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weird-is-life · 2 years ago

Text

Glasses

Pairing: Steve harrington x fem!reader

Sumarry: You convince Steve to be your date at the Family gathering and feelings get confessed

Warnings: language, mentions of food, mean family relatives, protective Steve, use of y/n and petnames, i suck at endings

Words: 3k Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes

Steve was nervously sitting in his car in your driveway and he was thinking about running away.

He'd agreed to saving you today. You basically begged Steve on your knees to get him to come with you. It was a family gathering at your house, a few aunts, uncles and annoying cousins.

You were sick and tired of your cousins's teasing about you coming alone to these family events. So you convinced Steve to be your fake boyfriend.

And Steve as the best friend he is, had said yes. He couldn't back out now, as he was already there.

With heavy legs he walked up to your door and rang the doorbell. You opened the door almost right away.

You looked stressed, your hair was a mess and there were lines of concern on your forehead. You had the most beautiful dress on and Steve couldn't help but to stare at you.

But the second you realised, it was Steve at the door, the frown was replaced by a small smile.

"Hi" you sheepishly greeted him.

"Hi, i'm not late, am i?" maybe you looked so distressed because he got the times wrong?

"No no, you're perfectly on time, c'mon in" you opened the door wider for him to step inside.

"Nobody else is here yet, so we can just go sit down at the table. They should arrive in 10" you mumbled.

"Okay, yeah. We should go sit down, you look like you need a breather" he said, looking at you with worry.

"What's that suppose to mean?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Nothing, you just look a little tense " he explained.

"Oh, sorry. I-I just, i hate these family events. Most of the time it's the most boring thing to go through and i just don't want to hear all those mean comments from Alice or from Amanda or from Karen, well basically from any of my family."

Steve knew very well, what it was like to have mean remarks directed at him by family members. He was glad, he came , because atleast now you had him in your corner.

"Yeah, i know. But I'm here, so they won't say anything bad about you, right? And I won't let them" he said and you chuckled.

"Thanks Stevie, you're my hero" It was now Steve's turn to laugh.

"Don't mention it" he waved his hand.

He stepped closer to you and fixed your hair so it wouldn't look like a car ran you over.

"There" he was proud about the final look.

"Thanks" you uttered.

"Steve!" your mom called out. Your parents loved Steve, he was so polite and always willing to help them with anything. Your mom basically squeeled when you told her Steve was your date for the dinner.

"We are so happy to have you with us today" she embraced him in a tight tight hug, "it was about time you two started dating. It took you guys a long time, i was beginning to think, you would never tell her" she giggled.

Steve raised his eyebrows at you, asking you what was your mom talking about.

You may have told her that Steve was the one to confess his feelings .

Steve just cluelessly laughed with her and then she ushered you two to the table that was set outside.

"I'm sorry Steve, she started asking me questions, so I told her you were the one who confessed the feelings" you apologised.

"Should i be concerned about what else you'd told her?" Steve playfully nudged you by elbow.

"Definitely" you bantered.

While waiting on everybody, you made up a story about how you started dating and talked about holding hands and all the bullshit to convince your family, that you were actually dating.

It wouldn't be too hard for you to pretend to be in love with Steve, because you actually were. You've had feelings for Steve probably since you've met him.

Steve was thinking about the same thing as you. He had no problem with being affectionate towards you. He was in love with you, too. Like how could he not, when you were the kindest person to him.

You always looked out for him, took care of him, you just always made sure that he was okay. So of course, he fell for you.

Your talk with Steve was interrupted by a group of people, your family. They were all staring at you with big eyes and raised eyebrows.

You and Steve stood up and you were about to introduce him to them, but your annoying cousin was faster. "Y/N, who's this handsome man?" Alice asked and your face twisted in annoyance. Alice was your least favorite cousin.

"This is Steve, m-my boyfriend" you shyly announced.

"Your boyfriend?" she ribbed.

"Yes-"

"Hey, i'm Steve, y/n's boyfriend. It's nice to meet you" he spoke over you, because he could see how nervous you were.

Alice looked stunned. She couldn't believe, that Steve was really your boyfriend. She quickly recovered from the shock and greeted him, along with a wink. You just rolled your eyes at it. She was always like this with every boy. Always flirting badly with them, even if they weren't single.

Steve turned his head for a second to mouth 'help me' at you, before turning back to greet everybody else.

After a few excruciating minutes of getting to know your family, Steve was beggining to understand why you hated these things.

"Jesus, i thought, i'd die there. They are like some phyranas trying to eat you alive" he whispered to you as you sat back down at the table.

You let out a loud laugh, which got attention of everyone, "Steve, you can't just say something like that to me without any warning, " you whispered back.

"Sorry, sweetheart. But It's true, they are pretty bad, especially that cousins of yours" he frowned.

"Yeah, i'm sorry for dragging you into this" you felt bad, that he had to experience this because of you. You were sure he had enough family related problems without you adding to the pile.

"It's okay, i don't mind if it helps you" he softly smiled at you, " plus, i get to eat the food cooked by your mom, so that's a win."

"Oh so that's why you'd agreed" you josted. You were still talking in hushed voices, so everybody would occasionally look curious at you two, wondering what was so funny.

"Well, of course,why else would i say yes?" he grinned at you.

You and Steve were both so lost in your conversation, that you didn't even notice Alice's and other cousins's jealous eyes on you.

"So y/n tell us, how did this happen?" she inquired in high pitched voice, looking at you with annoyed face.

"Me and Steve have been best friends for like 2 years now, right?" you looked at Steve and he confirmed what you were saying with a nod and encouraging smile, "and i guess there were feelings since the beggining. But we just denied and denied them, too afraid to ruin the friendship. I was definitely too scared to say anything" you giggled," and then out of the blue Steve was on my porch admiting his feelings for me and it's been perfect ever since."

"Yeah, my good friend helped convince me to finally tell y/n everything and i'm very very happy, i did" Steve added and pulled you closer to his side. You were basically sitting on him, that was how close he pulled you to him. Not that you were complaining.

"Really? That's great" Alice gritted through her teeth, giving you the most unsincere smile ever.

"Yeah, it's awesome" Amanda chimed in. Her voice was as fake as Alice's smile.

Steve's smile never wavered, he completely ignored there insinuations.

"Wait a minute" Amanda suddenly loudly said, "You're the Steve? Steve Harrington? "

"Omg yes, King Steve. I thought i recognized you from somewhere" Alice joined her, they both had big smirks on.

"Oh. I don't go by that silly nickname anymore. It's just Steve now" Steve nervously scratched the back of his neck.

You didn't know your cousins knew him, i mean they went to different highschools.

You felt bad, that they brought this up, Steve beated himself up over his horrible behaviour everytime his highschool days were brought up.

"Just Steve? Guess your life got pretty boring after meeting our dear y/n" Alice made fun of you and everybody laughed.

"No no no. It's definitely not that. I just -" Steve wanted to defend you, but your mom brought the food and everybody ignored him and focused on the food.

You sighed in regret, " Jesus Steve, i'm so sorry for this. I thought they wouldn't behave like this around you. You can go home, i'll just make something up, like you felt sick" you covered your face in your hands.

"Hey hey hey, none of that. It's okay. I agreed to be here, so i'm gonna stay. I knew, what i was getting myself into," you didn't look too convinced,"Seriously, i'll survive. But are you okay? "

"Yeah, i guess, I'm used to it " you shrugged your shoulders.

"You shouldn't think this is okay, because it's not" he was frowning at you again. He hated that you felt like this. It took him all of his strenght not to stand up and drag you away from there.

"I know, Stevie" you tried to give him a smile, showing you were okay, but it failed.

"How much longer do we have to stay here?"

"Just 'till we finish eating and then i think we can ran away" you were looking forward to leaving.

"Good,'cause i'm dragging you out of here as soon as i can" Steve grinned at you, trying to make you feel better.

"I won't say no to that" you grinned back.

You were brought back to reality from your little talk, by your mom serving the food.

You all, surprisingly, ate in peace. You thought, that maybe your cousins gave up with trying to make fun of you. But of course, that was a foolish thought, because when you looked at them, they were glaring at you, well mostly Alice and Amanda. Altough, they would occasionally break their glaring to forcingly laugh at something that Steve said.

"You're so funny!" they flirted with him and Steve choked on his food, after hearing those words. That made you giggle, not because you thought that Steve's choking was funny, but because Steve has been literally talking about his job at the Family video store.

"Uh thanks?" he unsurely said.

"You're welcome" Amanda was the first to respond with another bad wink, it looked more like a twitch of her eye than a wink.

Steve subtly gave you a 'what the actual fuck' look, making you snort.

Meals were eaten and you were about to excuse yourselves and leave, but your mom had other plans. She gave everybody gifts, it was chocolate with a few nice words and joke.

Everyone started reading their little texts, but you hoped to avoid it, because you didn't have your contact lenses in.

"Y/N, what is written on yours?"

"Ugh, i forgot to put in my contacts..." you thought you managed to dodge it, but it's never that easy, right?

"Don't you have glasses?" Amanda asked, looking incredibly irritated.

"No-"

"Yes" your mom said at the same time as you, "I'm gonna go get them."

"Mom, please no-" she was already gone, disappearing inside the house.

"Great" you groaned.

"Glasses? I didn't know you wear glasses?" Steve puzzled.

"Because i don't ."

Your mom quickly appeared back with the glasses and made you wear them.

You could hear the snickering of your cousins as soon as you put them on. Of course, they would make fun of you because of some stupid glasses. They were like that.

You tried to ignore the laughs as best as you could and quickly read the sentences out loud. It was already hard to focus on the words, because of the loud laughs, but feeling Steve's eyes on you didn't help at all.

Steve'd never seen you in the glasses before and honestly, somehow he thought you looked even more beautiful with them on.

"Steve..."you said his name for like third time.

" Yeah?" he broke out of his thought about you.

" It's your turn to read now" you said. You cheeks were red and Steve wondered why. Well, that was until he heard the snickering a few seats to the left from him and saw your cheeks get even more color.

"Right. Just give me a minute, i need to go grab something from the car" he was already up and inside the house. Leaving you confused.

"Where did Steve go?" your mom perplexed.

"I don't know..."

"He probably had enough of your annoying ass" Alice started laughing even louder then before and you stayed quiet. You've had enough of this dinner. You shrugged the glasses off of your face.

"Sorry, i had to go get these. I can't see a thing without them" Steve swiftly sat back next to you.

The breath hitched in your throat. Since when has Steve had glasses? And fuck, how was it possible, that they made him look even more attractive and you got to look so bad.

It seemed to shut up even your cousins, they were now gawking at him with mouths wide open.

Steve didn't seem to notice or maybe he just didn't care, that everybody was looking at him and he simply just read the words on his gift.

"Thank you so much for the dinner and the gift. I'm so glad, i could be here with you today" Steve said once he finished reading," but i'm afraid is time for me to go."

Steve stood up, bringing him up with you. At first you didn't understand what he was doing, but when you caught up you said, " Yeah mom, thank you for dinner, it was great. I'm going with Steve, we're meeting Robin at the cinema." Obviously you weren't meeting Robin at the cinema, but you'd say anything at that point to leave.

"Oh, okay. You're welcome Steve to come even next time, yeah? We're happy you could be here" your mom beamed.

"It was so so nice to meet you Steve. We could go out sometimes" Alice quipped in and Amanda nodded her head, giving yet another wink to Steve.

"I don't think we could, it was nice to meet you tho" Steve left no time for them to respond and dragged you out of there, to his car.

"Steve, that was so mean" you chuckled, after you sat down in his car and he backed the car out of your driveway.

"Yeah, well. They deserved nothing else" he shrugged his shoulders, "they were awful, i don't want to see them ever again" he chuckled, aswell.

You wished, you'd never have to see them again every single time, "Yup, me too. "

"You okay?" Steve's hand reached for yours, squeezing it gently.

"Yeah, i'm alright" you murmured, taking Steve's hand in your.

"Do you wanna stay over? We can watch some movies" he proposed, seeing through your lie immediately.

"Sure, but only if we can order pizza."

"Of course, we can. Anything you want, sweetheart" Steve said oh so softly and it had you melting.

"Thanks" you blushed at the petname, "Can i ask you something?"

Steve nodded, " What's up with the glasses? You've never worn them."

"I always forget to put them on and what about you? You've never told me about your short sight, either. "

"Steve, i've literally put in my eye contacts in front of you before. What the fuck do you mean, you didn't know?" you questioned.

"You have?"

"Yes, multiple times. "

"Oh, i guess i was always too distracted by your pretty face" he casually said. Like it was no big deal.

You were already at his house, but neither of you was moving to get out of the car.

"What?" you finally choked out.

"I said your pretty face is too distracting. And fuck, it's a whole new level, when you have the glasses on. It's like you're twice as pretty" Steve's sudden burst of confidence made him speak out loud almost every thought he had about you.

"Foreal, it was so hard not to grab your face and kiss you the moment you put them on... -"

"Steve...."

"I'm in love with you, y/n. I just have to get it off my chest and i completely understand if you don't feel the same. We can forget i ever said anything and pretend this never happened" he rambled. His anxious fidgeting made even you nervous.

"Steve!" you placed your hand on his thigh, "you should try to breath, okay? I don't want you to pass out, before i have the chance to tell you, that I feel the same" you joked.

"Wait, what? You do?" his eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah" you shyly smiled at him. Steve couldn't believe, that this was really happening.

"C-can... Can i kiss you?"

"Please" you breathed out.

Steve didn't waste any time, he leaned down to connect his lips with yours. Your lips were so soft and that made Steve kiss you more fiercely. He'd dreamed of kissing you for so many times and now that it was happening, he didn't want to ever let you go.

You slowly pulled away, making Steve pout.

"Sorry, but i'm getting cold outhere" you giggled at his scowl.

"We should go inside, so you can't make up any more excuses like this and i can finally get the kisses i want" Steve teased you.

"What makes you think, you'll get any kisses at all?"

"I think i deserve the kisses after tonight" he definitely did.

"I guess, i can give you a kiss or two" you giggled and dragged the two of you to his house.

You kept your promise, you happily gave Steve the kisses he so desperately wanted.

...

Hey guys, thank you for reading. Posting this for like 7th time, 'cause Tumblr tags hate me. Anyways, let me know what you think. Feedback is always appreciated. Also if anybody is interested in being my beta reader for Stranger things fics, dm me please.

Have a great day and stay safe everybody. Peace out ☀️

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader

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lost-inthedream · 4 years ago

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Tea and warm compress

Pairing: Husband!Youngbin x female reader

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

Warnings: mentions of sex

Words count: 1.4k

Summary: Moving to a new apartment can be quite exhaustive. There are still so many belongings to be organized... But they definitely can wait! The reader gives Youngbin some extra care because he has a backache.

Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes that you might find.

It was starting to get late, more two cups and you would be emptied that cardboard box also. The new apartment had a bunch of cupboards fixed on its walls, which allowed you to organize your kitchen tools pretty well. Youngbin sorted the dishes on the shelf right over the cups. You were both close enough to touch one another while picking items out of the boxes and putting them in their new places.

"Don't you think that's enough for today, Binnie?" you asked as you noticed him placing the last dish on the top of a small pile.

"I dunno, love. We still have a few boxes to clear out" he answered with a subtle grimace and combing his bangs back, only to have them covering his forehead again once he lowers his hand.

You glanced at the intact cardboard boxes on the corner, but by the look on your face, he knew that they didn't bother you at all.

"We have time to work on them tomorrow." You lifted one eyebrow as if it were the smarter declaration ever. "I'm sure they won't escape this apartment if we don't grab them right now."

You closed the cupboard door in front of your husband to seal your decision, drawing some words from him.

"Oh! That's my girl" he freed a weary giggle and quickly pulled you to him so he could peck anywhere on your face. A playful smooch clicked on your forehead and then he let his hand go of your back.

You stepped just a millimeter backward without breaking eye contact with him and positioned your hands on your own waist and tilting your head. Youngbin contemplated your cocky loose smile. But you somehow killed the mood when a tired sigh came out of your lips.

Moving has really drained your energy. The process of packing everything you had took so much time in the previous days, then the two of you helped at placing everything inside a truck and finally at carrying all the stuff to the apartment where you would live from now on.

He suddenly noticed the favorite mugs of yours laying on the sink countertop. The items were decorated with matching motifs that suited both of you, quite cheesy.

"What about those mugs?" he pointed with his chin.

"Ah! We're gonna use them right now. I've already found the tea." You winked.

...

"I couldn't wait to sit like this on our couch." Youngbin sighed allowing his face to express exhaustion for the first time.

He leaned backward, his head rested on the couch cushion, which was out of place just a couple of hours before. He still held the mug between his hands, laid on his lap. In any case, having his eyes closed for a while seemed to be a priority.

"Why haven't you said that you were this tired?"

"I guess I have barely noticed it" he replied in a low tone and you could say that he had just figured it out.

His body had been already screaming it to him a bit earlier but he was so absorbed in other tasks that he couldn't hear anything. It was not his fault though, he was excited. The idea of transforming the new place into your actual home was his only thought and so was yours. Even now there was a soft smile making his lips prettier than they already were.

You moved carefully towards your husband, motioning him to accept your body on his lap without pouring the hot liquid on yourselves. That was as if you did some sort of acrobatics, but you succeed together without spilling a drop and now you were close and cozy.

He took a sip and tried to shift his position a bit but the movement made him whimper in pain.

"What's this?" you immediately asked.

"It's just my back" he tried to dismiss your worry but there was an alert signal already resonating inside of you.

Youngbin took the cup to his mouth again, the warmth fulfilling his insides. The gesture was repeated a few times as you observed him closely also drinking from your own mug.

"You're gonna pierce me with your pretty eyes or what?" he joked after a few sips in silence.

You grabbed the empty mug from his hand and equilibrated it on the arm of the couch beside him, along with yours. The patterns on them facing each other, exactly the way you and your loved one did now. You leaned to touch the tip of his nose with your lips causing a snap sound. His chin raised so he could make your mouths meet. It felt sweet and wholesome, the flavor of the two herbs you mixed together slow danced with Youngbin's natural taste. You separated your lips before you were not able to do it anymore.

"It's time to take care of your back, baby". You attempted to stand up.

"I'm alright, y/n. Don't worry, just stay here with me"

He was so exhausted that his arms wrapped loosely around your frame, though it was enough to stop you from letting go of him. He was pouty, a clear sign that he needed to be taken care of. It was true that you were also worn out, but still in better conditions than Youngbin.

"I'm so sorry to have to do more than just staying here but you need a relaxing shower. I'm gonna make you a warm compress as well."

He gave you his familiar side smile as feedback.

...

You had to look for your heat pack in the boxes you had not opened yet. Fortunately, you found it quite easily, which made you sigh in relief.

Youngbin took a long shower and you managed to have the compress ready by the time he left the bathroom. He walked into your shared room barefoot. The floor still fairly cold in the spring "I have no idea of where my slippers are" he complained.

"Same, but you know what? I don't care!"

He hummed in a good mood and carefully put his lazy body on the bed, lying on his stomach and turning his face to the right side, so his cheek got squished against the mattress. You comforted him with a delicate caress on the shoulder that got his eyes to close, like those smart flowers that shut for the nighttime.

"It hurts on your low back, right?"

He grunted positively, eyelids fluttering.

The compress was too hot to touch his skin directly so you used the soft cotton of his t-shirt as a barrier. Since it was now settled down on his back, his movements were restricted and you both did not have much to do other than talk. You did not do more than staying comfortably sitting at his right.

"Aren't you hurting too, love?" he asked reopening his eyes. His sleepy yet charming gaze inviting you to trace his facial features.

"Just from seeing you in pain," you replied seductively. "I didn't carry any heavy box because you're such a gentleman."

He did not know how to respond so he sweetly voiced an "I love you" while your warm hand caressed him on the face.

You shifted to lean down and whisper the same close to his ear, then you could not resist the urge to sniff on his neck. The fresh scent of his soap enchanted you, making you down your eyelids to the friction your nose made on him.

"You shouldn't provoke a man in my condition"

"Is this a complaint or a warning?" you asked playfully letting your lips brush on his earlobe on purpose.

"This is only a complaint tonight. I'm good at waiting."

You dragged one finger down his spine. A sloppy invisible line, coming to an end when it reached the compress.

"I can't wait" you signed.

"Can you move it a bit, baby?. It's like burning my skin" he politely asked interrupting the way your talk was growing steamy.

You took the pack from his low back and placed your hand flat instead, stroking the area tenderly for a few seconds.

"I'm probably waking up better tomorrow and I'm treating you right then. Like the queen you are."

"Don't worry, my king" you said low feeling funny with those words. you calmly unfolded a towel that laid next to you in order to make a new layer between Youngbin's skin and the hot pack. "We have a lot of time to make love in our new apartment. Or should I call it a kingdom?"

He giggled.

"Just home is fine" you decided.

#sf9 scenarios #sf9 imagines #sf9 writings #kpop writings #sf9 fanfic #sf9 fluff #sf9 smut #youngbin scenario #youngbin imagine #youngbin fluff #youngbin smut

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mona-rei-is-not-okay · 7 years ago

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Heya. I'm the sibling asker ! H/s = honorary sibling. Hope you're doing fine

i love deep friendship gimme gimme

and there are NO MAYBES YOU WILL HAVE THE BONUS BOY ALWAYS especially with cute asks like these omg i love

i don’t know too much about MT!Paps though, so i’m sorry if my interpretation is a lil wonky. also h/s is teen, sorry if it isn’t apparent

UF!Sans: He’s really concerned about your low mood spell, but isn’t really sure what to do about it. As much as he relates to your apparent anxieties, he doesn’t know what to do to make you feel better. He’s not usually good at comforting words. What he will do is check in a lot. Make sure you’re generally doin okay and have everything you need. Again, if you need to vent, he’ll listen.

But he really doesn’t get why the cuddles make such a difference. Sure, he’s become a bit of a cuddlebug himself, but the way you completely relax like that? Unnatural. Especially since it’s the only thing that seems to be cheering you up. But then again, who is he to question what works? He won’t exactly cling to you from then on, but he’ll start following you around the house a bit more, snagging every cuddle opportunity. It’s still a little weird, but it’s a lot better than seeing his kid sibling all skittish. Eventually though, curiosity gets the better of him, and he just has to ask.

And your answer?

Congratulations, you have floored your big bro. Beet red in the face. Absolutely no composure. What did he do to deserve your trust?? Why are you so sweet?? Aaaaaah?!? He pets your head and tries not to let you hear his wheezing, but it’s obvious, he’s really moved and has no idea how to deal with it.

“h-heh… watch where yer aimin’ that sweetness, kiddo… i’m gettin’ a toothache… jeez…”

Anyway, was he tailing you before? Welp, now he’s become your guard dog. It doesn’t matter where you’re going, he’s comin’ with you.He’ll always be by your side, gently holding your arm and keeping his head on a swivel for shifty characters. If you ever need to navigate a crowd or a tight space, he’ll usher you behind him and get you to grab the fluff of his hood while he leads the way. He can’t exactly follow you to school, but he’ll shortcut to walk you between classes if you let him. Your teachers hate him. He’ll stop following you everywhere if you fend him off with a stick, but until your mood improves… well, he’s your personal escort now, deal with it

UF!Papyrus: He’s always wanted a little sibling. He loves helping people, and shows love through physical care.He’s a bit of a mother hen. It’s part of why he took in his cat, Doomfanger. To him, you are an absolute blessing.

So he’s already got some huge maternal instincts, but your mood has got him sent into overdrive. He’ll always be asking you if you need anything, fixing you comfort snacks, asking if you need help with homework, doing a chore or cleaning a room so you don’t have to. It might feel naggy or get a little overwhelming, and he’ll dial it back if you tell him to, but his first instinct will always be to take care of possible stress sources directly. It helps him feel better, too.

So when you settle down to cuddle and just… completely deflate, he asks about it immediately. He must know. He must help.

And when you answer…

His face is deep maroon. If anybody else had said that, he would have dismissed it. But coming from you? Wowie. He feels like he’s succeeded as a caretaker. He’s about ready to squeal with joy, but he contains himself. Smiling from ear to nonexistent ear, he loops an arm behind you and pulls you closer. He tries to mask his joy with a confident air, but the grin betrays him.

“WELL! THAT’S… PERFECTLY NATURAL!! AS THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS HAS TAKEN YOU UNDER HIS PROTECTION!!!”

From then on, every time he starts an activity or chore, you’re invited. Help him put away groceries! Help him do laundry! Help him cook! Also, if you accompany him on errands, hand-holding is required.

“I HAVE TO KEEP TRACK OF YOU SOMEHOW! STOP GIGGLING!”

He just wants to make sure you feel safe. Even if it means walking you to and from school, fixing you lunches with positive sticky notes in the bag, and taking you with him everywhere he goes. It’s not cute!

MT!Sans: He’s not around as much as either of you would like, but he knows you’re feeling down. He remembers seeing his brother with such a similar look on his face. Young fool that Sans was, he started taking him with on small jobs to keep him company. And now Pappy deals in some of the same dirty business he does. He’s promised himself not to make the same mistake with you.

He does his best to help you take it in stride while he’s around, but he knows there’s only so much he can do. He feels a twinge of guilt every time he has to leave you in that state. He knows it probably doesn’t have much to do with him, but he feels responsible. Maybe if he were around more, or even just in a safer profession, you wouldn’t seem so worried all the time.

Cuddles are solace for both of you. He gets to relax and feel like he’s doing something, and you don’t seem half as rigid. Smiles all around! He already sort of knows why you relax so easily in his arms, or thinks he does, but he feels he should still make sure.

And…

Well, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but he can’t keep his grin from widening a touch. You’re the light of his life, you know that? Honestly, what did he do to deserve you? But the guilt sets back in. No wonder you’ve been feeling down… he’s been particularly busy lately, and he really should make more time for you. And if you didn’t normally feel safe, whose fault is that? Well�� nobody feels safe in this part of town.

“well…” He’ll plant a small kiss on the top of your head. “take it easy, kiddo. i promise, someday, we’ll all get the hell outta here.”

He’ll get somebody to watch the house while he’s gone. He knows he can’t be there all the time, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t know you aren’t safe. He’ll call you more often to check in, too. Also… he’ll start putting a little extra away, start saving for a little vacation. Maybe some time out of town will do all of you some good. You’re family, and he’ll take care of you no matter the risk or cost.

MT!Papyrus: He’s around more than Sans is, thankfully. He sticks around to fix you meals and offer cuddles and make sure the house is safe. It’s given him plenty of time to notice one of his favorite siblings’ low mood.

He does his best to help out in indirect ways, checking the house for wires and cameras and sweeping the perimeter every so often. He knows this helps with his brother sometimes, when he gets paranoid. But he isn’t sure that’s your problem. He feels a little lost, but is upbeat as ever. He has to set a good example after all.

He most likely won’t ask about the cuddles for a while. He’s more concerned with what more he can do to make you comfortable, and if this works, it works. Besides- openly nosy folk are seldom rewarded in his line of business. Eventually though, he’ll push back the instinct. He trusts you, and this could make a lot of difference in helping you cheer up.

And when you tell him…

He’s beaming at you with such genuine joy, he looks like he might just start crying. Just… wowie! He doesn’t really understand why you’d feel that way, he’s only decent in crisis situations, but the fact that you really trust him that much? Well, it’s not something he gets a lot of. He must be doing something right if you feel this way.

He’ll rest his chin on your head and give you a hearty squeeze. “WELL! I SUPPOSE!! YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO STAY IN THIS HUG!!! FOREVER!!!!”

He won’t move for a while, get used to him, he lives there now. From then on, he’ll start taking every opportunity to come home early and see you. He’ll ask you to cook with him, he’ll ask you to read to him, he’d even try to sneak you with him on jobs if Sans didn’t always seem to stop you. He tries to be around the house more in general, he wants his little sibling to know that he’s always around if you need him.

HT!Sans: He understands your mood all too well. He’s been through plenty of periods of fear and depressive episodes in his day, and he knows how it feels. Sometime he feels like the only way he can perceive the world is either through an all-consuming fog or with painful knife-point precision. But it’s hard for him to think back to what he wanted during more desperate times. Food? Safety? He’s pretty sure you’ve got those covered already. Maybe your head just acts up a little sometimes, like his.

He’ll make sure you have everything you need, regardless. You hungry? Tired? He’ll take care of it, just you relax. If you need to talk, he may not understand or remember everything you say, but he’ll do his best to offer comfort.

It doesn’t quite register how much you relax when you cuddle him, not for a while. He can be a little slow sometimes. He’ll get it eventually though, and he’ll ask about it. This seems important, had he asked before?

And what you tell him…

It almost brings a tear to his eye. He may have a trauma-induced forgetful streak, but he remembers a lot of things. He remembers a lot of nasty, horrible things. He remembers the taste of human flesh. He remembers the strain of keeping his guard up at all times. He remembers watching his brother slip away.

But you? You’ve been his second chance. You gave him the opportunity to make things right with himself. A sibling he didn’t have to fail. He most definitely felt he didn’t deserve you or your trust... after all, he had eaten people like you without a second thought. But you gave your trust just as freely.

“heh…” He ruffles your hair. “hope that works out for ya.”

He’ll do his best to be available for cuddles (not that he has much to keep him away) and he’ll try to take you with him if he has to go somewhere. He always makes an effort to ask about your day, if anything bad happened, if anything good happened. He doesn’t feel like he can do much, but he’ll do what he can to make things easier on you.

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spicycreativity · 4 years ago

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A Place Where I Can Breathe - Ch 2

Chapter: 2/7 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: Brief depiction of light dissociation Excerpt: Roman had already transformed the living room: metallic streamers of purple and black stretched across the corners of the ceiling, and shiny balloons spelling out A-N-X-E-I-T-Y hovered above the TV. "Uh, Princey?" Virgil said, tilting his head at them, but Roman wasn't listening. "Don't tell him," Logan advised, shoving down his own annoyance at the error.

Virgil peeled another poster off the wall and laid it down on his bare mattress. Without the sticky tack pinning it flat, it rolled itself back up into a tube shape. Quietly singing along to the music blasting from his speakers, Virgil adjusted it and rolled a purple rubber band down to its center. Then he put it with the rest of his posters, in an open-topped cardboard box exactly identical to the ones he’d been imagining up as necessary. The weight of his newly blank walls bore down on him hard and he chewed absentmindedly at his thumbnail before catching himself. He clenched his hands into fists instead and worried at his lower lip as he surveyed what was left of his room.

It would have been faster and easier to ask Roman for an assist. He could have had Virgil’s entire room moved (and renovated) in less time than it took him to wave his hands. And he would wave his hands, and give a self-aggrandizing little speech, and hold it over Virgil’s head until he found something else to congratulate himself for.

So, no, despite their fledgling alliance, despite the direct invitation, Virgil wouldn’t be asking Roman for favors anytime soon. And besides (not that he would ever admit it out loud), there was something undeniably grounding, something real, about doing the work with his hands. He just hoped his empty room would take the hint and follow him upstairs.

As he worked, he became aware of eyes on him. It was a slow dawning, an uncomfortable tingle in his spine that morphed into a full-body itch. Spite kept him from turning to look, focused on packing away the meager contents of his closet. He knew that Janus would come, and he was determined to not care. Let him face the consequences of his actions for once in his life.

From the doorway, Janus watched. He watched Virgil reverently fold imaginary band tees he would never have the courage to wear. He watched Virgil ignore him. He watched Virgil prepare to forsake the only family he had ever known.

The uneasy stalemate grew more tense by the second until they were both buckling under the weight of words unsaid.

It was Janus who broke first. Where the embers of Virgil's anger could smolder endlessly in his chest, Janus' temper reared up at the slightest provocation and struck with its fangs, and would not be satisfied until the threat was gone. "Tell me you didn't actually buy that little 'family' act."

Virgil's knuckles went white around the Paramore shirt he'd been folding. If Janus had come to patch things up, he was making a mess of it. "There's nothing to buy. They're not liars upstairs." He didn’t need to add ‘unlike here ;’ it went both unsaid and mutually understood.

Janus narrowed his eyes and doubled down in his attempt to make Virgil catch his meaning. "It's awfully sweet that you want to think that, but let's not forget that your precious Patton is the whole reason you're down here with the rejects in the first place."

"Yeah? Well, he’s also the main reason I’m heading up now.” Virgil resumed folding up his shirt. There was no sense in letting Janus upset him, not when it was Virgil who had the upper hand. He had made his decision.

"Yes, and I’m sure he and Roman weren't just being nice to spare their own feelings.”

Virgil was quiet for a long moment, methodically re-folding the shirt and placing it into the box with the others. "Would it kill you to just be happy for me?" he demanded, turning back to his closet without sparing so much as a glance at Janus. He stared at the few remaining shirts without really seeing them, heart hammering against his ribcage. He had been hoping to slip out quietly and let Janus cool down. Despite last night’s tension, he really hadn't intended to burn any bridges. But since Janus was being so generous with the kerosene…

In the doorway, Janus straightened. He dropped his hands to his sides, staring at Virgil like he'd never seen him before. Something uncomfortably like defeat crawled up his spine. "So you really think this is going to end well for you?" It went against his nature to speak plainly; even now the truth metamorphosed painfully on his tongue, becoming a venom-drenched mockery of itself.

Virgil had never liked the process of drawing the truth out of Janus. It always involved effort on one of their parts, and too often Virgil was the one left untangling the knots when Janus was the one who had tied them. He was just about sick of it. So he left the truth raveled up inside Janus' words and grabbed a shirt at random from his closet. "Yeah. I do."

Janus faltered and went still. Virgil could see it out of the corner of his eye, and the sick sense of satisfaction made him smirk. He really was tired of the eternal chess match that came with talking to Janus and it felt good to score a point for himself.

When Janus felt cornered, he struck. But this ? Virgil hadn't cornered him, he'd boxed him in . There was nothing to strike at. Just blank white walls and the chemical odor of lighter fluid.

For a moment, there was no sound but Virgil's music. Virgil imagined another T-shirt to fold. MCR. Long sleeves. Soft jersey under his hands.

Janus knew perfectly well what Virgil wanted from him. But courage wasn't in his function; neither was vulnerability. He stood still in the doorway. No motion but the rise and fall of his chest, the twitch of his irises as he watched Virgil tape up his box of T-shirts. It should have been an easy choice: his pride for Virgil's friendship. But the scales pitched and swung and refused to balance, and Janus was silent.

"Tell me why you came here," Virgil dared him, searching for yet another reason to not look Janus in the eye. He settled for imagining a Sharpie so he could label his boxes.

Janus was silent.

"I know you wanted something."

Silent.

"Say it."

Silent.

"Then go."

Silent.

Janus turned on his heel and walked away. Resentment bloomed in his chest. Virgil had gone for a weak spot on purpose, had set Janus up to lose one of two things he held dear. Let him leave, then. If it turned out to be a mistake, they would find out soon enough. And if it didn't, well…

At least Janus had his pride.

Virgil scoffed at the sight of Janus slinking away like a cat, head high and shoulders back.

Virgil had never expected to lose Janus, but he supposed it did make sense that things would end this way: not with the cheap words he threw around like a high-roller's banknotes, but with a chill and deadly silence.

"Whatever," Virgil said to no one. He picked up one of his boxes and headed for the stairs.

Janus was nowhere to be found; Virgil figured he was probably sulking in his room with the lights off, plucking at threads that would never hold knots.

That, or planning some sort of revenge. Virgil tried not to shudder. After all, there wasn't really anything Janus could do to him, not when Virgil had this much conviction in his decision. Janus preyed on insecurities, driving wedges of doubts into the cracks that already existed in the foundations of long-held beliefs. And Virgil had allowed himself no doubts. Not today. Not about this.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Remus on the stairs.

Remus had been making no effort to hide, but, realizing that Virgil was going to pass by without noticing him, sprang forward to block his path. "Boo!"

"Fuck!" Virgil flinched and pulled the box in tighter to his chest. He glared at Remus and took in a few deep breaths, leaning against the bannister while he waited for his head to stop spinning. "What was that for?"

"Take a wild guess, Little Boy Boohoo." Remus slapped the top of the box just hard enough to make the contents shift and rattle, rage boiling in his chest. "Y'know, when you said you got Raptured, I didn't think you'd actually go through with it."

"Remus, come on." Sadness ached in the back of Virgil's throat. He hadn't wanted this. For all that Janus and Remus had teased him about spending time upstairs, he hadn't expected this kind of anger from either of them, was still reeling from their unabashed hostility. They were friends . Well. They used to be.

"Cum on what?" Remus asked, leaning in. "Your face? Your tits?" Fire blazed in his eyes and he made no effort to quell it; he wanted Virgil scared . It served him right for picking Roman.

Virgil seemed to read his mind. "You know I'm not choosing them over you guys, I just-- I can be friends with all of you. I can help. ”

"No," Remus said, meaning every word of it. "You can't."

Virgil squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, forcing down his doubts. "But you guys are the ones making me choose. I-- Look, I'm sure if I told them how much you mean to me--"

"They'd start inviting us up for tea and orgies?" Remus bared his teeth. "Face it, Virgil. They want to change us just like they changed you," he bit the air in front of Virgil's face, "into a toothless little lap dog. And the second you stop playing by their rules, it's back in the dungeon with the rest of us wolves. And you know what wolves get: Dark screens and pens out of ink and knots that won't stay tied."

"Maybe I don't like being a wolf," Virgil said, sticking with the metaphor out of habit. It usually made Remus happy to have his ideas acknowledged. "Maybe I'm changing for my own sake."

Remus sneered at him, aiming to wound. "Patton must give really good head."

"Get out of my way," Virgil said, fury burning cold in his lungs. "I'll be back down soon for the rest of my stuff."

Remus stepped aside, but planted his boot on the railing opposite the wall before Virgil could take so much as a single step. Nothing about Remus could be repressed or contained, not his anger, not his glee, not even his sadness. It escaped now, despite his best efforts to get a leash on it. "I just never thought it would be you."

"What do you mean?" Virgil asked, studying Remus' wistful face. His heart gave a dangerous lurch. "Actually? I don't care. Move."

Remus let his boot drop with a heavy thud, forcing Virgil to step over it. "You're making a mistaaaake," he called after Virgil, pitching his voice up in a shrill sing-song lilt. A parting gift to the traitor.

Virgil winced, but kept walking. If he was making a mistake, at least it was his mistake to make.

At the top of the stairs, he batted at the doorknob until it turned enough to allow him to fall through the door. He kicked it shut behind him and paused to catch his breath.

Then Roman popped up from the couch, sweeping a hand through his hair. "Hey there, 5 Seconds of Bummer."

"Jesus!" Virgil jumped and fell back against the wall, chest aching.

"Careful, don't let Elder Patton hear you say that. What's with the box?" Roman looked Virgil up and down, examining the coal black eyeshadow and the way he cowered against the wall. Whatever he was doing, he seemed unharmed, if a little freaked out. Not that that was unusual.

"I'm moving," Virgil said, only just managing to hold back a sarcastic ' genius .'

"Really?" Roman's smile was so bright it was almost dazzling. "Say no more!" He straightened, puffing out his chest. "Let's see, where should we put you?" He paused, drawing mental pictures. "By Logan, I think. Right across from yours truly.”

Virgil squinted at him, but he realized Roman’s intent a moment too late. "Oh, I don't--"

"Shh." Roman focused on his desired effect, pictured Virgil's room and all its contents moving upstairs. He would have a bright purple door with a black iron door knob. Oh, and a little 'keep out' sign with a skull on it. And a new bedspread with purple patches, to match his hoodie. And of course, he couldn't forget Virgil's actual possessions (whatever they were) right where they were supposed to be. "There!"

Virgil ducked his head and raised his eyebrows, dropping his hands to his sides now that he had no box to hold up. He almost mourned the loss of it, the comforting weight on his chest. "'There'?" he repeated.

Roman beamed at him. "I moved your room for you!" Virgil opened his mouth, Roman assumed to complain about his precious privacy or whatever, so Roman raised a hand to stop him. "Now, now, no need to thank me." He paused, thinking it over, and regretted his choice of words. "No, wait, do."

"Uh, how about I hold off on that until I actually see my room?" Virgil stared expectantly at Roman, who bounced on his toes. "Lead on, Macduff."

"That's not the line and you know it," Roman complained, but he turned to lead Virgil to his room. "It's ' lay on, Macduff,' and--"

"Yeah, yeah," Virgil interrupted, already regretting his teasing. "And then they fight."

"Don't tempt me, " Roman said. Then he winced. "Ah, like, friendly fighting! Between bros! Good, old-fashioned, manly sword fighting between two dudes…" He paused to take a breath, faltering, hoping for a rescue that did not come, "who are friends. Friendly sword dudes." He cleared his throat and repeated, "Friendly sword dudes."

Behind him, Virgil smiled. For all his boasting, Roman really was trying to be more pleasant. Maybe Virgil should try to extend a hand as well. Unfortunately, "Sure," was all he could manage.

He followed Roman across the living room and up another set of stairs until they came upon a long corridor lined on either side with doors. "It's like a hotel," Virgil observed.

"Go in already." Roman nudged Virgil with his hip.

Virgil resisted the urge to smack him, reminding himself that Roman wouldn't know he was just playing. Instead, he shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and walked down the hallway to his door. "It's purple."

"Oh, good, you're not colorblind."

"Was that a big concern for you?" Virgil didn't wait for a response before pulling the door open and examining his room. Everything seemed fine, from his band posters to his pet spider in its terrarium. Everything aside from the bedspread.

Roman kept glancing between it and Virgil, wiggling in excitement. "Well?"

"Um, yeah." Virgil forced a smile. "It looks nice. Thanks, Princey. I, uh. I like the purple."

"I knew you would!" Roman gave himself a round of applause and pushed past Virgil, throwing himself down on the bed. "Come feel. The purple patches are fleece."

"Okay…" Virgil crossed the room, trying not to look as tense as he felt. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and put his hand down on the fleece, mind frustratingly blank. "Yeah, that's soft."

Roman nodded in satisfaction. "So," he said, "how does it feel?"

"...Soft?" Virgil repeated, flicking his eyes to Roman's face for just a moment.

"Not the comforter." Roman sighed. "Your great escape! You're finally free from Bialysnake and Doom."

Virgil tilted his head. "Not your best work," he said, mostly to avoid answering the question.

"Oh, everyone's a critic." Roman examined his nails. "But come on, doesn't it feel better to know you won't have to deal with those freaks anymore? I can't even imagine how you made it this long, and that's saying a lot for me. Thank goodness you let us rescue you."

Virgil forced back the instinctive wave of anger that Roman would talk about his friends that way. They weren ' t friends anymore. And maybe it would feel good to vent a little. "I'm glad to be gone," Virgil said with conviction, imagining Janus and Remus listening at the door. "It's gonna be really nice not having to deal with all the mind games and, and random tangents and… weird communication problems."

"Go, Virgil!" Roman said, a little surprised at Virgil's candor. "That really must have been Hell for you."

Virgil, as a rule, avoided lying. Even white lies made him feel sick and panicky. But for just one incandescent moment, he lost control of his temper and let the bonfire blaze in his chest and the smoke pour out of his mouth. "Yeah." If he said it out loud, maybe he could make himself believe it. Maybe he could crush the remaining ache of betrayal, the longing for his friends. "It was Hell. I'm not going to miss them at all."

Roman gave a low whistle "I'm glad we got you out of there."

"Lucky me." Virgil rubbed his fingertips along a patch of fleece as guilt, cloying and viscous, lapped at the back of his throat.

It was funny, he thought, reflecting on the look of earnest conviction in Roman's eyes. When Janus said that 3 plus 3 equaled 7, he was getting at something. When Roman said that 3 plus 3 equaled 7, he believed it. That could be a dangerous combination someday. Maybe it was better like this. Now Virgil was in a better position to keep Roman and the others safe from whatever vengeance Janus and Remus might choose to inflict upon them.

"Hey," said Virgil, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Maybe we should get out of here. Y'know, before you go all--"

"Fright Night?" Roman frowned, bored with the idea. "That's so last episode. Can't you just turn it off?" Almost to himself, he muttered, "A nifty little Roman trick."

"Turn off my anxiety?" Virgil repeated, incredulous.

"No, no, of course not." Roman waved a hand to dismiss the idea. "Just make your room a little less kooky, spooky, and ooky." He snapped his fingers twice.

"No?" said Virgil.

"Let's see." Roman indicated the switch on the wall he had just dreamed up. "Go ahead. Pull the lever, Anxiety!"

Virgil rolled his eyes. "It's not a lever."

"I could make it a lever," Roman said, a touch petulant. "A long one, too, so you can walk into it and jab yourself right in the ribs every time you try to turn the lights on."

"Alright, I get it," Virgil put up his hands placatingly. "I'm sorry I talked bad about your anxiety lightswitch." He got to his feet and flipped the switch, all the while staring expectantly at Roman. "Feel anything?"

"Profoundly unchanged." Roman stood up as well and rocked forward onto his toes. "Ah, well. I guess I wasn't in here long enough to tell the difference. Suppose that's why we leave the nerdy science stuff to the Great Logician."

“Where are the others, anyway?” Virgil asked, longing for an escape from one-on-one conversation. His nerves were already starting to fray.

“I don’t know.” Roman leaned against the wall and fidgeted with one of Virgil’s decorative spiderwebs. “Logan’s probably holed up in his room making a spreadsheet of Thomas’ vitamin deficiencies or something equally as boring.”

“And Patton?”

“I don’t know, man, it’s not like I keep them under surveillance.” Roman rolled his eyes, annoyed with the questioning. "I suppose I should summon them up to say hello." He gave Virgil a sidelong glance.

Virgil shrugged. "I don't really care either way, to be honest. But maybe don't bother them if they're busy "

Roman wasn't listening. "Let's see, probably shouldn't do it in your room… To the hallway!" He bounded out the door leaving Virgil to follow him at a shuffle.

It was fine, Virgil had to keep reminding himself. Roman meant well, and maybe his antics would keep Patton from rolling out the welcome wagon. The thought of special treatment made Virgil's toes curl. Just because he didn't want to be insulted all the time didn't mean he needed to be babie d.

Roman's voice cut through the noise in Virgil's head and he planted his hands on his hips. "You're not listening to me at all, are you?"

Virgil gave a fake smile. "I got caught up in the sound of your voice."

"Hm, well." Roman sniffed, playing the part. "My talents are wasted on buzzkill philistines." He paused. "Buzzkill-istines."

Virgil only made a face, so Roman sighed and brought up his arms to summon Patton and Logan, proclaiming as he did so, "Look who I rescued from the dungeon!"

"Hey," said Virgil, bristling, but the chaos was already underway.

"Yay!" Patton threw his arms out wide. "It's Anxiety!"

"You never say 'yay,' when I come around,” Roman complained.

"Hi, Patton," Virgil said, not wanting to be rude.

Logan chimed in, "Roman, it would be incredibly disruptive if Patton said 'yay' every time you entered a shared space--"

"I didn't ask for a read , you pirated nerd processor. I'm just saying a little appreciation would be nice."

"Anxiety is our guest !"

Patton still had his arms out. Virgil caught his eye. "Was that-- Is that for a hug or…?"

"Only if you want one!" Patton said.

Roman threw his hands up in frustration. "It's like I'm not even here! You never offer me hugs."

"If you are referring to Patton, he hugged you three times yesterday by my count." Logan paused and pushed up his glasses. "Possibly more times than that, if I wasn't present to witness them."

"Aw, Roman, did you want a hug, too? Group hug?"

"I would prefer not to--"

"No, no, that's quite alright."

"Does anybody want a hug? 'Cause my arms are getting tired."

" I don't," Roman said, obviously pouting.

Virgil pressed his fingertips to his forehead, exasperated. Then he stepped away from Roman and let Patton hug him like he obviously wanted to.

It was hard for Virgil to not shudder at the sudden heat and weight on him. With his senses already open and taking in more information than his brain seemed to want to process, touch was an added stressor, more unwanted sensory input.

But it was important to Patton, and his voice was genuine when he said, "Thank you."

"Ugh, enough already!" Roman said, dropping his arms so he could cross them again. "Isn't anyone going to congratulate me for rescuing our dark-and-stormy damsel?"

Virgil seized upon the opportunity to slip out of Patton's arms and step a healthy distance away. "I'm sorry, which part was the rescue? Was it the part where you ambushed me in the living room and took my stuff?"

"Roman, it's not nice to take what doesn't belong to you," Patton said.

"No, Padre. Ugh." Roman groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "I helped him move all his stuff."

"That does explain the new violet variance," Logan said, nodding at Virgil's door.

Roman muttered, "That doesn't make sense; you just wanted an excuse to use alliteration," but it was barely audible under the sound of Patton screeching in delight.

"Uh," said Virgil, wide-eyed. "How long do you think he's gonna go?"

"Three," said Logan, unphased.

"What?"

"Two."

"And one," Roman said.

Patton drew in a deep breath. "Kiddo! You're gonna live with us now?"

"Yep," Virgil said, ducking his head.

"This is so exciting! We have to celebrate!"

"We really don't," Virgil muttered, backing into the wall. The last thing he wanted was--

"A party!" Roman said, driving his fist into his open palm. If he couldn't be the object of adoration, then he could at least be in charge of something.

Virgil sighed, swallowing back a swear. He suddenly longed for the safe familiarity of Janus' gentle taunts and Remus' wild-eyed enthusiasm. He had grown so used to people knowing his limits, to having his needs anticipated and boundaries accounted for.

It crossed his mind to flee, to run back down the stairs into the basement with apologies on his lips. At least his old demons were familiar ones. He knew how to handle it when Remus got too wild or when Janus got sulky and jealous. And the ache, the ache of being so cruel, well, he knew how to ride that out too.

What Virgil did not know how to handle was the rambunctious enthusiasm of three (well, two) optimists who were far too excited about being his friends.

Oh.

Realization and guilt slammed into Virgil's chest, a flying tackle of empathy. All Patton and Roman wanted to do was be his friends, and Virgil had the nerve to be put off by it.

He shook himself and tuned back into the conversation just in time for Roman to address him directly, "And you just have to sit there and look pretty." A beat. "Pretty scary." Patton turned his disapproving gaze on Roman, who was already in the process of trying to extricate his foot from his mouth. "Ah, um, pretty… scarily… pretty . Because it scares us… how pretty you look."

Virgil decided to let that one go as a show of goodwill. "...Thanks."

"Yep," Roman said, utterly failing to stick the landing. "Anyway, enough talk! We have festivities to attend to!"

He sank out, and Patton after him, until it was just Virgil and Logan in the hall.

"I do not understand him," Logan admitted.

Virgil just shook his head, privately wondering if the same placating behavior that worked on Remus would work on Roman too. "Just go with it, I guess."

Logan nodded. "Before we join the others, I did want to tell you: Please do not hesitate to ask if there's something I can help you with."

"Hesitating is the name of my game," Virgil said, misunderstanding.

Logan adjusted his glasses, hiding his confusion behind his hand. "Perhaps that was a poor choice of words. I only meant that--"

It clicked for Virgil. "I get it, Logan. Thank you."

"You are welcome, Anxiety. I believe your presence here will be of benefit to us all." Logan sank out, studiously avoiding eye contact.

Virgil sank out after him, suddenly terrified at the idea of being alone with his thoughts.

Roman had already transformed the living room: metallic streamers of purple and black stretched across the corners of the ceiling, and shiny balloons spelling out A-N-X-E-I-T-Y hovered above the TV.

"Uh, Princey?" Virgil said, tilting his head at them, but Roman wasn't listening.

"Don't tell him," Logan advised, shoving down his own annoyance at the error.

"Just go with it," Virgil repeated, a reminder for the both of them.

"Took you two long enough!" Roman shouted from the kitchen. "Professor Necktie, get in here and help Patton with the measuring cups."

"I got it!" Patton exclaimed. "A third of a cup and a fourth of a cup are pretty much the same thing, right?"

"Oh," said Logan, already in motion. "No."

"What about me?" Virgil asked.

Roman popped his head through the kitchen doorway, nearly knocking into Logan. "I already told you, Sweet Coraline--"

"Da, da, da," Patton chimed in.

"--just sit there and look--"

"Scary."

"Is it Interrupt Roman Day?" Roman threw his head back and rolled his eyes.

"No," said Logan, before realizing the question was rhetorical.

"Wait," said Virgil, "So I'm just supposed to sit by myself in the living room while you guys…" He tried to remember what Roman had said before, but he really hadn't been listening.

"While I bake and Patton tries to drink vanilla extract," Logan said.

There was a sound suspiciously like a small plastic bottle hitting a formica countertop. "Uh, Roman, why don't you keep Virgil company?" Patton suggested. "You know what they say about too many cooks. Or… bakers, I guess."

"What do they say?"

"I don't remember! You'll have to chef back with me later."

Virgil winced. Roman shot him a commiserating look. "Fine, I guess we can both sit and look pretty. Comes naturally to me anyway."

"Great," Virgil said.

"Well, Simple Plan, do you want anything to drink while I'm up?"

"'Simple Plan'?" Virgil repeated, confused. "That one wasn't even a real nickname, you just named an emo band."

"Look, I can't be on all the time." Roman made a face. "Do you want a drink or not?"

"Could I have a coffee?"

"Coffee?" Roman stared at him. "It's 2:00 pm!"

"Oh, so there's a wrong answer?"

"Alright, alright. How do you take it?"

"With milk."

Roman nodded. "How much?"

"What?"

"How much milk?"

"I don't know, I don't measure it out," Virgil tried to keep the incredulous look off his face but couldn't quite manage it. "Just, y'know, with milk."

" How much milk, Virgil?"

"I don't know!" Virgil put up his hands. "Until it's a nice beige color."

"How beige?"

"What do you mean 'how beige'? Beige is beige!"

"Alright, fine," Roman huffed. "But you're not allowed to complain if it's wrong."

"Deal," Virgil said, nodding.

Roman turned to go back in the kitchen and Virgil threw himself down on the couch with a huff. Roman got wound up about the weirdest things.

Unlike Virgil, who only got wound up about normal things, like if the person at the door was really the pizza delivery person, or if they were secretly an assassin sent to kill Thomas.

Reasonable fears.

Virgil ran his hands down his face and sighed. Despite his earlier desire to be alone, and despite the reassuring sounds of controlled chaos from the kitchen, doubt crept into the corners of his mind.

He bounced his leg and tried not to look at the door to the basement. The living room and kitchen were technically common areas, even if the so-called 'Dark' sides usually kept clear of them.

Janus or Remus could burst in at any second and ruin everything. Roman, at least, seemed to be under the impression that Virgil had hated every waking moment as a Dark Side. If he ever found out that they had been friends...

Virgil forced himself to take several deep breaths. Everything would be fine. Roman, Logan, and Patton were his friends , and they wouldn't judge him for how he had acted before.

...Unless they did .

"Coffee!" Roman said, barreling into the living room with far too much confidence for someone holding a full coffee mug.

"Jeeze!" Virgil jumped and clutched at his chest, his pulse hammering against his hands. "Stop doing that!"

"Stop entering rooms?" Roman said sarcastically. He sat down next to Virgil on the couch and set a coffee mug on a mismatched saucer down on the coffee table. "There."

"Thanks," Virgil said. He thought about teasing Roman for having made it the wrong shade of beige, but decided against it. They were still getting used to each other and Virgil didn't know how far he could push without hurting Roman's feelings. "What about you?"

Roman held out his hand and he was suddenly holding a champagne flute full of sparkling water. "Don't you worry about me."

There was a crash from the kitchen, followed by a blithe "oops!" from Patton and a long sigh from Logan.

"How about them?" Virgil asked. "Can I worry about them ?"

Roman waved a hand and sat back. "I guess worrying is your job."

"Yep," said Virgil, glancing again at the basement door.

They fell silent for a moment, but Roman was never one to leave an awkward silence untouched. "So, what do you usually do for fun? Or was it more of a Cinderella situation?"

"You really think I'd take that kind of treatment lying down?" Virgil asked.

"Okay, so, what? Do you practice your eyeshadow for hours on end? Write angsty poetry?"

Virgil sighed, thinking about all the things he couldn't give away. "I mean, I guess I listen to music?"

"That's a great idea!" Roman said, a little too quickly and loudly. He waved his hand at the TV. "Go… Plug your phone into that, make it do the thing."

Virgil got up and began fumbling with the assorted wires at the back of the TV. "Are you sure? It's not exactly party music."

"Well, it's your party." Roman smiled. "You call the shots. And…" He hesitated, embarrassed. "Well, you know. We appreciate you, scary screamo-emo music and all."

After a fair amount of fiddling with the remote and plugging random cords into random sockets, Virgil finally got his phone hooked up to the TV.

"There!" Roman said happily, flashing his teeth again. " Now it's a party!"

Virgil sat back down on the couch and tried to make a pleasant face back. He had hoped that the music would make him feel more at ease, but all it did was bring back painful memories of bass filtering down into the basement, of complaining with Remus and Janus about their upstairs compatriots' taste in music.

Even now, the bass crawled into him and buzzed painfully against his bones, vibrating in his skull. With his heart already racing from the caffeine, the throb in his chest became almost painful. Virgil stared, wide-eyed, at the floor trying to keep his breathing in check. If he could just focus on what Roman was saying…

What was Roman saying? Virgil watched his lips move, but all he could hear was the thrum of the bass. Was this even real?

It took Roman a long moment to realize that Virgil wasn't listening, his attention turned inwards rather than outwards. Realization came with an unpleasant twist of concern in his stomach. Virgil was staring at the floor, his eyeshadow a sickly gray.

All thoughts of irritation and playful pouting fled Roman's mind in an instant. "Uh, hey. You okay?"

Virgil took too long to respond. "...Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He blinked hard, drummed his fingers against his temple. Awareness came back to him, marginally less unpleasant than it had been before. "Do you… do you mind if I turn the music down?" Surely that was no great transgression.

"Sure, be my guest" Roman said, truly ambivalent. He smiled a little and hummed to himself as Virgil fumbled with the remote.

"Hey, kiddos!" Patton stumbled out of the kitchen, Logan's hand firm between his shoulder blades. "Logan says I'm not allowed in the kitchen anymore." He smiled, unbothered, and sandwiched himself between Virgil and Roman on the couch. "Is this okay?" he asked Virgil.

"Yeah," said Virgil, unsure if he meant it. He leaned a little into Patton's side and decided it was okay. More than okay. Where it had overwhelmed him before, the gentle warmth of Patton's proximity now grounded him and calmed him down.

Like…

Like Remus did.

Roman, oblivious to Virgil's inner crisis, tossed his head. "Did you try to eat the dough again?"

"No," Logan called from the kitchen. "He tried to make glitter slime with the egg whites."

Virgil and Roman made twin faces of disgust; Patton only laughed and said, "I was egg-slime-ted to try something new!"

"Oh, no," Roman murmured, drawing one hand down his face.

Virgil raised an eyebrow and said, "Was it at least food grade glitter?"

"No," Logan answered, still out of sight. "It was craft glitter."

" What were you making?" Virgil asked, then realized his mistake. "Uh, before the egg slime."

"Cupcakes," Patton said.

"I already told you that," Roman said.

"Sorry, man." Virgil gave Roman a fake smile. "Sometimes when you start talking, all I can hear is refrigerator noise."

"Funky beets," Patton said, nodding.

Virgil stared at him. "You keep beets in the refrigerator?"

Patton wasn't listening. "Ooh! Brocc-n-roll!"

The conversation dissolved into increasingly dubious vegetable puns, which Virgil avoided contributing to. He was more than content to sit back and watch Roman's and Patton's energies bounce off each other as the conversation grew increasingly absurd.

It was moments like these that made Virgil think, maybe things would be okay after all. Change was scary but Virgil had his friends.

Logan emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, uncharacteristically ruffled. Flour left chalky marks on his shirt and tie, and glitter clung to his fingers despite all his efforts at the kitchen sink.

"Hi," Virgil said with a lazy wave. "Please stop them."

"What are they doing?" Logan asked. "I stopped listening when they started making puns." He sat down in the chair that sat perpendicular to the couch and looked expectantly at Virgil.

"Still puns," Virgil said. "Endless puns."

"It's fine," Roman said. "We can be done with puns."

"Only if you ask nicely!" Patton said. They all peered at him expectantly. "You said no more puns," he said, confused. "Should I have made one?"

"No need, Patton," Logan said hurriedly.

"Digging the new look, by the way," Virgil said by way of pointing out that Logan was covered in flour.

Logan squinted at him, puzzled, then looked down at himself. "Ah. One of the many hazards of working in a kitchen." He imagined his clothes clean and nodded in satisfaction at the result.

Unable to help himself, Virgil added, "Other hazards include: Setting your stove on fire, setting your self on fire." He paused, thinking. "Ants."

Patton took his cue to counteract Virgil's anxiety. "But if you don't take the risk, then you don't get the reward!"

"Cupcakes!" Roman said with equal enthusiasm.

The oven timer beeped.

Logan frowned. "It hasn't even been two minutes."

"I got impatient," Roman said, and kept going to try to talk his way out of a lecture on hard work. "And besides, don't we all have better things to do than sit around and wait for cupcakes to bake? Such as eating cupcakes?"

"Roman's right," Patton said.

Logan considered this, pushing up his glasses. "I suppose I could use the extra time to get some work done."

"Wow, Teach, you're leaving us just like that?" Virgil said instead of asking Logan to stay.

"Not before cupcakes he's not," Patton said firmly. "Roman?"

"Say no more." Roman made an extravagant hand gesture, and a tray of cooled, perfectly frosted cupcakes appeared on the coffee table.

"I was going to frost them," Logan said. "And I do have to wonder what the point was of having Patton and I bake in the first place."

"Oh, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Roman waved Logan off. "Anyway, Purple Menace, it's your party. You get the first cupcake."

"Thanks." Virgil grabbed one at random before he could start worrying about if there was a right or wrong answer. "So," he said, forcing himself out of his comfort zone, "since it is my party and all… Do you guys think you might want to spend the rest of the day with me? Only if you want to. It's cool if not."

"Of course we will!" Patton said, only just resisting the urge to wrap his arms around Virgil.

"Yeah," Roman said readily, "sure."

They all looked at Logan, who nodded. "If that's what you want."

Virgil looked down to hide his smile.

Virgil kept unusual hours at the best of times, plagued by insomnia and racing thoughts.

Tonight was no different. In fact, tonight was worse. After the day ended and the warmth and comfort of his friends faded away, Virgil found himself alone with his thoughts.

Thoughts that kept straying to Remus and Janus. The reality of their anger at him twisted in his stomach and stoked the fires of rage in his own chest until he was burning with it. Some friends th ey were, turning on him the second he tried to improve his own situation. They knew better than anyone just how much he'd disliked tormenting Thomas and antagonizing the others.

Virgil let out an angry huff and punched the volume button on his headphones. He knew better than to try to go to bed when he was this worked up, so he turned to his tried and true method of drowning out his thoughts: turning up his music until he felt it in his jaw.

It didn't work.

Virgil ripped his headphones off and tossed them away from him, careful even in his anger to not do anything that would cause them to break. He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. It was late enough that everyone else was probably asleep. He could go down to the kitchen and eat shredded cheese straight out of the bag without any questioning eyes on him.

He sank out of his room and popped up in the kitchen so focused on his goal that he didn't even notice Patton standing by the sink.

Patton in turn didn't notice Virgil until they both jumped in fright at the sensation of something in their peripherals.

"Oh!" Patton covered his mouth with his hand and took in a deep breath. "You scared me, kiddo!"

Virgil fell against the fridge, taking in a few deep breaths of his own. "Likewise."

Patton looked Virgil over, raising an eyebrow at Virgil's attire. "Late night?"

"Pretty much always. What about you?"

"I couldn't sleep," Patton said, glancing at Virgil to check in with him before continuing, "I was kinda worried about you."

Virgil shuffled over so he could nudge Patton with his hip. "C'mon, worrying is my job."

"I know," Patton said fondly. "I just… I want you to know that we care about you, and… Well, I just keep thinking about what you probably had to put up with living with Deceit and the Duke, and I'm a little concerned they might, y'know, try something."

"Oh," said Virgil, as a shot of panic rang his body like a bell.

"But don't worry!" Patton said. "We'll keep you safe!"

"Oh, dear." Janus flashed into view between them and looked at them both in turn. "Safe from what? "

"Um," said Patton, blushing up to his ears. "Heya, Deceit."

Janus dipped his chin and fixed Patton with an amused smirk that he had never practiced in his bathroom mirror. "Morality." He leaned back against the counter and waved a hand. "Oh, don't let me interrupt you. Please do tell Anxiety what it is you're going to keep him safe from."

"Ah," said Patton, fidgeting. "Um. It was sort of a private conversation."

"You can trust me." Janus touched his fingertips to his chest, expression open. "Have I ever given you a reason not to?"

"I guess not, no."

"So go ahead." Janus stared Patton down, delighting in his discomfort.

Virgil recovered his wits and only just managed to keep himself from snarling like a dog. "Leave him alone."

"Me?" Janus grinned at Virgil, revealing mismatched canines. "I'm harmless."

A sudden memory flashed through Virgil's mind: He and Janus eavesdropping on their upstairs neighbors. "Wait, were you just waiting by the door for me to show up?"

"No," Janus lied, spitting out the word too quickly. He saw no need whatsoever to let Virgil know that Janus had wanted to check on him and make sure the Lights weren't unduly punishing him for the perceived transgression of having once been 'Dark'. In fact, he'd gone into this with no intention of interacting with Patton at all, but he never could resist the opportunity to make a dramatic entrance.

"Dude." Virgil scoffed, smiling incredulously. "That's so lame."

Janus examined the back of one hand, propping up a facade of cool indifference. "More or less lame than listening to the same My Chemical Romance song 58 times in a row?" Janus teased, sweeping his gaze down Virgil's face. "By your estimate?"

Virgil was about to answer when he noticed Patton staring at him in confusion. He caught hold of his anger again and injected it into his words. "Did you actually want something or did you just come around to try to scare me?"

"This was a common area last time I checked," Janus said, pretending to look around.

Virgil would have liked to have pressed him. For all his scheming and planning, Janus had never mastered the art of the contingency plan. If Virgil taunted him, told him to carry on with his business in the kitchen, Janus would stutter out an excuse, turn tail, and flee.

But there was Patton, watching their rapport with interest and concern, and Virgil couldn't risk handing him any more pieces of the puzzle. Even Patton, who saw the best in everyone, seemed to believe that Janus and Remus had held Virgil hostage all those years. What would he say if he knew the truth?

Virgil took Patton by the hand. "Don't let us stop you, then. Come on, Pat." He sank out, hoping Patton would follow him to his room.

Patton took the hint and rose up by Virgil's door. He looked around uneasily at the spider curtains and the white webbing strung across the walls, but no wave of wild-eyed panic struck his mind. "That's funny."

"Haha," Virgil said, instantly regretting his weak attempt at humor. "Sorry. What's funny?"

"I'm not quite as scared as I was last time," Patton said.

Virgil stared at the purple-plated switch Roman had made earlier. "No way. No way that worked. Ugh, he's going to be insufferable if he finds out." Patton smiled vacantly and nodded. Virgil said , "Don't say anything to Roman, but you should be good to spend time in here with me. I-if you want to."

"Do you want to talk about what just happened?" Patton asked, not moving from the doorway. Even in the absence of blind panic, he could still feel phantom legs crawling across his bare skin if he stared at any one piece of spider decor for too long.

"I don't know," Virgil said, sighing heavily. "Are you okay?"

Patton couldn't help but shudder as he tried to tear his eyes away from Virgil's spider tank. He swallowed down his fear. Virgil needed him. He could be brave if it meant helping Virgil feel better. "Oh, don't worry about me." He forced himself not to think and crossed the room so he could sit next to Virgil on the bed. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know," Virgil said, unable to look Patton in the eye. This was his drama to worry about, not anyone else's. He shouldn't-- couldn't burden Patton with this. Lies danced on the tip of his tongue, so bitter he could almost taste them. He wondered if Janus could sense it, if Janus was laughing at him on the basement stairs. "It's over between us," Virgil said.

"Was it…" Patton hesitated. "I mean, were they… It's just that you're so sweet, and Deceit and the Duke are so scary . And… I mean, Deceit never comes into the kitchen. D'you think he was going to--" Patton broke off with a shudder. " Try something?"

Virgil couldn't even bring himself to protest at the idea that Patton didn't find him scary anymore, awash in nostalgia; half-formed memories of coffee on hazy mornings, reluctant cuddle piles on the couch, bickering for the sake of it, all warming and chilling him at the same time. "Maybe," Virgil said. It wasn't technically a lie, he told himself, just a misdirection. And if it kept Patton safe from Janus' mind games then Virgil would tell a thousand lies, never mind what that said about him. "He can be pretty scary when he wants to be.

"And you're okay?" Patton asked, still concerned. "You still seem pretty shaken up." Virgil was pale and his eyeshadow had gone dangerously dark. Patton wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and never let anything bad happen to him again, his chest ached with it.

"I didn't like how Deceit talked to you," Virgil said, and a burst of anger formed out of the fear for one incandescent moment. Janus had been playing a game with Patton, but it wasn't fair when Patton didn't know the rules. Janus would weave threats and insults into his words but never once speak impolitely or out of turn, and push and goad and tease until he found a breaking point. He had pinned Patton's back against the wall in less than a minute and would have kept toying with him just for the game of it had Virgil not stepped in. Virgil had been the victim of this trick before, in much more lighthearted circumstances. Janus would put words in your mouth and then condemn you for them with the holier-than-thou countenance of a tithe-stealing priest. "He's dangerous to talk to. Promise me you'll come get me if he ever catches you alone, okay?"

"Sure, kiddo." Patton didn't fully understand, but if it was important to Virgil, then it was important to him, too. He held up his pinkie. "Pinkie swear."

"Oh," said Virgil, softening. "We don't have to--"

"It's legally binding," Patton said seriously.

Virgil smiled despite himself and hooked pinkies with Patton. "Okay. Pinkie swear."

Patton drew his hand back and smothered a yawn behind it. "Sorry, kiddo, it's just a little be-yawn-d my bedtime. But I'm happy to stay up with you as long as you need!"

Guilt flooded Virgil's mind, choking out rationality and guiding him toward panic. "Oh, jeeze, I'm sorry. I won't keep you up."

“Aw, it’s okay,” Patton said, not missing the way Virgil’s body tensed up and his breathing quickened. “I’ll stay up with you all night if you want me to. We could even make a blanket fort. Just maybe…” He wiggled in place, thinking of spiders again. “Maybe in the living room or the hall.”

"It's okay, Pat." Virgil stifled a yawn of his own, burying his face in the collar of his hoodie. "Think I'm gonna crash soon, anyway." A small, cruel part of him protested at the idea that he would need special treatment and desperately wanted to throw it back in Patton's face. He wasn't a sweetheart, he wasn't a baby. He didn't need to crawl into a blanket fort with Dad just because he was a little stressed.

Okay, so he was a lot stressed, but he still didn't need coddling. He wasn't Roman .

"Should I go, then?" Patton asked, glancing at the door. He had seen Virgil's face go sour and adjusted his approach accordingly. It went against his nature, against his function, to leave someone upset without doing everything he could to fix it, but he was perceptive enough to grasp that Virgil wanted space.

Virgil nodded and yawned again, the ugliness draining from his face as though it had never been there at all. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night, Virgil." Patton stood, but hovered in the doorway. "Want me to get your light?"

Virgil kicked off his shoes and nodded. "Sure." Virgil hoped that Roman hadn't shuffled his clothing around too much. He wasn't in the mood to hunt for his pajamas in the dark. "See you in the morning?"

Patton nodded, turned off the light, and left.

#virgil sanders #spicywrites #spicywrites a place where i can breathe

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