I don’t care what anyone else says, Ro, you’re fucking important. You’re not replaceable. And you’re sure as hell not unlovable.”

Roman flinches.

Remus tilts his head, eyes widening.

“You don’t believe me.”

Roman shakes his head.

Remus lets out a shaky breath and lies back down, still staring at Roman. “Ro-Bro, what did they do to you?”

“What, you want the list alphabetically or in chronological order?”

“Roman, please.”

Roman’s eyes snap open in shock. Remus stares back at him, pleading. His brother is begging, he realizes in a panic. He wasn’t sure Remus knew how to do that.

“I’m—“

“If you dare say you’re sorry, I’m gonna rip your testicles out through your mouth.”

Roman swallows. “They just…they won’t listen to me,” he repeats lamely, “they don’t want me.”

“What do you mean, they don’t want you?”

Conveniently, Roman’s brain is now entirely empty. He knows stuff has happened to him…doesn’t he? Things…stuff’s been bad now. For a while. He’s been…doing whatever this is for a while.

So why can’t he remember?

“Every time I come up with an idea, it’s—they always want to change it.” But that’s just part of the editing process. He needs the others to help him edit.

“They think I’m too loud.” He is, though.

“I’m—they think I’m—“

Arrogant? Overbearing? Stuck in a fantasy world?

All of the above?

“Nothing,” he whispers finally, “they didn’t do anything to me.”

He buries his face in his hands.

“They didn’t do anything to me. I’m just—I’m just being overdramatic. It’s fine.”

“It’s clearly not fine.”

“Isn’t it?” He flaps a hand at Remus. “You’re the one that gets the real version of all this. I get the romanticized version. No consequences. Just pretty words and sentiments that don’t make sense.”

“You think Thomas is okay with a self-harming Ego?”

“Well, maybe Thomas deserves a better Ego!”

The room freezes.

Roman squeezes his eyes shut. “Thomas deserves an Ego that knows what he’s doing. That believes in himself. That can do all the things it’s supposed to do.”

He lets his hands fall limply away from his face.

“But all he’s got is me.”

I’m not enough.

“I can’t—I can’t do my job without being able to…” He sighs. “I’m the opposite of Logan.”

“…how so?”

“Logan does it to make things go away so he can work. I do it make things come so I can work.”

He feels Remus tense on the bed.

“Romanticized, remember? That’s my job. Fantasy, dreams, romance, not real. I…” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.”

A wave of exhaustion threatens to snatch his words from his mouth. God, talking about this is so draining. Can he be done now?

“How,” Remus says after a moment, “can you possibly say it doesn’t matter?”

“Can’t I just go to sleep now, Remus?”

“No,” comes the snarl, “you can’t fucking go to sleep, because you’ve just told me it doesn’t fucking matter if you self-harm and that you think you aren’t good enough without it.”

Roman shrinks into himself. “Don’t yell at me.”

“Give me one good reason why not!”

“Because you’re making me want to do it again.”

Remus’s breath leaves him in a rush.

“Oh, Roman…”

Roman just curls up tighter.

“I’m doing this all wrong,” he hears Remus mutter faintly before something ruffles his hair and the bed dips further, “Ro-Bro, hey, look at me.”

“Are you going to yell at me again?”

“No, Roman, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse. I’m just really upset for you right now. I promise I won’t yell.”

Roman looks up. Remus smiles back at him, still not touching him. If he wanted to, he could reach out and tug Remus closer, but…that’s hard.

“Hey,” Remus says quietly, “you here with me?”

Roman nods.

“I’m sorry, really,” he continues, “we can…if you really want to stop, we can stop.”

“…no.” Roman shakes himself a little. “You’re right. I’d rather…I think I’d rather do it now, like this. So I don’t have to do it later.”

“Okay.” Remus shifts a little. “Can I ask you some questions or do you just want to talk and I’ll listen?”

“I don’t know if I can just talk.”

“That’s okay, Ro. How about this: I’m gonna ask you stuff and when you wanna say something, you just say it.”

“Okay.”

“How long has this been happening?”

Roman shuffles. “Long enough. Um…at least a few years.”

“Do you have the medical supplies you need to take care of it afterward so they don’t get infected?”

“Yeah.”

“If you run out, can you easily get more?”

“Yeah.”

Remus lets out a long, slow, breath. “Okay. Okay, that’s…that’s good.”

“Is that it?”

“Do you want it to be?”

Roman falters, looking at Remus’s face. The room is still dark. It’s still the middle of the night. The world is paused, breathing softly. He…he has time.

“…no.”

“Okay.” Remus shifts to lay on his side. “Can I ask you more stuff?”

“Sure.”

“It’s not just cutting, is it?”

Roman’s face burns. “No.”

“Will you tell me what else it is?”

“I don’t let myself eat. I read things I know are gonna be bad for me. I put myself in situations that I know are gonna be bad for me.”

“Can you give me an example of one?”

“…I submit an idea I know they’ll hate.”

Remus lets out another breath. Something tingles on the tip of Roman’s tongue, pressing up against his lips.

“…why didn’t you come to any of us?”

He swallows it down. “I didn’t think you’d listen.”

“I will,” Remus promises, “I always will.”

“How can you promise that?”

“Because you’re my brother,” he answers like it’s the easiest thing in the world, “and you’re important to me.”

Oh.

“So if you wanna talk,” he continues like he hasn’t just shattered Roman’s worldview, “I’m here to listen.”

The tingle is back. He stares at Remus, stuck. He can talk. He should talk. They just had a conversation with Logan about that. He should know this. This shouldn’t be happening to him.

He squeezes his eyes shut.

“You have to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Don’t touch me until I’m done.”

He can tell he’s startled Remus by the way the covers jerk back.

“…I promise.”

Here goes nothing.

“It’s not that I want this,” he starts, the words aching on his tongue, “that I want to feel bad, or upset, or—or…hurt. I just…sometimes it’s easier to work that way.”

He scuffs a hand over his nose.

“If I’m upset, I can…I know what kind of thing would make me feel better. Or I know how I am feeling and I can make an idea feel it instead. I know—I need—we—I—“

He sighs.

“I hate this.”

“You’re doing great.”

Doubt that. “They don’t want me. They tell me I’m too loud, I don’t make enough sense, I’m too rash, I’m too selfish.” He swallows. “That I spend too much time dreaming.”

His face twitches.

“They think they know what I dream about.”

“…and what do you dream about?”

Roman sinks his head into the pillow, the soft material cool against his cheek. The bed is warm, the room slightly chilled, the air a comforting weight. The emptiness froths in his chest.

“It’s not important.”

“Bullshit,” and only Remus could make that sound affectionate, “they’re your dreams, Ro.”

“Not Thomas’s.”

“So?” Remus reaches out to poke him but freezes halfway. The sight of his hand retreating makes Roman ache. “We just figured out that we’re allowed to not just depend on that, right?”

“Not at the expense of Thomas.” Roman huddles tighter. “And they wouldn’t care about it anyway.”

“Why do you think they don’t care about you?”

“Isn’t that what I just said,” he growls, scrubbing his hands over his face, “that they don’t want to listen to me? That they only ask for my opinion when they think I’ll be easily manipulated enough to agree with them? That when I’m not they reject me and everything I try to do for them?”

He takes a deep breath and draws his hands away. The sight of Remus, just out of reach, just there, hurts. It hurts. The urge to bury his nose in the crook of his brother’s neck hurts.

“No,” comes Remus’s voice quietly.

Roman blinks. His hands freeze, halfway to Remus.

Right. He asked for this.

He wraps his arms tightly around himself and squeezes.

“I can’t play the role all the time,” he murmurs, “so I have to…remind myself.”

“And that’s why you…?”

“Yeah.”

Remus is quiet for a moment. The room hurts. Roman is cold.

“Ro,” his brother says after a minute, “is you asking me to reject you if you look for physical comfort self-harm too?”

“…perhaps.”

“‘Cause you know self-denial is self-harm too.”

“Perhaps.”

He looks up to see Remus’s eyes…glistening?

“I hope you know I’m gonna hug you really hard now.”

“…please?”

Remus all but throws himself at Roman, rucking up the covers something awful as he bowls them over onto the pillows, his arms around his brother. Remus is big and warm and solid and soft and perfect, squeezing Roman so tightly he worries for a minute that he won’t be able to breathe. He buries his nose in Remus’s neck and oh, it’s everything he ever wanted. This is—

This is dangerous.

This is warm and solid and fire burning in his stomach. This is being able to eat and eat and eat until his tongue turns black and falls out of his skull. This is standing in front of a hurricane and the winds whipping around his immovable body.

This is opening that pit in his chest and giving himself to the need to devour.

Remus must feel the way he tenses in his arms and nuzzles into his hair.

“Ro-Bro?”

“Re?”

“Hey, what’s going on? You went weird there for a second.”

“This…this is okay, right?”

Remus squeezes him again. “Yes, Roman, this is okay. You’re allowed to hug me, I’m allowed to hug you.”

“It’s okay that I…want this?”

Remus stills and Roman panics.

He’s messed it up. He’s told Remus that he wants something. He’s told Remus that he wants something. He’s told Remus that he wants something. Remus is going to think he never wants to hug him. Remus is going to tell the others he’s being selfish. He’s let them know he still wants. He’s ruined everything.

Then Remus tightens his grip so much Roman gasps.

“Yes, Roman. This is perfectly fucking okay. You’re allowed to want, Ro. You’re supposed to want.”

“But I—Re—“

“Sorry.”

Roman pants as Remus loosens his grip. Just a little.

“But I—that’s never a good thing. Anytime I want something, we—they—I—I’m supposed to give it up.”

“One of these days,” Remus grumbles, mostly to himself, “we’re gonna sit down with Patton and have a conversation.”

“…like, this kind of conversation?”

Remus grumbles something inaudible.

“But every time I want something it goes wrong.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to want, Roman.” Remus tucks his face back into Roman’s neck. “You’re allowed to make yourself satisfied.”

Roman shakes his head. He’s learned this time. He got it right this time. There’s no sainthood in satisfaction. Selfless is safe. He’s figured out how to hide his appetite and put them into his work and not ask for more. He knows not to take up too much space. And when he doesn’t, well…

He knows how to remind himself.

When he says that to Remus, Remus pulls back to look at him.

“You don’t think you deserve to make yourself happy?”

He tries to busy himself with fiddling with Remus’s shirt. “I’m what Thomas wants. Or I’m supposed to be. Who cares about me?”

“I do.”

Roman huffs sadly. “I don’t—yes, thank you, Remus, I—I care a lot about you too.”

“You can say you love me.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, what were you going to say?”

Roman sighs, his eyes falling closed. “I want to be happy. I can’t be happy until Thomas is happy. And Thomas isn’t happy with what I want.”

“Oh, Ro…”

“I’m just—why can’t it be okay for me to just be happy?”

“It is, Ro, you can be happy.” Remus gives him another squeeze. “It’s…you can be you, Roman. That’s okay.”

“But it isn’t. It never is. And I can’t—I can’t be happy. Not yet. I have work to do.”

Remus shifts until his chin is tucked over Roman’s shoulder.

“…thought you were the hero, Ro-Bro?”

As the words plunge deep into Roman’s chest, he smiles.

“Name me one hero who was happy.”

When Roman really doesn’t want to be found, he goes deep into the Imagination.

Remus knows, now. Remus came and found him. Remus talked to him. Remus listens. Remus knows.

He was fine with telling Logan. Logan is different. They want Logan. Logan is wonderful and amazing and deserves the world. Or the stars. Or both!

…Janus also knows now.

He’s not sure how he feels about that.

But they’re going to want to talk to him. They’re going to want to know things. And Roman.

Roman can’t. Not today. It’s too much. It hurts too much.

“‘Cause you know self-denial is self-harm too.”

“Go away,” Roman mutters to the ghost of Remus’s voice as he pushes through the tangled brush.

This is different. This is avoiding an overload. This is when he’s already packaged up his appetites so they’re acceptable. This is when he’s already been stripped of what he wants and he has to leave before he gets stripped of who he is.

And it’s so, so stupid.

The others haven’t even done anything today.

Have they ever?

It’s just…sometimes it’s hard, okay? Roman knows he has to do it—no, he doesn’t—yes, he does—but sometimes he just wants everything to stop for two fucking seconds.

There’s a dark patch of woods on Roman’s side of the Imagination. When he brings the others in, they spot it and think that it’s the gateway to Remus’s side.

That’s actually at the bottom of the lake. The gravity flips as you enter this brine pool with a dense methane atmosphere over it. It’s pretty cool, actually.

But not this forest. This forest is Roman.

It’s the last part of Roman that lets himself want.

Deep between the trees, if you can find your way through, there’s a clearing. It’s very small, just large enough for a massive tree with white petals, almost brushing the ground. The petals sway gently in the little bit of breeze that manages to get through the thick walls of the other forest. Underneath is a little bench swing, just large enough for Roman to sit or lie down if he wants to. It smells gently of the blossoms. It’s quiet.

It’s his.

As he slogs through the last part of the foliage, he almost drops to his knees in relief. He made it. He can stop now.

The swing creaks welcomingly as he sits down, the tree reaching to ruffle his hair. He closes his eyes and lets his head tip back. It’s safe here. There’s nothing that can hurt him. It’s his place, his haven. He doesn’t have to pretend here. His eyes flutter open as he watches the petals fall from the branches. They twist and turn until they land on his red sash.

He picks it up. It’s so small. And soft. It’s pretty. It looks so white against the red of his sash. Why isn’t the rest of his shirt that white?

And the sash is so…so…red…

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the sunlight gleam off of the blade of his sword.

A wounded noise escapes Roman’s throat and echoes around and around the still glade. His hands clutch at his sash as he tumbles gracelessly from the swing.

How could he be so selfish?

Logan is hurting. Logan is struggling right now. The others should be focused on Logan. Not him.

Is this what he thinks he needs to stoop to now? To—to—to get attention now? He hasn’t learned his lesson about asking for attention? Hasn’t he learned that asking for anything hurts?

Is that why he wants to do it so badly?

Because it doesn’t matter that Roman self-harms. It doesn’t matter that telling Logan that he cared, that telling the others that he could help felt like selfishly turning Logan’s problem into something about him. It doesn’t matter that Roman’s wildest dream is to have someone care for him the way he desperately wants to be able to care for them.

Roman wants.

Roman’s not supposed to want something Thomas doesn’t want.

So Roman will be selfish here, in this glade, all by himself, where no one can see it, so that he doesn’t hurt anyone else.

Then he hears something.

“Roman? Roman, where are you?”

No.

“Roman! Roman, answer me!”

“No,” he whimpers, scrambling back against the tree.

Logan can’t be here right now. Logan—Logan has enough of his own to worry about, he can’t make Logan worry about him too.

“Roman?” Logan’s voice takes on a note of panic. “Roman!”

He should tell Logan it’s nothing to worry about. He should come out of the woods and smile, say he’s fine. He should ask Logan if he’s okay.

He doesn’t want Logan to see this place.

He doesn’t want Logan to see him like this.

He doesn’t want Logan to ask him if he’s okay.

Because he isn’t, and he’ll want to tell Logan that.

He staggers to his feet and starts to try and make it out of the glade before Logan gets too close. But the flowers are too soft, too warm, too safe. He can’t make himself get up, can’t make himself stop relentlessly taking comfort. He can’t stop wanting.

“Roman?” The leaves crinkle together. “Roman, are you back here?”

No, he should say, don’t come in here, it’s dangerous, I’ll come to you!

Yes, he wants to scream, yes, come find me, come help me, I want you.

The glade holds its breath as Logan bursts through the trees.

“Roman!”

Before he can blink, Logan’s crouching in front of him. He adjusts his glasses and reaches out for Roman’s shoulders, smoothing over the gold trim and examining his face anxiously.

“You’ve got scratches all across you,” he says worriedly, “did you have a hard time getting through? Are you alright? Were you with Remus?”

“No,” Roman mumbles, cheeks burning, “not…not Remus’s fault. Mine.”

“Roman,” he tuts, “you getting injured during a fight isn’t the fault you make it out to be.”

“…not a fight.”

Logan frowns. He glances over his shoulder. “The branches? I managed to get through with barely any scratches, perhaps if we go back through together, we can—“

“Wasn’t the branches, Logan,” Roman interrupts softly.

“Then…” He can almost feel the minute Logan’s eyes land on his hands lying limply at his sides. “…Roman, did you…?”

He nods, shame burning in his gut.

“…this may be a redundant question,” Logan says quietly after a moment, “but…are you alright?”

He can’t help the huff. “Would you like the honest answer or the acceptable one?”

Logan blinks. “Roman, you…you can always be honest with me. I apologize if I have ever given you the impression that you can’t.”

He must be able to see the disbelief on Roman’s face.

“…I do apologize for making you think your honesty was not wanted,” he says, shifting forward to kneel in front of Roman, “and…if it helps, I do believe I owe you.”

“No,” Roman says quickly, shaking his head, “no, Logan you don’t—you don’t owe me anything.”

“You cared for me.”

“That’s what anyone would do,” Roman argues, “what they should do. You shouldn’t owe me for basic decency. If anything, I owed you that.”

“Why would you owe me that?”

He laughs sadly. “Because I’m me? Because I’m loud and obnoxious and never want to listen to you?”

“And what about me? I’m cold and callous and dismissive of you.”

Roman shakes his head. “No, you’re not.”

Logan reaches up to push his hair out of his face. “And you’re not either.”

The wind ruffles through the petals. Logan looks up and smiles.

“It’s beautiful.”

Roman ducks his head. “…thanks.”

“So this is…yours?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s wonderful, Roman.”

“Thanks.”

“You don’t believe me,” Logan says softly, “do you?”

Roman just shrugs.

“Talk to me,” he coaxes, cupping Roman’s face in his hands, “come on, now.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Now, I don’t believe that for a second.”

It hurts. He wants and it hurts and it’s not supposed to hurt and of course it’s supposed to hurt. Everything hurts. Logan scoots a little closer and waits patiently.

“…it used to be easy,” Roman whispers finally, “I used to be able to…to make this work. And now…now I don’t know how to anymore.”

“How what works?”

“I’m not supposed to want,” Roman confesses, “I’m supposed to want for Thomas. And I…I don’t know what that is anymore. Maybe I never did. But I—it used to be easy for me to make myself stay where I was supposed to be. And how to remind myself to be safe in—in—“

“Pain,” Logan finishes.

Roman’s head throbs.

“Oh, my dear,” he murmurs, pulling Roman forward into a burning hug, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Roman slurs, drunk off of Logan’s arms around him, “don’t…don’t stress about it.”

“I’m worried about you, little star,” Logan says against his temple, “you’re hurting.”

“We all hurt.”

“Yes, and recently, someone very smart said that something like this isn’t necessary for us to love you.”

Roman looks up slowly, his eyes brimming with hope. Logan smiles down at him, head tilted in silent question.

“…you think I’m smart?”

“I think you’re quite intelligent, yes.” He catches a tear on the edge of his thumb. “And I think you’re hurting yourself, little star.”

“I…I am, Logan.”

“I know,” Logan whispers, “I know you are.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Shh, shh,” he soothes, “don’t apologize, little star, it’s okay. I’m not angry. I understand.”

Of course he does. He’s Logan.

“It’s not easy, is it? It never is, it’s just…we have to unlearn things, now.” Logan strokes a hand through his hair. “Sometimes it’s going to be a little harder.”

And Roman is here, in his glade, under his tree, protected by the eyes of the world by the thick forest wall, and he wants.

He wants to throw his arms around Logan and hang on for dear life. He wants this pit in his stomach to fill to bursting and disappear forever. He wants everything to stop, right here, so he can live here forever.

What comes out instead is: “…can you hold onto me?”

Logan nods instantly. “How much?”

“…like I might fall off the face of the earth if you let go?”

“Can that happen,” Logan asks even though he’s already moving.

“Not if you hold on.”

A chuckle rumbles through the warm chest as Roman’s cheek comes to rest against the soft fabric. “Then I’d better hold on tightly.”

Taglist:@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @private-snippers @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @theaceofcrows @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires @cyanide-violence @oonagh2 @xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #logan sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #self harm #tw self harm #tw: self harm #logince

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freddiekluger · 4 years

Note

I am all ears for your season 3 cap's big gay awakening ideas 👀👀

alright, you asked so sit down and strap in

before we get started- a few details are recycled/repurposed from earlier headcanons/ask answers (characterisation is like that), and i came up with all this a couple weeks back, so any overlap with other peoples suggestions is totally unintentional! i’ve just been finding the energy to properly write them up as originally i riffed them with a friend late at night lmao

the captain: homo evolution

introduction (scroll down if you’re not bothered for the hardcore analysis/logic)

this isn’t necessarily what i think WILL happen as much as how i would do it. over the past two seasons of Ghosts, we’ve seen the captain’s main character arc being centred around him loosening up, from learning to value mike, alison, and the other ghosts more as equals than soldiers/means to an end to the season 2 finale, where cap is not only expressing an interest in flowers and fashion (distinctly un-soldierly pursuits) but joining the party and other men (the direct opposite of About Last Night, in which cap bah humbugs partying/’gay abandon’ and is left speechless by the mere presence of a mostly naked man). that being said, the captain is still the captain: his character is still centred around this need for rules and structure and he still finds his identity in the archetypal WW2 military man- all of his incremental moves towards a more ‘modern’ perspective have ultimately been made possible because, like Ben said on twitter, the captain isn’t CONSCIOUSLY aware that he’s gay. he has the underlying feeling that he’s different, he knows of his tendency to attach himself to specific men and form incredibly close bonds (and, as demonstrated by his attempts to hide them, is at least somewhat aware that that’s not the norm), but in his mind he’s written that off as merely “not being a ladies man”.

the captain is from the 1940s- it’s one thing for him to see and be supportive of a same-gender wedding in present day England where gay=legal unions, marketed doritos, and homophobia being still present but generally frowned upon, and another thing entirely for him to have to apply it to himself. we’ve already seen that the captain appears to be stuck in the past more than any of the other ghosts (”the war is over!” “is it, alison? is it?”- he also references the past more frequently than most of the others), and in his past sodomite gay=punishable by imprisonment and chemical castration, back alley hookups, and the constant threat of blackmail and violence. obviously, despite all this, there was a vibrant underground queer history taking place in England during this time & not all of the above is accurate, but it’s what cap would have seen, and the England of the early 20th century is denoted as being a particularly brutal period for lgbtq+ folks (the destruction of the first world war exacerbated rage and frustration, and lgbtq+ people weren’t the only gorup to end up on the receiving end of that, but i digress). this is basiclly just a really long way of me saying that the captain compartmentalising to that degree was, and to some extent is, a survival mechanism. confronting his homoseuxality means confronting what it means for a 1940s man to be a dreaded homosexual, and all of that directly conflicts with the image of ‘the Captain’ he’s built in his mind.

we’ve seen this in Redding Weddy, where the captain is aware that Havers means/meant more to him than was normal for a captain/2ic relationship (he does attempts to hide his affection- “i shall miss you, Havers. by which of course i mean we shall miss you “he left me, i mean he left for the front”), but is never able to fully verbalise WHY, and it only takes a series of increasingly dramatic prompts before he will even mention the idea of Havers, let alone begin to articulate their relationship.

all this just goes to prove that for the captain to properly ‘come out’, there needs to be an external inciting incident- he could easily have gone on shadowing attractive men whenever they visit and avoiding interrogating those feelings for another seventy years if Button house remained without alison and mike.

while at least julian, pat, and robin have noticed that the cap is not the most heteroseual of men (they’re the only ghosts who have visibly reacted when cap says gay shit), they all appear to have decided to just not mention it, which makes alison and mike our wildcards. not only has alison’s ability to see and communicate with the ghosts already connected them more to the modern world than they ever have been, alison, and mike by extension, has a personal stake in the wellbeing/general growth of the ghosts. happy ghosts=happy house, and like it or not some of them are even beginning to become friends. [i probably didn’t need to write all this like explaining my decisions, but i think figuring out the motivations behind everyon just develops the flavour and lets us have a sexy and accurate headcanon]

so,

the episode

while the captain might not consciously know he’s a fruit (derogatory), he is well and truly terrible at concealing the thirst (it’s not his fault things just keep slipping out!)- i love the idea of just having a supercut near the beginning of the episode that just shows that the captain has gotten even GAYER since last season, with slip ups becoming almost a daily occurence, but it’s getting to the point where it’s actually becoming a serious hazard. last week, he was supposed to be looking out for alison while attempted to put up blinds, but one of mike’s friends (who was over ‘helping out’, which mostly meant eating chips and covering himself in paint) walked through the room with his shirt off and paint handprints on the seat of his shorts, distracting the captain from realising that alison’s stepladder was about to give way.

with the increased presence of non elderly men in the house (the previous owner wasn’t exactly the life of the party) the captain is getting gayer and gayer, but he’s also becoming more and more defensive, while his brisk demeanour and need for control regresses to much more of a season 1 state (a subconscious attempt to regain control as things get close to spilling over). it’s not the first time his repression has almost slipped, he spent much of his life surrounded by soldiers after all, but with no war and no corporeal body he’s got almost nothing to distract himself from it. needless to say, between the safety hazards and the almost agressive defensiveness which derails any interaction, something needs to be done about the captain.

throughout the week, alison tries to find the opportune time to talk to the captain about what’s going on with him for everyone’s sake, but cap keeps masterfully evading any ‘deep’ talk with willful misunderstanding or just straight up dismissal (which at times gets a bit rude), and alison really doesn’t have the time- her and mike are caught up with managing the first official room redecoration and butting heads with a passive agressive delivery driver. insert general shenangigans, but at some point the captain’s whole “accidentally sabotage something by being distracted and then attack anyone who dares even look at him the wrong way afterwards” act causes alison to exasperatedly blurt out “we all know you’re gay! we get it! you like men! you can drop the act!”. there’s no malice or anything but, as we know, when alison gets run ragged things don’t tend to come out quite right.

everything falls silent (and mike is vaguely confused), and the captain just looks like a deer in headlights. as alison catches her breath, pat pipes up with a “it’s alright, cap, we don’t mind- now we can focus on the task at hand”. the captain sort of regains his composure and once again attempts to brush them all off with a scoff and a “i haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. if any of us is distracted, i-it’s... kitty!” but it’s easy to tell he looks rattled. most of his words don’t come out right, and after trying to blame kitty for their failures (she just had the unfortunate luck of being in his line of sight), he ends up doing an awkward little walk away which quickly turns into a full on sprint. mike, having finished processing alison yelling about gay shit to the air and kind of pieced together what must have happened awkwardly chimes in with “it’s okay to be gay!”- alison just pats him on the back (”yeah no he’s gone, mike.” “gone?” “sprinted away.” “huh”)

the episode continues with the captain flat out avoiding alison and the other ghosts to an almost funny extent as the other plots continue. it takes a bit for alison to realise why the captain reacted so badly (in fact, it’s actually mike who remembers that he’s 1940s ghost- “he’s probably just scared and taking it out on everyone else”). while thomas and julian vote for leaving the captain be so they can have some peace and quiet, fanny/pat/alison/robin decide someone needs to talk to him (fanny surprised everyone but after all, she got murdered because her husband had to live in secrecy- if talking to the captain will avert any further crises, she’s happy to make sure someone else does it for her). kitty’s still upset about being singled out, but she knows better than anyone that sometimes all you need is a friend- cue realisation no. 2.

with the captain avoiding everyone, sending in a regular emissary isn’t going to work. they need to find the least threatening person possible, with no agenda or history other than being there to help (a friend, if you will)- cue everyone looking at mike.

a quick offscreen briefing later, we see mike wandering out to the field where the captain has exiled himself- remember that up until this point, the captain was still in conscious denial about his sexuality, so being forced to confront it head on (and finding out that apparently everyone ‘knew’, which for cap would feel like an intimate invasion of privacy/forced vulnerability) would rattle him to the point of self-exile- he might not be able to run from his sexuality, but he can run from people. the thing is, mike can’t see or hear the ghosts, which means the captain can’t be frightened off by any expectations (mike actually talks to/at cap while facing completely the wrong direction, but consdiering the above point, this works rather well).

the captain was alternating between pacing, fiddling with his swagger stick, and sitting, but he unconsciously stands to attention as mike wanders over. he’s used to mike not being able to see them, so mike asking to sit down takes him by surprise, disrupting his instinct to flee again.

mike begins a little awkwardly (”mind if i sit?” *silence* “...i’m just gonna assume that’s a no. or is it a yes? yeah anyways i’m just gonna sit. so... heard you’ve been going through a rough patch”), and the captain almost scoffs and wanders off, but something about the clumsy earnestness in mike’s voice, the captain’s vulnerable state, and the fact that it’s been so long since cap has had anyone actually check in on him, that he stays put. he keeps standing and staring away from button house, and mike keeps speaking to the empty air to his left, and alison and the ghosts stay hidden behind their bush a few metres away, but at least the captain is listening. for the first time in weeks, he’s not on the offensive.

“i can’t actually see or hear you, so i’m just gonna talk and assume you’re listening. alison mentioned you have a habit of running away but, um, maybe don’t do that please?”

“my mate daniel's gay. uh, homosexual, you’d probably say- did you have gay when you were alive? did it just mean happy? anyway, he didn’t come out- that means tell people- until he left high school. we all kind of guessed it, the other kids at school gave him a real tough time for it, but he just squashed it down. couldn’t imagine that all the things people were shouting at him were true, so he ignored it. he’s doing good now though. got married to his husband last year, currently runs a bookshop. so that’s nice.”

it goes quiet for a bit. the captain hasn’t moved, and we’re still only seeing shots of him from the back, but there’s a little less tension in his stance than there was before. mike clears his throat before continuing.

“i’m guessing you’re probably pretty scared right now. i would be- i mean not that you should be, you shouldn’t, but coming from your... situation, i’m guessing it’d be hard. no one’s saying you have to be anything you’re not ready to be, but lots of things that are scary are actually not bad. airplanes, skydiving, clowns- well, not the clown from that movie, but he gives clowns a bad rep- i’m sure there are plenty of lovely clowns out in the world. still give me the creeps though.” the captain makes a captain-y noise of assent about the clown comment- he never liked them either.

mike glances over to the bush where alison and the ghosts were attempting to listen in (they could only catch every few words- mary got particularly concerned about why mike had referenced clowns), and the captain still hasn’t run away, so alison motions for mike to keep going. he starts telling the captain a story from his uni days. it’s got nothing to do with the captain, or being gay, or self-acceptance, or anything like that- it’s just a standard tale of comedic but inventive problem solving. the captain sits himself down next to mike (to his right, avoiding mike’s gaze, and still staring away from button house), muttering that his legs are getting a bit tired. he sits there for a while, and mike just talks. sometimes he circles back to the gay thing, sometimes he just asks the captain questions, before remembering that he can’t actually hear any answer, but then he keeps asking anyway, thinking that cap might need to talk. he doesn’t at first, but slowly he offers up a word or two. and then a sentence, and then maybe more- mike will accidentally cut the captain off, or leave the silence to long, but the captain doesn’t mind (it’s a nice reminder that nothing he says will actually go on to have consequence). at one point, mike gets out his phone to show the captain photos of his mate daniel and daniel's husband, not just their wedding day but casual photos- couples drinks with him and alison, dinners at each other's places, the bookshop.

alison and the other ghosts have long gone, and the sun is just about to sink below the horizon by the time the captain stands himself back up with the traditional knee crack and grunt. he looks at mike and nods, giving him a simple thank you before turning to walk (not run) back to button house, head held slightly higher and looking more relaxed than he’s been all episode. the captain has still got a lot to figure out, but at least it’s a start.

[i love the dramatic ending but the implication is that alison has to go and fetch mike bc he has no ideas cap has left and is prepared to keep going lol- also by no means is cap suddenly going to ditch his characterisation and become a yas kween gay right away, i didn’t go into the aftermath bc this is alreayd fucking LONG but let me know if you want follow up????}

EDIT: i've rbed this with the follow up/part 2 attached!

EDIT 2, much later: switched out mike's reference to his 'younger brother' to a school friend, since the christmas special confirmed mike only has sisters and we're all about accuracy here

#bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #the captain #ben willbond #bbc ghosts captain #bbc ghosts headcanon #ghosts headcanon #lgbt #lgbtq #gay #mlm

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joezworld · 4 years

Text

Fools in Love (3/10)

Worst Thieves Ever

The next week passed in a blur of emotions and happiness for both engines.

Henry was astonished that he'd managed to miss all of the now-obvious signs that he was romantically attracted to Bear, and was now fully in the throes of "happy sickness", and genuinely felt better when Bear was nearby.

Bear, meanwhile, was on top of the world. Acknowledging that he was now actually in love meant that all of the pent-up emotions from the past decade were coming out all at once. He was downright chipper when he was alone, and when Henry was nearby, he was so absurdly upbeat that the other engines were wondering if The Fat Controller had bought another Hymek and swapped the numbers again!

“So,” Bear asked Henry as they sat in the yard between trains. “What do we do, now that we’re together?”

“I don’t know,” Henry said thoughtfully. “I know that humans go on things called ‘dates’, where they go to dinner and then the cinema, but I don’t think we can do that...”

“We certainly wouldn’t fit into the building.”

“And I don’t think we could eat dinner without bothering our crews.”

“Unless you want to pull a Thomas and crash through the restaurant wall.”

“Hah! We could always save that for the holidays.”

“Henry’s getting awful chummy with the Hymek, isn’t he?” James muttered suspiciously from the coaling stage.

“Goodness gracious me,” Duck said. “It’s almost like he’s known Bear for an extended period of time. What is it that happens when you spend a long time near somebody? I think you become friends with them.”

“You know what I mean. It’s like they’re different locomotives.”

“Perhaps their personalities contain more than one side. I hear that some engines can achieve that.”

“And what are you implying by that??”

“Your paint is dirty.”

“AAACK! Someone get a rag and some polish!”

46 040 smiled to herself as she watched the steam engines bicker. This was a funny little island, with so much more character than the Midlands.

Engines were nicer here, and they welcomed her as a friend on the first day she arrived - even if it had taken some time for their in-joke to be explained to her - she couldn’t believe that she’d rescued Spamcan’s rescuers. There was no in-fighting, no yard politics, just close-knit friends, even across class lines.

They also didn’t seem to give any mind to ‘how the railway should work’, as some of her classmates might say. As she backed down onto her train, she was acutely aware that the only engine newer than her was the laughing diesel-hydraulic in the yard. Everywhere else she looked, there was nothing but steam, steam, and more well-kept steam.

Modernization seems to have missed this island altogether. She thought as passengers bustled into the coaches. Even the rolling stock was antique - a bunch of ‘Big 4′ era corridor coaches, all nicely painted into a unified livery. On the mainland, the Mark 1s had displaced these old carriages from even maintenance trains, but Sodor was using them on top link services.

“Eurgh. Can you believe this, 40?” Oiled an unpleasant voice from alongside her.

She glared at the Class 56, annoyed by both his existence and his sudden appearance. From what she understood, the North Western Region often borrowed engines from other regions temporarily, which explained why she was still on the island and why the destable 56 was sullying this otherwise pleasant station. “What can I believe, 031?”

“This!” The diesel sniffed dismissively as 040 rolled her eyes. He had evidently decided that anything new to him was bad - a problem considering that he was barely two months old. “All of this outdated junk! I feel like I’ve been driven into a black-and-white film! Steam engines here, teak coaches there! I don’t think these vans are even fitted with brakes!” He looked back at his train - a line of surly looking vans glared back, clearly insulted. The brakevan on the rear seemed to be resigned to a difficult run before the train left the station. “I am immeasurably pleased that this is my last train on this island.”

“I think it’s charming.” 040 said quietly.

“You would.” 031′s tone was cold.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’d fit in here - you’re non-standard, just like they are.”

040 wanted to say something that would turn the air as blue as her paintwork, but before she could do so, a whistle blew, and 031′s driver began to drive the rude engine out of the station. “I don’t believe we shall meet again - your class’ time is coming sooner than you think.” 031 said with startling levels of nonchalance as he rumbled out of the station, his vans angrily trailing behind him.

“And good riddance to you too, you slag sucking shitstain.” 040 muttered to herself as the train rattled out of sight.

Shortly, her own guard blew his whistle, and she set off with the midday express.

Crovan's Gate Works - That night

"I didn’t think we'd be back here so soon." Henry whispered to Bear as they rolled into the Works yard.

"I didn’t either." Bear said, trying to disturb the rest of their train.

It was well past midnight, and both breakdown cranes, the support coach, and the battered Class 46 had nodded off on the slow ride from the accident site.

"Is she all right?" Henry asked quietly. He was leading the train, and couldn’t see.

"As well as she can be." Considering that the lightweight parcel vans had been reduced to so much kindling by the accident, it was amazing that the 46 was as uninjured as she was - just a few torn and warped panels, some gravel abrasions, and a broken nose.

If Bear was being honest, he thought that she'd gotten off better than the 56, who was physically intact, but had been subjected to one of the longest and angriest dressing-downs that The Fat Controller had ever given.

The poor engine had looked utterly shell-shocked as he took what remained of his train on to Barrow.

The two were silent as they pushed the sleeping 46 into the works proper, and then backed the breakdown train into its siding. Their crews were dead on their feet after eight hours plus overtime, and shuffled off to the works' bunkhouse for some well needed rest.

Henry and Bear watched them leave, not even remotely tired. Since their mutual revelation last week, neither engine had been able to sleep for very long, their minds spinning with thoughts of each other.

Even after a week, they had run out of all possible conversation, but could still spend hours without a word between them.

"D'ya think that this counts as a date?" Bear said after many minutes of comfortable silence.

"I think an argument could be made." Henry said thoughtfully. "We did something together, but from what I understand, usually there's supposed to be 'romance', and 'courting', not smashed vans and breakdown cranes. Also, I assume that, on a date, we should be enjoying ourselves and not wondering if someone is hurt."

Bear considered that for a long moment. It had been a pretty terrible date, considering they were clearing up a train crash. "Do you want me to court you?"

"I think that's supposed to happen before you fall in love, and I already have."

"Oh. Then what do we do if we're already..."

"Madly in love with each other?"

"Yes."

"I don't know."

"Well," Bear said finally. "Then we'll have to figure that out together."

------

Three Days Later

Henry didn’t see the 46 after he and Bear left in the morning - the massive service disruption caused by the accident meant that he spent most of the weekend shuttling ballast wagons back and forth between Cronk and Arlesburgh, as well as soothing Gordon’s temper over having to ‘dilly-dally in work zones all day’.

Fortunately, there wasn’t a great deal of damage on the main line, and after three days of frantic work, the maintenance of way crews had put everything back to normal. Henry was the first train through the rebuilt section with a massively-delayed Flying Kipper, and was surprised at how much damage the men had managed to reverse - the only remaining signs of the accident was the torn up lineside vegetation.

Arriving at Barrow, he found the yard in disarray - three days worth of goods trains were clogging the small yard, and the diesel shunter was so overworked that he forgot to be rude to Henry as he took away the fish vans.

The yard was so crowded that Henry couldn’t even get into the sheds to rest before his next train, and was forced to sit in the middle of the yard while his crew went for their tea break.

He wanted to get some rest as well, but the shunter was moving around the yard at such a rate that it was impossible to get more than a few minutes of rest before the Class 03 scuttled by with more vans.

After one large rake of hoppers were shoved out of the way, another engine became visible a few roads over - it was the 46.

Henry was surprised to see her - there hadn’t been enough time to fix any of her panels in the last three days, and indeed, she was just as battered and bruised as she was when he and Bear left her in the works. The only indication that anyone had done anything at all to her was the existence of a splint that had been taped over her broken nose to re-set it.

More worryingly, she looked almost haunted. Her eyes were wide, with a thousand yard stare, and she was mumbling something to herself over and over again.

“they don’t want me they don’t want me they don’t want me they don’t want me”

Henry wanted to ask her what was wrong, but before he could, a shout arose from deeper into the yard. The shunter had split a switch with some wagons and was now trapped in a dead-end siding. Men began rushing out with tools to re-rail the cars, but it was obvious that it would take some time. The yard master, seeing this incident, didn’t go over to the shunter, but instead made a beeline for Henry, his crew trailing behind.

“If he’s done for, then we need someone to organize this mess!” The man called, clearly not giving Henry a choice in the matter. “And you’re it!”

---

After 35 minutes of careful shunting, Henry was on his final shunting move before he could enter the sheds and rest, while the men seemed to be turning the corner on freeing the 03.

“Right, then there’s this Peak!” Called the yardmaster, who was riding on Henry’s footplate with a sheet of train orders in his hand. “It’s the 0Z59 for tonight, just put it somewhere out of the way.”

He scanned the yard. “Track 33 looks clear. let’s leave it there and be done.”

“Zero-Zed?” Henry asked. “You’re not going to move her, are you?” A zero headcode was intended for light engine moves, while a Z prefix meant that the train was to be handled specially by the dispatcher. The 46 was battered enough to require special treatment, but her unrepaired condition meant that she should not be moving under her own power.

“Nah, they’re gonna send an engine for ‘er later,” The yardmaster replied. “She’s going right to Derby.”

Henry sighed as he buffered up to the still-catatonic diesel. Sometimes life was easier if you didn’t ask questions.

“they don’t want me they don’t want me they don’t want me they don’t want me” The diesel said, her voice thick with horror. Her eyes looked at Henry’s face but saw nothing. It was obvious that she was off in her own little nightmarish world.

Then again, Henry had never had an “easy” life.

“What are they going to do to her at Derby?” He asked slowly, afraid of the answer he’d be given.

After flipping through his papers, the yard master gave a one word answer: “Scrap”

Henry stared morosely at the 46. She didn’t deserve this at all.

It took only a few minutes to move the 46 to an isolated siding near the sheds. As his driver uncoupled her from him, the 46 abruptly jerked out of her trance. She looked at Henry and his driver, her eyes suddenly clear and full of understanding.

“Save me. Please.” She said quietly. “They’re going to kill me.”

Henry was struck dumb by her request. The 46 had put more emotion in one sentence than some locomotives did in their entire lives. He wasn’t the quickest of thinkers to begin with, and now he had no idea of what to even say, let alone how he could help.

Fortunately, Sean - his driver - was much faster on the uptake. “Do you still work?” He asked her conspiratorially.

Both engines looked down at him. “Yes.” The 46 said after a moment. “They tested my motor and it works fine but they still said I wasn’t good enough to fix and oh god I’m going to die...” She trailed off in horror.

Sean turned an interesting shade of pale as he set the diesel’s handbrake. “We’ll do something. Just you wait.”

With that, he clambered back into Henry’s cab and set off for the sheds.

“We have to do something and I have no idea how we’re going to do it.” He said as soon as they were out of earshot of the diesel.

So concerned was Henry that he barely noticed Bear sitting in the shed as he pulled in.

“Is everything all right?” Bear asked as he saw the look on Henry’s face.

“They’re going to kill that 46.” Henry said without prompting. “She’s barely damaged and they’re going to take her to Derby and cut her up.”

“Right.” said Bear, looking like he just took a sack of bricks to the face. “Let’s figure out how we’re going to fix that.”

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

The harried yardmaster burst into the sheds. “Alright, up you get! The Hymek’s failed and we need you to drag his sorry carcass to the works!”

Henry, who had been pretending to be sleeping, set off at once.

Entering the yard proper, he found Bear at the head end of a train of cement tankers.

"Ah! Henry!" Bear called out in the least convincing voice anyone had ever heard. "As you can see, my complicated and unreliable gearbox has failed, rendering me immobile. Can you please pull me to the works?"

"Of course Bear!" Henry said in the same way that one would discuss the weather. "I will tow you to the works so they can fix your complicated and unreliable gearbox!"

The yardmaster watched in confusion as Henry backed down onto Bear's train. It was obvious that they were planning something, but what? This was about on par for a steam engine's level of deception, but diesels were usually craftier than this.

After a few minutes, Henry set off - or rather, he didn’t.

As he set off, his wheels slipped suddenly, his driver immediately closed the regulator, and both engines disappeared into a cloud of steam as Henry wheeshed in faux pain.

"Oh dear! He called from within the cloud. "I seem to have suffered a mechanical malfunction of some kind! Whatever will I do?"

"Who gives a toss about you!" Wailed the Class 03. "What about my work? You just blocked off half the yard!"

It was true - Bear had failed just before the switch to the main line, and when Henry had backed down onto him, he had completely covered the points. Now that he had failed as well, a large portion of the yard was inaccessible.

"I am terribly sorry." Henry didn't sound like he meant it. "Another engine will have to move us, as we cannot possibly move ourselves."

To his credit, the Class 03 tried, but with Henry and Bear's combined weight (and Henry holding the brakes on when nobody was looking), his little wheels just slipped on the tracks. "Super Rescue my buffers!" He scowled as the yard master started pulling his hair out. The yard was in a worse state than before, and there were no other engines that could reach the failed train.

Unless...

"Does that 46 work? The man yelled at his underlings, in the process missing the elated looks that flashed across Henry and Bear's faces.

"I think so!" Said one of the men. "They drove it here last night."

"Right!" He said with no small amount of relief. "Get that thing going - it'll be Crovan's problem and they can deal with it."

It took a few minutes for a crew to be found and for the 46 to be started, but soon enough she was being backed down onto the increasingly long train.

Henry and his crew watched with anticipation. Instead of damping his fire, Tim the fireman had been shoveling more and more coal into Henry’s firebox, while Sean had been nonchalantly walking around both engines and putting large amounts of sand under each driving wheel. As 46 040 was backed down onto the train, he gave a signal to Bear and his crew before climbing back into Henry’s cab.

The yard crew quickly coupled 040 to Henry, and waved to the signalman, who lined the points and dropped the signal arm.

The arm dropped. Henry and Bear's eyes followed it as it fell into the 'clear' position.

"Now!" Henry bellowed, and Bedlam ensued.

Sean hauled back on Henry’s whistle cord while shoving the throttle into the wide open position, sending sparks into the air as Henry’s wheels spun on the rails for a moment.

At Henry’s whistle, Bear's driver shoved the diesel's throttle to its furthest stop.

Black smoke belched out of both engines as they surged ahead. Henry slammed into the back of 040, shoving her along as his wheels found purchase on the sand covered rails.

Bear, his engine roaring, lurched ahead as he followed Henry, taking the tankers with him. The cement wagons yelled as the slack in their couplings was let out all at once, banging against each other as they were yanked into motion. A ripple of shock whipped all the way down the train, and the coupling in the last tanker was almost ripped out of its buffer beam from the violent departure.

040's crew were shoved forward in their seats by the sudden impact. Her driver had the throttle lever in his hand, and as he flew forward against the control column, he inadvertently shoved her throttle ahead to its furthest stop. The diesel shrieked in surprise as her motor revved to full power and she surged ahead with the rest of the train. 040 was a powerful express diesel, and she quickly began to pull the rest of the train along behind her as her engine reached its highest power setting.

"Go go go!" Henry yelled as the train accelerated away.

The yardmaster and the Class 03 watched in shock as the train thundered out of the yard. In just moments, it had cleared the yard boundary, and in just a few moments more, the last cement tanker was rattling over the lift bridge and onto Sudrian metals.

"What was that?!" The man said as Henry's triumphant whistle faded into the distance.

"More Sodor shite, I'd imagine." Said the little diesel as he rolled back into the yard - as much as he wanted to, he didn’t have time to speculate on what went on in the smokeboxes of those nutcases. "They're always up to some bollocks or another."

-----------

Henry and Bear yelled in triumph as they raced though Vicarstown and into Sodor proper.

"We did it!" Bear shouted.

"We did!" Henry chimed in. "You see that, 46?" He called up to 040. "That’s Sodor! You're safe!"

040 was astonished to the point of tears. "Thank you!" She said, her voice choked with emotion.

--------

Crovan’s Gate

Charles Hatt stared at the trio of unapologetic engines in front of him, unsure of whether he should be proud or upset.

“If I told you three that you damaged several of those cement tankers, the yard switches in Barrow, and exceeded the legal speed limit for a train of that configuration, would you be sorry in the slightest?”

“No sir / I’d do it again / Not at all” came the responses from Henry, Bear, and 040.

The Fat Controller hung his head in his hands. They didn’t even have the good graces to look sorry. The Peak was beaming from buffer to buffer, Bear looked sheepish but unconcerned, and Henry looked positively defiant.

“And you did this...?” He trailed off.

“Because otherwise they were going to kill her.” Henry said with a surprising undercurrent of steel to his voice.

“Yes. That...” Charles said again. “They truly told you that you were to be cut up?” He asked 040, slowly.

“Yes sir.”

“They did sir. There were train orders for it.” Bear said quickly. “She was supposed to be the 0Z59.”

“I see...” He turned to the 46 directly. “Who told you this?”

“Mister Stevens. He came down from the Midlands region to inspect me.”

“I see...” Charles mulled this over. He was vaguely aware of the nasty rumours surrounding the supposed railwaymen that the Midland Region was now employing, and this 'Mister Stevens' seemed like he fit the bill perfectly. “And you two did this... to help out your fellow engine?”

“Yes sir” Henry and Bear said in unison.

One hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

On one hand, these two had just damaged a significant amount of railway property and stolen an engine from a different region.

On the other... he did have a motive power shortage, and 46 040 was a class 4 - exactly what he needed.

And she clearly wasn’t needed by her region any more.

And stealing engines from the scrap heap was practically a Sodor tradition by now.

And he had acquired Bear in an almost equally brazen manner.

Sir Charles Topham Hatt II was many things, but a hypocrite was not one of them. “I must make a phone call. Talk amongst yourselves.”

The engines watched as he retreated to the foreman’s office. The phone was mounted on the outer wall, and his end of the conversation was very audible.

“This is Hatt, get me the London Midland Region please.”

“Yes, can you please inform Director Macready that Charles Hatt needs to speak with him regar- oh hello Lachlan.”

“Why yes, this is about 46 040.”

“I will have you know that we did not ‘brazenly make off with your property.’”

“To begin with, she was needed because the engines pulling the train ha- yes I understand that they didn’t actually fail, but-”

“Now there’s no need for that tone of voice-”

“Lachlan - Lachlan - Damnit Lachlan! That engine has only minor damage to it! You -”

“You clearly do not need it if - Spares? Lachlan, you just said that they were ‘going to the chop soon enough’, what could you possibly need spares for?”

“Now that’s just inappropriate.”

Whatever was said next was obviously deeply impolite, as the Fat Controller lost all patience with the Director of the Midland Region. “Now you listen here you limp-wristed disgrace of a Scotsman. That locomotive is mine now and will be forever more, you understand? If you ever try to come down from the ivory tower that has lodged itself in your rear end and do something about it, I will personally beat you to death with an Adze! Am I understood!”

After a brief silence, he spoke again. “I expect the transfer to be sent over at once. If they aren’t, I will forge your signature myself and I won’t stop with just those papers. Goodbye Lachlan.”

With that he hung up the phone and turned around to face the trio, who could barely contain themselves, and most of the works’ staff, who were surprised to see their controller use such harsh language.

“Don’t just stand there!” He said after a long moment. “Get to work! We have a new engine to repair!”

The noise from the locomotives was deafening.

#ttte #sodor shenangians #fic #headcanon #sodor #ttte henry #ttte bear #oc: Delta #ttte fat controller #literally half of sodor has been stolen from somewhere else #anyone who turns up in barrow yard and looks sad basically gets shanghaied #ttte duck #ttte james #fools in love

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full-of-roman-angst-trash · 4 years

Text

A Prince’s Room Part 2

(I finally got past my writer’s block and finished part 2! Also I got some inspiration for this chapter from an amazing anon from this ask. So yeah, sorry this took so long to make, writing is hard)

TW: Unsympathetic Sides (Except for Roman), Self-Doubt, Cursing, Arguing, Injuries, Mention of starving once self and not sleeping, Mention of Manipulation, Quilt tripping, Blaming, Caps, Hurt no Comfort, Weapons, If I missed any, pleased tell me and I will add it.

Pairings: None

Word Count: 2384

~~~~~~~~

A few months have now passed since the awful accident. Roman was now in his room. He hasn’t eaten in about 4 weeks. He has kept hydrated and he occasionally slept once in a while. Well, more like he would wait until his body gave out and forced him to sleep. While the sides didn’t need to physically take care of themselves as normal people do, they can choose to be affected by things like starvation and sleep deprivation. And, Roman chose to let it affect it.

He considered this his punishment. His punishment for being so stupid. He had one reason to live. One reason to continue fighting despite how much it hurt him. To make his friends happy. To please them. And he failed. He failed so badly. All those days of taking notes, of observing their friends closely, of forcing himself to change. All of that, for nothing. All the struggles and self-inflicted punishments for participating in what he labeled a bad habit, just for him to mess it all up. Just for him to make the dumbest mistake that will make all his work for nothing. He couldn’t stop thinking of where he went wrong. Was it letting himself lose track of time on the day of the confrontation? Was it leaving the chart in such an obvious place? Was it naming the chart “Duties”? Was it making the chart in the first place? He couldn’t decide. All he knew was that he lost the war. He had prided himself on winning thousands of battles. But in the end, he let himself lose the war. He lost by his own hands. And now all he had left was nothing more than toxic thoughts and a torn-up room.

He knew that he couldn’t die, at least not from something like starvation, so he just sat there suffering. He gave up on giving Thomas ideas. He didn’t think it was worth staying up all night or constantly fighting writer’s block. He didn’t think it was worth sitting through the harsh criticisms of the others. It just wasn’t worth it. Nothing was. Not anymore.

The others knew about Roman’s absence, they just didn’t care. In fact, they enjoyed it. They were happy that they no longer had to deal with a fake friend. On top of that, they were glad he didn’t have to deal with his dramatics. They no longer had to deal with his excessive talking that many times was too loud. They didn’t have to deal with him constantly talking about Disney or another interest for hours non-stop. They didn’t have to deal with his nonsense stories that often derailed and became off-topic. They didn’t have to deal with his loud singing at random times of the day. They didn’t have to deal with him constantly accidentally bumping into them every time he would dance around the living room. They didn’t have to deal with him. It was a breath of relief for them.

What they did care about though, was his lack of work. They cared that Thomas had been in a creative block for months. They cared that he wasn’t working on scripts for the next video. They cared that he wasn’t going out to auditions. They cared that they had no way to make money.

And so soon, they got fed up with it. They were tired of not being able to make money from their main source of income. They were tired of Thomas just sitting around and wasting time. They were tired of Roman just being selfish, but none of them wanted to talk to him.

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

“So, what are we going to do now?” Logan looks at the others.

They all decided to gather in the living room to hopefully construct a plan of action.

Virgil rolls his eyes in annoyance, “I don’t care but whatever it is, I am not going to talk to that bastard.”

“Kiddo, language,” Patton mumbles.

The anxious side just rolls his eyes in response.

“Can you all focus?! We need to figure this out! Thomas can’t continue neglecting his job!” Logan says, starting to get frustrated with the others.

“Wow, thanks for the information Logan,” Janus starts sarcastically, “It’s not like we didn’t already know that.”

The logical side turns to the snake-like side, “Shut up Janus. If you already know this then how about you help me find a solution!”

Now Janus starts getting mad, “Isn’t that supposed to be your job! You’re the logical one!”

“Enough!” Patton intervenes, “This isn’t getting us anywhere!”

Remus laughs, finding the others bickering quite entertaining.

“What are you laughing about?” The moral side asks pointedly.

The intrusive side shrugs, “I just think it’s funny when you guys argue.”

That’s when a full fight breaks out. Everyone yelling at each other and insulting one another. This happened quite often nowadays. Ever since the accident tensions have been very high, often overspilling into massive arguments. They didn't want to argue. They didn't like to constantly sit in a room fueled by tension. They didn’t like carefully picking out what to say. Walking on eggshells so thin that the smallest amount of added weight made that sea of eggshells crumble in seconds.

In the end, though, it never mattered. No matter how careful they were. How much they didn’t want to argue and fight. Or how much they wanted the tension gone. It didn't matter. Because in the end, all their efforts were for nothing. The sea of eggshells was always broken. The tension always built up to a suffocating extent. And it was frustrating for them. So, they took out that frustration on each other.

About half an hour later of them just arguing, Patton decided it was enough.

"EVERYONE SHUT UP! WE CAN'T CONTINUE DOING THIS! WE NEED TO FIND A SOLUTION TO OUR PROBLEM AND THIS IS GETTING US NOWHERE!"

Everyone went quiet and just stared at Patton for a bit.

Eventually, Logan spoke up, "You're right. We should all go to confront Roman and convince him to stop being unreasonable."

It takes a bit of convincing but eventually, everyone agrees to the plan. So, they start making their way over to Roman’s room.

Once they get to Roman’s room, Virgil is the one to begrudgingly knock on the door. Minutes pass and there’s no answer making all of them frustrated. So, this time Remus knocks on the door, much harsher and louder.

There’s still no answer.

So, in an act of frustration and anger, Remus breaks the door down. The second he does a terrified scream fills the room, startling all of them. When they take in the scenery, they all feel their hearts sink.

The room itself was a mess. All the posters and papers were ripped off the walls and laying on the floor, crumpled and torn to bits. The actual paint on the walls was scratched off, nail markings and dried blood in its place. Makeup and art supplies littered the floor, most of it was no longer usable. Medals and prizes were either broken or accompanying the rest of the mess on the floor.

The most heartbreaking part about the situation in front of them though was the small trembling figure in the corner.

Roman looked pale and sickly. He was significantly skinnier than the last time the others had seen him. He was shaking so much, it looked like the smallest touch would shatter him. His eyes had deep bags underneaths his eyes, once that easily beat Virgil’s. It was upsetting, to say the least.

They slowly begin to make their way over, noting how the sickly side didn't react at all. They stop a few feet in front of him.

"R-Roman….?" Patton calls him quietly.

He doesn't respond. Not even move, well aside from his shaking.

"R-Robro pl-please…." Remus tries, his voice deep with regret and uncertainty.

No response from the broken side.

Logan decides to move closer and place a hand on the other side's shoulder gently, immediately noticing how cold he was. Before he can say anything, Roman slaps his hand away and tries to move further into the corner, whimpering when he realized he couldn't.

Logan steps away, startled by Roman’s actions. It was now Janus's turn to try anything. He goes over and kneels in front of the creative side.

He speaks softly, "Roman, can you hear me….?"

Roman hugs his knees and buries his face in them, going back to not moving or responding.

Virgil groans quietly and steps forward, "Come on Princey. This isn’t funny."

"Virgil is right," Logan says, "This is impractical and a waste of time. Thomas needs you to get back to work. Stop acting like a child and letting all these things affect you. You're not human, you can't die."

"I hate to agree with them kiddo," Patton speaks up, "But, they're right. You can't continue doing this."

Suddenly Roman stands up, ignoring the dizziness it brought him. His legs were shaking so much that it seemed like his knees would just give out underneath him. Yet, he stood strong, his anger very visible.

“Get the fuck out of my room! All of you FUCK OFF!”

Patton quickly reacts, “Roman! Language! We’re here to help you and you’re being ungrateful! We’re trying to fix your mistakes!”

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE!” Patton flinches and hides behind the others.

Everyone else is completely speechless.

“YOU’RE NOT HERE TO HELP ME! YOU’RE HERE TO QUILT TRIP ME INTO THINKING THAT I’M IN THE WRONG AND THAT I’M THE CAUSE OF ALL THIS! GUESS WHAT? I WON’T FALL FOR YOUR SHIT ANYMORE!”

Remus manages to find his voice, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! IF YOU HADN’T TREATED US LIKE SOME SORT OF TASKS NONE OF THIS WOULD BE HAPPENING!”

Roman turns to Remus, summoning his sword and nearly slashing his twin with it, however, Remus was able to block it with his morning star in time.

“I DIDN’T TREAT YOU GUYS LIKE TASKS! IF YOU HAD ALL JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME SPEAK ON THAT FUCKING DAY YOU WOULD HAVE KNOWN WHAT THE GRAPH WAS ACTUALLY FOR!”

“Enough!” Janus says in a harsh and serious tone, mad that Roman tried to hurt Remus.

Logan sighs, “Roman, what was the graph for?”

Roman grits his teeth and puts his sword away when he sees Janus glaring at him.

“The graph was to try and keep you guys happy! It had lists of what you guys liked and made you happy so that I could please you all and make sure I didn’t FUCK UP OUR FRIENDSHIP! BECAUSE GUESS WHAT?! YOU ALL WERE THE ONE THING THAT GAVE ME A REASON TO CONTINUE DOING MY JOB AND LIVING! YOU GUYS WERE THE REASON I STILL CONSIDERED IT WORTH IT TO GET UP EVERY MORNING! WAS THE NAME OF THE GRAPH BAD? YES! I REGRET NAMING IT THAT BUT WHEN I CAME UP WITH IT I COULDN’T THINK OF A BETTER NAME BECAUSE OF THE HORRIBLE CREATOR’S BLOCK I HAD!” Hot angry tears flow down Roman’s face as he takes harsh, semi-short breaths.

Every other side suddenly freezes. Remus lowers his morning star. Janus’s glare vanishes. Virgil, who was standing in front of Patton in a defensive position, dropped his guard. Patton’s face goes pale and ghostly. Logan bites his tongue a bit and tenses slightly.

The other sides don’t dare to say anything and instead just watch Roman, who is trying to desperately wipe his tears away and calm down to no avail.

“R-RoRo….” Remus decides to try and fix his mistake.

“Don’t.” Roman quickly shoots down any sort of apology they try and give him.

“R-Roman please….” Virgil shakily speaks, on the verge of an anxiety attack.

“Leave,” Roman looks away from them, fighting the urge to forgive them and fall into their abuse again.

Janus takes a deep breath, “Please let us talk-”

This makes Roman’s blood boil all over again, “OH DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT!” His tears start again, “Not after everything I’ve been through because YOU all REFUSED to let ME talk!”

They go quiet again, watching the once prince-like side with pity.

“You don’t get to cast me aside and make my life a living hell, then once you learn the truth try and to apologize to make yourselves feel better! I REFUSE TO FALL FOR YOUR FUCKING GAMES AGAIN! Just SECONDS ago you were all dismissing my feelings just to get me to work and make you guys money again! I’m DONE! SO. GET. OUT. OF. MY. ROOM!”

They don’t dare to try and argue again. They all start walking out of the room. Roman keeps his eyes to the floor, once again trying to stop his tears with little success.

Then just before he hears his door close, he hears words that add salt to his thousands of wounds.

“I’m sorry.”

From a voice, he quickly identified, Patton…

Roman punches the wall in rage, not caring or even flinching when the wall breaks and his knuckles bleed.

He falls to the floor, hugging himself tightly as he sobbed. All the pain he felt from that unfortunate day that spiraled everything out of proportion, now back a million times worse. As well as the pain of having to confront the very people he once loved and fighting the urge to hug them and just forgiven them for the sake of being loved again.

The guilt-filled sides all went back to their individual rooms and, much like Roman, broke down. Their tears filled with regret and self-hate.

But, even if Roman could hear their cries from his room or as he passed their rooms to get food, he didn’t feel bad. They only cared after he snapped at them. They never tried and asked for his side of his story during the time he was locked in his room. He didn’t feel bad for them because he knew they didn’t really care about him. Instead, they cared about their own emotions and conscience.

So as he walked back to his room after getting some snacks, once again passing through the loud sobs, he pledges to never let them win again by blindly trusting them and giving them his friendship.

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years

Text

A Quick Reunion

I actually wrote this before Episode 5 of WandaVision came out. 😂

It was his usual round of dimensional hopping. He even brought Athena along. But the dimension he stopped in was the same time and place as when he left but...it was different. New York was how Tony described the snap to have been like and after subtly questioning nearby passerbys, he quickly discovered what was different.

Thanos had won.

The snap had been reversed but it was clear that the titan had continued with his...genocide. Anyone brave enough to walk around on the much quieter streets still had fear in their eyes. As if they were waiting for the mad titan to come around the corner and decide they were done living their life. If there even was such a thing. Stephen could tell this dimension didn't have long despite Thanos' attempt to save all living creatures from the same fate his people succumbed to.

He stopped here though because something compelled him to. He wasn't sure what it was yet, but he definitely wasn't going to bother trying to save it. There wasn't anything he could do for it. He simply waited. Waited for whatever it was to reveal itself so he could do what he needed to do and move on.

Then he sensed it. It was coming fast and if he was correct, it would go right by the alleyway he was standing by in. So on instinct, he threw a hand out and caught the shirt of whatever sped by him, and his eyes widened. He only ever had that instinct with Thomas but when he looked to see what he caught, he saw blue eyes looking at him in bewilderment.

"How did you do that?" The thick Sokovian accent hung in the air and Stephen knew exactly who he had at his fingertips.

"You...where's Wanda?" Stephen asks and the man's face twists in emotional pain.

"She is dead. She died a long time ago. How do you know about her?"

This is why he was compelled to stay here. Pietro was alive and well in a dying dimension and he could take this opportunity to reunite Wanda with her brother with little to no consequences. They were still the same age from a quick glance at the man and he clearly lost Wanda like she had lost him in their original dimension…

"What if I told you I could take you to her?" Stephen says as he carefully releases Pietro.

"Why should I believe you?" The Sokovian looks at him skeptically, and the sorcerer didn't blame him.

"You don't have to, I suppose. My name is Stephen. Doctor Stephen Stark-Strange. I'm the Sorcerer Supreme and it is my duty to protect reality...in my dimension, your sister is alive and well, but…"

"...I'm dead?" Pietro finishes and Stephen nods. "Normally I wouldn't, but it can't be much worse than this."

Stephen sighs with relief and smiles. "I assure you, things are much better."

Stephen told him everything. From when he died in their original dimension to their victory against Thanos, and their current living situation. He didn't want Pietro to be thrown into the chaos of the tower without some kind of warning. Of course there would be the reunion between the twins but that was to be expected. By the time, he was done, Pietro looked antsy at the possibility of seeing his sister again and Stephen had to keep himself from laughing.

"Okay...I will go on one condition." Pietro says.

"What would that condition be?"

"Tell me how you caught me so easily."

Stephen chuckles. "I have a son that's a lot like you. It's instinct at this point." He pats Athena's head. "He is a friend."

"Wait...didn't you say there's a tiger too?"

"We have a zoo." Stephen rolls his eyes. "The animals just need to be introduced to you. Do you have anything here you want to get?" When Pietro shakes his head, Stephen opens a gateway. "Are you ready?"

"No. Not really."

Pietro takes a deep breath and it leaves him with a woosh before he steps forward and through the portal Stephen had made. The sorcerer and wolf followed immediately after and the gateway closed behind them as the man looked around the family floor. It was quiet, but Stephen knew that was short lived and any moment now, someone would break the silence. For now, Stephen let Pietro take everything in at his own pace.

The first thing he did after looking at Stephen for permission was raid the fridge. He couldn't blame him. Knowing Thanos, food was probably rationed and scarce so Stephen let the man eat whatever he wanted. Pietro ate like a starving man and it was half true. Only when he slowed down did he walk out to the balcony and take New York in.

"It's alive." Pietro says softly when Stephen joins him.

"Just give it a few minutes and it will be more alive than you ever could imagine." The sorcerer chuckles.

"Where is my sister?"

"I'll have her come up soon. I just figured you would want a few minutes to adjust to the change first."

Wishful thinking. The moment the last word left Stephen's mouth, William popped up next to him holding Valerie. Pietro jumped at his sudden appearance and Valerie immediately reached out for Stephen who took her without hesitation.

"You're back." William says. "That was fast."

"Yes, well, for good reason. Did you two go on your own adventure?"

"We went to Japan to look at the cherry trees. Val brought back a handful of blossoms." William says with a smile and then looks at the man standing by Stephen. "Who's he?" He asks quietly.

"Ah. Would you bring Wanda up here please?"

"Umm...sure."

With that, William teleports away while Valerie looks at Pietro nervously. Stephen quickly soothed her and made sure to tell her that he was safe and a friend, and she visibly relaxed a little bit. She would warm up to him on her own time.

"You said Stark earlier...that you are married to him." Pietro says and Stephen nods. "Where is he?"

"Probably down in the lab with our youngest and risking her hearing."

"How many children do you have?" The man asks curiously.

"Seven. Plus an honorary one. We'll explain later but you'll meet everyone eventually." Stephen says.

"Who will meet who?"

Both Stephen and Pietro look over and find Spiderman sticking to a window near the balcony. Peter crawls over until he gets to the balcony and flips onto it as his mask falls back.

"Who's this?" The teen asks.

"You'll find out soon enough."

"Do all of your kids have powers?" Pietro asks, a little perplexed.

"No. Our oldest fights like Tony. Peter and the twins have powers, and so does my oldest daughter and honorary daughter. Our two youngest seem to be normal." Stephen answers.

"Huh…"

Stephen leads Pietro back inside just as the elevator opens and Wanda steps off with Vision and William.

"Stephen? William said you asked for me." She calls as she rounds the corner.

The moment she steps into view, both she and Pietro freeze and look at each other. Silence filled the air as they stared at each other and then Wanda finally looked at Stephen and glared.

"This is not funny. I never thought you of all people would go this far!" She says dangerously and Stephen holds up a hand to placate her.

"He is not an illusion. He's very real. I...found him while dimension hopping."

Wanda takes a shuddering breath and moves closer to Pietro and the twins regard the other for what seemed like forever. Just when Stephen started to doubt his decision, Wanda threw her arms around her brother and cried. Pietro immediately returned the embrace and they spoke to each other in Sokovian until Wanda finally moved away to cup his cheeks.

"It is you." She smiles through the remains of unshed tears. "I missed you so much." She then looks at Stephen and hugs him tightly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I know it's not the same but--"

"You've given me another chance with my brother. It's more than I could have ever asked for."

Stephen smiles softly. "Spend time with him. Show him around the tower, but be back by dinner time."

"Yes, Mom." Wanda laughs and kisses his cheek before grabbing Pietro's hand and dragging him toward the elevator.

"Did you just call him Mom?"

"I'll explain." Wanda says as she and her brother leave with Vision and the elevator closes again.

Stephen was left with Peter, William, and Valerie and the two boys looked at him in surprise.

"Wait…that was Pietro?" Peter asks, pointing in the direction said man had left in.

"Yes. I found him in a dying dimension and saw it as a rare opportunity." Stephen nods. "He'll likely stay on their floor."

"He kind of reminds me of Thomas." William says.

"I'm not surprised. They are a lot alike. Very similar powers." Stephen puts Valerie down and she wanders into the living room to play with Levi and Athena. "Would you mind helping with dinner?"

"Okay." The younger teen nods and Peter points to the elevator again.

"I think I'll go get Bucky...or Cassie. You know... someone who can cook."

Stephen chuckles as Peter dashes off while his suit recedes into his bracelet, and the sorcerer and William head into the kitchen to start dinner. They would be making a lot, so if Peter managed to wrangle Bucky and Cassie into helping, it would go by easier and faster. They started with pulling out ingredients and prepping, and both Bucky and Cassie fortunately joined them a little later. Diana came with Cassie, but she went to join her sister in the living room and Stephen had the suspicion that there may be another tea party.

"Okay...I see the usual people but Friday said we had a guest." Tony says as he comes around the corner, holding Lucy in one of his arms.

"More like another permanent resident." Stephen says.

"Did you adopt another kid?"

Stephen huffs. "Not this time. I brought someone back from the dead...in a way."

Tony looks at him skeptically. "Do I have a zombie in my tower?"

"Our tower. And no. Just someone from a dying alternate dimension." Stephen says as he hands some vegetables to Bucky.

"Who's the zombie?"

Stephen rolls his eyes. "Pietro."

Tony pauses. "As in...Red's twin brother?"

"The very same."

"... somehow I'm not surprised. I'm going to change Lulu's diaper."

"Better you than me."

Tony laughs and heads upstairs to face his daunting task while the people in the kitchen work on and finish dinner. It was sort of a ritual at this point. If someone new joined the team, a huge dinner was made and everyone went up to the family floor to eat and welcome the new member of their dysfunctional family. From the few stories Stephen had heard about Pietro, he would fit in just fine.

Tony changed Lucy and joined their other two girls in the living room until dinner was ready, and when it was, Stephen had Friday call everyone up to eat. Harley and Thomas had come home from wherever they had been (probably terrorizing the city) just before dinner and were helping set the food out. Team dinners were more like buffets so that everyone could serve themselves and find somewhere to sit which usually meant anywhere. The living room, the second floor pathway that served as a secondary dining area, the balcony...it got crowded when they had these dinners.

Everyone got upstairs except for Wanda and Pietro, but Vision said they were on their way up. Once Stephen announced there was another team member joining them, everyone looked at him skeptically (and even asked where the kid was, which Stephen ignored), but then the twins finally arrived at the penthouse and the original Avengers that had met Pietro froze. It lasted all of two seconds before they swarmed and hugged him, but thankfully the man didn't seem too overwhelmed. Either he remembered them from his dimension or Wanda had explained how close the Avengers were. Maybe both.

"I'll be sure to tell Clint so you can terrorise him next time he and the family are in town." Natasha says with an impish smile.

"Oh yeah. I miss him." Pietro laughs and Wanda points to the table full of food.

"New family members get the first plate." She says as she leads him over to the table.

Once they get their food, everyone eventually steps in to get their own before dispersion throughout the floor to eat. Laughter echoed through the floor over dinner and after, drinks were poured and games were played as per the usual tradition. Pietro was dragged into a game of Never Have I Ever, and Stephen knew he and Tony would soon join the game. Tony was already heading over, but Quill had pulled Stephen aside.

"Hey...will...will you take me with you one day when you go dimension hopping?" He asks quietly.

"Quill…" Stephen sighs. "I got lucky with Pietro. Your mother--"

"I know. I know...but I thought maybe I would get the chance to say goodbye to her properly?"

"Maybe. I can't promise anything." Stephen says softly and the celestial nods.

"That's okay...I appreciate it anyway."

"Why don't you go get a drink?"

"And have to drink way more than anybody else? Alright."

Quill huffs and walks away to join the drinking game and Stephen has the kids go up to their rooms for the night. William went into Harley's room, Cassie went into Peter's, and to Stephen's surprise, Thomas went into Diana's. Probably to watch a movie. Valerie and Lucy were already down for the night and the animals were content in their corner, so the adults could party without worry.

That was a lie.

Thor was already challenging him to a drinking contest with Asgardian ale.

Stephen sighs.

#mama bear au #stephen strange #supremefamily #tony stark #ironstrange

25 notes · View notes

graces-secret-tommys-love · 5 years

Text

Falling All Over Again

Title: Falling All Over Again

Pairing:Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 7900 (BIG GENUINE OOPS)

Warning: very slow burn smut

Summary: The Reader has known the Shelby’s nearly all her life. Like many she had a crush on Tommy. After a sweet moment many years ago she became almost speechless around him. Following a very embarrassing moment she finally found the courage to start to converse with him again.

A/N: I definitely got carried away with this one. The slow burn just kind of did it for me, and I hope it does for you too. Enjoy and I’d love your feedback!!!

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

“Shhhh Elena, you’ll get caught!”

“Ada, shut it! You’re the one who said it’s here!”

You kept an eye on the staircase, while Hannah was downstairs watching the front door.

“If none of you shut up, then everyone will hear!” Hannah hissed up the stairs.

Elena got it in her head that Thomas was hiding something of her brothers in his room and had set out to get it. Of course the rest of you girls thought she went mad, but you weren’t about to let her attempt a solo mission. The four of you had grown up together in town since you were children, so when one of you started something it became everyone's job to finish it.

Elena had older brothers always telling her she was too much of a child and didn’t know anything about the world, despite all of us being around twenty years old. She worked it out that if she pulled a stunt like this, then she wouldn’t be such a child anymore. The rest of you also worked out that she might lose her head trying to dig around in Thomas Shelby’s room, so you hoped by there being a group of you, there might be less bloodshed. In theory of course.

Hannah’s loud slam of the book on the table meant someone was coming. You held up a finger to the girls, telling them to be quiet, and kept your eyes open. Mens shoes were making their way to the bottom step and you whirled around towards the girls. As you tried to push up from your crouched position, your foot slipped backwards off the top step and you went crashing ass over tea kettle backwards down the stairs.

“Fuck! Shit! Damnit!”

A man had gotten nearly crushed in your fall. He was able to move just to the side fast enough that your tumbling body only grazed him and didn’t knock him down. It wasn’t the plan, but now Ada and Elena had plenty of time to get out of there.

“Y/N!” Hannah rushed to your side. “Are you okay!”

“Wha-yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. I think.” Sitting up slightly your head was throbbing in the back, and you could feel the bruises settling in already.

“Are you alright?” The man’s voice startled you. When you looked up, Thomas Shelby was crouching down next to you, helping you sit up. He kept his hand on the small of your back, and helped you straighten out your legs.

Before you could answer, Elena and Ada were practically in your lap screaming and panicking like your head had been snapped off.

“I’m fine! I’m fine! Fuck stop screaming!” Elena and Ada froze, but Thomas laughed a little. “And what’s so funny?” You snapped as you turned to him.

The second your eyes met his, you felt like someone sucker punched you. Of all people to get snippy with, hurt or not, he was the last person to do that too.

“Oh my god Tom- Mr. Shelby. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at yo-”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Please just call me Tommy. We practically grew up together for fucks sake. I just never heard you raise your voice like that before, let alone throw the word fuck out so easily. I forget you girls aren’t all seven and eight anymore.” He gave you a small smile, helped you to your feet, and then headed upstairs.

Now you were not only in pain, but absolutely mortified as well.

The girls got you in a chair, and near the fire to relax.

“You yelled at a Shelby!” Elena teased.

“She yells at me all the time,” Ada rolled her eyes.

“Then don’t be an ass!” you shot back. “And I didn’t mean to yell at him. You were both so fuckin’ loud though!” You grabbed each of their hands. “I didn’t mean to be harsh though. I was just scared.”

“So were we!” Hannah threw her arms around all of you. “You could have died!”

“Oh shut up Hannah,” Ada laughed. “She fell down the stairs. We’ve all done it. The real triumph of the day though was that she didn’t turn into an absolute mime in front of Tommy.”

All the girls started laughing and poking fun at you. Literally everyone in the world must have known you’d had your heart set on Thomas Shelby since you could remember.

-------

When you were all much younger, Thomas and Arthur would lookout for you since you were an only child. Being Ada’s close friend, they saw you as another little sister they were protecting. Thomas was different than Arthur. Some would doubt it possible, but he was very gentle with you. He was patient and would play along with the games you came up with with Ada. Arthur was more of the one to beat someone up if he caught them looking at you wrong. It was once the boys all got older and went to war that they all became the ones to beat someone up before they would sit down and listen to a silly child’s game.

When you were around 10, one of the boys on the street dared you to kiss Thomas. He said that if you didn’t ask Thomas to kiss you, then he would tell everyone that you never stopped wetting the bed and no one would ever like you. Of course this was the worst dare in the entire world because Thomas was around 15 or 16 at the time.

Finally, one night when you were leaving dinner with their family, Thomas said he would walk you home because he was going out for the night anyways. When you crossed the street you stopped and started to panic.

“Are you alright?” He had looked so concerned. “Love what is it?”

“I...can….uh…” He was so patient, waiting for you to come up with some sort of a coherent word. “Kiss me.”

Your eyes slammed shut and you wanted to die the second you let those words slip past your chattering lips. The silence was painful, and then you heard him take a few steps towards you. His breath was suddenly warm on your face.

“You want me to kiss you, love?” When you didn’t open your eyes or respond, he laughed to himself a little. “And why would you want me to kiss you?”

“Ian said he would tell everyone I pee the bed if I didn’t kiss you and then everyone would hate me and I am so sorry Thomas. I didn’t mean it. Just leave.” Your face softened, but your eyes never opened. Just a small tear ran down your face. It was the epitome of embarrassment.

You flinched when a rough thumb grazed your cheek. “Well now love, we know that’s not the truth. Ian’s probably the one to still pee the bed.” When you started to laugh, you could hear him laugh as well. “Now, lets see those eyes.”

Taking a shaky breath you opened your eyes. The two of you just stared at each other. Thomas straightened up a bit, and then looked around the street. No one was outside. He held out his hand, and you took it.

Taking off at a brisk walk, you followed him down the road. When you saw the destination, you started to pull back. But Thomas didn’t stop, he pulled you along the entire way.

The door flew open and of course Ian was the one to answer it.

“Uh, hello.”

Thomas pointed at you. “Did you tell this girl that you would tell the block she wet the bed if she didn’t kiss me? And don’t you lie.” Ian went white as a sheet.

“I, well..yeah.”

Thomas nodded, then turned to you. He took off his hat, picked you up just like a groom lifts his bride, gave you a nod, and then kissed you. Soft, quick, and extremely chaste, but it felt like so much more to you.

“Now, Ian, you leave her alone and tell everyone that she kissed Thomas Shelby. You hear me?”

Before Ian could shut the door Thomas turned around, carried you home, and was setting you down on your doorstep in what felt like only moments. You tried to say something, anything to let him at least know how grateful you were, but he kissed you on the forehead, turned to light a cigarette, and left before you could. After almost nine years, that was still the moment that came to mind every time you saw him. You could do nothing but just freeze up, barely say a word, and blush.

----------

Tommy ran his hands over his eyes as he stood from his desk. As he started to cross his office to get a drink a soft knock at his office door startled him. His hand went to his gun as he slowly moved to the door. “Who is it?”

“Y/N.”

When the door opened Tommy visibly relaxed when he saw it was just you standing there. The second you saw just how tired he was though, you started to regret even showing up.

“Mr. She- Tommy, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’m so-”

“How are you feeling?” He laughed when your face froze. “From the fall?”

“Oh! Oh, um. I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Come in,” Tommy moved to the side as you stepped past him. You didn’t make it more than five steps though before you froze up again. “Drink?”

“Yes.”

“Everything okay? Here, sit.” Tommy went to the drink cart as you slowly sat yourself down across from his desk. The bruises from the day were definitely setting in.

Tommy handed you a glass of whiskey before moving to sit behind his desk again.

“So, Y/N. What’s on your mind.” He took a sip of his drink, and relaxed back into his chair, not really looking at you.

“I’m sorry,” you declared before downing your drink and setting your glass down a little too hard on his desk. You made a face at the harsh, sudden whiskey burn, but you needed the help to talk to him. “I didn’t mean to be short with you earlier. I almost hurt you on the stairs. Ada and Elena just wouldn’t shut up. I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to yell at you I ju-”

“Yell?” Tommy cut you off. “That’s what you thought you did? Y/N, you’ve been to so many family events I would have guessed you’d worked out what real yelling is. But, then again you rarely ever talk, so maybe that is yelling for you.” Tommy smiled as he lit another cigarette.

“Well, either way. Yelling or not, I am sorry. Just wanted to tell you that.” You shot out of your chair to go, and immediately regretted it. “Fuck.”

“There’s that word again,” Tommy grinned. “Sit down or you’ll hurt yourself.”

As you sat back down slowly, Tommy crossed the room and brought the bottle back. This time he took the chair next to yours so you were both on the same side of the desk. He poured each of you a drink.

“Out of curiosity, what were you doing up there?”

“Where?” You sipped at your drink, this time letting the warmth rush over you.

“By my room.” Tommy watched you as you focused on your glass, not looking at him. “ As soon as I realized it was you coming tumbling down I was actually quite shocked. Ada and Elena didn’t surprise me at all though when I saw their heads at the top of the stairs.”

“Nothing. Just bad timing. I fall a lot.” You took another sip.

“Mmmm and this had nothing to do with my borrowing something of Elena’s brothers?”

“Didn’t know one of them was missing anything.” Your grip got tighter on the glass. Why did this feel like an interrogation all of a sudden? Did you step into something more than you should have?

“You’re very good, Y/N. Much better than Ada when I talked to her about an hour or so ago. She told me right away what the plan was.” He took a long drink. “Not talking must do wonders for you.”

“Oh I talk all the time,” you shot back. You tried not to externally show how shocked you were that you managed to say that so quickly without a care in the world. Damn whiskey.

“Is that so. Well, what do you usually say?” You hesitated.

“Nothing important I promise. I should go.”

“Oh come on, you never talk to me, or anyone. Can’t be shocked I’m curious.”

You took a long swallow and finished your glass. As the whiskey warmed your body, you were finally able to turn yourself towards Tommy and actually look at him.

“I talk about a lot of things. All of us girls do when we get together. Town, the world, clothes, boys, drinking, trav-”

“Boys and drinking? I’m surprised.”

“What? That twenty year old girls talk about boys and drinking? Like you said earlier, we aren’t seven and eight anymore.” You grabbed the bottle and poured yourself another glass.

Tommy sat a little shocked for a moment. He hadn’t heard you speak this much in years, and now you were very clearly not the tiny little girl who begged him to play anymore.

“No, you definitely are not. None of us are.”

“I’m sorry if that was rude. Like you said, I don’t talk much around you.”

“And why is that exactly?” You froze. Shit. That was not something you deliberately meant to point out like that.

“You, uh, you’re just usually the one talking, or Ada, or Polly, or something. So, um, not much to say I guess.”

“Bullshit.” Your head snapped towards him. “You do talk, like you’ve said. I’ve heard you talking with the girls. With Polly, and sometimes John or Arthur. Just not me. Why is that?”

Your hand started to shake so you slammed your whiskey again, and this time tried to fight the weird face that came with it. You took a deep breath and reached for the bottle again.

“You’re not an idiot Tommy. You know why.” You’d decided there and then to just let it all out. Fuck it. You’d embarrassed yourself several times already. May as well.

“What? No I don’t. We were friends, I left, came back, and ever since I haven’t heard more than ten words.”

“Twenty,” you smirked. “It’s been more words than that.”

“I doubt it.” Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he held his drink. “Y/N, look at me”

Taking another deep swig, you let yourself truly look at him. Let your eyes wander over his handsome face. You could still see the remains of where there would be crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. You could see the curves of his face you’d memorized over so many years. You finally looked into his eyes, and your heart broke when you didn’t see the sparkle that used to be so irresistible. Now he just looked tired and worn down.

“Why don’t you talk to me?” His words snapped you back to the present.

“Because I can’t. Not like I used to.”

“Did I do something?”

“Yes.”

Tommy straightened back up. He prepared himself to hear the worst of one of his actions thrown back at him. Looking down at his glass, he finished the rest of his drink.

“You kissed me.”

You could feel him staring at you, but you kept your eyes locked on your glass resting in your lap. You’d said it. It was out in the open. But the whiskey confidence wore off and you felt extremely vulnerable all of a sudden.

Tommy’s laugh made you look up. “I did kiss you. I picked you up like a bride and kissed you in front of that little prick of a boy. He was bullying you or something right?”

You relaxed back in your chair and started to laugh a little yourself. “That’s right. He was going to tell everyone I was ten years old and peeing the bed if I didn’t kiss you. And I had a crush on you, so he figured I’d never do it. You made it happen, like you make everything happen, and that was that. He never bullied me again.”

Tommy looked more relaxed as he rested in his chair than he had in ages. He sort of marveled over the silly story from the past as he finished his drink.

“Well, apparently I cannot kiss properly since you have refused to talk to me for so long after.”

“Oh fuck off,” you laughed back. “That wasn’t the case and we both know it. Like I said, you’re not an idiot.”

“Clearly I am, Y/N. I kissed you. You had a crush. That was the-” And that’s when it hit him. You had a crush. Back then. But also right now. That’s why you couldn’t talk to him.

When you realized it was finally setting in you finished your drink, gave yourself a moment, and started to stand.

“Y/N, wait.” You paused, but you couldn’t look at him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see it before. I truly am. You just pulled back. Stopped talking. Ada never let a hint on. I just didn’t notice. I’m so sorry.”

“Well,” you laughed a bit, “Ada was on notice that she would die if she let anything slip. So believe it or not she can keep a secret.”

The two of you laughed quietly as you stood at the desk. Tommy took a moment to truly look at you, as you were now in the moment. He let his eyes wander over your curves, how your clothes fell across your body. His eyes traced the profile of your face.

Tommy stood up and poured himself another glass. He shifted his weight so he was all of a few inches from you.

“There was a boy once sitting up at the bar at the Garrison. He was talking with his mate and I overheard him say he was going to go and talk to you and Ada. It immediately made me on edge. So I watched as they strolled over. They talked with you two, made you both laugh. As I watched the one with Ada, everything in me wanted to hit him for coming onto my little sister. But the other one talking to you, I just wanted to hit him because he was talking to you. You both left with them, and it took everything in me to not chase you down.”

You looked up at him, completely confused. “Why would you be mad he was talking to me? You’ve said it yourself I never talk to you. We’ve both been with other people. Why would it matter?”

“It just….it was the first time it really hit me how gorgeous of a woman you grew up into. We’ve known each other for ages. I was your first kiss I’m pretty sure. And seeing another man suddenly have an interest in you...you just weren’t that girl that only had eyes for me anymore.”

“Well, I knew there would be no point waiting for you to be all my firsts,” you laughed. “If I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you, I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to ask for anything else. Besides, you had so many others that adored you. One’s who never begged and cried for a kiss.”

Getting all of that off your chest, and the whiskey, made you suddenly feel lighter. Stronger almost. He was Tommy, the boy you grew up with. Your old friend, and someone that you could in fact talk to.

“I’ve drank enough of your whiskey for one night I think. I’ll let you go.”

When you set your glass down, Tommy slid his arm around your waist and turned you to him. He rested his forehead on yours, and you could feel his chest rising and falling.

“Y/N.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I’ll cry,” you could hear him smile a bit, “but would you kiss me?”

You didn’t know if you were suddenly hallucinating or what, but the only thing that came to mind was what he had said when you had asked him that, so many years ago.

“And why would you want me to kiss you?” You smirked.

“Please, Y/N,” his tone was more serious than you expected. “I have to know that I taught you well.” The laugh was back in his voice as his thumb came to raise your chin.

Your lips brushed as they found each other, and as soon as they did, he pressed long, drawn out kisses into your trembling lips. You couldn’t believe you were actually kissing Thomas Shelby. And not because he pitied the embarrassed little girl. But because he wanted the beautiful woman you’d become.

You decided it was now or never, and stepped into him. You pushed deeper into his kiss, letting him know how desperately you craved it. You let your body press against his, running your arms around his waist. If you were going to kiss him, you wanted to make sure he knew how badly you’d been dreaming about this moment.

Pushing your chest into his, you could feel how restrained he was trying to be. You dug your nails into his lower back just slightly as you pulled him tighter. One hand moved to his face as you pressed your hips into his. Pushing your tongue past your own lips, he eagerly met you with his own. Tommy’s arm circled you, one on your waist, and the other moving up your back to the base of your neck, bringing you closer. As your tongues caressed and teased, you could feel your own breathing becoming slightly labored at your own self restraint.

You slid your hand up to his hair, lightly tugging as you dug your nails into his lower back again. He slid the hand on the back of your neck up to grab a handful of hair before gently thrusting his hips into yours. Each of you pressed your bodies as close together as possible as your kiss deepened. Tommy was the first to pull away, his lips finding your neck as he teased you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, giving a slight pull and the tiniest groan passed his lips. That sound shot through you, and you knew you needed to hear it again.

Bringing his lips back to yours you swirled your tongue around his, teasing him with the skill you had developed. Your hand on his lower back dropped to his ass. Giving him a long, deep kiss you tangled your fingers in his hair again. Biting his lower lip, you squeezed his ass and pulled his hair all at once. Just as quickly as that groan passed his lips, he was pushing himself from you.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Tommy stood there, his eyes burning into you as they ran up and down your body. His chest was literally heaving as he tried to make up his mind.

“Y/N. You….you’re not as quiet and docile as you seem are you?”

You could see where this was going and immediately knew you needed to step up if you really wanted him to know how badly you wanted this.

Closing the distance between you, you pushed Tommy down into his seat. Before he could fully process everything, you were slowly dragging your skirt up your thighs, and climbing into his lap. You made sure that you adjusted yourself in his lap as slowly as possible. Making sure you used his chest and thighs to brace yourself. Pushing your chest into his face whenever possible. And when you finally got settled, your lips went straight to his ear. Your hot breath on his skin made him stiffen underneath you as your words sunk in.

“You want the truth? The entire dirty truth?”

He simply nodded. You shifted yourself again, dragging your chest across his face as you settled to whisper in his other ear.

“I have dreamt about you for longer than I can remember. I have craved the feeling of your hands on my skin. I have spent hours wondering how your lips would feel, not only on mine. But everywhere on my body. I have ground myself onto my own fingers, dreaming about how your cock would feel instead.”

Pushing back a little, you brought both hands to the sides of Tommy’s face as you let yourself ease down into his lap. You started to slowly roll your hips as you locked eyes with him.

“I am not docile. I am definitely not quiet. And I am all yours Thomas Shelby. All. Yours.”

“Fucking hell,” tumbled like a groan mixed with a whisper from Tommy’s lips as he crashed his lips back into yours. His hands found your hips almost immediately. As his tongue met yours again, his fingers dug into your ass as he ground your hips harder into his. You moaned into his mouth as your hands ran up his chest, one hand cradling his face and the other moving to his hair. You dropped your lips to nip and bite at his jaw. His head fell back as you sucked at his neck. Bracing yourself with one hand on his chest, you circled your hips into his, grinding as hard as you could on the bulge in his lap.

One of his hands moved between you, finding your breast he grabbed hard, and pulled you to him. His breath hitched as your fingers brushed the skin on his chest as you undid his buttons. As one of his large hands palmed your breast, his other hand ran up your thigh, pushing your dress as far up your body as he could.

You could feel the heat rising in your body, and needed more. Capturing Tommy’s lips again, you teased him with your tongue as you pushed his shirt back over his shoulders. When his hands left you to pull his shirt off, you grabbed the edges of your dress and pulled it over the top of your head. When your face cleared the fabric, Tommy’s eyes were locked on your body.

He looked hungry as his eyes traveled over your breasts, down your torso. His hands ran up and down your thighs, occasionally grazing your ass. Your eyes fixated on his lips as your hands ran over his chest.

“Tommy.” Your voice snapped him from his trance. “Fuck me.”

Tommy crashed his lips into yours, his hands gripping your ass as he lifted you from the chair. Your legs tightened around his waist as he spun you. He took two strides and then slowly lowered you both to the ground. With each of you on your knees, Tommy’s lips left yours to find your neck once again. Your fingers flew to undo his pants as his fingers started to remove your slip. As soon as you felt his pants give, you slid your hand down his length and started to pump his cock while it was still in his pants. His breath hitched and then he grabbed a thick handful of your hair.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” He breathed against your ear.

“Getting ready to suck your cock...Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy released your hair a bit, and pulled back so he could look at you. “Normally, that’s exactly what I want to hear. But right now...call me Tommy.”

Pushing his pants towards his knees with one hand, you pushed his shoulders back gently with the other. Tommy shifted so his pants came off and he slowly fell to his back with you moving over him.

“Tommy,” you breathed as you kissed his chest. “You are too tired. Let me take care of you. Just this once. Please. Tommy.” Pressing a deep kiss into his lips, you leaned back to read his face. You could see how badly he wanted control, how he wanted to show you how badly he wanted you. But you could also see the relief in his eyes. How desperately he needed to be taken care of as well.

Tommy raised his head, gave you a slow and tender kiss, and then nodded his head as he let it fall back to the floor. You pressed gentle kisses onto his forehead, each cheek, and then quickly on his lips. You let your warm breath and wet tongue drag down the sides of his neck. Your fingers trailed over the curves of his arms and shoulders as you left wet kisses across his chest. Your hand lazily trailed down his sides as you dragged your tongue down his torso.

His head came up when he felt your touch leave him. You pushed off the floor, and stood at his feet. He had never fully removed your slip, or your panties. Making sure he was looking at you, you slowly raised your slip over your head. As you let it fall to the floor, your hands found your breasts and slowly messaged them, showing Tommy just how you liked it. Your hands slowly made their way to your panties. Leaning over so your chest fell towards him, you pushed your pantines down your legs. As you stepped out of them, you let one hand slip between your legs, playing with yourself for a moment as Tommy’s eyes blew wide open.

Towering over him, you couldn’t believe it. Thomas fucking Shelby was laying completely naked on the floor of his own office. He was laying there for you. Practically drooling as he watched you tease yourself. His cock literally hard and throbbing only for you.

As you lowered yourself back between Tommy’s legs, he propped himself up on his elbows to watch you. Moving forward like you were going to kiss him again, Tommy leaned in, but let out a small huff when your lips dropped to his chest instead. One hand moved up his thigh making him twitch. Your teeth grazed his nipple and his head fell back again. Teasing him with your warm tongue, you swirled and dragged it down his torso as you took his length in your hand again. Slowly pumping his length, you lowered yourself between his legs, making yourself comfortable.

The second your tongue flattened and touched the tip of his cock, Tommy fell back onto the floor. You slowly swirled your tongue on his tip, letting your hand fall to the base of his cock. Keeping your tongue wide you lapped at the sides of his length. You could feel his veins pulsing underneath your tongue. As you let go of his cock, you positioned yourself on both hands. Slowly you lowered your mouth around him, just covering his tip. You sucked gently, and then pulled back. Leaning down again, you moved just as slowly but this time going an inch or so deeper, gently sucking, and then pulling back. Slowly, and painstakingly, you worked your way down Tommy’s shaft as it literally throbbed against your warm, wet mouth.

When you finally got to his base, you just held him there for a moment. Just let the warmth of your mouth surround him. Without backing off, you pressed your tongue hard into him as you lapped and sucked. Tommy’s body nearly seized up as the pressure changed. Bobbing your head gently, you slowly backed off him. Letting him go with a pop, you ran your hand up and down his cock, changing the pressure of your grip as you went.

“You like my soft mouth, Tommy?”

There was only a strangled whisper that passed his lips.

“Do you want me to keep sucking your sweet dick?”

“Ye...yes” This time his whisper was a little clearer.

Moistening your lips, you settled yourself back in. Holding him at the base, you used your other hand to start massaging his balls. Once his hips settled from the sudden change, you flattened your tongue and lapped at the sides of his cock. You let yourself coat him in your spit, literally drooling over him. Your hand started to pump him again as your tongue began to tease and flick at his tip. Beads of precum began to meet your tongue and it was just as sweet as you imagined. The heat between your legs was pooling more and more, part of you actually worried you might drip onto him. But you knew that would only make it that much better.

Taking his length all at once you let him hit the back of your throat. Holding him there for a moment, you felt his dick literally twitch in your mouth. Practically begging you for more. As you let him go with a pop again, you braced yourself on either side of his hips. Running your tongue up and down his length a few more times, you looked up at him.

“Fuck me, Tommy. Fuck my mouth.”

Tommy’s hands flew up to your hair and where slamming you down on his cock in an instant. Again and again he drove you down on his cock, fucking your mouth as hard as he could. He felt you tighten your grip on his thigh and his hands let up. You took a huge gulp of air, and then grabbed his cock. You pumped him hard as you bobbed your mouth up and down. Coating him with your spit you moaned on his cock as you worked him with your tongue. Strangled moans started to pass from Tommy’s lips and his breath started to become even more ragged. He was nearing his limit.

Moving your hands away again, Tommy fisted your hair and drove you back down around his cock. This time he lifted up his hips and fucked your mouth fast and quick. He barely let you do anything with your tongue he was going so fast. When you finally did squeeze his thigh, Tommy let go of your hair and pushed you back.

“Now you’re mine.”

You’d barely even registered what he said when Tommy was pulling you on top of him, his lips crashing into yours like he’d been craving them for ages. As your tongues met again, he groaned into your mouth as he rolled you to your back. He laid to the side of you and let his fingers travel up and down your body. Tingles flew across you as he moved up and down your back, down your stomach, and then his fingers settled on your breast. Slowly massaging and cupping just how you liked, you arched into his touch.

Tommy’s lips dipped to your neck, nipping as he moved to your shoulder. His fingers rolled your nipple between them and you let out a soft whimper. Tommy’s cock was still pressed against you and you could feel him twitch with every soft moan and hitched breath. He captured your lips again and muffled the sound of your whimper as he brushed along the inside of your thigh.

Torturing you with his pace, Tommys fingers ran up and down your thigh, inching towards your center. You could feel yourself literally dripping onto the carpet beneath you. Tommy bit at your lip as he finally brushed at your sex. Your whole body responded and you could feel him smile as he kissed you deeply. Your hand dropped to stroke him, but he caught your wrist.

“No, no, not now. This...this is all for you, Y/N.”

As your body relax back into the floor Tommys fingers cupped your pussy and started to rock his palm into your crest. His lips latched to your breast as his teeth grazed your nipple. Letting out a loud whimper you writhed underneath him. His fingers glided through your folds as the heel of his hand pressed into your clit. Rolling it beneath his palm he let one finger tease your entrance. As he bit at your nipple you arched hard into his mouth, pressing yourself into his hand.

“Please Tommy...please….I...please let me feel you.”

Tommy groaned against your breast as his fingertips found your clit. Pressing his calloused fingertips into you, you whimpered and moaned as you ground yourself into him. His mouth left your chest as he rose up, pressing is strong lips into yours. As he teased your clit he swallowed each moan as his tongue teased yours. Dropping his lips to your neck, his breath was hot on your ear.

“You said you weren’t quiet.”

“Yes” you breathed, trying desperately to keep some control over your body.

“Prove it. Let me hear how bad you want it.”

Your eyes snapped open as Tommy pushed a thick finger inside you. Curling and dragging at your walls you ground yourself into his hand and cried out. You dug your nails into his back as your other hand pressed into the carpet. Another finger joined the first and he stretched you perfectly. The slight burn was incredible as he plunged deeply inside of you. The heel of his hand stayed presssed to your clit as you fucked yourself into his hand.

“Tommy….oh fuck...yes…..oh god….Tommy…”

You were so strung out you couldn’t think straight. Your pussy drenched his fingers as he buried his face into your neck. Biting and sucking, occasionally dipping to tease your breasts. As you started to tighten around his fingers you could hear how his breathing changed. He knew you were close. You rocked your hips faster, trying to keep with his pace as he fucked into you. Your fingers found his hair again and started to pull as you cried out.

“Please...yes...Tommy I’m so close...I...Tommy I’m so….fuck….oh fuck...Tommy!”

You tightened hard around his fingers, your orgasm slamming through you and into him. Your grip on his hair made him practically growl as you spasmed around him. No one had ever made you feel this high before. His fingers started to slowly bring you down. You felt his body shift and before you fully processed it, Tommy was pushing your legs apart. You tried to speak, but you had nothing left.

Tommy’s fingers never left your core, completely dripping with your release. Your legs slammed around his head the second his strong tongue touched your clit. You were still on fire practically and he wanted to keep you there. Tommys tongue flicked at your swollen clit, his fingers expertly curling and scissoring inside you. You were arching practically off the floor and too dizzy to know which way was up. Your legs were like live wires, kicking out every time he grazed your g-spot, but then clamping down around Tommys head each time he sucked at your clit. You were writhing so much that Tommy finally took his fingers out of your spasming pussy so he could hold your hips down.

His tongue lapped through your folds. Lazily finding every glistening and dripping wet corner of your pussy. You drenched his face as he fucked into your core with his tongue. Lapping up your sweet taste and literally groaning into your cunt. His tongue was strong and quick as it would go from rolling your clit to flicking it like mad. Your fingers were buried in Tommy's hair, pulling and yanking. He had scratch marks all over his shoulders and forearms.

“Tommy! Tommy!” He just groaned into your cunt sending waves through your already overloaded body. “Please! Please fuck me...please Tommy….oh god I wanna feel your cock inside me...please…”

In an instant Tommy was off of you. He flew to his knees, grabbing your hips and dragging you down the carpet towards him. Tommy thought about flipping you over, fucking you from behind so he could get deep inside you. But this time he wanted to watch you. He wanted to see you come undone around him. There would be plenty more times to fuck you howeverelse he liked.

Tommy settled himself over you, panting as he looked down on you. Sweat glistened his brow, his lips were bright red. His eyes were in a daze, but still hungry. You had a sheen of sweat as well and couldn’t get your breathing together to save your life. Thomas Shelby held himself over you on all fours. Just watched as the mess of you he created. You were practically vibrating there was so much energy and heat running through you. Each of you tried to match your breathing as you both prepared yourselves.

Lowering himself towards you, Tommy rested on his forearms on either side of your face. His fingers intertwined over your head as he rested his forehead on yours. You let your legs fall apart so he could line himself up. You reached down to feel him throbbing, to the point you wondered if it was painful for him.

Slowly taking him in your hand, you felt him twitch at your touch. You gave him a moment before sliding him between your folds. You felt like someone had dumped a bucket between your legs, you had never been this wet in your life. But, you’d never fucked Thomas Shelby before either.

You lined him up with your literally aching core, and waited for him to press into you. You let your other hand drag lazily over his back. You could feel from the weight of his forehead on yours he was trying to collect himself. Maybe steel himself somehow, you weren’t sure.

“Tommy,” you whispered only loud enough that the two of you could hear. “Tommy look at me.”

Taking a deep breath, Tommy shifted so he could look into your eyes. You could see a small sparkle coming back to his eyes. They were lustful but content. You’d never seen him like this before. You let both of your hands rest on either side of his face, and then gently lifted your head to kiss him tenderly.

“Let’s just….Tommy…”

“Yes, Y/N.”

“Just let me feel you.”

Tommy’s entire body relaxed into yours. Slowly pushing himself into you, your arched as he slowly filled you. Letting that gentle stretch and slight burn wave through you. You pressed warm kisses into the tops of Tommys shoulders as he settled himself inside you. One of his hands cupped your face as he kissed you deeply, you could feel him twitching inside you.

“I want….Y/N….I want you to feel how badly I wa-”

“Tommy,” you cut him off with a quick kiss. “Just let yourself go. It’s me. I’m right here. Just let go.”

Slowly Tommy started to thrust into you, keeping himself inside of you as he rocked his hips. He filled you so completely that every movement was so intense your eyes were pressed shut and you were biting into his shoulder as you whimpered. As his pace started to pick up, his hips started to snap into yours. Thrusting fast and hard he shifted his weight and lifted his hips.

Tightening your legs around him, the angle shifted and he drove directly into your g-spot with unrelenting force. You lost all control and whimpers moved into screams as Tommy fucked you. His pace was unrelenting as he fought his own orgasm. You had come so many times at this point, you weren’t even sure you could again. But when your name slipped past Tommy’s lips, your coil tightened immedaitely.

“Oh fuck….Tommy...I….oh I’m gonna cum...oh...Tommmy…”

“Y/N,” his strangled moan of your name almost made you snap. “Fuck you’re so beautiful. Oh god, Y/N. I’m….I…”

“Yes...yes Tommmy!” you cried out, your hands pressing into the floor below you. “Please! Please I want to feel you!”

You were so close you felt like any second you would snap. Tommys pace almost faltered for a moment, before he finally just let go.

“Y/N, Y/N….I’m….I…”

“Come for me” you breathed.

At that moment, everything went black. Your body coil snapped harder than you knew it possibly could. Every emotion of ecstasy you ever had in your entire life intensified and crashed into you. Tommy completely lose control and buried himself inside of you as he exploded. You could feel him coating your walls as he shook and whimpered over you. Each of you collapsed into each other, completely and utterly spent.

Tommy rolled to your side and pulled you close. Each of you glistened in a layer of sweat as your bodies came together. His frame held you perfectly, and you fit in to every inch of his embrace. You could feel his heart racing with yours, and the last thing you remembered was trying to slow your breathing with Tommy’s.

When you both heard people coming into the office the next morning, you started to wake up. Your body felt like you’d been run over by a series of trucks. Between the fall down the stairs and having the most incredible sex of your life on the floor, not to mention sleeping on it, you were in more pain than you had been in a long time.

“Y/N?” You rolled over and Tommy was looking you over as if he broke you. “Oh my god. Fuck. Y/N, I am so sorry. This floor. And last night I was too hard on you a-”

You stopped his rambling with a deep kiss, and pulled him close to you. Your fingers ran along his jawline as he caressed the side of your face. You both just laid there, lazily kissing and soaking up each others presence.

“If you so much as attempt to apologize for anything that happened last night Thomas Shelby, it will be the last thing you do. Understood?” You laughed as you gave him another kiss.

Voices started to get louder outside, and you knew it was time to go. As you tried to sit up though, your body was having none of it.

“Here,” Tommy sat up next to your side, “let me help you.”

Tommy handed you your clothes as you both got dressed on the floor. He helped you sit up and gathered his things and your coat. When you were all settled he helped you gently stand.

“You alright?” Tommy’s eyes searched yours trying to read your mind for how you were really feeling.

“I won’t lie,” you laughed. “It does hurt pretty bad. But I’ll make it home. With some help if that’s alright?”

Tommy smiled wider than you had seen in years before he gave you a deep and long kiss. He broke the kiss only to dip down and sweep you into his arms, just like a groom does to his new bride.

“Let me take you home, and let me take care of you. How does that sound?”

You couldn’t find the right words, so you answered with a kiss instead.

As Tommy carried you out of the office heads turned to stare. Polly and Arthur came through the door just as Tommy was carrying you out.

“Hello Polly. Hello Arthur.” You smiled and waved as you both left. They stood in the doorway and watched Tommy carry you to his car just down the street.

“So she’s talkin’ around him again then?” Aruthur looked at Polly, completely confused.

“Oh she’s talking alright,” Polly smiled.

#thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader smut #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby smut

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dungeons-bat · 3 years

Text

Not Just a Little Party (6th Chap)

Warnings: Cursing;

The complete fic

———————————————

‘Shit’, is the only thing that I can actually think about when I wake up. It takes me a while to realize where I am, and when I do, I feel a pair of hands hugging me by my waistline. And I had my face buried in his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Oh, good morning, darling.” - I hear him saying. Lord, his port-sleep voice is gorgeous. “Good morning, slept well?” - Because I certainly did. “Incredibly well. If I knew that was the solution to the problem, I would have done it sooner.” - He said. Well Thomas, me too. “How did you know I was awake?” - I mean, he said good morning ten seconds after I woke up. “Your breathing changed.” - He simply said. That means that he was at least paying a bit of attention, so why didn’t he move. I mean, we were sleeping like a teenage couple. And we’re not any of those things. “And what time is it?” - Because it was five thirty when we went to bed. “It is nine thirty, darling.” - Usually, I’m completely okay with the fact that he calls me darling, but now I’m blushing. Maybe it is the position that we are in. “Four hours sleep, that’s not bad.” - I don’t like sleeping that much, but we need it, don’t we? “Do you wanna go out to have breakfast? Or we can bake some pancakes here.” - Thomas’ pancakes are probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten, but I don't know what he feels like doing today. “I don’t have a preference.” - He hates when I do that. “Little one, you have three seconds to tell me what you want.” - But I’m the last person you should ask when you want to make a decision. “I love your pancakes, but it takes time, and we have to clean everything after. I also love to eat out, but we have to look presentable to go out of this house. So, as I said, I have no preference.” - Really, I’m fine with anything. “Out it is, but just because I’m craving Jenny’s waffles”

We're at Jen, which is a restaurant specialized in breakfast, and probably the love of Tom's life. Jenny, the chef and owner of the place, is a 57-year-old lady, who cooks better than anyone I’ve ever met. I was eating a croissant with strawberry jelly, and a cup of coffee with vanilla extract. Tom was eating his waffles, and tea. We were talking to Jenny when out of nowhere she says. “So, what does the cute couple has planned for today?” - Oh, Jenny, my dream, but not reality. “We’re not…” - Both Tom and I said at the same time. “Oh sure, still at the denying feelings phase.” - She simply said, and left. I look at tom and see that his face is as red as the ketchup bottle at the table. I also felt my face burning, so I was sure I was blushing too. I mean, I know that I'm into him, but I won't fool myself thinking that TWH was into me too. So we just kept eating, no words coming from none of our mouths.

“Ready to go?” - Now, we were at my house, I needed to get ready for the party. Tom was waiting for me in the living room, but I had to lock Hades in a bathroom because he was leaving his fur all over Tom’s suit. I decided to go for an all black dress, black heels. My hair was down, and as I let it dry naturally, beautiful wavy locks covered my chest. I put some make up, but I wanted my face to look as natural as possible. Then it was the hardest part, in my opinion, jewellery. I decided that I was wearing my favourite colour, green, so everything I put on, rings, necklaces, earrings, all white gold and emeralds. When I stepped out of the room, Tom looked shocked and said, “Lord, you look gorgeous, loyally breathtaking.” - Well, I have to agree with him, I do look gorgeous now. “You don’t look bad yourself, Tom. I told you once, and I’ll tell you again, the suits suit you.”

Sebastian had some stuff to do in London, he had rented a giant house, where he was going to satay for two more weeks. Since he paid a huge amount of money on this, he had to have fun, so he decided to throw a party.

When we arrived at Sebastian’s house, I could not help but notice how big it was. Compared to the other actors houses, it wasn’t that huge, but lord, I was not used to this lifestyle. “Hello miss, you must be Isabela, am I correct?” - My god in a shining armour and purple pants. That is Sebastian bloody Stan. Asking me my name. Sebastian bloody Stan. “Hi, yeah, Isabela Grey sir. Thank you very much for welcoming me to the party, your house is lovely, mister.” - I say. I mean, I know his name is Sebastian, not mister Stan, but I’ve just met him, what am I supposed to cal him? “Well, I thank you for coming, it is a pleasure to finally meet my new colleague. And please, no need for “sir” or “mister”, Sebastian is just fine.” - Well, that answers my question. After greeting me, Sebastian starts to talk to Thomas, they chat a bit, then we go to the living room, where the party is actually happening. The other actors are there. Scarlet freaking Johanson is there, what surprises me a bit, I mean, that woman is my idol. I can also see Anthony Mackie, Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth, Tom Holland, wait, I thought Seb hated Tom. I can also see Mark Ruffalo, Benedict Cumberbatch, Elizabeth Olsen, Paul Rudd and Jeremy Renner. Also, I see RDJ, who’s not a Marvel Actor any more, but apparently he’s still pretty close to the others. They all greet me, say that it is ‘so nice to see you’ or that ‘your dress is marvellous’. But I was almost dizzy, all this people that I’ve been seeing in the cinema since I was eight, are now here, in front of me, talking to me. Lord. Thomas noticed that I was going crazy, excused both of us and took me to the yard. “Honey, are you okay?” - He asked me. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry to worry you. I’m just surprised. I mean, wow, I’m an actress, you know. That was my dream since ever. And more, I’m a Marvel freaking actress. I grew up watching Marvel, Tom. And look at where I’m now. I literally have a plastic figure of every single one of those people that said ‘hi’ to me. That’s crazy. If you told the twenty-year-old Isa that this was happening, she would tell you to stop lying and giving her expectations. This is ten hundred times bigger than anything I had ever thought I could accomplish.” - I think I talk too much. “Well, darling, that's amazing. I just did not know that you had figures of them. Do you have a Loki one? But anyway, I’m happy that I could be a small part on all of that.” - Is he crazy? A SMALL part? He got me my life. “TWH, you’re not a small part, if it was not you, none of that would have happened. Really, thank you.” - I say, and he leads the way back inside. “And by the way, I do have some figures o Loki. He is my favourite character, and I thought you had noticed it by now.” - He has been to my house, I have tons of Loki merch.

After some hours of party, the guests started to leave, but I discovered that it was like a rule that we, the ones I named in the previous chapter, should stay. Since they work with him, and I'm going to do the same later, we stay a bit longer for chatting and playing something. Like a friends' reunion. Both Chris Evens and Hemsworth were getting more beer, I believe today was the day that I had more alcohol in my whole life, but unlike most of them, I'm not drunk. They were controlled until the other guests left, but after that, they drank three litres of beer in an hour and a half. They were not crazy drunk, but you could see that sober was something that they were not. Thomas, Hemsworth, Scarlet, and Benedict were as sober as I, but the rest of them were stoned as a rock.

We were telling embarrassing stories that happened to us, when Lizzie says, “But no funny stuff about you two?” - While pointing a finger at Tom and I. “Oh, come on. A cute couple, like the two of you, had never walked through something you could not solve and ended up embarrassing yourselves?” - Shit Lizzie. “We are not…” - I said, while Thomas just said, “Not dating.” - Well now I have an embarrassing story to tell, when Elizabeth Olsen asked me if I was dating Tom Hiddleston. “Oh come on, I can smell the sexual tension from miles. You’re lying. Either to us or to yourselves.” - RDJ is visibly drunk, so I’ll just ignore that. “Let's change the subject, shall we?” - My saviour, Ben, says. I look at Thomas’ direction and can see that he’s trying, but failing, to hide a blush.

#tom hiddleston #hiddlestoners #hiddlestan #thomas william hiddleston #fanfic #fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston series #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x ofc #hiddlesfic

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mytrashs-blog · 4 years

Text

Movie Star- part 2!

Pairing: BFF! Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: She’s a fluffy one... but also not straight away

Summary: You’re trying to save your friendship but the plan changes

Word Count: 3,071 words so buckle up

A/N: This is the last part I will be writing on this and that’s final, cause I had THE hardest time trying to write fluff... I’m an angst author, what can I say? I did love the final result of this, so I hope you enjoy! (Please if you do like it, reblog it so it can be read by more and more people).

Part one is here!!!, and here is my masterlist in case you want to read something else

(Gif isn’t mine, credits go to the owner!)

You’re sitting on the couch, two popcorn bowls sitting on the coffee table, because you like spicy sauce on yours and he finds soggy popcorn disgusting, there’s also two bottles one coke and one water, because you can’t stand fizzy drinks, but it’s his cheat day so he’ll take advantage. You’re both on the same couch, but you’re in your side, he’s in his, there’s two blankets and there’s no touching, not even accidentally, not even casually, none at all.

Frankly you’re even surprised you agreed to see him again after that one time you went out for coffee with him to come up with a peace treaty. It’s not that you don’t want things to go back to normal, it’s just that you don’t know what “normal” is for both of you anymore, you’re very sure there is no such thing after all the drama you went through a year ago. But you’re willing to try.

The movie has been going on for a while and you haven’t exchanged a word for the whole time, you intentionally decided to play a good movie so that you wouldn’t get the chance to start talking, so Pulp Fiction is playing, funny enough it’s your first time watching it and you’ve never been a big fan of Tarantino’s films, but you haven’t let Tom (your former best friend) see you yawning under your blanket. Thank Lord your thoughts drift away unitl the movie ends, but then you start getting anxious, you’ve been dreading this moment because you just know he’s gonna tell you something. And he does.

“What’s wrong? You didn’t say a word in like two hours and that’s not very you from you” he offers in an insecure manner, and that’s not very Tom from Tom.

“There’s… nothing wrong, Tom… I just don’t know what to say to you anymore. I don’t know who you are, we’ve been out of each other’s lives for a year. Last time we actually spent time together we destroyed our friendship. And then we attacked each other for the months that followed. We haven’t had a proper conversation in more than a year, A YEAR. And I’m not saying I don’t want us to be friends anymore, I just don’t know how to start.”

He stares at you for a few seconds, you can see he’s calculating his next dialogue, he really doesn’t want to fuck up the babies steps you’ve taken to fix things, and you don’t either so you wait for him.

“We…” he starts but soon stops again, thinking once more of an apropriate way to say things “We can’t really go back to the way things were before, because we were doing a lot of things wrong to begin with. I don’t want to have what we had before… I want to start fresh. You don’t know the new me and I don’t know the new you. So let’s get to know each other.”

That was the corniest speech you’ve ever heard. If you weren’t so moved by it, you’d be laughing at his face, but instead of doing that, you tried to follow along with the corny theme, so you reached your hand out for him to strech it and said “Hi, my name’s (Y/N), nice to meet you”.

He did chuckle at that but he took your hand regardless, offering one of those relaxed smiles you haven’t seen in over a year “I’m Tom, nice to meet you too”.

You kept hanging out a lot more often since that day, things were picking up a nice pace and you were getting more and more comfortable around him everyday. Sure, things changed, but they changed for the better. He made sure to take you to a lot of the fun things he did sometimes and you even invited him to the recital of the dance academy where you teach, which was a mistake because he had to smile and take pictures all afternoon with little girls and a bunch of moms… and the ocassional dad who actually cared about his role on spider-man and not only his beautiful biceps. Not that you were paying attention to the fact that he was getting buff again to reprise his role, no, he’s your friend, you don’t look at those things. You noticed because the moms noticed.

It was nice to fall back into your habit of late night phone calls to tell each other the latest gossip around your lives, you also missed sending him the most random, wackyest gifs at the most inconvenient of times and you missed him offering to drive you to places, maybe even go buy your groceries together.

Soon enough the press found out you were hanging out again and you were not safe from paparazzi for a solid amount of two weeks until it stopped being interesting, but of course half of the stories were written along the lines of “From bff to enemies to lovers? Is Tom Holland dating long time bestie (Y/N)?” and just like you did all those years ago when he was just becoming Hollywood’s newest hearthrobe you got together to laugh about what the tabloids were writing.

There was only one problem. You kinda were catching feelings.

It’s just that he had changed so much. He wasn’t mean aymore, to anyone and it’s not even that he went back to being the nice guy he was before the fame, he was even better, because he had matured so much and he knew just how much he meant to the people around him, so he made sure to let them know how grateful he was of having them around and it was so nice to see him become such a well rounded man. Regardless of all that, you know that it is a very stupid idea to come up like “Yo, I have a big fat crush on you” right now, because… you just got back to being friends! so you resolve to keep your mouth shut and your feelings at bay.

This one day Tom texted you asking if you wanna grab a bite, he’s at a table reading nearby so you accept and you get sushi because you’re basic like that, but he’s acting all weird today. He’s been staring at you for a little too long now and his gaze has been falling to your lips a few times now, which would be less weird if you weren’t currently stuffing your face with a salmon sushi roll.

You’ve been trying to get him to be less weird, asking about the script, his cast mates and all, but he’s just not cooperating and just keeps doing this thing that he does when he’s nervous where he justs sits there all stiff and plays with whatever he has in his hands, which right now it’s chopsticks and that makes it way too annoying, because it makes a lot of noise, so you decide enough is enough and just go straight against him. “Thomas “some middle name that you hate me calling you” Holland, what on earth is going on with you today?”

He abruptly stops with the chopsticks and you’re so grateful for a second, but then his attention shifts to his watch and it’s pressing your buttons pretty terribly, but then he decides he can actually talk. “Sorry uh… I’ve just been thinking… about… life?”

“What the hell do you mean? And don’t give me any bullshit answer cause you know I’ll know.”

You see him get visibly flustered, but he takes a deep breath to talk, “I’m just… I have been thinking…”

“Oh really? first time I take it” you laugh to lighten the mood that suddenly got terribly heavy.

“Oh, shut up… No, but really. It’s just that we’ve come such a long way, not only recently but overall in the course of the, what? 17 years? that we’ve known each other, you know? and I have been thinking that these past months our relationship has changed so much…”

Is he…?

“And I just think that we’re at a place where we could just try…”

Shit, he is.

“To go somewhere new, you know?”

Holy fuck… he most definetely is!

He falls silent and is looking at you waiting for your reaction, but you’re so shocked that you just haven’t even thought about what you’re going to say to him!

“When you say ‘somewhere new’ what does that mean?” you go for a question, just to get things clear as water before totally reacting.

“I just mean that.. I’ve realized just how much I like you, for real. No safety net here. I want to be with you and I can’t go for another 17 years pretending that I don’t”

For all you know you might just have choked on your sushi, but you haven’t so you decide to swallow whatever is still in your mouth and it’s hard, but mainly because air has just left your lungs. “I… don’t know, I mean… I can’t deny that I have felt that way, but I’m scared. Like what if it doesn’t work out? It’s been hard enough to go back to being friends after a ‘friend break up’ imagine if it was a real, real break up? Would we be able to recover?”

“I know. I’m aware that this is not a simple thing to do, I don’t expect you to just say yes and jump right into my arms. That’s just not your style. Do you want to maybe sleep on it?”

And you do. It’s the worst night of your life though. You’re restless all night, just can’t get your brain to shut up. How are you supposed to “sleep on it” if there is no sleep involved? You roll on you side for what feels like the millionth time and you see the time… it’s almost three in the morning and you haven’t been able to even blink. It’s just… You want to be with Tom so bad, you do! But you also know that you’ve never been good at relationships, they just never last, and then there’s the fact that you have extreme trust issues because almost every guy you’ve ever been with has cheated on you, and you don’t want be paranoid and crazy around Tom, but you just know at some point you won’t be able to hold it in. And for fucks sake! He’s an actor! He will have to kiss other girls for work and… you just don’t want to even think about it… but also, those girls are waaaay prettier than you are.

But on the good side, no one knows Tom like you do, he has never cheated on any girl ever, he’s a real gentleman, and you already have your fingerprint stored in his phone and you do know all his social media passwords which he doesn’t even know how to use so there’s no way he notices the thousands of girls sliding into his dm’s, you also have already met all his friends and family so you can skip all that awkward part of new relationships. How weird would it be to kiss Tom?

He does have very nice lips and he’s constantly using chapstick so they must be very soft, and you’ve seen him kissing actresses before and they’ve never complained about him being a bad kisser, and it’s not like you never thought about that. To be completely honest you’ve imagined how it would be to do way more than just kissing your best friend, which is normal… right? everyone fantazises about their best friend at least once in their life. Difference being that you spent about seven years doing so, if not more.

So if you’ve been in love with him for so long now, and you were able to forgive him for being an asshole and then he changed for the better after thinking he’d lose you then why not give it a shot? It can’t go wrong. You’ve already proved you’d rather die than not have each other in your lives, so even if it’s doesn’t work as a romantic thing you may still be able to save your friendship, right?

You were finally able to fall asleep at 4 a.m. and unsurprisingly, you did dream about you and Tom during your normal movie night, only you’re all curled up on each other, one of his hands is soothingly running through your hair and the other one is on your waist but slipping dangerously low, he ocassionally places a kiss on top of your head and you just feel extremely relaxed, it’s such a bliss of a dream, but then you wake up.

You want to text him the second you wake up, but you still want to keep thinking about it, just because you don’t want to say yes based on a really nice and domestic dream you had, so you make yourself a really nice breakfast and head to work which involves chill dancing around all day, and dance was always a nice way to analize things, at least to you. Also, not thinking is the perfect way of deciding wether you want something or not. By the time you’re done for the day, you’re ready to text Tom.

You ask him to meet you at yours as soon as he has some free time, and around an hour later, the doorbell rings and it’s him. God, you haven’t been this nervous over a guy since middle school, it is borderline ridiculous, but you gotta keep it together. It’s just Tom. Tommy, the guy that wears Hello Kitty pajamas and ties his hair in tiny pony tails when it starts getting too long, he’s the same guy that will regularly asks you how to spell “though” correctly. Just Tom.

You open the door and he looks just as nervous as you are, but you let him in and, as if he’s never been here before, he just stands there by the front door until you ask him to go to the living room. He plays with his hands and tries to clean off the sweat that he probably has all over his hands in his trousers, and you do the same. Just to be safe.

You’re sitting on oposite ends of the room, both of you visibly giddy and jumpy, but you’re so silent that a needle falling would be audible in the whole room. So you try to speak.

“H-how was your day, Tom? Everything okay?”

“Yeah… all normal, pretty chill. You?”

“Normal, just the regular.”

And you fell back into silence for a bit over a minute that felt like years. Unitl you decided you needed to speak again.

“So.. about the thing you told me yesterday…”

“Yes, tell me. Did you think about it?”

“Yeah, I did. You know, we’ve been through a lot together and you know that. I am extremely afraid of losing you forever and I need to tell you that being in good terms with you is my number one priority.”

Tom’s face stays serious as he listens to you, his hands are clasped together to avoid fidgeting, but he hasn’t noticed that his leg is rapidly bouncing up and down to compensate on that field.

“But even with all that I just keep thinking that it just makes sense, you know? You and me together.”

He looks up at you and his eyes are glowing with hope.

“I… have been in love with you for such a long time and I feel like the longer that time goes by, the harder it is to bear it. So I want to jump in full force. Who cares if it doesn’t work?”

He smiles bright now, he even tries to bite his lip to contain it from looking so absurdly stupid, but he doesn’t. He looks just as excited and ready to do this as you do.

“We’ve already been through the worst case scenario and we managed to salvage and make it even better, so I think that even if this doesn’t end up being a bad idea… we’ll be able to stay together anyway.”

And the room falls back into silence, but this one it not overwhelming, the atmosphere feels a lot more hopeful and excited. Tom is just looking at you with a smile on his face and you are looking straight back, feeling anxious about the uncertainty of what is supossed to happen now.

At that moment, Tom stands up and walks towards you, never breaking the eye contact. He extends his hand for you to take it and stand up, so now you’re facing each other, mere inches away, you’re so close you can see the little freckles that decorate the bridge of his nose, and looking in his eyes you can see that he has tiny speckles of darker brown around in his irises.

“I’m gonna kiss you now, is that okay?” he tells you, voice barely audible, you doubt anyone else would’ve been able to hear it, but that makes it so indulgently intimate, so insead of nodding, you decide to say yes in an equally low volume even though you’re the only two people in the house, you want this moment to be yours and for it to stay only in your own tiny bubble.

He smiles before slowly leaning in, time goes painfully slow, but you’re almost unbothered about that, you want to cherish the moment as much as you can. He stops when his lips are barely brushing yours, so you take that last step and lean to seal the remaining space between you two.

You had been holding hands until now that his hands want to move to your waist, but you need something to keep you leveled, cause everything is spining so you place yours on his forearms. Kissing Tom made you feel so stupid. Why did it take you so long to do this? This is clearly where you had to be all this time. His lips feel like coming back home after a long and miserable day, he feels like home. This moment feels like putting in the finishing piece in the puzzle and feeling like all that you went through was worth it, because it gave you this. and that is all that matters.

...

Tagging some people to avoid the flop: @caeruleum-in-caritate-lupus, @softstarkk, @peterparkerbabyy, @dottirose, @legit-fandom-trash, @carostar2020, @appreciating-chase-brody, @mvmakki @madmadmilk @hollandrecs @starksparker @sunshinehollandd, @thatswhaticallfanfiction, @rachaeldonnaspiteri1, @writing-appreciation, @allieandcoffee, @ladythena,

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