#trust me it's all about the best songs on flood and pretty much nowhere else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

extravaguk · 4 years ago

Text

sweets&ink

part of my opposites attract! series.

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / pjm / kth

pairing: tattooartist&tattoed!jungkook x baker!reader

summary: jungkook was everything you feared but exactly what you needed to heal your broken heart.

wordcount: 5k

genre: fluff - angst - smut (s2l!au)

rated: m (?

warnings: some cursing, mentions of past abusive/toxic relationships/trauma that might be triggering, a lil of making love at the end. it’s overall just suuper fluffy, trust me. jungkook is a s i m p. we love that for him! slow burrrnnnn.

Jungkook knows it was love at first sight, but doesn's know how to really explain it.

He knew from the moment he entered the small shop, pastel green walls welcoming him replete of sugary treats, a sweet and heavenly scent engulfing him as soon as he stepped a foot inside. With a new found sense of calmness and serenity within he hadn't experienced in a long time, he searched for deserts of his liking, mouth watering while assessing the many options of baked goods available and bright colored frostings stealing his attention.

"Hi. How may I help you?"

Then he looked up and found you. It wasn't easy to appreciate your whole appearence with the counter hiding the lower half of your body, but it was enough for Jungkook to think to himself that he had never seen a prettier girl in hiis entire life. And that's when he knew it. Any type of movement in his surroundings coming to a halt, his heart skipping a beat, his favourite song playing inside his head. And that particular sensation. The same one that had made him feel so at ease since he found your bakery. For a moment he thought his doe eyes might have actually turned into heart eyes until you raised your eyebrows, a concerned expression replacing your previous warm smile.

Blinking his eyes and clearing his throat, coming down from cloud nine into the real world, he stuttered his order as best as he coud manage, heart pounding inside his chest and later feeling mortified for not being able to pronounce "gingernap cookies" correctly.

At first he kind of hated Seokjin for blackmailing him into going to his favourite bakery to buy his favourite cookies (Jungkook really should've known better than accidentally spill ink all over Jin's new script), but when he comes back home with a goofy smile on his face and dreams of your face, he makes sure to text him he'll go get his cookies anytime he wants.

But Jungkook is a masochist apparently.

Because a week after your first encounter he realizes that not being able to get his mind off a girl he's literally only seen once in his entire life is not exactly normal. Not for anyone, but especially not for him. Realizes that the way he embarrassed himself in front of you and probably looked like a bluberring mess (or a creepy weirdo who had never interacted with any woman before) is not reason enough to not keep wanting to try again. And the way you just giggled at him and simply shook your head as you wrapped the ginger cookies he had asked for in a pretty packaging has kept him aching for more.

So he comes once a week now. Still as nervous as the first day, but content to see that your face seems to light up at the sight of him stepping through the door the same way his does. He likes to see you in your cute pastel dresses, and if he didn't know better he'd think you were just trying to keep up with the bakery's aesthetic. But the more he frequents your shop, the more he realizes you're exactly like the treats you bake. He likes how your vividly honeyed persona contrasts with his darker and reserved one. Likes how you're all colors of the rainbow and he's just a scale of greys.

They are small interactions. Just courtesy and cordial exchange of words everytime he visits. He doesn't even know your name and you don't even know his, but sometimes he asks how was your weekend and sometimes you ask how many people had he inked that week. Sometimes he tells you how pretty you look, and sometimes you blush in response. Sometimes you add an extra macaron in his order and sometimes he debates on whether or not he should write down his number on a napkin and slide in right on the countertop before he waves goodbye.

And although Jungkook has never been one to shy away from women, he feels a certain way he can't exactly pinpoint. A way that makes his confidence falter and leaves him feeling like a little kid who's afraid to confess to the girl he likes. Because as cliché as it sounds, you're not like any other girls he's ever met. You don't feel like any other girl he's ever met. Not the older than him, tattoed and pierced type of girl he's accustomed to; not the type of girl that's addicted to trouble and believe him (maybe even hoped) to be something he's not. So it takes a while for him to summon up enough bravery and determination. It takes weeks of pining and overthinking, and a single push from Yoongi ('stop being a fucking pussy and just do it') to ask you to have coffee with him.

"I... I'm sorry. I can't."

And it only takes those words leaving your mouth to shatter his heart into pieces.

It's fine though, he told you and himself. He wasn't going to be one of those guys who believed the 'friendzone' was an actual thing and tried his best to not make you feel uncomfortable, really tried his best to erase the guilt across your face as you rejected him. So he scratched the back of his head and mustered up a big smile before leaving the shop with a bag full of cupcakes and an unsettled stomach.

Letting out a deep breath you didn't even know you were containing, you observe as the handsome stranger exits the shop. Running a hand through your hair before gripping the counter with your hands, you try to steady the heavy throbbing insde your chest.

The boy in question had been unknowingly tormenting you and flooding your mind with thoughts of him for almost two months now. That day you first had spotted him eyeing the desserts in display in amazement and then you in the very same way. It was sudden and precipitated, but it had almost made your head spin, something you hadn't felt in a long time unexplainable tugging at your insides.

You had kept your cool as best as you could, as best as you had taught yourself in the past. Wrapped those cookies he had asked and then waved goodbye, hoping under your breath he wouldn't come back but silently wishind he would. But then he did. He came back once. And then again. And again, and before you realized he had become a frequent costumer. Trying whatever treats you'd recommended him, creating small talk, sending friendly smiles here and then.

You had learned to expect him at the very same time, the very same day of the week; had learned to manage the fluttering in your tummy and the reddish warmth spreading through your cheeks whenever the eye contact was prolongued. Everything was innocent, it was brief and, most importanly, it never went beyond, even if sometimes you hoped it did.

However, after all these years, there was still something you hadn't learned to control yet. And as he spoke, clearly nervous, hesitant and clearly out of his comfort zone, wondering out loud if he could ever treat you to a coffee sometime, your body shut down. The fondness and excitement you had been harboring over the last few weeks quickly replaced by that which made you want to recoil, made you want to back to your well to let its darkness and loneliness envelop you.

That horrible and ugly wave of crippling fear and axiety all mixed together; a little monster that you had successfully concealed, now displaying its ears in warning and the same smile that had been haunting you for years, now advising you, reminding you and most of all, threatening you, to go back to your own comfort zone. And so, powerless, there was nothing else you could really to but to comply, muttering an apology and a rejection that probably pained you more than it pained the boy in front of you.

You knew you did the right thing, but it definitely didn't feel like it.

Especially a week later, as you expected his arrival- as always, ready with a tray full of fresh baked scones you had particularly made just for him, but were left severely disappointed when time passed and he was nowhere to be seen. Or two weeks later, after spending an extra hour making cake pops that you had specifically designed with him in mind (covered in dark chocolate and white sprinkles), only to realize it was closing time and that he never even showed up.

To say you were bummed was an understatement. You knew you always looked forward to him coming in every week to grace your day with a smile and a polite talk, but you didn't come to terms with how much you would miss it until now. So three weeks later, you still bake with him in mind, trying not to lose hope but still chastising yourself for not being brave enough and accepting his offer. It was just a coffee date, for God's sake, not a marriage proposal! Trying to busy your mind with work and customers coming in and out, even if your eyes dart in anticipation everytime you hear the door swinging.

When hours pass and the sun hides to make room for the moon and stars into the sky, you look at the clock and, with a defeated sigh, finish cleaning and tidying around the shop. But before you can gather your things, the door swings open and there stands the stranger you had been praying to see again.

"Am I too late?" he asks, and you don't exactly know but can tell his words hold a double meaning. You smile, a genuine smile, because he looks bashful with a hand scratching the back of his head like he had done the last time you saw him, and because there's a warm sensation spreading through your chest, like your heart is smiling for you.

"I was about to close, but I can make an exception." you accomplish to say and surprisingly don't sound as nervous as you feel. He mirrors your smile as he walks closer to the counter. "So, what would you like?"

That takes him by surprise because he really had nothing in mind when he decided to come here and now he feels like an idiot.

"Uh, um... I would like... maybe cupcakes?" he sounds like an idiot too. But you nod and smile at him and start gathering his cupcakes into a polka dot cardboard box.

"You missed the cake pops I made last week." you say, trying to keep your voice in check as he hands you his credit car. "I think you would've liked them."

"Ah, sorry... Work has been really hectic." and even if it's true, it's also true the fact that he chickened out and was frightened to face you again. He likes how even when you're alluding to his absence, there's not a malicious tone behind your words. He likes how you're still smiling at him even after he's been acting like a pussy for two weeks. But that's why he's here. "I also would like to apologize for... you know. I didn't-...If I made you feel uncomfortable, I'm really sorry."

With your eyebrows raised, your smile dissipates. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong, really. It's not- It's not that. I just...can't." you stumble through words, trying to explain how much you actually wanted to go to that coffee date, to get to know his name and more of himself, but unavailable to. You can feel it again. The same anguish that always seem to creep up on you and numbs you altogheter. But him, worriedly sensing your distress, waves his hands in front of him.

"No, no. It's fine, you don't have to explain anything! It's alright!" his smile seems to soothe you and you return his smile in gratitude. "Anyways, I'll... I'll get going. See you next week?"

You nod, anticipation already making its way into you. "See you next week." and then he takes the box filled with cupcakes and says goodbye. Before he can open the door though, a tingle of impulsivity and fearlesness makes you say:

"I'm _____, by the way."

He pauses, clearly taken aback.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook hasn't stopped repeating your name in his head ever since you gave it to him, grinning like a fool and thinking about how good it sounds next to his. He hasn't stopped frequenting your bakery either and has lost count on how much money he's spent on muffins and whatever else you sell. He doesn't care though. All he cares about is how much likes seeing you even if it's only for fifteen minutes in your floral dresses, and as long as you keep looking like you're glad to see him every time, then he's fine.

He's more than fine. He feels amazing. Sings tunes while he works on customers, feels his creativity flowing more than ever and he feels whole. It still baffles him how a minimun interaction with you once a week can make him feel on top of the world.

He's got a bouquet of white and pink lillies next time he visits, so sappy and romantic he doesn't even recognize himself. He doesn't tell you he googled their meaning and his mind instantly associated them with you. Purity is exactly what he thinks of you and admiration is exactly how he feels about you. Hands it to you and the surprised look on your face and the spreading of pink all over your cheeks makes his heart burst. You thank him and he tells you he didn't know what your favourite flower is. You answer it's carnations. He writes it down somewhere in his mind, for next time. And then you're the one surprising him.

"Would you like to have coffee sometime?"

There's uncertainty in your voice that doesn't go unnoticed by him, and for a moment he thinks he's dreaming. He's cool with what he's got right now with you, but you repeating his words back to him makes him feel euphoric, like he can't believe it. He knows he looks dumb, the way he's looking at you.

Completely dumbfounded. He stutters like the first same he met you, but he says yes (omits the part where he tells you he could almost die). You exchange number in each other's phones with shaky hands, set the day and hour, and then wave each other goodbye.

You instantly regret it as you watch him leave. Keep regretting it the following days. That voice in your head telling you 'it'll happen again', telling you fairytales didn't exist and this most likely wasn't one, even if it felt like it was, suffocating you like it had done many times before. Screwing with your head until you consider canceling.

But you power through it, like you had taught yourself to do. This time it's harder though. Because this time there's a new romantic interest at hand, one that's making you feel things you buried a long time ago and made you swear to yourself you'd be smarter and stronger than any man could.

It's Hoseok's encouraging words that help ease the panic. It was also Hoseok's words who encouraged you to ask Jungkook out. Said you deserved something good for once and that you couldn't close yourself to love your entire life.

Thought it was time for you to write a new chapter after a rather sad one.

So on Saturday, Jungkook insists on picking you up and it already feels like too much for you. Especially when he shows up with a bouquet of carnations in his hand and a smile that takes your breath away and definitely doesn't help to ease your nerves.

Takes him by surprised how pretty you look. maybe because it's the first time he's seen you out of your shop and even though you're still loyal to your clothing style, he still fumbles with his words like an idiot to try to express how beautiful you look. Seeing he's as much of a mess as you settles you a little bit. Then he takes you to a cute café that almost makes you laugh, because seeing him, inked arms and piercings and a closet that consisted mainly of black oversized t-shirts and pants in such a bright environment reminds you of the first time he entered your shop.

You're surprised to see how well the conversation rolls, how easy it is to talk to him beyond the usual brief interactions you two have. You like how he makes you laugh and how he seems to love hearing it. You like how his attention is solely focused on you, even if his gaze on yours sometimes feels too intense and his overall character intimidates you. You like how soft spoken he is, how careful he is with words and the sound of his voice. Sounds like a lullaby without melody.

And when the date is over, he drives you home, walks you to your door and respectfully wishes you a good night. You kiss him on the cheek spontaniously before hiding the embarrassment on your face and stepping inside your home. You miss the way he stays at your doorstep for a whole minute before getting in his car and driving himself home. You also miss how peacefully he sleeps that night, dreaming of cupcakes and you. You don't miss the heart emoji he sends you before going to bed, making yours quiver.

You're glad you didn't cancel, and now you're sure you don't regret it at all

It goes on. The dates, getting to know each other more and more, Jungkook's visits to your shop and spending way too much money on sweets and carnations, the butterflies in your stomach everytime he's near and the birth of something inside of you that's starting to make you feel alive after feeling dead for so long.

It's still new, still wholesome, moves in slow motion. You're glad Jungkook doesn't push, doesn't ask for anything, never demands more than a kiss on the cheek everytime he drops you off. He is nothing like he looks like, you realized that right away.

But with every brand new beginning that requires feelings like this, especially as unique and exceptional as the ones Jungkook is causing within you, comes the evil monster trying to scare you off, to make you back off and remind you that not everything that shines is gold. The voice inside your head that keeps bewitching you back into a dark room, reminder in your head everytime that one day Jungkook will want more. He'll want more and you might not be ready to give it to him.

A voice that keeps resonating and has kept you unmoving for the past few years and now is making you feel more frightened than ever.

You've been more quite than usual and Jungkook can tell something is not quite right. It's a friday night, and after having dinner that he insisted on paying, he decided this time to drive you away, to a secluded space somewhere where you both can appreciate the city lights on the hood of his car. He can tell, so he asks you, but you give a vague answer. He wants to ask again, but he's afraid of overstepping your boundaries. He wants to get to know you in every level, want's to scratch the surface until he can see everything. He wants to learn you inch by inch. Wants to love every part you bare to him, because he's sure he will.

"My ex partner was abusive."

You finally say with a voice that's not entirely yours, and it doesn't feel real. Doesn't feel real to say out loud and letting the words sink in. It's taken all this time of excusing behaviors that were not excusable, trying to make light of a situation that wasn't and blaming yourself for things that you were not to blame for. Jungkook stays silent, but his attention immediately focused on you as soon as you spoke. Eyes slightly wide and mouth starting to open as if to speak himself. But you go on.

"Not physically." you swallow a lump in your throat. "Sometimes he would throw things at me, but they didn't always land. Or... one time he pushed me while we were arguing. Never raised his hand at me though. It was mostly psychological and emotional. He was extremely jealous and possesive. Didn't like me hanging with my friends, would never bring me to hang out with him and his friends. Though I' was cheating on him with anyone. The cashier at the supermarket, a randome dude on the street that simply looked at me. Anyone." tears prickle your eyes, but you'd learned to hold them back.

"He would always get mad at me. Would already wake up angry and take it out on me. Without reason. Would always blame me for everything. He would get mad, insult me, call me any terrible name you can imagine, tell me I wasn't worth shit. That I wasn’t worth living.Then he would punch the wall, or break whatever was in sight. Everytime, I told him I was terrified of him. Would cry in a corner and beg him to stop. Sometimes he would just laugh at me for it." you sniff, still looking straight at the city lights, and trying to keep a composed tone throughout. You had grown up a lot since then, and you knew Jungkook deserved to know you. He deserved to understand.

"Then he would calm down, apologize while he cried and promised he loved me and would change. He never did. It took me a long time to finally walk away, but the demons still haunt me to this day. You," you choke, because comparing your ex to the guy currently sitting next to you was like day and night, like heaven and hell. "You make me feel things I've never felt before. I always felt like asking for respect was asking for too much. And then here you come, like a knight on shining armour ready to sweep me off my feet. It felt like a dream. Still does..."

Jungkook's hands are balled into tight fists, his whole body rigid as he listened to you. His own heart breaking, like he could feel himself inside you and experiencing your own heartbreak. His blood's boiling, jaw so tight and eyes blinking. Pushing down his anger, because this is about you not him, he lets his body relax before sliding your hand in yours.

"I like you so much,_____, it literally kills me at night how much. Not as much as hearing all of this, though. From the moment I saw you, I was whipped. I wanted and still want to give everything I can to see that smile of yours. It's me the one who can't believe you're paying me any attention at all." you're still not looking at him, but he still sighs in relief when your lips quirk up. "Just having you here next to me and letting me take you out on dates is more than enough for me. Whatever you give me, whatever your terms are, I'm content with that. You're healing, and while you do, I'll be right here."

You look at him now, not bothering to hide the tears streaming down your face anymore.

"What if I never heal completely?" there's fear in your voice as your eyes meet his, but just the dark brown in his gaze help you feel secure, less worried about the future and more serene about the now.

"I'll still be here."

It doesn't take long for you to call it love.

Not when Jungkook keeps proving himself to be so different and so special. Not when his gestures never cease to make you feel so special, so worthy of recieving and sharing love. Because Jungkook makes you feel invincible, makes you feel one in a million.

"What to you even see in me? We're like, polar opposites." you ask him one day. And it's true, you are. So different from each other, yet the same. He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, still holding your hand in your doorstep about to kiss your cheek goodnight.

"I see everything." he simply says, eyes boring into yours in adoration. "I see the sun, and the moon, the stars, the entire galaxy when I'm with you." your heart clenches as he interlaces his fingers with yours. "Before I met you, I felt like I was blind. Like I was lost and was looking for an exit that I couldn't find. But then I saw you, in your little bakery, with your cute dresses and those eyes, and it was like my eyes opened for the first time. Everything made sense. Everything has been filled with so many colors ever sinc-"

You shut him with your lips on top of his, emotions pulling at your heartstrings the same way you pull him down by the neck. He takes a few seconds to respond, but then this hands are dropping to your waist, their warmth immediately spreading through your skin against the chilly night.

"Would you like to come in?" you whisper, breath fanning over his lips. He nods, hurriedly, and he knows he looks like a damn idiot for the hundredth time, but he doesn't care. Because coming in doesn't only mean stepping in your home. Coming in means you're letting him in. Means you trust him, means you want him there, means you're allowing him inside your heart.

Again, Jungkook doesn't expect nor demands much. Your presence is everything he needs. You kissing him is like winning the lottery to him. Like completing a marathon, like climbing the Everest, like getting his first tattoo. Kissing you is sweet, fills him with something strong that makes him feel on drugs, like nothing matters but you and him. Like nothing has ever mattered to neither of you.

So it's you who leads him to your room, it's you who straddles his thighs and pushes his hair back as his hands carress your sides. It's nothing fiery. It's slow, tentative, and full of care. Of lingering touches, low sighs against each other's mouths.

It's you who reaches inside his shirt, hand sneaking past the hem of the fabric and trembling cold fingers coming in contact with firm skin. It's also you who asks for more with a small roll of your hips. It's you who asks him to take his shirt off. It's him who complies. Still tells you you don't have to, you tell him you want to.

It's you who asks him to touch you. He's scared like he's never been, because you're you, and you're so perfect and everything he's ever wanted and suddenly he's afraid of you're too good for him. Jungkook only wants to make you happy, never wants to see you cry, just wants to treat you the way you deserve.

It's you who begs.

It's you who tells him you need him. Need him take care of you, need him to show you much you're worth, need him to help you write a new chapter, probably even a new book where you're both the main characters and nobody else has ever existed. You say it with tears in your eyes, and he's quick to kiss them away, tongue entangling with yours. He's quick to undress you as well, with hands that still ask for permission even after you've granted it already. Hands and lips that are also quick and eager to learn your body, to find every mole in your skin as he lays you back to look at you in admiration. He keeps kissing you. From head to toe, muttering praise, making sure every 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' and 'perfect' that leave his lips stay fire engraved in your being forever.

He first makes you cum with careful fingers and skilled tongue, thighs wrapped aro around his head, eyes still looking for yours as his hands keep your body still and yours crumple the sheets beneath. Tells you how good you taste, how long he's been dying to have you like this. Tells you this you his favourite sight as he kisses his way up.

You beg him again, asking him to please, please, fill you up. He groans against your mouth and he tells you again, you don't have to. He says he's happy like this. Repeats he's in no rush and just wants to please you and make you feel good. That it's about you, and will always be about you. You beg him again, and again and again, enticing him with a trail of wet kisses down his neck, up to his eralobe. You whisper there, tell him you need him to fill you with his cock so bad. His whole body goes rigid as your legs wrap around him, legs pulling him closer to where you want him, his erection grazing your entrance and his teeth nibble your lower lip.

Jungkook doesn't move for a while, eyes closed shut, jaw clenched and head buried in your neck. He doesn't move because his mind is somewhere else keeping him stagnant, pussy wrapping around him so good and wet and tight he's about to bust. Takes a while for him to move, but when he does he makes sure to grip your thighs around him, keeping you close, never wanting to let go as he tells you you were made just for him. Just for him. Tells you how good you feel. He tells you he loves you. Kisses your lips as you sob, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He tells you he loves you. Tells you he'll love you forever and will always keep you safe and happy.

You're crying now, cheeks wet and he stops for a moment to look at you, concern written all over his face as his hands craddle yours, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "We can stop, baby." You shake your head no. Pull him back into another kiss, urging him to go on. You tell him you love this, love him so much. That it's a good thing. That they are happy tears. That you've never been happier. And then his hips start moving again, your words egging him own, soft whimpers and sobs leaving each other's throats until you cum at the same time.

He then removes himself from you, rolling onto your side but he's quick to pull your body close, arms wrapping around you and lips kissing away the wet stains on your cheeks.

It doesn't take long for you to know Jungkook would be the healthy forever and after you had always dreamed of.

#THE FEEELS BRUH #aaaaaa #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts #jungkook fic

2K notes · View notes

skiller0dani · 4 years ago

Text

As You Go | Ethan Nestor

M A S T E R L I S T YouTube Masterlist

angsty smut requests info

I’ve always had a thing for Ethan. So I decided to incorporate him, hope you guys like it! If there are any other YouTubers you want me to write about lmk! I promise I’m going to start chipping away at my requests, I love you all. I had to get this out of my system, because this song (and this one too) hella inspired me to write a piece based on it. also this gif is doing things to me. look at Ethan. his chest, his legs, his arms, his e v e r y t h i n g.

also I kept the smut short bc I’m not sure how people will respond to it, if you guys like it I’ll write more (much longer) Ethan smut.

Mark promised to give Ethan the space he needed, but he just couldn’t help reaching out. While what happened wasn’t necessarily Mark’s fault, Ethan’s anger was being directed at both you and Mark. The guilt that had made a home in Mark’s chest was enough to cripple him, and he was borderline desperate for Ethan’s forgiveness. He texted, he called, he even emailed Ethan. Despite Amy advising Mark to give Ethan the space he desperately needed, he just couldn’t. In reality, it truly wasn’t Mark’s fault- but he still feels responsible for what you did that night. Ethan had shut himself in his house, and Mark hadn’t heard from him in nearly a week. It was killing him. It was just a mistake, it didn’t mean anything. At least it sure as hell didn’t mean anything to Mark, how could Ethan believe Mark wanted it? He has Amy- he loves Amy.

“I have to go see him.” Mark says decisively as he reaches for his car keys. But Amy reaches for them first.

“He doesn’t want to see you.” The truth of it stings, it causes Mark to flinch.

“I don’t care, he only knows what he saw.” Mark snaps, the pain from the memory flooding back in.

“And what he saw traumatized him Mark, you need to give him time. He’ll come around. I told Y/N the same thing.” Amy explains, a firm look in her eyes. Mark felt emotion swell in his throat as tears misted in his eyes. “Think about how he must be feeling, he trusted the two of you more than anyone else. Ethan was never worried about leaving you and Y/N alone and then-”

“She kissed me!” Mark cried desperately, leaning against the kitchen counter. “He has to know that and I don’t think he does.” Amy feels for Mark, she does. She knows it wasn’t his fault, but it still hurts. It’s the pain that leads Amy to protect Ethan above everyone else. The pain he must be feeling right now, Amy tears up thinking about how hurt he must be. She turns, “just leave him alone. Let him come to you.” She then saunters off, keys in hand. The last thing he needs is Mark at his doorstep.

Ethan sits curled on the couch, his knees brought up to his chest. He has so many questions, and he’s too damn afraid to find out the answers. How long has that been going on? How long have you been into Mark? Was your entire relationship a lie? Were you just trying to get closer to Mark? Why didn’t Mark tell him? He should have seen it coming, why would anyone choose him when he’s friends with Mark? Pretending to love him gave you the perfect opportunity to get closer to Mark. The numbness of this entire week is what Ethan was the most surprised by, he expected to cry, to scream, to break everything in sight. But he didn’t- he sat and he did nothing. Said nothing. Went nowhere, he barely even ate.

Everything about that night replays in Ethan’s mind. It was a late shooting for Unus Annus, and you’d usually tagged along. That never bothered Ethan before. It should have.

You had participated in a drinking video for Unus Annus, since Mark couldn’t drink. You didn’t want Ethan to be drunk alone, and that’s how you found yourself in the predicament you were in now. You were in Mark and Amy’s spare bedroom, the room swaying slightly. The headache you’d had earlier was slowly ebbing away, the alcohol and the dark room helping. The door opened, someone had said they’d bring you some Advil. Through the darkness you slid your hands onto Ethan’s shoulders, he said nothing but you felt him stiffen as you did so. You giggled drunkenly when you felt him try to pry your hands off him. Why was he being so shy?

“Eef c’mon,” You sighed as you pressed your body against his. You wound your hands through his dark hair, and he only pulled away further. “Uh- I-I’m, well I’m not-” He was stammering, normally you never caught him so off-guard with your affection. His hands were firmly on your waist, and you could have sworn he was trying to push you away. Your brain felt hazy as you leaned into him, your lips planting firmly on his. He went completely stiff, what’s the matter with Ethan tonight? The light flicks on in the next second and you pull away from Ethan, your eyes squinting in the bright light.

“What the hell?” You hear Ethan say softly, his voice distant and wrought with an emotion you couldn’t identify. You looked up at the man you were pressed against and your eyebrows furrowed as you locked eyes with...Mark. “Mark.” You’d meant it to sound like a question but you’re pretty sure it sounded like a statement. You swayed back drunkenly, causing Mark’s hands to fly out and steady you.

“Ethan-” Mark started worriedly as Ethan turned out of the spare bedroom.

“Were you Mark this whole time?” You slur, watching the panic settle in Mark’s eyes. “Where’s Ethan?” You ask again, pulling away from Mark. This all felt like some vivid hallucination. You collapsed onto the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion. You’re barely conscious when you hear Amy call Ethan’s name, seconds before the front door slammed.

You were drunk, you didn’t mean it. That’s what Ethan keeps saying over and over, yet he doesn’t really believe it. A few stray tears cascade down Ethan’s cheeks when he hears banging on the front door. He wished whoever it was would go away, but still he drug himself to the front door and looked through the peephole.

Mark.

He’d been dodging Mark’s attempts to contact him for a week now, and Ethan knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid Mark forever. So he opened the door, to find a slightly panicked, slightly relieved Mark standing in front of him. Ethan stood in the doorway, keeping the door against his side. Mark wrung his hands together as he searched for the words to say. “Can I come in?” It’s all he can think of- he just wants a chance to explain himself. Ethan nods curtly, opening the door for Mark to enter.

“What do you want?” Ethan asks, trying his best to keep himself physically and emotionally distant from Mark. Mark stood in the doorway, feeling emotion steadily rising in his chest once more. “I-I had no idea she would kiss me! I was just bringing her Advil, she was really drunk Ethan, she didn’t even know it was me. She thought it was you! She even said your name, it was dark in there!” Mark huffs in one breath and Ethan doesn’t know how to respond. He nodded before turning to lean against the couch.

“Honestly I don’t care how it happened Mark, that doesn’t change anything. It still happened regardless, and knowing why doesn’t make it hurt any less.” Ethan says, his voice soft. Ethan never thought of himself as cynical, but right now he felt like all the color was draining out of the world. The betrayal he feels almost feels as though it’s been branded onto him. Something he will never be able to leave behind, no matter what happens in the future, he’ll never be able to forget that this happened.

“I’m sorry Ethan, I- I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Mark says again, feeling panic growing in his chest. Ethan nods as he rubs a hand down his face. He turns to Mark, he wants to forgive Mark. His friendship is too valuable to Ethan to lose. He reaches out for Mark and wraps his arms around him, and he feels Mark release a breath. “I’m so- so sorry.” Ethan wraps his arms around Mark tighter, “I know.”

Forgiving Mark felt good, it brought Ethan some respite through the hardest time in his life. But another week had passed and he still couldn’t bring himself to answer your texts or calls, or open the door when you came by. He didn’t know how he could be around you without feeling all the pain come rushing back in. You kissed Mark. But he gave Mark a chance, and he knew sooner or later he’d have to give you a chance too. That’s why he texted you, and told you to come over. Ethan felt his palms sweating, it was like he couldn’t even breathe. The seconds seemed to tick by so slowly, and while he was still so angry and hurt... he couldn’t deny how excited he was to see you again.

When the doorbell rang, it was almost embarrassing how quickly Ethan was answering the door. You carefully made your inside and for a few minutes you and Ethan did nothing other than stare at each other. In an instant Ethan had reached forward and brought his lips to yours. He knew he’d never be able to trust you again, he knew the relationship was over. But before you go, he needs to feel you around him one more time. He needs to feel your skin against his. You melt into him, your lips moving with his as Ethan’s hand slide down your back to your legs. He tugs on your legs, signaling you to jump. Offering a little jump, Ethan wraps your legs around his waist as he presses you against the nearest wall.

You moan softly as Ethan trails desperate kisses down the column of your neck, his hands resting firmly on your ass. His movements are quick, almost desperate as he gently grinds against you. You moan again as your hands tangle in his hair, this wasn’t what you were expecting when he asked you to come over. You missed him, you missed this. Ethan’s lips trail back up to yours as he keeps turns and leans you down against the couch. His hands dance down your body to the waistband of your leggings, quickly yanking them down your body. “God Ethan I missed you.” You moaned, and for a second Ethan almost forgets. He almost forgets what you did. He nearly lost himself in the tender suppleness of your skin. Ethan nearly lost himself in the heat coming from between your legs.

Ethan doesn’t respond as his hand delves between your legs. His fingers dancing between your folds as you desperately fumble with the buckle of his belt. Eventually you pull it through the loops, already helping him unbutton his jeans as he leans over you again. He’s going to miss your skin against his, among so many other more meaningful things. He’s going to miss how your nose scrunches up when you laugh, or how you would play with his hair when he was stressed. Most of all he’s going to miss how safe he felt when he was with you, he’ll never feel like that with you again. You destroyed any sense of security he ever felt with you the second you pressed your lips against Mark’s. Once his jeans were around his ankles, Ethan kicked them off before slowly pressing his head into you.

He pulls you up against his chest, his head pressed into your neck as he slowly slides into you inch by inch. You hold desperately to him, moaning softly against his clothed shoulder as he gently stretches you open. You wind your legs around his waist as he slides out slowly before bottoming out again. Ethan sets a slow and steady pace, his breath fanning against your neck and your eyes are screwed shut as Ethan slowly pushes into you again and again. The pleasure building inside you is overwhelming and soon you’re panting against Ethan as he picks up his pace only slightly. Ethan drives into you again and again until you feel that winding coil inside you snap and you cum hard around him. Ethan offers a few more forceful thrusts before cumming into you, thank god for birth control.

Ethan is silent after he pulls out, and there’s a somber look on his face. You try to reach up to cup his cheek in your palm but he turns away from you. You lean up on your elbows, watching as he pulls his jeans back up. “I can’t trust you. Maybe it’s selfish of me but I just needed to feel you one last time.” Your eyebrows furrow together as your heart breaks in your chest. Is Ethan...breaking up with you? You quickly pull your leggings up, “Ethan...I’m sorry I am.”

“I know, but I can’t be in a relationship with no trust.” He says finally, his tone firm. You feel tears in your eyes as you stand.

“But I love you.” You whisper and Ethan turns to you with tears in his eyes.

“I love you, but I can’t do this.” He says again, before turning and heading up the stairs, taking your heart with him as he goes.

#ethan nestor #ethan nestor imagine #crankgameplays imagine #crankgameplays #crankgameplays smut #youtuber #youtube smut #Smut #ethan nestor smut #goodbye sex #breakup sex

189 notes · View notes

whenisitenoughtrees · 5 years ago

Text

look me up and define me (please remind me) (part 2/2)

He is whatever puts Thomas first. But that changes so often that he doesn’t know what he is beyond that.

He is Janus when he is alone, but only when he is not someone else.

Janus has never minded the fact that his identity is fluid, ever-changing. He acts as whoever Thomas needs him to be in the moment, and if that means he doesn't know much about himself as an individual, well. It's never been a problem for him.

Until he gives away his name, and then it very much is.

Chapter Warnings: identity issues, body dysphoria, body horror, panic attack, self-harm (hair pulling), mild injury

Chapter Word Count: 5,947

Pairings: platonic TDLAMPR, implied Moceit

Notes: This is the second part of a two-part fic, so I’d start with part one if you haven’t read it. Also, this fic as a whole was inspired by the awesome ‘The Record Player Song’ animatic by @turbovickii, which, 10/10 would recommend if you haven’t seen it

(part one)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

“Do you ever think about the past?” Patton asks him. It’s a gloomy day, rain beating against the mindscape’s windows to mimic the downpour keeping Thomas trapped inside his apartment. On days like these, he has learned, Patton tends toward melancholy reflection, toward sipping wine in the living room rather than attempting to cook or bake.

He has found himself glad of it, most of the time. Even on a good day, Patton is often too distractible to bake without supervision, and on these days, his eyes glaze and his movements slow as he reminisces on days long gone. Frankly, he should not be trusted anywhere near the kitchen, and they both know it.

“Not really,” he lies. “Not unless it suits. Do you?”

He already knows the answer to that, of course. Patton hums noncommittally, eyes flitting to the rain-splattered windowpane. It’s just the two of them right now; the others emerge from their rooms more often now than they did just after the wedding, but still not often enough. Patton is struggling, both with himself and with his relationships, and for that reason alone, he will do his best to support. Even if he doesn’t know quite how. Even if he himself grows more and more adrift with every passing day.

“I wish we’d been friends sooner,” Patton says. “I was pretty mean to you when we were kids.”

He sighs. “I was pretty mean right back,” he says, ignoring the implications of friends, all the meanings contained in that one word. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Patton smiles at him, and his heart skips a beat. “Still,” he says. “I’m glad we’re friends now, Janus.”

He doesn’t have a response to that. He can’t tell Patton that their friendship is based on a lie, that who he thinks of as Janus is nothing more than a shadow, that in these moments, he is drawing on a Patton-like persona more than anything else. He can’t tell Patton that he thinks about the past far more than he should, simpler times, when he was someone else, young and fresh-eyed and hopeful, not just willing but eager to do anything and everything to help Thomas and the rest of them.

That was when the trouble started. When deception became integral to his being. When he lost himself under all the rest, if there was ever anything to be lost in the first place. Isn’t it ironic, that Thomas’ sense of self-preservation has no sense of self of his own?

I’m glad we’re friends now, Janus.

He would be, too, if Janus were real. But Janus isn’t real, and he doesn’t know how to make him so.

So, he doesn’t respond to Patton. Just smiles, smiles and smiles and smiles and hopes that he can’t see through the facade. It’s something Patton himself would do, he thinks, and pretends that the thought doesn’t make him sick.

And so the days pass. Life continues. Nothing is solved. He grows closer with the others, more welcome in their discussions, more appreciated by Thomas, even, and he would be ecstatic if it weren’t for the fact that interacting with them is like pulling teeth. They all look at him in a certain way, now, like they understand him, or want to, and it is all he can do to prevent himself from shouting at them, from telling them that they understand nothing. He is a mask built upon another mask built upon more masks, and there is nothing underneath them. Janus is the name given to the void they hide.

How could they possibly understand him when he doesn’t understand himself? When he is slowly beginning to realize that there is nothing to understand at all, that Janus is just a name, and a name means nothing at all if there is not a person behind it, attached in a way that he has never been?

Janus isn’t his name. It isn’t, and it is, but the difference between those is negligible. They all expect him to be Janus, now, but he has never known who that is, has never been anything but an amalgam of the others and of Deceit. How is he supposed to be Janus when he doesn’t--

There is a hand on his arm.

He jerks away, blinking. Virgil is standing close to him, too close, hand outstretched, but rather than his typical snarl, his face is neutral, nothing but a crease between his brows betraying his discomfort.

“You back?” he drawls, but the words are nowhere near as biting as they usually are.

He blinks again, looking around the room. Thomas’ living room. The others are all present, all but Remus, and all of their eyes are on him. They are discussing Thomas’ next creative venture, if he remembers correctly, going over potential ideas and plans, and for some reason, they wanted his input as well. He’s not sure why; they’ve gone through this perfectly well without him in the past, and once the meeting starts, he barely has anything to say. Which allows his mind to wander.

A mistake.

He steps away from Virgil, hoping that the movement comes off as casual, and brushes a bit of imaginary lint from his sleeve. “Apologies,” he says. “Lost in thought. What was the question?”

He ignores the way Virgil’s eyes narrow.

“Uh,” Thomas says, oddly hesitant. “Are you sure about that? We’ve been trying to get your attention for a few minutes now. Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” he says. “A bit tired, perhaps.” Not a lie. He’s exhausted. It’s hardly the whole truth, and something in him burns to be showing any amount of weakness at all, any vulnerability, but better this than sharing any of the rest.

“Oh,” Thomas says. “Well, I just--”

“Falsehood.”

The word is quiet, but it cuts through the conversation like a hot knife through bread. Because for all that the word is Logan’s trademark phrase, it is not Logan who speaks, but Virgil. Virgil, who is still standing too near, hunched in on himself, his face set in an expression he can’t begin to interpret.

For a long moment, there is silence.

“That’s my word,” Logan says. It seems a halfhearted complaint.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Roman says. “Where’s the falsehood?”

“I’ll admit, I’m confused as well,” he says, though he’s not, though his heart is beating far too quickly, though he knows exactly what Virgil means, and both fear and betrayal swirl in his chest and stiffen his spine. His nerves rise to a crescendo, and he has to focus on his breathing to make sure his form doesn’t slip. He must remember how they view him now, how they look at him and think Janus, must remember to maintain Deceit’s face, though the anxiety flooding his senses urges him to exchange the yellow for purple, the scales for eyeshadow, because that’s what he’s always done when he feels this way, when his chest feels tight and his breaths come too short. This is a Virgil-feeling, but he can’t shift right now because he’s supposed to be Deceit, is supposed to be Janus, and if he changes now, the house of cards on which he’s built his acceptance crumbles.

He can’t let that happen. He feels terrible now, but the isolation of before was worse. Now that he’s admitted as much to himself, he wouldn’t be able to bear going back.

“Now, now,” Patton says, “let’s let Virgil speak.”

“Yeah,” Thomas says, brow furrowed. “Virgil, what do you mean?”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Let him explain,” he says, jerking a thumb in his direction. “He’s the one lying.”

And just like that, all eyes return to him. He wonders, idly, if he could get away with summoning Remus, if he could throw a bit of chaos into the mix and watch them all scramble. They’d forget about him in the wake of that, he’s sure. But no, he can’t do it now, not when it would be so obvious. His strengths lie in his subtlety, his skill at misdirection. Remus is a blunt instrument, one not suited for this task.

He raises his hands, claps sarcastically. “Well done, Virgil,” he says. “I’m so impressed by your ability to remember my basic function. Good job. Can we refocus the conversation now?”

The sarcasm helps him focus. Helps him settle into the persona, into who he’s supposed to function as in this moment. He can lie his way out of this. He’s done it before. He can do it again.

“Okay, usually I’m all for calling him out,” Roman says, “but he’s said, like, two things this whole time.”

“Yes,” Logan adds, “and one of those was-- oh. I see.”

“What?” Thomas asks.

Patton gasps. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, no.” Patton looks at him, then, so much warmth and empathy in his gaze that he wants to die, just a little bit, because he doesn’t deserve any of it, doesn’t deserve his friendship, because the person that Patton thinks he is getting to know has never existed in the first place. “If something’s the matter, you can tell us! You know that, right?”

“Nothing’s the matter,” he grits out, but no one listens. He takes a moment to glare at Virgil, who stares back, nonplussed.

“Oh, hey,” Thomas says, looking surprised. Like he never considered the idea that something could be wrong with him. He would have liked to keep it that way, but it might be too late for that now. “Yeah, if something’s the matter, we want to hear about it. You don’t need to lie about that, Janus.”

And Thomas is so genuine in his concern, so compassionate, so kind to a side that he used to hate and fear. But it’s the name that sends him over the edge, the name that makes him flinch, hard, because he can’t escape it, can’t escape the fact that they all expect him to be something that he has never been, that he can never be.

He is whatever Thomas needs, but Thomas has never needed Janus, and he doesn’t know how to be something that Thomas doesn’t need. How to be a person in his own right, how to be the person they believe he is.

Thomas sees him flinch, because of course he does, because it was obvious. He steps forward, worry written plain on his face, but he mirrors the motion, stepping back. Thomas stops.

“Is there anything I can--”

“He doesn’t like it when you say his name,” Virgil says, and the room goes still. Virgil swallows, clearly not comfortable with the attention, but he soldiers on. “He didn’t tell me why.”

“Shut up,” he bites out, before he can stop himself.

“Is that true?” Thomas asks, asks him, all wide-eyed and hurt and he can’t take this--

“That doesn’t seem to make sense,” Logan says, and yes, please, keep talking, Logan, everyone pay attention to Logan now, thank you, “considering that he told us his name himself. Though, to be fair, the way in which he did so could be construed as an attempt to gain trust, rather than because he actually wanted to share.”

“Oh, come on,” Roman snorts. “Nobody was forcing him to say anything.”

“Oh my god, Roman, that’s not helping,” Virgil says. Defending him? That makes no sense, but alright.

“I’m just saying! He took his glove off all on his own--”

“That doesn’t mean Logan is wrong,” Patton ventures.

They just keep talking, all their voices overlapping and intermingling, talking about him, arguing about him like he’s not right here, and he backs up until he hits the wall. He needs them to stop, needs this to stop, needs to spend another week or two alone in his room before he can even think to face them again. He threads his fingers through his hair, pulling hard, but the pain does nothing to help him focus. He wishes he could cover his ears, wishes he didn’t have to hear this, wishes that today hadn’t happened at all. Wishes he could come up with an excuse, a lie to throw them off and redirect their attention, but his mind is frighteningly blank.

“Guys, enough.” Thomas’ voice silences the room, and then, Thomas turns to him. “Janus?” he prompts softly. “Are you okay?” And he means well, he does, but--

He can’t do this. Can’t do this at all, can’t think of a single lie to tell, and nothing else is helping either. He can’t think logically, and his rolling emotions are no help, and trying to summon bravado is a failure, and he is already so scared that he doesn’t see how indulging in any more anxiety could possibly help matters.

He needs--

He needs something else, anything else, anything but this, and--

He shifts before he can stop himself. And once he starts, he can’t hold back, can’t stop seeking comfort in another form because that’s what he always does when his own doesn’t cut it. He cycles through all of them, melting and changing and remaking himself with every second that passes, but nothing helps, nothing abates the buzzing under his skin or the ringing in his ears. But he keeps doing it anyway, because he doesn’t know what else to do.

And the damage is done. His eyes are screwed shut, but there’s no way they’re not all staring at him. The silence is deafening.

He stands there, trying to land on an identity, and finds nothing. Because there is nothing.

“Ja… Deceit?” someone says, and it’s Patton’s voice, trembling and unsure, and somehow, that is the breaking point.

He opens his eyes, meets Thomas’ shocked gaze. And then he sinks out.

He rises up in his room unsteadily, lurching. He almost falls, though he catches himself against a bedpost, panting. His form is still shifting, still fluid; he can feel the changes rippling across his face like rushing water, so continuous that it’s beginning to hurt. He stumbles over to the mirror and watches it, the parade of outfits and hair styles and eye colors, morphing and twisting his face into nothing he recognizes.

And then suddenly, he settles. On scaly skin, on one yellow, slit eye. On a bowler hat, on a capelet, on yellow gloves. It’s his default setting. The serpentine tempter.

He looks, and who he sees staring back at him is utterly alien. The image moves when he does, blinks when he blinks, and the same tears that he feels streaming down his cheeks are reflected there. It’s him, he knows, because it couldn’t be anyone else. But he feels so disconnected from it, feels like he’s looking at a stranger, and perhaps he is. Does he know himself? Does he have a self to know?

He stares, and the image in the mirror stares back. And then, he rears back and punches the glass.

The sound it makes when it shatters is the most satisfying thing he’s heard in a long time.

He stands there, gasping, heedless of the shards embedded in his hand. For a moment, he feels safe, feels secure, as if the enemy has been defeated, as if in shattering the image, he has shattered himself, too, and is finally free. But then, he feels himself shift, feels his body do it entirely without his permission, as if on instinct, and catches a glimpse when he can’t help but look down, a glimpse of capelet sliding into hoodie sliding into green sash into red sash into cardigan into hoodie--

His legs give out, and he lands hard. Glass digs into his hands and knees, but he can’t bring himself to move, can’t bring himself to do anything but shake and struggle for breath and hope that this will end.

He doesn’t know who he is, doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be. If he could figure it out, maybe this would stop, but he can’t think straight, can’t think about much of anything at all past the fact that it hurts, and that he’s scared, and that he feels as though his very bones are trying to burst out of his skin. It’s coming so fast now that he can barely keep track; he is Virgil, then Patton, then Roman, then Patton, then Logan then Remus then Roman then Virgil then PattonthenLoganthenRemusthen--

The door bursts open. Someone enters, black and green, and he can’t focus on their face, can’t do anything but flinch back as their footsteps approach, huddle in on himself and pray that they won’t hurt him, that they won’t exacerbate the pain.

“--ee? Dee?” The voice filters in, and it’s Remus, loud and shrill and concerned, and he wishes he had the strength to comfort him, to reassure him, but he thinks that if he opens his mouth, he’ll scream. He feels like his skin is sliding off, like it’s cracking open, and he has no way to anchor himself, no port in this storm, no control over what’s happening to him, and he’s so scared.

“--ell me what to do, what’s happening--” Remus is saying, and then there are hands on him, on his face, and he jerks away because the touch burns. Remus is still babbling: “--kay, won’t touch you, but Dee, please, you gotta tell me what to do--”

--then his room is suddenly full of people, people standing, watching, talking, saying words he can’t understand, moving toward him, and he flinches back and away, because he doesn’t want them here, doesn’t want them to see him like this, doesn’t want them near him because no doubt they’ll only make it worse and he can’t breathe and he can’t stop shifting because it’s supposed to help but it’s not, it’s hurting him, and he thinks he hears Remus shouting at them, telling them to get back, to go away, but he can’t--

Then, someone presses their hand into his, and tells him to breathe. The rest of the world dissolves into static.

It takes a long time for him to be able to follow their example, but he focuses on the point of contact, on their hand holding his, and part of him wants to jerk away as though he’s been scalded. But the touch is through his gloves, fabric separating their skin, and somehow, that makes it bearable. And the other part of his mind wants to hold on and never let go, so that’s what he does.

His breathing slows. The shifting stops, and the pain subsides into a dull ache.

He looks up, and Virgil is crouched in front of him, the rise and fall of his chest outlining a familiar pattern.

“Can you hear me?” Virgil asks, his voice quiet and the closest thing to calm he ever gets.

He nods.

Someone lets out a breath, a sigh of relief, and he looks around. They’re all here, all of them, crouching around him. Remus is closest, is right by his side, hands hovering but not touching. Patton and Logan are sitting to either side of Virgil, Logan with furrowed brow and Patton looking near tears himself. Even Roman is here, hovering over Logan’s shoulder, and though he’s keeping his distance, worry mars his face. He knows, knows he must look absolutely pitiful if Roman is worried about him.

And Thomas is here, too. Kneeling at his other side, kneeling in broken glass from the mirror, and all for him? After that wretched display, Thomas still came after him?

Thomas is looking at him. His eyes are shiny.

“Sorry,” he rasps, and then frowns. His voice is lower, rougher than he anticipated, and glancing at himself, it is easy to determine the reason. His hands are gloved, but purple-patched sleeves cover his arms. He’s Virgil right now, Virgil, even though the real Virgil is sitting right in front of him, is still, for whatever reason, holding his hand.

“Hey,” Virgil-- the real Virgil-- says, “don’t do that. C’mon.”

He pulls his hand away, trying to school his face into a glare, into any expression that would suit Virgil’s face better. He’s sure he looks miserable. His mind races, supplying him with biting words and insults, and it makes him angry, a bit, because where was this when he needed it? It’s too late, now, too late to pretend that this never happened. They’re all here, in his room, his safe place, his sanctuary.

Only, it hasn’t been that for a long time, has it? How long has it been since he was comfortable here? Since he was comfortable anywhere?

The realization makes him shudder, and before he knows it, he is sliding into Patton’s form instead. The grey cardigan settles around his shoulders, but it brings none of the comfort that it usually does. He just feels pathetic, and he knows the others must see it.

He can’t look at Patton. Doesn’t want to know what he’s thinking. Doesn’t think he could bear to see rejection painted there.

His breath hitches.

“Hey,” Thomas says, and he can’t help but turn to look, because he has never been able to help but do what Thomas asks of him. He turns to look, and through vision that is once again blurry with tears, he sees Thomas reach out. Slowly, accentuating the motion so that he has plenty of time to reject him, to pull away. He is tempted to smack the hand away, to gather up the strength to eject them all from his room and lock the door behind them, anything to avoid having to talk about this.

But this is Thomas, so he allows him to place a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You’re okay,” Thomas says softly. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay too, but we’re here for you.”

It’s not a lie. He knows because it chimes in the air, clear and bright and true, like a clamoring of bells ringing in the morning. No tricks, no subterfuge, just the one person he would do anything for, telling him that it’s going to be alright, that everything is going to be alright.

He forces himself to shift again, forces the scales back across his face, focuses on maintaining the gloves to cover hands that are cut and bleeding and embedded with glass shards. It itches, itches and burns and doesn’t feel right at all, but if he’s going to do this, he could at least try not to look like any of them while he speaks.

“No,” he says, and jolts at the sound of his own voice, strange and foreign. “You deserve an explanation.”

“Maybe,” Virgil says suddenly, “but that doesn’t mean you owe it to us.”

He swivels his head to stare at him, and Virgil scowls, glancing away.

“Look,” he says, “I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt you, back there. It’s just, you’ve been weird and spacey ever since you came to talk to me, and I just thought that if something was wrong, and I didn’t know what to do, then maybe somebody else would. But I’m sorry for going about it like I did.”

“I--” His tongue feels clumsy, thick in his mouth. An apology from Virgil is not something he ever thought he would receive, but this, too, hangs between them like a breath of fresh air, nothing but truth in his words. “Apology accepted,” he says, and it feels lacking compared to all that still lies unvoiced between them, but Virgil visibly untenses.

“Cool,” he mutters. “Don’t read too much into it.”

Despite himself, he smiles, just a bit, an upwards twitch of his lips.

And then, Logan clears his throat. “I don’t want to put any undue pressure on you,” he says, “but if you would be willing to discuss what ails you, I am in complete agreement with Thomas. Perhaps we can help you find a solution.”

He takes a breath to steady himself, taking a brief survey of the room, watching all of them gathered around him, attentive and unsure. He… could tell them, he realizes. He could tell them, and they would listen, and they might even believe him. He could tell them, and there is nothing stopping him from doing so but himself, old habits that have been ingrained in him over years and decades, habits that insist that he cannot afford to be vulnerable, that he cannot afford to show weakness, that the moment he bares his throat to them, they will pounce.

But looking at them, at Patton, so determined to help, at Logan, face open and non-judgemental, and even at Roman, who has the least reason out of all of them to want to see him well and yet is here anyway, he wonders if that is the case at all.

Thomas’ hand is still on one shoulder, a steadying point of contact. Without looking, he reaches back and finds one of Remus’ hands, still hovering, and guides it to rest on his other. Remus makes a sound of relief and tightens his grip, and it is almost uncomfortable, but it also serves as a reminder that he is not alone, for once, and that perhaps, he can have help, if he asks for it.

Does he dare do this? It will hurt him, and it will hurt them. Will likely hurt Thomas.

But, he realizes, it’s too late to prevent that. Thomas is already hurt, is already lost and confused and worried. The least he can do is tell him why.

So, he looks to Patton. If he’s going to share this, if he truly wants them to understand, he needs to start at the beginning.

“Do you remember what I used to call myself?” he asks. “When Thomas was young, I mean, before I was labeled Deceit. Back when you were Feelings and Logan was Learning.”

“I--” Patton’s face screws up in an obvious effort to remember. “That was so long ago, I don’t--” He pauses, mouth working silently, and then, his eyes open wide. “You know, I’d forgotten that we used to call you something else,” he says. He doesn’t sound happy about it. “Weren’t you Self?”

He nods. “Self,” he repeats. It’s been so long since he said the name aloud. It’s like an old favorite shoe, well-worn but now half a dozen sizes too small. “That’s right. Back then, I was entirely about self-preservation. Anything that boosted Thomas’ sense of self, I was in charge of.” He closes his eyes, slipping back into the memories. “Deception didn’t become a major part of that until later, until there were… issues. Until Thomas began to doubt himself more, experience more internal conflict.” He opens his eyes again, meeting Patton’s once more. “Then, I did anything I could to keep things running smoothly. I was… whoever I needed to be, whenever I needed to be them, as long as it would benefit Thomas. You usually didn’t catch me.” He splays his hands, relishing the sting of his bloodied knuckles. “I’m like glue, filling in the cracks.”

“You impersonated us that much?” Virgil asks, voice strangled.

He shrugs. “For all intents and purposes, I was you,” he says quietly. “I got used to it after a while. Too used to it, I suppose.”

“What do you mean by that?”

It’s Thomas who speaks now, low and urgent and worried, and he turns to him, turns to the man he has given everything to protect.

“As best I can tell,” he says, and he is not trying to be bitter, but something of the kind leaks through anyway, “I’m a… a mimic, of a sort. Or maybe just a mirror. I’ve spent so long being whatever was needed that I never developed into anything else, and then I told you my name and you started calling me Janus, and I-- I couldn’t handle it. I can’t.” He shudders, closing his eyes. He can’t bear to meet Thomas’ gaze anymore, can’t bear to see the condemnation he knows must surely come now. “I can’t meet those expectations. At best, I’m… a fake. A sham. Janus… it’s my name, but there’s not a person attached to it. Everything I am is built on traits I’ve taken from everyone else.” He shakes his head, a sour smile curling his lips. “Take away the lies, and there’s nothing left of me.”

“That’s why you don’t like us using the name,” Thomas says. “You don’t feel like it’s yours.”

“Nothing that I am is mine,” he answers, and falls silent, waiting for the sentence to fall, the gavel to pound.

For a moment, no one says anything at all.

“That’s not true,” Patton says, and the fierceness in his voice takes him aback. His eyes snap open.

“Patton--”

But Patton shakes his head, his face flushing pink. “No, you let me talk,” he says. “That’s not true, and I’m so sorry that we’ve let you feel like it is. I should’ve--” He breaks himself off, biting his lip. “No, that’s not the point. The point is that you’re not just a mimic, or a mirror, or what have you, and you should never, ever have been made to feel like you had to be.”

He didn’t expect this, didn’t expect a passionate defense. He’s not sure where this is coming from, not sure what he did to provoke this.

“I--”

“I mean, we’ve been spending time together, right?” Patton continues. “And you’ve been enjoying that, unless you were faking, but I don’t think you were. Do you really think that you were only having fun because it was something you’d done when you were being me?”

His throat runs dry. His first instinct is to say, yes, of course, because he’s spent so long thinking this way. But instead of his usual conviction, his mind fills with a buzzing noise, and he can’t bring himself to speak.

“I agree with Patton,” Logan speaks up. “True, there may be some activities that you initially took interest in for the purpose of impersonating one of us. However, that does not make your own enjoyment of those activities any less valid, or any less a part of who you are. You, specifically, not you when you are attempting to emulate one of us. Unless you don’t actually enjoy our chess matches.”

But--

“Yeah, and you don’t have to actually be one of us in order to feel something that one of us feels, or do something that one of us does,” Virgil says. “Just because Logan is Logic doesn’t mean that you have to be Logan in order to be logical. I mean, can you imagine if Logan were the only one capable of basic logical reasoning? You dumbass,” he tacks on.

That, at least, is enough to prompt an answer out of him. “It’s a habit,” he says weakly. His head is spinning. He doesn’t know what else to do, what else to say. How can they be saying these things so easily? How can they so casually uproot the foundations that his existence is built upon?

“You are worthy of personhood in your own right,” Roman adds, quietly. “I… I know that we have had our arguments. But you are our equal, just as deserving of an individual identity. There is nothing you need do to earn that.”

“You’re my best fucking friend,” Remus says suddenly, his grasp on his shoulder tightening. “You are. Not you trying to be someone else. I like you. I’ll kill anyone who says different.”

He feels a pang at that, because that’s just it. Remus thinks he’s his friend, thinks he likes him for who he is, but how can he, when even he doesn’t know who he is himself?

“I know it hurts to not know what you’re doing,” Patton says softly, “or even who you are, or who you’re supposed to be. But you’ve got us.”

“I don’t know who I am when I’m not trying to be someone else,” he says, the admission ripped from him almost unwillingly. “I don’t know who Janus is.” The tears well up again, and he lets them fall.

Patton is so kind. They are all being so kind, even Virgil, who hates him, even Roman, who he has wronged. What has he done to deserve this kindness?

“I think,” Thomas says haltingly, “that I’m gonna hug you now, if that’s okay.”

And he startles, remembering again that Thomas is here, too, even though he’s been quiet. Though he hasn’t been quiet, exactly, has he? They are all part of him, after all; they all make up his thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams, so in a way, Thomas doesn’t need to be vocal himself to make his opinions known.

The realization hits, then, as Thomas wraps his arms around him, that Thomas cares about him. And not just Thomas, but the rest of them, too, piling around him, Remus clinging to his back and Patton tucking himself into his side and Virgil laying a hand on his arm. They are here for him, came after him, and for the first time, he considers the idea that their regard might not be contingent on the presentation of a certain identity.

The concept is foreign to him. He has spent so long being whatever he thought they needed, thought they wanted, and that was what led him here, attached to a name with nothing behind it. He has spent so long pretending to be strong, to be cool, to be collected. There has never been time not to be, never been time to make himself vulnerable, to allow himself to discover who Janus might be, if given the chance.

He shudders, burying his face in Thomas’ shoulder.

“It’s okay not to know,” Thomas says, and the love and acceptance in his voice is so real and so true that he begins to cry harder. “You don’t need to know right now. But we can help you figure it out, alright? We’ll do this together.” His voice softens. “You’re not on your own.”

He doesn’t know who he is. Doesn’t know where to begin to find out. But that much, perhaps, he can believe.

“Okay,” he whispers, and just this once, lets himself trust.

----------

Patton is at the oven, cursing under his breath, trivial words like “shucks” and “darn” and once in a while, a particularly vehement, “Damn!” The kitchen fills with smoke and the scent of burning cookies.

He hangs in the doorway for a while before making his presence known.

“Not having any trouble at all, I see,” he says, and Patton jerks, spinning around. His face lights up upon seeing him, and he hopes the warmth in his cheeks isn’t visible.

“Hi,” Patton says, and laughs ruefully. “What, you don’t think I’m smoking hot?”

He has to bite back his instinctual response, which is just as well, because Patton continues before he can think of anything appropriate.

“I’ve still got enough dough for another try, if you wanna help,” Patton says cheerfully. “Um, is Janus okay right now or no?”

He considers. It still doesn’t fit quite right, doesn’t settle on his shoulders. But he thinks he can do this without falling into the mindset that he has to be somebody else, that he has to wrap another identity around himself. He can do this maskless, and if he finds himself faltering, Patton will help him.

He can do this. And it’s not perfect, but perhaps, here’s a start.

“Janus is fine,” he says, and steps into the kitchen.

Writing Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii

Part 2 Taglist: @bunny222

470 notes · View notes

kaqeyamas · 4 years ago

Text

♡ — folklore plots.

okay so, i just wanted to take a moment to make sure it’s known that these plots aren’t direct interpretations of the songs on taylor’s new album. they’re just ideas that i came up with based on little pieces of each song, or while listening to it!

The 1

give me a plot where muse a & muse b are exes. their relationship was actually pretty decent, despite muse b never showing enough attention or affection, hence why even after a year or two of being separated, muse a is still hung up on the other, and kind of searching for them in every new relationship and behind every corner. they were convinced they were the one, and seeing them again certainly hasn’t made that feeling go away at all??

Cardigan

“but i know you, dancing in your levi’s, drunk under a streetlight” and i’m just picturing this pair of friends who have always kind of gotten into trouble, who were absolutely the type in high school to sneak out to get drunk and wander around town together, whether it lead to drunkenly adventuring the sidewalks of random streets in town, drinking and dancing along the way, or finding themselves at the local lake with half a bottle as they talk about everything and anything under the moon. they were literally like... night owls and that’s when their friendship really existed?? and maybe as adults, they haven’t seen each other in ages and when they do all of these old memories come back like “wow i was never that happy with anyone else??”

The Last Great American Dynasty

toxic toxic toxic. these two bring out the absolute worst in one another, but one thing is certain -- the only way they were ever going to escape was if one of them died. muse a comes from money, and lives as such. expensive drinks, and infidelity. muse b is made into a monster in the town’s eyes, because they know of their partner’s cheating and they’re rightfully angry and upset, but they stick it out, because the money is too good to pass up on. it’s messy, and they’re constantly fighting, but when things are good? they’re so good. almost good enough to forget the bad.

Exile

muse a was growing restless in a relationship that felt like it was going nowhere, and muse b was oblivious to it, until it was too late. now muse a has a new partner, and muse b can’t stand it. but neither of them can truly shake the idea that they’re meant to be together -- muse b just needs to do something about it.

My Tears Ricochet

i’m just not writing this one out because i honestly can’t think of anything that’s not super toxic, and that’s not my cup of tea. (TLGAD already is pushing it; sorry y’all!)

Mirrorball

muse a has never truly felt like they fit in anywhere, until muse b shows up. they aren’t exactly sure what it is about them, but just being around them makes muse a want to be somebody completely new. whoever muse b would be interested in. making jokes to get noticed. wearing flashy outfits to keep their attention. but, at the end of the day, muse b thinks they’re perfect just as they are. this has super soft vibes and i’ll accept nothing less.

Seven

picture this -- they’re seven years old, and next door neighbors. fighting off monsters and building forts in their living rooms. their parents think they’re going to end up getting married when they’re older, and that probably would have been true, if muse b hadn’t switched schools senior year. fast forward ten years, and they run into muse a in their home town and every good memory comes flooding back because best friend love never dies.

August

this is nothing more than a summer fling. (or is it??) muse a and muse b get to spend three months together, wrapped in the sheets and enjoying the sunshine together. making memories and ignoring the reality that they couldn’t last once the season ended (maybe one of them had to go back home in august) but they made those three months count in every moment. smiles and love songs and fall came in and stole it all away. (make it angstier by saying this fling only happened because muse b had broken up with their significant other before the fling started but by august, they want them back, leaving muse a heartbroken)

This is Me Trying

muse a and muse b were head over heels. madly in love, and destined for it all. the big house, the happy family, wedding bells and all. until one drunken night, muse b makes the mistake of cheating on their partner. but they know they fucked up, and they’re not about to let the worst mistake they’ve ever made ruin the best thing in their life. they won’t go down without a fight, and if it takes apologizing for the rest of their life, they’d do it, just to get muse a back. lots of angst, and super sad. honestly?? i want this to make me cry.

Illicit Affairs

make my whole life and give me a cheating plot. but not the kind of cheating plot that’s built on toxicity and mindless decisions!!! muse a is married and unhappy with somebody that doesn’t treat them right. maybe it’s abusive, maybe it’s just empty and the passion isn’t there? cue muse b, who lives down the street and has always made a point to wave and smile when they spot muse a outside, and their friendship builds to the point of sleeping together on accident. but it’s not a one time thing, or meaningless. they fall into bed because when they’re together, it’s the first time muse a has felt alive in ages, and suddenly they’re in a whirlwind romance, sneaking around to hook up and share little moments together. muse a feels guilty and shameful, muse b hates putting them in this position but is too attached to stop, and they both know that muse a’s marriage is going to implode if they get caught. -- but that’s not enough for them to give up. (make it interesting -- let them get caught?? END THE MARRIAGE!! give me angst.)

Invisible String

you guessed it. this is a soul mates plot, and i’m not even sorry. muse a and muse b have never truly met, but their lives have always overlapped. whether it’s crossing one another in the grocery store, or sitting in a resturant at the tables that face one another. sitting in the same movie theater on opposite ends, or accidentally getting one another’s coffee at the local starbucks. after too many run ins, it’s impossible to ignore the similarities and the coincidences, and they decide to spend an evening together, getting to know one another -- and to nobody’s surprise -- they’re a perfect fit. muse a gets all of muse b’s jokes, and muse b likes all of muse a’s “flaws” and they’re just as dopey and gross as you’re probably imagining.

Mad Woman

i’m not writing this one either.

Epiphany

this one could go either way, and it’s entirely up to you and what fits your characters/what you feel most comfortable writing! muse a is either a soldier, or a healthcare worker. either way, they’ve both been through a lot, and seen more loss than any person should. but in a seemingly bleak world, muse b exists. the reason muse a works so hard. whether it’s somebody to come home from, after being overseas (if muse a is in the army!) or squeezing in time between doubles after a four car pile up came into the hospital (if muse a is a healthcare worker!), muse b is there to hold them, and remind them that there are good things left in the world and they’re just so healthy.

Betty

i’m just here to hurt myself at this point, but !!! give me a couple that everyone thought would make it. years together, and completely wrapped up in one another. they’ve been dating since high school, and now they’re about to enter their last year of college. muse a went back home for the summer, while muse b stayed at their apartment near campus. they stayed in touch, but as the summer progressed, muse b heard from muse a less and less, only to find out that muse a had spent the summer with somebody back home. when muse a finds out, they end things, but immediately regret it -- even if they won’t admit it. they’re just praying that muse b will come to their senses and come back. meanwhile, muse b is just trying to find the courage to face them, knowing that they only made this mistake because they were young, and thought they were bored of the “same old thing” even though it turns out nothing could ever compare to muse a. suddenly they’re at muse a’s front door in the middle of the night, knowing and hoping that they’ll get the love of their life back. (will muse b actually accept, despite how much they miss them? or will they slam the door?? will it be awkward if they get back together? will the trust ever come back??)

Peace

muse a has always struggled with money, but when they fell in love with muse b, they swore they’d do whatever they could to provide the best life for them. but words don’t pay the bills. no matter how hard they work, it feels like they’re always struggling to keep their heads above the water. while the late fees build up, however, there’s no denying that their relationship is based on the purest love. the kind of love that leaves a person speechless. muse a would do anything for muse b, and vice versa. muse a constantly feels as though the other deserves better, because they want to give them more. give them everything, and they just can’t. but they don’t realize that for muse b, their love is enough.

Hoax

alright, so... this one’s not healthy. but, i’m writing it anyways because i’m in love with this idea?? SO muse a and muse b have been on and off for years. they’re always finding ways to hurt each other, whether it’s flashing their newest fling in the other’s face during the breaks, or picking fights for fun when they’re still together. when it’s bad, it’s so bad. but when it’s good, it’s so good, in ways that only make sense to one another, because no matter how many people they sleep with or relationships they break, they always find their way back to one another, convinced that there’s not a single person that understands them the way they do. they’d rather be angry and fight than be without one another. no matter how many times they call it quits, their hearts belong to each other and nobody can even begin to compare. make this more interesting by developing growth!! make them realize it’s not healthy! make them realize what they want, and that they have to work to have it! sacrifices and affection! real love! not just passionate sex and pillow talk secrets. not just years of history, but the effort to make it work because wasting times on their silly game just isn’t working anymore!

#roleplay #1x1 roleplay #1x1 #plot bunny #plot bunnies #folklore #i only want to play a few of these but PLEASE feel free to reblog and use this for your own plots!!#wanted plots

121 notes · View notes

thoscheitrashdhawan · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t You Let Me Fall - Tom Holland x Reader

PART 4 OF ‘BABY’ - PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

Words: 3k

Summary: Over 2 years after you walked out on Tom, you’re happily married. Well, you’re married. But your feelings for Tom are still there, and your husband can tell that something’s off...

A/N: A bit of angst, a bit of fluff, and... that’s it. So this is the longest chapter so far, and I’m pretty happy with it. Also every title has been a lyric from the song Senorita and I love this line and it fits well with this chapter I think and,,, If you want me to type up the next part, let me know! And please give me feedback, I ThRiVe off it, and it lets me know how many people are reading and enjoying this series! (Also, @ the people who’ve sent me requests: ily! and i’ve seen them and I’ll post them soon I promise!)

9 months later, and you’d almost made yourself forget about Tom. At first, it had been hard. Even though you’d left him and married someone else, it felt like he’d broken your heart by leaving that night. When you’d gotten home, your husband was already asleep, and you’d collapsed onto the couch in tears, regretting everything. But you weren’t sure what you regretted more - going out dancing that night and seeing him again, or actually getting married to someone else. How could you have ever married someone else, when your heart belonged to Tom?

You loved your husband, of course you did, but you loved Tom too, and it had taken you so long to forget about him. Well, not to forget him - you knew that you’d never be able to do that, but you’d finally moved on with your life, married a man that you loved, and you were happy. Until you’d seen Tom again, and all those old feelings had resurfaced. Part of you hated him for crashing back into your life and causing you all this pain. But the more rational part of you knew that it wasn’t entirely his fault - after all, you’d left him with no real explanation, after promising to stay, and then when you saw him again, you didn’t tell him you were married. You’d wanted to stretch out the night forever, but you should’ve known that that could never happen. You should’ve told him the truth straight away, instead of lying to him and yourself.

That night had felt a lot like the story of Cinderella, except with an ending that was nowhere near as happy. You’d gone to a party, like her. You’d danced and danced without telling him the truth, and then at midnight, you’d had to run back home. But in this story, he hadn’t chased after you. He hadn’t tracked you down; he hadn’t even tried. He couldn’t do it, not a second time. Especially knowing that you were married - as much as he wanted to come find you, and be the prince who saved you from whatever horror you were going through… there was nothing to save you from, and he was a gentleman who wasn’t going to try and break up a happy couple for his own selfish desires. If he’d tried, then he wouldn’t have been much of a prince.

The next morning, your husband had woken up to find you on the sofa, finally asleep. He’d draped a blanket over your body, and made you a hot drink, which he left on the table, ready for when you woke up. And when you finally did, he sat next to you, putting an arm around your shoulders as you cried. You didn’t tell him what was upsetting you, but he didn’t put any pressure on you to do so, just wanting to help you through your pain in whatever way was best for you.

The heartbroken feeling decided to stick around for a few weeks, and he noticed, but didn’t say anything. He frequently asked if you were okay, but when you lied and assured him that you were fine, he decided not to push it.

Your husband was a huge fan of Marvel movies, and the two of you made sure to always see them on the opening night. So, when Tom got the role of Spider-Man, and your husband dragged you to the cinema to see the movie, it was hard, to say the least. It just didn’t feel right - the two men that you loved, in the same room. Of course, Tom wasn’t there physically, but watching him on the screen while sitting next to your husband felt weirdly like you were cheating on him. But, thankfully, your husband didn’t know about your history - although Tom’s fans knew you were his best friend back when you travelled with him, they’d mostly forgotten you now, and your husband only started liking Tom when he got a role in the Marvel franchise.

Each time you watched a movie with Spider-Man in, your heart broke a little more. And although your husband didn’t know what was causing it, he noticed. You were pulling away, and he could tell. And after nine months, he’d had enough. Something happened, and your trust in him was instantly gone. He was your husband, and no matter how you felt about Tom, you loved him. Or, you used to. Now you weren’t so sure.

You picked up your phone and keys, and ran out of the house, going to a local cafe. Before you could stop yourself, you were recovering your old Instagram account, and sending Tom a message. A few minutes later, it said he’d seen it, but he didn’t respond. So, you sent another one, which he also read. You sighed in frustration and put your phone away, choosing to focus on drinking your coffee as you looked at everyone around you, jealous of how content they all seemed to be. In your head, they all had perfect lives, and it felt like they were flaunting it.

A few hours later, it was starting to get dark out, and you headed back to the dance hall. You’d visited it once since you saw Tom there, but it hadn’t felt the same. Not because he wasn’t there - you’d gone dancing a few times since you got married - but because you couldn’t get that painful scenario out of your head. Everywhere you looked, you could see pieces of that evening. On the dance floor, you could hear his words echoing in your head. I should’ve said it sooner. I love you too. And when you’d left, after barely dancing, you could hear his words from the end of the evening. It can be like it was before, but better, because now we know we love each other. But as the taxi pulled up and you climbed in, you could clearly picture the hurt look on his face, the way his eyes had betrayed his emotions despite how hard he’d been trying to hide them, and the firm tone he’d used to say his last words to you as he walked away. I shouldn’t have come.

As you returned to the dance hall, all those memories came flooding back, and you suddenly wished you hadn’t come back. It was stupid, really. But in that moment, you weren’t thinking clearly. Your thoughts were centered around Tom, around the man you really loved, and you took a seat at the bar, watching everyone dance. You sat there for over an hour, just watching everyone and holding your now empty glass. With a sigh, you started to stand up, before seeing, in the corner of your eye, a man slipping into the seat next to you.

“Two Tequila Sunrises, please.” He said to the bartender, and you ignored him. It was probably you being crazy, but it seemed rude to get up and leave just after someone had sat next to you. He might end up thinking there was something particularly awful about him, if you did that, so you didn’t make a move, instead staring down at your glass. But the man was still vaguely visible in the corner of your eye, and you could tell that he wasn’t looking at you either, too busy looking at his phone, bringing something up on his Instagram page. You watched as he found a profile and thumbed out a quick message.

Another sigh escaped you as you wondered how long you’d have to wait before making a natural exit, but when your phone vibrated in your pocket, it distracted you, and you quickly turned it on, waiting for the notification to load. At the same time, the bartender came back over with two drinks, and the man next to you slid one over to you.

“You look like you could use a drink.” He simply said, and you looked up at him, getting ready to refuse, mentally preparing yourself to tell him that you were just leaving. But, before you could, your phone vibrated again to say that the notification had finally loaded, and your eyes flicked down to look at it.

You: Where are you right now? (Seen)

You: I’m going dancing tonight. (Seen)

[30 Seconds Ago]

Tom: I’m here.

As your gaze moved back to the face of the man in front of you, he gave you a soft smile and picked up his drink, waiting for you to say something. After a moment of silence, he took a sip.

“I was never particularly fond of these. I guess they grew on me.” He simply said, as an attempt to fill the silence.

“Tom?” You finally whispered, your voice cracking a little as you said his name. For some reason, it felt like all you could do was whisper, as if talking any louder would shatter the illusion that he was sitting in front of you once again. It just didn’t feel real. “You came back.”

“Of course I did. Sorry it took me so long, I wasn’t in the area, so I had to catch a plane.” He responded, putting down the drink and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I was kind of at the mercy of the pilot, but it was a 3 hour flight, so I got here as soon as I could.” You looked at him with a shocked expression, trying to process what he was saying.

“I sent you one vague message and you caught a 3 hour flight to come see me?”

“It was two messages. And I knew that you deleted your Instagram account, so you must’ve recovered it just to talk to me, and I figured you wouldn’t want to do that unless you really needed to talk, so I did what I could to get here. But I didn’t get a chance to respond, because as soon as I saw your messages, I started trying to get a flight, and then when I got to the airport, my phone had to be put on aeroplane mode.”

You nodded at him, feeling like you were in a daze. Your eyes stayed locked on each other as you took a sip of your drink, and let his words sink in. He flew all the way over here to see you, just because he thought you might be upset. He may have admitted it last time you saw him, but now you could see it; love. Dropping everything and getting on a plane after two messages wasn’t something that normal people would do, unless they were in love. Internally, you were kicking yourself. How could you have ever left him? How could you have walked out on him, when he so clearly loved you?

“Are you okay?” He asked, his eyes examining your face and immediately seeing how upset you were.

“Yeah, I-” You started, before taking a deep breath and starting again. “Something…” Your voice trailed off again, and you swallowed the lump in your throat before putting on a fake smile, standing up, and holding your hand out to him. “Dance with me?”

The worry was still etched into his features, but he took your hand and nodded, understanding that you were just wanting to change the subject, that you didn’t want to talk about it yet. That reaction was completely understandable, since the wound was so fresh, and especially since you hadn’t had a proper conversation with Tom in over 2 years, if you ignore the last time you’d seen him.

As the two of you started to dance, despite all your time apart, it felt natural, like you were born to hold each other. Tom was thinking the exact same thing as he looked lovingly over at you, and as you swayed in his grasp, he couldn’t help but think that your body fitted perfectly in his arms.

The rest of the evening seemed to pass by quite quickly, but that was at least partly due to the alcohol you kept ordering. Tom didn’t try to stop you, but every time you asked for another drink, the look of worry on his face only got more prominent. In between each drink, you were dancing with him, but it wasn’t the same type of dancing you’d been doing before - this time, you were letting loose; your bodies were closer, rubbing against each other with every movement you made. A few times, your gaze landed on his lips, and you considered closing the small distance between you, but never actually went through with it. Thankfully, the bar area closed after a while, so you didn’t have the chance to get properly drunk, just tipsy. More than just a little tipsy, but the alcohol seemed to be cheering you up, or at least taking your mind off the thing that was upsetting you.

When all the customers were finally kicked out, you pulled Tom’s arm around your shoulders as he guided you to the exit.

“Let’s call you a cab home, yeah?” He muttered, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone, but you started shaking your head.

“No, no, I can’t go home. Not yet.” You responded, vigorously shaking your head before burying your head in his jacket and clenching your hands into fists around the material of his shirt. Tom wrapped an arm around your shaking body, keeping you close to him as you continued to mumble words under your breath.

“Alright, I won’t take you home. But can I show you one of my favourite places in this city?” He asked, looking down at you until your head tilted up slightly so you could look him in the eyes, and you nodded. “Great. Come on.” Reluctantly, you let go of him, but he reached out to take your hand with a small smile, which you returned.

The two of you walked for 20 minutes, mostly in silence, until you reached his favourite spot. But, since it was the early hours of the morning, the whole area was pitch black, and you could only partially make out what was around you as he pointed out a bench, which the two of you sat on. And since the two of you hadn’t had a chance to catch up on each other's lives in over two years, you spent the time talking about everything that had happened, although you completely avoided the topic of your husband, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Tom, but he didn’t bring it up. At some point, you’d started to shiver, and he’d taken off his jacket, wrapping around your shoulders.

“Thank you.” You smiled, enjoying the warmth of his jacket and the smell of his cologne that was now surrounding you. “I missed this.” You murmured, after a beat of silence. “I missed these intimate little moments. But most, I missed you.” As you spoke, your hand reached out to sit on top of his, and you leaned a little closer to him. He smiled back at you, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but his hand lingered, moving slightly to cup your jaw. You looked up at him and you breath hitched as he leaned closer, but before your lips could touch, you pulled away.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No. It’s not what you think, it’s just…” You took a deep breath and looked at the ground, eyes getting teary just by thinking about it. “The thing that happened, the thing that upset me…” You paused again, swallowing the lump in your throat, and when you continued, your voice was barely even a whisper. “He cheated on me.” Once you’d finally said the words, you fell against Tom’s chest, trying to stop yourself from crying, or at least stop him from seeing it. One of his arms wrapped around you and the other gently stroked your hair as sobs wracked your body.

“I’m so sorry…” He mumbled, repeating the phrase a few times as he wasn’t quite sure what to say, and his voice was calming you down. “What can I do to help?” He asked, once you’d calmed down a little and were barely crying.

“Just stay with me, please.”

“Of course.” He nodded. He’d always stay with you, unless you said you didn’t want him. No matter what you were going through, he’d always want to be by your side. And he proved that, by sitting with you, holding you close, and listening patiently while you cried and ranted about your husband, feeling lost and not knowing what to do.

By the time you’d finished crying and had fallen into a comfortable silence, it was starting to get lighter, and you rested your head on Tom’s shoulder as you both watched the sun rise.

“This is why it’s my favourite spot.” He whispered, as the sky started to turn orange and pink above you. “There’s nothing in the way, and you can see the sun rise perfectly.”

“It’s a breathtaking sight, isn’t it?” You mumbled, looking out at the horizon, and he nodded.

“It’s a stunning one.” He agreed, though his eyes were fixed on you.

Your tiredness became obvious when you started to drift off to sleep, so he called a cab and gently shook you awake when it arrived. The journey to his hotel wasn’t a long one, but you were asleep again by the time you arrived, so Tom paid the driver and came round to your side of the car, carefully lifting you out of the car and carrying you bridal style up to his room. (He’d had to ask the receptionist to come and open the door for him, since his hands were a little full.)

He laid you down on the bed and pulled the covers over you, before laying on the floor at the bottom of the bed with the spare pillow and blanket that he’d found in a cupboard. It felt weird, sleeping so far away from you when the two of you used to sleep so close. But he knew it was best to be respectful; you were married, after all, and the two of you might still work things out. He considered it for a while before he started to fall asleep, too, and the last thought he remembered having was a simple observation that he should’ve noticed earlier. You weren’t wearing your wedding ring.

Thank you guys so much for reading, let me know what your reactions are, and tell me if you want me to write the next part! And if you want to be added to my Taglist for this fic, a specific person, any of my marvel fics, or everything (aka Marvel + Sherlock), then tell me in your comment/reblog or send an ask!

‘Baby’ Taglist: (people crossed out couldn’t be tagged) @ivegotparticulartaste @brokenhearted-littlegirl @jennyparkerpizza @ballerinaphan @focusedqueensblog @littlebookbengal @edrahil-nargothrond @mindset-jupiter @a-dorky-book-keeper @frog-face-wolfhard @estate-euphoric @ad-iuficium @shitemylife @harrystylesdolan @thenerdiverse @ollie-october @greenarrowhead @lizzy077 @invisiblelakes @lost-in-translating @ooftherails @spookydreamermugroad @x-lunar-moon-x @demonsintheair @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr @nvthvlyy @babyjesuscat @secretlittlewonders @philautia-love-of-self @what-a-fantasy

People interested in another part (tell me if you don’t want to be tagged): @courage-means-angel-wings @eve-morningstar @whatareyouhidingpeter @sparkling-halz @i-seeright-throughme @moonificantlou @putabirdonit1 @casualprincesss

Marvel Tags: @avengersassemblee @peterpandco @tc5322 @marvel-lock

139 notes · View notes

smolbeandrabbles · 5 years ago

Text

Sway Pt.10 - Finale/Epilogue - Danny Rayburn x Reader (Bloodline)

Thank you to @mandy23b for her creative direction on this 😘

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

Author’s Note: @stcphstrange I dedicate Sway to you. After Part 1 this series was no longer mine, but yours. And without you, none of this would ever have happened. I’ve said it a billion times, but words are genuinely not enough anymore. I owe this to you. Thank you ❤ This is the culmination of everything. If you want to know why I did what I did... The final scene here was always how this story was going to end. There’s so much throwback in this, it makes me really happy. Everything is left exactly where it should be. So I hope you enjoy the final part of this ride. 💜 This is for Danny! 💙 Disclaimer: As usual no characters from Bloodline are mine! Lyrics/Song not mine! Everyone else is fair game! Speaking of Lyrics, I gift you a playlist of every song I’ve used chronologically! Enjoy the Swaylist! Premise: After nearly 4 years, Danny Rayburn and you deserved to leave a Legacy that matched your love. It was up to you now to make that a reality... Words: 14,500+ Warnings: Swearing / A little bit of angst / Child Birth / Bloodline spoilers

Dearest Reader, This story was never Danny’s. It was always yours. Thank you for taking this journey with me, Linzi x

--- Man, this shit's unflatterin', all up in my head again I don't feel myself right now, maybe I should just lay down... I don't like myself right now, gotta find a way out What you feel is natural But I don't wanna feel this anymore Pick yourself up off the kitchen floor What you waitin' for? Girl, won't you stop your cryin'? I know that you're tryin' Everything's gonna be okay Baby girl, don't you hang your head low Don't you lose your halo Everyone's gonna be okay Baby girl Girl don’t hand your head low Don't lose your halo, don't lose your halo Girl, don't hang your head low Don't lose your halo, oh Girl, don't you stop your cryin' I know that you're tryin' Everything's gonna be okay Baby girl, don't you hang your head low Don't you lose your halo Everyone's gonna be okay Baby girl Everyone's gonna okay, baby... --- Your Parents House, Pre-Marco Meeting… “Y/N... I was thinking of sending a sympathy card to the Rayburn’s... do you want to sign it? Or will you send your own?” You turned around and looked at your mother like she was insane “Sorry? Who are you sending a card to?!” “Sally...” she read the look on your face again as it got worse... “...Or, maybe not. But I think we should give Nolan one.” “That’s better... much more appropriate. It’s not like they’re sending ME one is it? And I know who was more family out of Miami and the Keys. Hell, they should be sending YOU one.” “... Why do you hate them so much?” She asked it curiously, she wasn’t accusing you of anything. You sighed; “Everything they have ever done to Danny they have got away with... he sent me a letter I.... I just think they may well have had a lot to do with his death too... you know that shoulder thing I told you about?” “Yes... the car accident.” “Shit, really?!” You couldn’t believe it “They lied to you too?! Robert beat that injury into him. Because of what happened with Sarah... and they held Sarah over him for the rest of his life. You know they didn’t want Eve to have Nolan either right?” She put her pen down and crossed to you. You didn’t expect her to throw her arms around you; “Niña... why didn’t you say something?” “It’s not my place to come between you and your friends... or my business to tell you about Danny’s... But, now he’s gone... I kinda can’t stand you not knowing.” “Have you told your father?” You nodded “Yeah. As soon as he gave me the restaurant project... he needed to know everything...” “Then I will talk to him...” “About what?” You father had said some pretty choice words; you figured ties would be severed... You didn’t know how you felt about being the cause of the termination of an almost 15-year long friendship. But after Danny, you couldn’t help but think the Rayburn’s deserved it and your parents needed better friends. “Finding somewhere else in the Keys. We will certainly not be going back!” She sat you down and took your hands in hers, “Tell me everything, sweetheart... please... tell me everything...” You heard the front door slam announcing your father’s arrival, and he was surprised to see you both. “Girl talk…? Should I leave?” You shook your head “No. Papa. Stay. You need to hear all this too...” He looked to your mother and back to you “You told her about Danny?” “Yeah. But you both deserve to hear it all...” He sat; “Marco called me, he’s worried about you and the baby... sounds like the case isn’t closed.” He tipped his head “He’s a good man...” You nodded “He’s keeping me up to date… He’s a good friend, I’ll call him.” You took a deep breath, and once you had started there was no going back. Everything came flooding out, everything Danny had ever said about his family, everything you had heard from Eve... had observed for yourself. It felt better, to actually get it all out there. You realised just how much you knew and had kept to yourself. You knew by the time you had done you’d likely never have contact with the Rayburn family again. Your family were done. And you realised for once in your life, you didn’t care.

***

Your Apartment, Saturday, 12pm When Nolan returned to Miami from his first foray down to the Keys, you wondered if he would have the same impression of the Rayburn's that you did. You knew from experience that Danny had told him enough. You were surprised to find that he didn't. But, now, you couldn't trust a thing they had told him. Your reality was very different now... Danny had helped see to that; but you had to admit as friends of your parents your first interactions with them had left you feeling positive. It was just Danny... If Nolan had seen their interactions with Danny... If he knew their thoughts on him…?

You of course weren't going to just bring that up to the kid. But sitting here in your apartment trying to tell you that Danny was wrong, and he didn't get why Danny hated them and the Keys so much didn't exactly come off the way Nolan had wanted it to. You listened though. He almost gave up when he realised it wasn't having the effect he wanted - you still didn't want your baby to have anything to do with that part of Danny's life or family.

For the past few months of him being away with Eve you had been busy here. You were approaching the end of your own pregnancy, and you weren't sure if you were really ready to do this on your own. Despite the support network you knew you would have. Rebuilding the restaurant was taking time because you were adamant that everything would be exactly how it was before... Including staffing. Javi jumped at it before you even really had the chance to get the words out. Jason took the time, of course he wanted to return, but his best friend wouldn't be there anymore. Not only that, but you wanted him to be in charge!? "NOBODY knew Danny like you did. I'm not bringing in a head chef from nowhere... Jase... At least consider it." "I couldn't do what Danny did! I can't take his place!" “You can, I know you can. And I'm not asking you to replace him, but I need you... I can't reopen without you..." There was a heavy sigh "I don't want the title. Retire the title, it was his... And I can't promise I can do everything on the Menu... So much of that was Danny's own hard work. I can attempt it, and I can do the bits I can do, but some of it’s going to have to come off until I really get back into it. Even then..." "Jason... Honey... Don't worry about it. Absolutely, we'll do it your way - I'm more than happy to do that. But I need YOU in that kitchen... " When you started to talk about the restaurant, however, Nolan started to look uncomfortable. It made you hesitate... Then you made the mistake of asking him what was wrong. It upset you that he got upset, you rounded the table to him; " Nolan...? " " I'm sorry." "What? You don't need to be sorry! Don’t be ridiculous!" "I'm sorry!" Still he repeated it. You leant on the table next to him, more than just a little concerned "What for?" "It's my fault! He died and it's all my fault!" You were taken aback, what the heck was he talking about!?, Danny's death had nothing to do with Nolan... Why would he-? "Sweetie, what? No! Why would you say that?!" "B-because I did it. It was me! The restaurant was me!" You stared at him for a good while, not because you couldn't say anything, but because you knew by the look on his face that was the first time he'd ever confessed it out loud. You shook your head, and instead of doing anything he expected you to - leaving, getting mad, asking him to leave - you embraced him. "Oh... Nolan..." Danny owed money, you could already guess by the way he'd tentatively asked about insurance when Danny left, that Nolan had tried to help. He was a good son. "... You were trying to do the right thing... I get it... Sweetheart... It’s okay... " "It’s not okay... Look what happened! He went to the Keys and now he's gone...!!" "Baby, listen to me... It isn’t you fault... He came back to Miami, and I let him go... This is in no way your fault... Danny had plenty of chances to stay; he didn't. That's on him, darlin'... And I’m not sure what you're looking for from me. But I forgive you, just, please... Stop saying it was your fault... I can’t take that...” He wound his arms around you "... You think it's your fault too... Don't you? " "For not making him stay? Absolutely..." "Well it isn't... So, you need to do the same thing..." "It's hard to do..." "I know that..."

Suddenly Nolan almost jumped and let you go, eyes wide. His reaction only made you look slowly down to your stomach. “OH. I forgot; you’ve been gone so long you haven’t even…” “Oh…! Oh my God……!!” He went from looking scared to excited in the minute it took for him to get that sentence out “…Was that a kick!?” You laughed, sarcastically “Yeah. Welcome to my life! I hate it!” You held out your hand for his; “C’mere… ‘meet’ your sibling would ya…” You pressed his hand gently to your stomach, and relapsed into soft Spanish, trying to encourage another gentle kick. It was one of the two things that you were trying to get ‘Devan’ to become receptive to. Your language and Danny’s voice. The latter was extremely hard to find without putting a tape on – but you’d found a bunch of videos with his stuff… And Javi happened to have many a party at Viva Caputa on tape. “Ah-!” This time Nolan laughed; “Oh my god! How do you even live with that…!” “Uh. Ask your mother the same question! I just have to. Sometimes it’s actually OK. Sometimes it’s painful. You know, it’s more worrying when it doesn’t happen…” “I dunno… I don’t think I’d want that all the time…” But he smiled as it happened again; “I can’t believe you don’t want to know what it is!?” “…And ruin the surprise!?” You grinned, tugging Nolan to you to hug him again; “Nawww-! I just need to worry about you right now. Okay? One gendered Danny kid at a time. I can worry about this one later. For 18 years! And you’re not even done with all 18 of yours. Aw, Geez…!” “You do NOT need to worry about me.” “What-!? With your family! Nolan please…! Pull the other one!”

*** Previously, Little Havana…

It was strange being on this dancefloor again. You hadn’t been here since the first time. The first dance that Danny and you had ever shared; when this was meant to be a one-night thing… Now it was simply one dance of many… and one night of many, too. True to his word, though, Danny had taken you back to the same bar for his ‘New Apartment Celebration’ – although it was hardly a house warming party; considering you were the only one invited. It was nice to dance with him again like this; this time pushed up against his chest with your own; so, you could really bask in the intense look in his eyes. The torture that was the almost kiss that never happened. Your hands in his strong grip. The way his hands could wander wherever they wanted to the rhythm of this music, because there wasn’t a person in this club that he knew. Danny could do whatever he wanted to you here and you were going to allow it. You still had this teasing strength about you though; you were still certainly leading him as you danced, separate pieces of the same whole. You made it clear to everyone that he was only allowed to hold you like this because you were letting him. You took a break to people watch. But were more than amused when Danny would nudge your arm and say something like can we do what they’re doing?! Pointing out another couple on the dancefloor. Babe, we can do WHATEVER you like. He chewed his thumb thoughtfully with a smirk; and you knew exactly what he was thinking but not vocalising. The break also allowed people you knew who were also dancing here, but you hadn’t seen in such a long time, to come over and ask what the HELL had taken you so long to come back! Which meant you could finally introduce this world to Daniel Rayburn too. And, oh!, did they love him. More than once was he dragged away from you by other girls. Which just had you laughing because then their partners would drag you out on the floor. And it was hilarious watching Danny flex his dancing muscles with someone else. And how every so often he would flash you a HELP! Look. Nothing compared to being with him though. And you always knew that, as you drifted back together. This time the crowd parting. Like it had the second time you had done this on the beach at Rayburn House. How you wound you arms around his shoulders, and he placed his hands on your hips. And this crowd got it; at least better than anyone on that sand had. What you were, how you felt, what your bodies were expressing… The story you were telling. Your story had begun here. It was fitting to start a new chapter here too. This wasn’t just about his new apartment. This was also about him moving in with you… That meant a lot of things – a lot of changes. But a whole lot of love too… *** R.H. Consulting Services Head Office, Monday, 9:30am You stepped into Rich’s office with your paperwork in hand. You knew what you were going to do from the second you had started in that restaurant. You owed it to Danny and his legacy to run it yourself. And it would be a full-time job, even with Jason and Javi there every step of the way; “Rich...” this was still hard for you to do. “Y/N... Hey! You alright? The baby and everything...?” You nodded “Yeah, I just... wanted to hand you this...” He was curious as you held out the documents “It’s my resignation.” “What-!?” You stopped him “You don’t have to pay me or... you know, I just... there’s things I need to do. And if I can’t give you my 100% then I don’t think I deserve to be here... and you deserve me to give you 100%.” “Y/N...” Rich took the folder from you “... After all you’ve been through you can’t expect me to accept this and your terms...??” He placed it back on the desk in front of him and looked up at you “You will absolutely still be paid your maternity... at least don’t fight me on that one. But what is the new adventure?” “That restaurant needs me. I owe Danny. I’ve always owed Danny a lot… but... This is about the one thing I can actually do for him now.” “Ah.” He nodded “I see... but, I still can’t accept this.” “What-!? Why??!” He smiled “I’m sure that you’ll have some free time too, so... I would quite like to keep you on freelance... I certainly don’t want you getting any ideas in your head that we don’t want you, for once thing.” You stared at him for a moment, unblinking; “R-really?!” “Of course. Even if you’re working at 20%. I know this company needs you. You can be the consultancy’s consultant!” He laughed “I will consider this... but... I just don’t want you thinking you have to leave... you don’t. And we would be honoured if you stayed.” You were very nearly beaming at that “All going well… I will be very happy to stay... if I can, but, I’m making no promises...!” He nodded to his office door “Go on... you go reopen that restaurant... this place will still be here to welcome you back. You go make Danny’s legacy...” he smiled “That man deserves it.” You gave a nod, bowing gently as you turned to exit his office with a smile “That he does!”

*** Viva Caputa Reopening Party, Saturday, 8pm The party was small, close knit friends of Danny’s and your family. That didn’t make it any less of a success, the intimate setting probably even helped make it the jubilant affair that it was. And up until this point you’d managed to avoid the one thing that everyone in this room wanted from you. But when they all started chanting at you, you could hold it off no longer. You sat yourself on the bar and took your glass of sparkling water back; "Look, you guys have been on at me to make a speech all evening. And the truth is I could make a lot of anecdotal comments about Danny, about my time in this very restaurant with all of you good people, about his love - how much I love him and how much he loved me. And how much he loved YOU." Your look to Nolan was nothing less than significant, but you smiled "Truth is, I don't think I need to tell any of you anything you didn't already know. And... I don't think Danny would NEED me to or want me too. We gotta have our secrets." you winked to the laughs "Besides I still got a few weeks left of this..." They laughed again, and someone from the crowd yelled; "That better not be champagne!" "Sparking water! C’mon! Talk about the worst timing..." You gave a shrug "So really. I just wanted to thank everyone for coming along, it means the world to me and to Nolan too... And thank you those of you that are coming back here! Even if I somewhat strong armed some of you!" "Ah! We love ya!" Jason beamed making you smile back; "So. All I want to tell you all is... I love you. And here's to the next adventure. And most importantly - please, please, please, I what you to enjoy yourself. It’s what he would have wanted! And if you want to be the first set of people to write things for my dedication board, you'll find some card scattered around here!" You smiled, and raised your glass "To Danny!" "DANNY!!" The cheer went up with glasses of all kinds of mixers. You wanted them to drink whatever they wanted. This wasn't a funeral; you were adamant of making this a celebration. You wanted it to be the kind of thing you would find Danny himself at. You took a sip and turned back to the picture you had spent ages deliberating over that you had framed. "Danny's Dedications" in silver lettering above. You wanted people to tell him how much they loved him. To put photographs up there. To destroy that wall with anything and everything Danny they could find. You turned back to everyone with an even bigger smile; "I can declare Viva Caputa officially reopened!!" ** You locked up the front door with a smile on your face. That party had been a success, at least, everything seemed in order. All you had to do now was reopen to the public. “Oi! Amorcita...!” You turned to see both Javi and Jason sitting on the hood of a car opposite. “What are you two still doing here?!” Javi jumped up “No, no. We talk. You listen.” He opened the car door for you “Step in.” “You think I trust you enough?!” Jason laughed “I don’t really think you got much choice, us being the only ones around.” “Kidnap?!” You looked down at yourself “Only if we must!!! The baby will be safe-! Don’t worry!” Jason grinned as he rounded the car to the driver’s seat. Javi ushered you across the road “C’mon, Y/N... We want to take you somewhere we used to go with Danny... we figured today more than any other was a good one...” “You guys know I can’t drink, right?” “Ginger Ale, don’t worry I covered that.” Jason yelled through the open window “I wouldn’t leave you out. Now are you coming or what-!? The sun is setting Y/N!” You looked up at the orange and purple Miami sky. It sure was beautiful. “Time is ticking...” Javi leant against the open door “We’ll bring you back for your car. We would never leave Ms. Danny Rayburn stranded.” “Ms. Danny Rayburn...” you repeated with a gentle smile “okay... you guys got me convinced!” They drove you out of Miami, to a good clear spot on the horizon. Elevated enough to get a beautiful view of the city when you looked one way, but the sun setting out over the sea when you looked the other… Javi handed you a ginger ale with a smile, and both of them cracked open beers. “So. Danny and the both of us used to come out here to be idiots and let off steam. Like, you know, when he was still young and single and didn’t have MUCH better people to do with his time.” Jason’s little glace to your stomach was there in place of his smirk. Making you laugh. “Such a way with words…” You glanced at the horizon; it was beautiful. The colours that washed the sky. “…But thank you… If Danny liked it out here… He never took me.” “Maybe it was like… Something he associated with being single? Or with us. And not with you… I’m sure there’s a lot of places he took you he didn’t take us. What about the Keys? He never showed us anything down there…” Javier took a sip and walked over to you, folding his arms he also smiled. Your eyes flicked to both of them, standing there silently for a minute and smiling like that. You knew they were thinking of every single memory they shared with Danny up here. That was between the three of them. And that was fine with you. But this moment, watching that sun set on the first day of the rest of that restaurant’s life, just the three of you standing together… The way that they both brushed against you, gentle physical contact… You smiled, then bit your lip to stop yourself from crying. And placed a hand to your stomach when your baby stirred. You took a breath to stay strong and lifted your head again. “Danny would have loved this… Being here.” “He’s here.” Javier took a sip to counteract the fact he looked like he too, was about to be overcome with emotion. “…He’s definitely here.” They both suddenly, almost instinctively, placed they arms around you, and you were hugging them back. It was the safest you had felt since Danny had gone. Was it because of him? You had no doubt he was here. Probably scoffing and telling all three of you to get a grip. But… Here you were. Jason spoke up, a laugh in his voice as the sky turned purple – the last rays of light just visible on that horizon line. “…Yeah…. Y/N. You gotta bring your baby here and introduce it to everything Danny loved. YOU are his legacy. Not the restaurant. You.” *** Downtown Miami, early afternoon, Wednesday You had just arrived and parked up to meet Nolan for lunch. You guessed it was true what they said about it sneaking up on you... You were fine one minute, greeting Nolan with as good a hug as you could manage before suggesting a place to grab lunch. Without his father around Nolan had taken on the responsibility of looking after you during the later stages of your pregnancy, and quite well, you should like to add. But suddenly it wasn’t okay. And you gasped, sharp, and with a lack of air you reached out and grabbed Nolan’s arm. He stopped immediately “Y/N?” You winced and gripped his arm even tighter. “The baby?” It was all you could do to nod. This wasn’t the best time or place, but at least you were with someone. Panic instantly crossed his face and you felt the tension that ran through his body under your fingertips. It ceased almost as fast as it came and Nolan cleared his head and put on a brave face. “I need to get you to a hospital!” You nodded “Can you drive?” You had to fight through your own pain just to say that much. He nodded again; you handed him your car keys “Then you gotta...” his eyes flicked to your car, there was nothing else for it. Getting you back to it as quickly as possible he dialled ahead; the nearest hospital was Mercy. Your mother had worked there in the past, they knew you, he was a smart kid. There was hardly a waver in his voice as he proceeded to start the ignition and tell them that Y/N Ervin was about to have a baby and he was driving her there RIGHT now!! Nolan was just a kid but he drove that sports car expertly. He ran a few red lights but was nothing short of fast but careful. You’d tell him you were proud of that, if you weren’t focusing so hard on what was happening to you. It hurt, of course it did, but the contractions brought with them another pain. Danny wasn’t there. Danny would never be there, and Danny would never see his baby... you had to bite back your crying at least until Nolan had you to the right place. Pulling up outside the hospital he slammed on the cars warning light and sprinted around to your side; “Do you think you can walk?” You shook your head “Okay. I’ll carry you...” “Nolan...! I...!” “Don’t be stupid! I want to help! I’m about to get a little brother or sister! Hello!” He swept you up into his arms and hurried you through the sliding hospital doors. As expected from your name, people were awaiting you, allowing him to place you safely into their care. He was about to run off to park the car, but you grabbed his hand. Danny couldn’t be there, so you damn well wanted the next best thing... They quickly had you changed and induced and Nolan sat with you, taking your hand in his. You would spare him if you thought you could do this alone. There was no time for anyone else. Labour was intense but mercifully short, compared to what you had been preparing yourself for after reading up on as much as you could. Nolan, like a true champion and to his credit - held firm, let you squeeze his hand so tight you left marks on his skin, let you hold him and cry... until it wasn’t just your crying that filled the hospital room. And then you were crying with relief. You put your hands over your face to try and wipe away the tears, and it was Nolan’s turn to stand and put his arms around you. Even the doctors smiled watching the two of you as you put your arms around him in thanks. He didn’t need to do this - he was your hero. “Congratulations, Ms.Ervin... You have a son.” That made you almost cry again, but you laughed instead, in joy. “I have a brother?!” Nolan’s face reflected yours as they handed the bundle of blankets to you. He was small, and you held him in your arms delicately. You almost wept again; his eyes were that unmistakable gorgeous blue that you would continuously fall for... He had been blessed with Danny’s eyes. You had selfishly wanted that most. “... Did you... have a name in mind??” You smiled. There had only ever been one choice since Danny had run after your parent’s car. “Devan. His name is Devan...” you thought on it for a moment “I’d like to call him Devan... Daniel... yeah...” you agreed with yourself “After his father. Devan Daniel Rayburn.” Nolan didn’t say a word, but the smile on his face said everything. Then his eyes widened like he’d remembered something. “Oh-! I… Should I go and… I should call people – right?” Your laugh was weak; that had completely skipped your mind, but Nolan at least needed a break after all that “Sure, sweetheart. Thank you…” He leant over again and kissed your forehead, beaming; “I’ll be right back…” As the door to the room closed the doctor went back to his paperwork; “His father is...?” “Daniel, Danny, Robert Rayburn...” You still hated that. Even now. “And... can I ask his role in this?” You understood why he’d ask the question. Danny wasn’t here. Like you needed any more reminding of that fact. “He won’t have one...” you bit your lip “He’s... Deceased. As of 6 months ago...” The doctor immediately looked like he wished he hadn’t asked, in a ground swallowing him up way “God- I’m sorry...” “No... I understand why you might need to ask...” “And the kid?” “Nolan? Danny’s son from a previous relationship. No relation to me. Danny moved in with me and Nolan has a room but, I haven’t adopted him or anything... he’s still got his mom and I have a good relationship with her... so... it’ll just be Devan and I...” “But you’ll have a good support network?” “My parents. And friends... Nolan and Eve. It will be hard without Danny. It’s… hard without Danny, but it��s not impossible. I have some really good people around. Work has been extremely supportive, you don’t have to worry about me!” There was a smile on his face as he filed the sheets; “Well, Y/N… I can certainly see that.” For a few minutes you were left alone with your baby. And it was respite you desperately needed as much as you didn’t want. You could hear Nolan’s voice speaking to the doctor outside, and every so often you could hear people yelling and running down the corridor. Smiling every time you realised one of your friends had turned up. Almost crying when you heard your parents. But they all left you, for a little while – asking the doctor all the urgent questions they had – at least by the sounds of it. You held him close to you, and tried to imagine everything Danny would say if he were here. That wasn’t hard, Danny’s voice had been in your head for long before he’d been taken from you. And everything he’d said to you when you had told him, when he was back in your arms here, over the phone… all of that was replaying now. Devan’s tiny fingers found and grasped at the fine gold chain around your neck, holding it firm. That made you smile, he wouldn’t understand yet… But one day you were going to tell him every little thing about his father that you possibly could. “…Hey… Little one… Be careful with that…” You gathered the ‘D’ between your fingers; “This was from your daddy… And it is the most important thing I own…” you smiled sadly “I can’t wait to tell you all about him Devan… I know he would have loved you so much…” You thought about Nolan then, and tried very hard not to cry, whatever Danny thought of himself you were thankful at least that he had had the opportunity to be a father. * When you weren’t at the restaurant you spent a lot of time lazing at home. You spent the first couple of weeks at home with your parents, and then you moved back into your own apartment - where Nolan was almost a permanent resident. And proving himself to be the big brother you knew he always would be. Until you assured him that he didn’t have to stay, and you could have Devan all to yourself. And you certainly couldn’t resist him and those blue eyes. Every time he looked at you all you saw was Danny. And you loved it. Javi and Jason, Amanda, Evelyn all stopped by from time to time, and you loved every single one of them for it. In fact Javi and Jason were now always referring to Devan as their son; “Can’t we call him by his middle name?!” “NO!” “Daniel! See-! He’s smiling he likes it!” “Javier I swear to god-!”

When no one was around you once again immersed yourself in music. But it wasn’t just Danny’s playlist that filled the house. But also his voice. After you’d heard the content, you’d found somewhere to copy them from tape to audio file. And everyone had scraped together any footage of Danny they possibly could, it didn’t matter how short, or when it was. Even John had sent some when requested... You knew that tape off by heart now. You could join in with every word, every breath he took, every sob and laugh... it was a part of you now.

But your real reason for doing this was your son. You wanted him to know his father. Everything he could, and that started with Danny’s voice. Even if Devan simply knew what Danny sounded like that would be enough. And you treasured every message you got that read something along the lines of “I found another Danny clip!” Even down to the one Amanda accidentally took where all you can really hear is Danny laughing before she realises her camera is still on and filming and says “Oh Shit!” The whole thing is blurred and looking at the floor. But it’s such a genuine, lovely, pure laugh that you cherished it anyway. ***

Three Months Later, Viva Caputa You looked up as she walked in, marveling in a place she’d never been. “JANEY!!” You almost screamed it, running around the bar to grab her into a hug. “Y/N!!” “You made it!” You laughed “You made it up to Miami!!” “Are you kidding!? You and Nolan talk about this place ALL the time.” “Aw, let me get him for you. This one is on the house...! You here alone?” You walked back up the back of the restaurant “Nolannn..! Break time! Someone is here to see you!” “Alright - give me a minute!!” He called back, you knew that meant Jason was probably trying to teach him something complicated. Javi sighed, “Aw, great, I get all his work don’t I?” You patted his arm “Yeah that’s it, my friend..!” Janey turned, and then gasped at your dedications board. You watched her reactions as she crossed to it and began reading... She delicately moved a few of the photographs around until she found your final ultrasound scan. She turned to you; “Do I get to meet him?” You wondered how much Nolan had told her, you nodded; “If you stick around... my parents will bring him up...” you nodded to the board “Would you like to write one?” “Really?!” “Yeah, everyone gets to write one if they’ve got something to say. I change it around every so often... it’ll be nice for something new!” you leant over the bar for your pack of notecards and a pen “So if you have any pictures, darlin’... you may submit them too!” you handed them over “Anyways, you didn’t answer, you here alone?” “Oh. Uh... no... my, uh, my dad drove me...” You raised an eyebrow, John was here? That was interesting. “Janey!” Nolan appeared, allowing you to take your leave; “You two sit, give me a minute...” you were curious as to why John had let her walk in alone, and why John was staying outside. Come to think of it - when it came to John, you had a lot of things to be curious about. You walked out the front door and stopped. He was standing about 5 paces away from it, and as you walked out you’d startled him, long enough to hold your gaze for 2 seconds before he looked back to the floor. You folded your arms “You’re not coming in?” “Was that a statement or a question...” the guilt in his voice was obvious. “Did you just come to bring Janey, or did you come for something else?” your words weighed heavy and his shoulders slumped as he sighed “...Both... I think...” You tilted your head “Do you understand what you meant to him? What you mean to me? What you mean to Nolan?” “Yeah. I get it.” They sounded like questions he’d asked himself for a long time. “Do you?” You took a deep breath “Did you do it? John? Was it you? Whatever you told Nolan was good - and I appreciate it because the kid believes it and doesn’t have to live with whatever the truth is... but I have a letter and three tapes that would say otherwise.” You took a step back “Did you do it?” “If you don’t want him to live with it, why would you want to?” “Because I need to know. Nolan doesn’t but I do. Nolan is 16, he knew Danny. My son doesn’t, he never will… When he grows up, he will ask me. And what am I supposed to tell him if I don’t know myself?!” You refolded your arms “Because, John! I have to tell my son one day that his dad was murdered whilst 48 hours before he was here in Miami, safe. And I let him go…!!!” You had the guilt weighing on you as much as Nolan did “I did that… I held him here… And I let him go… Please, just prove to me that there is someone in your family who knows how to tell the truth!” The pause was long, he weighted his options carefully. Then he just nodded. But you felt relief. Because you were sure you already knew. And you already knew your decision. “...I know what you want me to say but I won’t. Because he wouldn’t want me to. Danny would want me to forgive you because that’s the kind of man he was... and I do. Because when my son has questions about the Rayburn’s, there is only one I could ever trust him to go to.” “Don’t. Don’t tell me you forgive me.” “But I do.” You shook your head “My faith asks it of me also. I’m done being mad about it, John. I’m not over it... but I’m done being anything but grateful for what I got to have because of him. Devan and Nolan are my priorities now, but make no mistake I HAD to know that.” You stepped forward; “... You know I’m never going to see you in the same way again. But I can’t hate you. And to have that over me for the rest of my life? No thanks. From what I hear your family is getting what it deserves. You spent your life doing things for them… I kinda want you to enjoy your freedom...” you shrugged. “... Lowrey sent you Danny’s tapes?” John was backtracking your conversation now “... I... have no idea who sent them... I got a box addressed to me with a note telling me Danny wanted me to have them. One is for me and me only.” And you would cherish that as the last time he would ever tell you he loved you “... one is the tape he sent to Lowrey about you and your family, yeah. And the other is just... And entire explanation of what he was doing in the Keys that is frankly horrifying and I’d like to forget. A good confession tape if ever there was one...” “Then how do you-” “His letter warned me about you. His tapes framed it all perfectly. It wasn’t even putting two and two together. I just knew.” You took the step down to his level, arms refolded. “Besides... John, now you’re here I can ask you to do something pretty important.” “What, for you?” Your eyes narrowed slightly like he was asking a stupid question: “For my son. For Danny’s son.” “...Oh.” He was quiet for a second “Devan.” That made you smile; invested enough, it seemed “Yes.” He appeared to smile at that “I can’t promise I’ll be any good.” You thought he was catching on well. “It’s what Danny would have wanted.” “I’m not sure if what Danny wanted should really be what I’m doing.” You smiled; “Well. I want it too. John. You’re the only person in your family who ever treated Danny like he was a part of that family. He was your brother. And he loved you. I mean it; about forgiving you... so please. Just do this one thing for him. And be a part of his life... there should be a Rayburn in Devan‘s life. And I’ll be damned if it’ll be anyone else.” Then his smile was genuine, even though he looked to the floor “Okay. I’ll be his godfather. And I will try to be... what he needs from my family. But Janey, Nolan, those kids will be better than-” He froze suddenly as you threw your arms around him; “Thank you-!” And suddenly he couldn’t help it; and tears welled up and spilled down his face; he wound his arms around your shoulders; “Y/N.... Y/N I’m so... I’m so sorry... I’m so, so, so sorry...” You shook your head “It’s over... John... I’m sorry you ever felt the need to do it... I’m sorry you ever got into that state... I’m sorry for Danny too... he deserved a life...” “I know... with you...” “With or without me... that boy deserved the best...” you were crying into his shirt too, John could feel it against his shoulder “... If I gave him half of that... I don’t think I could have given better...” “You couldn’t. Y/N. He loved you.” “I know John. I love him too.” You stood like that for a few minutes. In the Viva Caputa parking lot like it wasn’t the middle of the day and there weren’t people in the restaurant who would see this. “John. We need to agree on something right now.” When you were sure your tears were dry again and you might actually be able to face him again, you spoke up. “What?” You stepped back, your hands on his arms “... We are never ever talking about this again. Ever. I forgive you. The end. I don’t want to ever have to utter another word.” “You’re sure?” You gave a firm nod “Those boys will never know. You understand. No one else is ever going to know.” “Okay...” John bowed his head, feeling unworthy of such a request; “Then I agree.” Your parents arrived not 10 minutes after you’d settled John in with his daughter and nephew and instantly Jason and Javi stopped working; “Hey you two! You have a restaurant to run!” “Yeah no, Y/N! Not now our son has arrived.” “Why don’t you get your own kids...!” “I think you’ll find you told me that I shouldn’t have kids!” Javi yelled after you as you opened the door for them; “Oh! I stand by that!” Jason hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time. “Mama!” She offered you a hug and a kiss on the cheek as she handed Devan over. “Has he been good?” “That boy is an Angel.” “Yeah. About as angelic as his father I bet.” You nuzzled him gentled as he giggled, grabbing fistfuls of your shirt and hair. Your father kissed the top of your head and then Devan’s “Don’t worry, she says it because we get to give him back.” Your mother scowled at him “I’d never give him back if I had the choice.” You combed your fingers gently through Devan’s dark hair. He was gonna get that side of Danny’s family as much as he was going to get it from the Hispanic side of yours. You were heading for Nolan 2.0 you knew. And you were A-OK with that. “Oh-! My darling boy!” “John and Janey are here?!” Your father offered a wave to their table with a smile “Mmm hmm!” “Ah-! Excellente!!” You sat next to Janey as your parents immediately set upon Favourite Son Numero Dos - John Rayburn. “Janey. Meet Devan!” “Oh-! Aww-!” She immediately motioned to take him off you, and you were fine with that. She held him up for a minute until he giggled again and then hugged him close. “Oh-! Oh-! Y/N he’s gorgeous...!! So adorable!” Nolan leant on his hand “Yeah. When he’s not crying... or whining... and you’re also only saying that because you’ve just met him.” You gave Nolan a look “What are you trying to say?!” “Uh. He’s a baby. That’s what babies do.” Janey looked to him disbelievingly; “Does he cry a lot?” She turned back to you, “No. He’s quiet... he’s a good boy...” Nolan made a scoffing sound, but also smiled taking his little brother’s hand in his. “Hey buddy...” You mouthed to Janey “Coolest big bro ever..!” “He wishes!” She winked and mouthed back, causing you to hide your laugh behind your hand. At this point you caught onto your parents conversation; “…Has Y/N invited you for dinner?” This made you look to John, and his awkward swivel to you. You gave nothing away on your face, he hoped you would. His eyes flicked back to your parents “Uh… N- No… It’s okay we can probably-” “John, please. You should come for dinner.” You smiled “You and Janey should stay. You’re family, right?” “…Well…” He studied your sincere look for a moment, if you meant it… “AW! Dad! Can we?!” Janey made you raise an eyebrow at him expectantly; “…Besides then I get to spend some more time with this cutie!” John’s eyes kept on yours and he smiled, “Thank you… Jack, Maria… Y/N… We would… love to stay for dinner.” You left Javi and Jason to it soon after that, and paid close attention to the way John paused at the ‘Danny’s Dedications’ picture by the door; “Did you do this…?” His voice was solemn “I set it up. A lot of it is me… I guess…” You smiled, “…But a lot of it is just… people who loved Danny.” You tipped your head “Why. Don’t you think you deserve to write one?” “…I wish he said more about it.” “What if he did…?” Your eyes followed his to the picture and you smiled; “The Keys may have called him back. But John, this was always home… I think Danny wanted to keep the two apart. I think he tried to put them together too often. It never worked out… I’m just glad everyone here loved him… All Danny ever deserved was love.” “He got you…” John took a card from the stack by the door and a pen and scribbled something “…You meant more to him than the Keys ever did.” He slotted it behind a bunch of others and turned to you “…I’m sorry… I took him from you.” “Yeah. And I’m not going to let you do what he did.” You took John’s hand in yours and pulled him from the restaurant “I will NOT force you to live with that guilt the rest of your life John. Danny’s memory deserves better than that.” * Dinner was as quiet as it was loud, neither John nor you really said anything. You guessed you both had a lot to really think on right now. You caught eyes often and each and every time all he could see on your face was reassurance. You were done being mad at his family – you’d decided months ago that cutting them from your own completely was the only way to close this for yourself. John and Janey were different from the rest of them… And this was clearly a road you and John were about to walk together for the rest of your lives. You trusted him to keep you straight on this one. Whenever John did talk, and most of the talk was about Danny, he was speaking to you – directly, even though the whole table was listening to his stories. Good things, he’s only telling me good things. He wants me to know GOOD things… You weren’t even sure you’d ever heard John talk about his brother; at least not like this to you. Probably because Danny was nearly always around when you talked to John. You wondered to yourself if you’d ever thanked him aloud. He’d been the only person in that family back then who’d accepted you and Danny together. Even now, you wondered if that was still true… Probably. But you hardly cared. Especially when John was making you laugh so hard the tears you were crying were finally good ones… They left without a spectacle. They wouldn’t be staying, but, thank you and certainly don’t be strangers! You all stood on the steps of your parents’ house waving goodbye, and John checked the car as Janey hopped in the passenger seat. But then, you thought, you couldn’t just say goodbye like this; “John!” He turned back and stepped away from the car as you ran to him. Your embrace was tight; and he mirrored it instantly; “Please… don’t stay away… I want you to know your nephew.” “…I will… I promise… I think I owe it to his parents, huh?” You laughed and let him go; “And… I’m sorry about Diana…” “Well. I guess it’s just another thing that happened… huh?” It wasn’t a happy smile, but you understood it – so you couldn’t help but smile the same way back “I guess so…” “Look. When I’m settled back in Islamorada… Come down.” “OH I-” “Not. Not the house… I get it. You don’t want Devan to have anything to do with us. And that, after what you’ve been through? What I’m sure you know, is fair. But there’s so much that… Danny and I used to do as kids that… I’d kinda like you, and his kids, to see…” You laughed gently and folded your arms “Okay… I’d… like that a lot.” This smile was certainly genuine “Alright. I’ll give you a call…” This time John reached out to hold you; “…Take care of yourself Y/N… And that little boy of yours. And the other one. He needs it too. He’s certainly trouble!” “Oh-! His father’s son Nolan is!” You grinned “You take care too. You have two beautiful kids, John. Especially this one…” you nodded to the car “Keep them straight. And… If you ever want to head up State…” You gave a shrug “…You always have a place to come.” “Thank you.” You shook your head “No… Thank you.” *** Previously, Viva Caputa… “Oh my Gooood!!” Jason lyricised from the kitchen as you strolled in. It was early morning, the restaurant was open for breakfast already, but there were only a few occupied tables. “She’s in before work, it must be serious...!” “Jase!” You rounded the bar; he was the only one in the kitchen. “...Wait! What’s going on?!” “Danny is either late or not coming in!” He smiled “Just me...” he waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen “I mean it’s hardly surprising...” You scoffed, Danny was never ‘late’ at least that’s how his saying always went; “Well I had an early meeting in the city, and now I have to head to the conference center...” “Girl, I can make you breakfast better than Danny ever could...!” He turned to his work station “I can be done in 5 minutes. Come back here, help yourself to coffee! I trust ya!” You sat in the back of the kitchen for about a little while with Jason. Like Danny, just watching him set about cooking was a calming experience. You thought you needed that before you went off to that conference… An engine outside made you turn your head, Jason turned with a grin at the way your face completely lit up. “A crap sounding engine like that can only belong to that piece of junk your boyfriend drives!” “It’s NOT junk! It’s a classic! And he’s your boss.” “Oh, here she goes! Getting me in trouble again!” “…Never---!” You put your cup down and exited the kitchen to Danny stepping out of his car “OH! MY! What are you---!? Doing---!!” He laughed and accepted your hug as you borderline threw yourself at him; “—I have a day of just… Horrific work! So, I thought I would come by!” “What the hell were you doing in my kitchen…” He brushed your hair back with his palms and cupped your face “…How long have you been up!? Geez, it’s still early!” “…Too long.” You leant up to catch his lips, and he tasted the coffee. That probably explained it, “Jase said I could come back, so I did.” “Oh-! Yeah Mr. In-Charge in there…” Danny claimed your lips again. “Okay, come on… Breakfast… I get it.” “To go. I gotta go…” “To go!? Screw that, Y/N! I’m making you sit down an eat.” “Whyyyyy…!?” You put on your best whine as he took your hand and walked you back into the kitchen, “Because then I know you’ve eaten.” You almost rolled your eyes with a laugh “Oh God. Not this again…!” “Yes! THIS!” “Danny I can’t stay… Like…” You looked at your watch; “I just can’t… This conference starts in-” “Okay. Okay. I get it.” He turned and grabbed your waist, pulling you into him with another kiss “…Then come back, for lunch. Or I’m gonna worry.” “…Okay… Fine. Lunch.” “…Alright, Baby Girl… But at least let me send you off with something…” Jason called from the kitchen; “I got her covered.” Danny’s exasperated look made you laugh as he turned to yell back “You are NOT supposed to encourage her to eat more sugar!!!” “Oh-! Sorry boss-! That’s not what she told me!” * It was always great to have a lunch date with Danny, today was no exception. And he let you tell him about your exceedingly boring conference experience. But, yes, your presentation had gone well… Thank you! Of course, you weren’t sure if he really cared about the subject itself, but he certainly cared for your wellbeing… You were just leaving the restaurant as Nolan was coming in. Viva Caputa wouldn’t get busy for another couple of hours, and Danny liked to bring Nolan in to teach him things sometimes. Danny had insisted to you that Nolan was a natural. You wouldn’t be surprised at that, both Nolan’s parents were very creative. You hoped that you had a little bit of influence on the more logical, mathematical side of his brain. You’d at least been a good influence on his languages… “Hey Nolan! How’s it goin’?” You were kissing Danny goodbye and walking out the door as he was coming through it. “Good! Good! Y/N! Yeah! How are you?” “Great-! Yeah! Just off to see my friends. Hopefully not going to be doing a whole lot of day drinking… As I’m driving…!” He responded to your Spanish in kind; “Have a great time with your friends!” Nolan had you beaming; “I will! I’m sorry I can’t stay! Have a great shift – you stayin’ for shift?” “Yeah. Probably.” “Alright! See you back at home later!” After you hung out with Amanda and Evelyn you’d head to your parents for dinner, Danny would drive Nolan back to yours and he’d at least stay the night, if not all weekend. You knew you’d be the one sorting the details – you made a mental note to text Eve about it later. The door swung closed behind you and they both watched you walk to your car. Utility, rather than sporty today. The terrace you were meeting your friends at had on street parking. You didn’t fancy parking a whole lot of money in a Miami street bay.

Nolan leant on the counter next to his dad. “…You ever think about it…” Danny raised an eyebrow like he’d missed a wavelength, or beat in the conversation “Think about what…?” “Your future with her…” “…All the time.” He frowned momentarily at his son “ALL the time… What makes you ask…?” Nolan was still watching you leave; “…You ever thought about marrying her?” Danny almost laughed “Woah…Woah… Hang on… Where did that come from!?” Nolan shrugged, “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to think about when planning a future?” “…People don’t always get married… Anyway, she doesn’t want to be a Rayburn, c’mon…” Nolan wasn’t sure if he was meant to take offense to that or not, considering he was one. “…So that’s a no?” “That’s not what I said.” “So it’s a yes?” “I’ve… not really…” He’d certainly joked about not getting down on one knee on multiple occasions. That was more because of the length of time you’d been together. Although he knew it was also true people had popped the question after mere weeks. Danny also wasn’t sure he was the getting married type. He thought he’d much rather have a life partner than be able to screw up something by putting a ring on her finger… He also wasn’t exactly sure how his grown up son would take him marrying a woman barely 10 or so years older than him. But if Nolan was the one bringing it up? “…Is that what you want?” “HUH!?” Nolan looked a little taken aback, leaning away from Danny for a moment. “Do you want me to marry her?” Nolan blinked, slowly but more than once “…I…” he chose his words carefully “…Want you to do it if you want to do it.” “Now that IS a yes.” “N-No…!” Nolan put his hands up “I, just think she’s good for you. It just… Made sense to me that marriage would be a natural progression.” Then he added “Eventually.” “Eh, I don’t think marriage was ever my natural progression…” “So you won’t marry her?” “I haven’t even discussed it with her yet… It’s a huge commitment. That she has to make to me, Nolan. It’s two sided.” “I think she’d marry you.” Nolan leant on his hand “…In fact I’m certain of it.” Danny wasn’t about to let him get ahead of himself; “Well. She’s a little younger than me and… It’ll have to be a discussion.” “Yeah Dad… I’m just saying. I don’t think that matters.” Danny gave a knowing smile; “so you do think I should marry her.” “Yeah.” Nolan laughed “Eventually you should. But you gotta get yourself a decent three-month salary to get a ring first, old man!” He grinned as Danny reached across the bar to punch the top of his arm; “I’ll give you old man!” Danny was certain you would say yes to anything… Was pretty sure your parents might give their blessing… If Nolan’s feelings were positive… But Danny didn’t want to rush this. And he didn’t want to rush you. Still. It was a great thing to keep in the back of his mind. One day, when he was ready – and one day he knew he WOULD be ready. He’d get down on one knee and he’d pour his heart out and hopefully it would be to you… and hopefully you would say yes.

The thing was, even now, with a smile on his face… Danny knew exactly where he would do it.

*** Present Day, Viva Caputa, 7am It was pretty early morning. But neither you nor Devan (or maybe you because of Devan) could sleep. So, as usual, to be as close as possible to the man you loved you were now sitting in Viva Caputa. Project planning. Danny never seemed satisfied with his own restaurant, and you’d seen him drawing up plans and writing things down. Even when they refit the restaurant, he would stand looking at it arms folded and saying “Eh. It could still use some work.” So you’d sifted through his apartment and come across a second set of plans - all Danny’s own work, rather than the contractor who could so helpfully give you all their work on that very refit. It was something in the works. Not for now, but you still enjoyed thinking about it. Devan was content to sit on the counter next to you in his carrycot as long as you paid attention. Time ticked on, and you realized it was close to arrival and opening time. You were the only one currently here, which was fine. You were lost too deep in your work as it was. But suddenly the phone rang. You looked up, and thought about getting up but hesitated. You didn’t need to get it. It was early enough for the caller to know you weren’t open, and if it was important the answer machine would pick it up anyway. You returned to your work as it rang off. But then dropped your pen and couldn’t turn towards the phone quick enough. Devan turned too, towards a voice he would never know, but recognized right away.

“Hey! You’ve reached Viva Caputa! I’m sorry that none of us can take your call at the moment, we’re probably a little tied up. If it’s for reservations leave your name and booking details. We’ll call ya back to confirm. If you’re an employee, call me!” The message cut and then the machine beeped... there was static, as whoever had called struggled to respond. “...Holy shit...” You almost laughed at how quiet Jason’s voice was “Danny is still the voicemail...!” You leant on your hand for a minute, overcome with a sense of joy at something you’d never realized. It was settled though, that was one thing that was never changing. *** Downtown Miami, Thursday PM Javier arrived about 5 minutes late looking bashful. You didn’t really care, today you’d been around town checking in on a couple of clients and working on some ad hoc projects for your dad. You knew when you weren’t at the restaurant Javier and Jason took the responsibility to manage it between themselves. They had work of their own so it wouldn’t surprise you if he got dragged into something late. You wanted to discuss schedules, these days neither man really had ‘shifts’ unless they asked you, you might be managing the restaurant, but what you really wanted was to give Javi more responsibility. Today you’d be discussing with him hiring potential employees; at this point, with Jason running the kitchen, Javier was your second in command. His lateness didn’t bother you, but it certainly bothered him.

“I’m so sorry-!” You shook your head, “Busy is good. You know...” “Yeah. But still, meeting you for lunch is important.” He grinned and turned his attention immediately to Devan “But-! More importantly—!! How is my boy!!?” Javier’s fuss just made Devan giggle in delight and reach out to grab Javi’s hands; “Yes! It’s okay! One of your daddies is here!” “God forbid YOU ever have kids.” “Aw, come on! We’d do good, you and I! I mean look at our son now!!” His eyes flicked back to Devan “Javi. Can you say Javi?!” You couldn’t help laughing as you leant on your hand “You’ll be lucky!” “What’s it gonna be then... mommy?” “If my parents have anything to say about it it’ll be Spanish. Rightly so. If I have my way it’ll be Danny.” Javier turned to you, suddenly solemn; “How much are you gonna tell him?” “All of it,” and you were serious “every minutia of detail I can remember or people have told me... He deserves to know, I’m not keeping it from him.” “But he died-” I know how he died...” you took a deep breath, it was still difficult. And you would certainly never say it was getting easier. It was just different to talk about now “... But if I lie, the truth will come out eventually....” you took Devan’s hand in yours making him turned back to you. With that smile and those eyes. “Then who does that make me...” Javi sat down his expression indicating how correct he thought you were, and picked up a menu. But he was more intent on studying your face with a smile “Are they Danny’s shades?” You cracked a grin “Rayburn Raybans..! They sure are!” “They look good on you...” You couldn’t help but smirk “I look good in a lot of his clothes...” Javi scoffed folding his arms and leaning back; “Yeah okay. Don’t rub in all the great sex you had with Danny Rayburn, which meant you got to wear his shirts, and probably still do because you have a fair few of them.” “Great sex, huh?” You tried unsuccessfully to keep a straight face “You made a baby. I’d say that was pretty great.” “Actually, the sex was god awful so I had to get pregnant to save me for 9 months!” Javier laughed hard at the sarcastic look on your face as you leant on your hand; “Oh god yeah... with the way he used to talk about it I’m sure it was just the worst..!” *** Date & Time Unknown… The breeze was gentle as you walked across the sand. It caught your long white dress, the many layers pulled into a dance of their own by the wind. He was waiting for you, like he always was, down by the water. He seemed to be the only thing the draft didn't stir. His dark button up shirt fitted to him, but open (when wouldn't it be?) over his grey vest top. The breeze was playful through your hair; and yet still, as if he was a photograph, he was motionless. He didn't belong here... Not that you had ever really thought he did. The sand was hot but it didn't burn you as you moved across it barefoot, your back to Rayburn house. For some reason, for the first time, you felt like it wasn't casting a dark shadow over him. Figuratively or not... True, this man had never sunk down onto one knee, he'd never offered you a perfect diamond in a black velvet box, but you were intent on doing this anyway. By the time you reached him the waves were lapping at his feet. He was staring out over the clear blue water - seeing nothing... seeing EVERYTHING - he was always so in his head... You would never be able to fathom him, never truly. You'd made your peace with that. It took him a few minutes to acknowledge that you were there, almost like everything was moving in slow motion... He turned his back to the sea and laid his crystal blue eyes on you with a smile. Whatever he said was lost in what you wanted him to say. He extended his hand to you and you took it. You had ached for this physical contact for too many months. It was almost ecstasy to have him touch you now. He pulled you back as he walked into the sea, his steps were careful, and his eyes never left yours; of course he wouldn't look at the house. It made sense to end one chapter and begin another right here. But it never made sense to you why it was the setting. He took your other hand as soon as he could reach for it. The sea was cool; but welcoming, and by the time he was done moving you through it, the water came to your waist. You could taste the salt, and yet the wind still didn't move him. You could feel the warmth of his skin and how strong he was by how he held you; you could hear his laugh, clear and bright and infectious enough for you to do the same... The way the smile on his face extended to his eyes at what you were about to do. He was about to really make you his... Everything was quiet; there was no one else. Islamorada was, and would remain, deserted. The sunshine warming your shoulders, your back, turning your hair and eyes a shade lighter and making the dazzling blue of his own even more breathtaking. He gathered your hands to his chest; and you could feel his heartbeat. Even now he was your safe place. Everything you could ever hope to have. The only thing you'd ever need. You moved as close as your dared; aware of every motion of his body, that you made... that the waves made. HYPER aware of every point of contact between the two of you. The lighter layers of fabric of your white dress had spread themselves across the top of the water; it was perfect and beautiful. Everything you could ever have asked for. You continued to stare at each other. Close enough to kiss; playful enough to deny each other that. He studied you like he always did... Like he was memorising every little detail before you disappeared into thin air... You could feel his breath on your skin; you moved your hands; keeping one entwined with his, your other ran to his shoulders, because you had to have him in your arms. You had to have him back where he belonged. He'd been away for far too long. Why wasn't this happening in Miami? Should you have been surrounded by your friends? As long as he was here, did you even care!? Mercifully he closed the gap; but you didn't dare close your eyes. He squeezed your hand tighter and pulled your waist into his through the water. You needed to breathe but you didn't want to waste this... You let his hand go to link your arms behind him, and he pulled you so close you could feel everything. Your skin burned like fire at every point of contact and you were happy to drown in that flame. You realised you wouldn't get a ring. No gold band to show off. No band at all, but you didn't need it. You would still take his name. You would take everything about him. You always had. That's what love was. By the time he was ready to let your lips go, the ocean was chest high. He laughed again; and shook his head like he couldn't fathom you. As if that was true; he had you figured from night one and you knew it. Your relationship was entirely his orchestration and you realised you would never be able to thank him enough for insisting you called his number. Or thank yourself for having the courage to break your one golden rule. His smile was of pure adoration. Like there was nothing else in his life - and you knew you were looking at him in exactly the same way even though it was a lie for both of you. You took a breath; looking at him looking at you like this you had to say something. Something that before now you had never said. "Daniel Rayburn. You are the love of my life... And I hope to God you never EVER forget that..." His eyes left yours shyly and you felt his heart jump before he found you again. His smile was confident this time. The breeze stirred into life once more... And your mind STILL wouldn't make him real. *** Devan gripped your white dress a little tighter, making you look from the clear gently swirling water of the pier on Miami’s marina .... You held him a little closer to you, running a hand through his dark hair. You figured you'd never quite be done with the Keys. How it appeared to you in dreams now… How even now it wouldn’t leave you alone. How Danny wouldn’t either; but you hardly cared about that. You nuzzled his face gently, voice calm and gentle. The breeze was welcome in the summer heat, and you were sure that you and your son should retreat to shade in the next few minutes for your own good. Still. You wanted to see this view; you wanted him to see this view one more time. But; something about it was different this time. Like the breeze was holding you... And for that moment Danny was real, and you could feel him. Like he was closer to you than he ever had been in life. You shaded your eyes and looked to the sky. Clear blue, hardly a cloud in sight. The sun was brilliant, but the light was somehow soft - not nearly as harsh as you had remembered it... "Danny..." You whispered it... realizing before you close stop it, the single tear sliding down your left cheek... But you weren’t sad, you were smiling. Devan recognized the name of his late father, whether he realized it or not - and he looked to you with those same gorgeous, haunting blue eyes. You repeated the same sentence, adamant that this time, somehow, and somewhere he could hear it. "... Never, ever forget that..."

***

Viva Caputa, Saturday Evening “This restaurant has been shut more often than it’s been open since reopening!!” Jason joked as he finally sat down. “Excuse me! I think you’ll find the party to open, and tonight, are the only two nights! We’ve been open months!!” “Do you realise how scary that is though?!” He placed his hand on yours “I get scared every time I see Devan. That boy is growin’...” “I know...” “That’s how I’m measuring this restaurant’s opening time.” He nodded “That little man.” Javier leant forward from his seat further down the table; “Isn’t it more shocking to you we’ve survived with Y/N as a manager?!?” His grin was goading, you folded your arms with a shake of your head but chose to stay patient with him. “Oh? Uh huh?” You argued with these two in the same way you’d seen Danny do it. The playful kitchen banter you loved so much before was now yours to control. And you mimicked Danny and his sayings as often as possible. They loved it secretly. But often Jason would groan “Ugh! She’s won this with another Danny phrase” “Hello. Danny Rayburn. Didn’t realise you were still in charge.” You were grateful for that. For every time Jason would scowl at his own work and mimic Danny down to his voice “No! Jason! It’s not chemistry!!!” And how you and Javi would then yell “It’s about feel!!!” The first time the three of you hadn’t expected it, and had the whole restaurant giving you funny looks as the dead five-second silence turned into laughing so hard you all cried. Maybe there was sadness mixed in with those tears then, but no more. “Yeah. I’m surprised you’ve not killed us!” You leant back in your chair “Javi, there’s still time. Besides, where the hell would I be without you two?!” “Take it Javi. She’s got a damn good point!” That had the whole table laughing again. Tonight you’d shut the restaurant because it was the first time all of you had been able to get together since you opened. Everything was always busy for you now as it was. But for your family too. And your friends. So, you could be no more thankful to have them all around the table. This was for Danny. You didn’t say it but everyone knew.

Everyone started to peel off the later that it got; Devan was fast asleep by the time you handed him to your mom “I won’t be too long mama...” “Nonsense. Stay. They are your friends... we’ll be fine until you get home.” You gave a nod and embraced her and your father “I love you guys so much... Thank you. For always being there no matter what. And for Danny.” “What about him? You already know how much he meant to us.”“I know. But I don’t think I say it enough... You could have disapproved. Told me to not see him again. Done anything but welcome him into your lives like he was always there...” “Darling. Even if you’d have listened. Even if we had disapproved...” She said it with conviction (as if anyone could ever disapprove of Danny) “... You can’t break up chemistry like that. You’ll never be able to break up chemistry like that... look what it has blessed you with...” she indicated to Devan as your dad embraced you again; “Estrellita. Our one wish is that you’d have met him sooner. If you’d have got onto the professional scene... you would have surpassed us.” You laughed and pushed his arm gently “Is it ironic that I could technically have met him 12 years earlier!? I blame you guys for not dragging me to the Keys!” He had to laugh “You would.” then he kissed your forehead, “We will see you later. Please... whenever you are ready. Do not waste your friends... you never wasted him...” “I tried my best...” You turned to kiss your mom goodbye and then Devan. “Mi Angelito...” He grasped for your fingertips lost in dreams, you giggled and took a step back “When that boy is grown up and looks like Danny I just don’t know what I’m gonna do!” “Protect him from all the ladies? He will be a heartbreaker, if that’s the case.” Your dad winked making you laugh “Oh yeah. He’s a pretty good combination of genes... Danny Rayburn with a Latino flair? Lord have mercy on those girls.” * Jason and Javi left together as usual, making you look between them with a teasing smirk; “If you weren’t married, I’d swear you two had a thing!” “Shush! Y/N! Not with my wife around!” “Oh my god-! Jason! Did you TELL her!!!!???” Javier looked about as shocked as you’d ever seen him and let out a lament “What am I gonna do now-!? It’ll be talk of the town!!!” You looked to Jason who was shaking his head “He would be such a brat, Y/N, I just couldn’t.” “Oi! Take that back!” “Make me!” “Was that a threat or a come on?!” “Oh my god-!” You held your hands up “forget I said anything. Goodbye! I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Bright and early obviously. Slave driver.” “She’s like Danny though, ain’t she? Doesn’t actually need to BE here on shift.” Jason leant in to kiss your cheek “Get your beauty sleep! I’m sure Danny never let you have any...” he raised his eyebrows with a cheeky wink “Haha.” You hugged him “Not too early Jase. You two of anyone deserve a rest.” “Yeah, yeah, you mean that about as much as he did...!” Javi threw his hand in the general direction of the picture on the wall, but embraced you with a kiss “Drink one for us, one for our son, and one for Danny okay?” “Okay... I will.” You had no intention on drinking that much. But you’d appease him none the less “Oh. Whilst you’re at it. Make it tequila shots.” “Jason get out of here whilst I still love you!!” * Nolan was the very last to leave, and Amanda and Evie had left you alone to quietly talk to him whilst they when around picking alcohol for the three of you to have drinks. But eventually he checked his watch with a sigh; “I guess I better head home. Call it a night!” “Home?” You raised an eyebrow with a smile “Yeah, okay maybe if it’s yours it’s more home than mine...” “I didn’t say that...!! I didn’t mean—!” He sighed and covered his face, “—of course your place is home... but... This is dads...” “Nolan! Sweetheart!” You were laughing “It’s okay...” He slid off the bar stool and you accompanied him, although he walked slow, he didn’t really want to leave - but he probably had a point. A lot of them would be back here early tomorrow for work; and that was probably Nolan included. Jason loves teaching Danny’s son, you thought that was because it made him feel closer to Danny, made both of them feel closer to Danny, but Jason could only do it when it was quiet. Which meant early starts. But Nolan had consistently risen to the occasion.

He stopped at the door; “I’ll see you tomorrow!” “Sure thing! I’ve got some work in the morning but... I’ll be in for evening rush. Don’t you worry.” “Can I come stay... this weekend?” You tilted your head, with a small smile “Baby, you don’t need permission to come and stay. It’s your place too. You know, just drive over when you want.” but you nodded, “Of course you can, please do.” “Okay...” he grinned “You know it’s just so I get to hang with my brother, right?” You laughed “Oh my god, you are gonna be so much trouble when he grows up.” “Me or him?!” “Both of you...!” You reached up, and tidied his dark hair, placing your hand on his cheek for a minute; “Nolan... He was so proud of you. I know he was ‘Danny’ about it and didn’t really ever say it, but, he was. And I know he is...” You had to bite your lip for a second or you were going to cry, you gave your head a shake and then all at once enveloped Nolan in a hug “…I’m proud of you, too… You’ve grown up so much! I’m just… so proud of the man you’re becoming!” He wound his arms around you too “…I know…” his voice was quiet “You’re a great mom, Mom.” You froze and pulled back slightly. That was surely accidental. But his face was serious. Nolan gave a smile to your quizzical look; how you looked like you wanted to believe he meant it, whilst at the same time preparing for him to take it back. “You don’t have to say anything… I’ve wanted to call you that for a long time…” You just shook your head again and took his hands in yours, there wasn’t necessarily anything for you to say. And he knew you had so much you wanted to say. So you just smiled; “You’re a good son Nolan. And a great big brother.” That just made him laugh, “I mean… I can only try, right?” He opened the door and you followed him outside, to make sure he drove off safely “Text me when you get home, okay?” You always asked, but now you felt like you had to rise to your new status. “Mmm hmm!” He gave a smile, and embraced you one last time before walking to his car. Nolan stopped, and then turned, waving he called back with a grin; “Love you mom!” And you laughed; “I love you too!” *** Eventually it was just you Amanda and Evie left. Sitting at table 14. And when Amanda realised she took a deep breath out “My god. Can you believe this? We were RIGHT here when it all started.” Evie put her hands to her head like she was having some kind of existential crisis “How is that so long ago? But why has it also FLOWN?!” She turned to you “If there is one thing I will never forget, it’s the way he looked at you. I’m not going to say it was like you were the only thing he ever wanted. But in hindsight...” You could feel the heat in your cheeks but at least knew you could blame the alcohol; “Yeah and I told you I was done with Danny Rayburn.” “For like what; an hour?!” Amanda smirked “Two. Give me some credit here!” You winked “Also. If we’re getting technical. Neither of you were there when it started the night before. but I’m sure you wish you were.” “A foursome??!” Evie raised an eyebrow “With you girls? I dunno. Sign me up!” “Invite Javi.” Your eyes flicked between them and Amanda went pink; “Do you still have a thing for him?!” “Baby, it didn’t work.” “Make it work.” She leant on her hand and smiled at you “There is one fairytale here. And it’s your story, Y/N. All yours.” You knew she was asking you to forget the end with her statement. Which was asking a lot. But she didn’t say it because of how it ended. You knew that, and you smiled. Leaning your head on your hand – you didn’t need to thank her for saying something like that, she knew you’d be thankful. And maybe, it wasn’t all over… You and Danny had something special; you had this, your baby and Nolan… And his friends. No, it wasn’t over. It would never be truly over… “Another drink?!” “Oh.” You put your finished glass down as you spotted the time on the clock; “Naw, girls! We should get to leaving, I have a little boy to return to!” Even though your parents had said take your time, you didn’t want to misuse their charity. Evie huffed; “Okay. Fine! But, party back to your place! We’ll get the cab there!” You rolled your eyes “Fiiiine… But do not wake Devan up or so help me God.” They asked if you wanted help clearing the glasses away but you waved that suggestion away, you wanted some quiet time. A little time alone… In this place of all of them. Your friends understood that even if you didn’t say it; and both hugged you – although you’d all be getting the same cab. They headed outside after you’d told them to go call one. You’d have time before it arrived… You stacked the glasses by the washer; first thing tomorrow you’d get that squared away. You checked the kitchen with a smile and flicked the lights off. Your checks were exactly the same as Danny’s… back to front – every table, so it looked perfect… turning down lights as you went. Until you got to the bar… You paused and your eyes flicked to the picture of him on the wall. You didn’t realise how much you were smiling until your cheeks hurt. You leant over, grabbing a glass and the bottle of whisky you had yet to put away you poured yourself one and took a deep breath. Something hit you, and you had to answer it… You made your way slowly to the picture, still with that same smile. Your heart was going quick; like you were that girl sitting at table 14 again as he leant over you and told you to call him. Like you were the woman on the dance floor reacting to the way he held you like no other man ever had. Like the first time he kissed you. The first time he told you he loved you. The first time you really got to make love to him… Those gorgeous blue eyes were holding yours just the same as his used to; picture or not. And that smile on his face that you loved so much. Danny would always be beautiful. His soul would always be beautiful. He’d given you everything; you only hoped that you’d managed to give him just as much back… He deserved that more than anything… You tipped the glass to the picture; “Danny… This is all for you. And I hope you’re proud of me baby. Because I’m so proud of you. And I’ll wait patiently to see you again, because I’m gonna be here for our kids growing up. But… still I can’t wait. I can’t WAIT to be in your arms once more. Because I love you. Danny. And I’ll never stop loving you. Thank YOU. For loving ME.” ---

Thank you for being a part of this 💙💜 If you’ve made it to here, and you’ve invested yourself in all 10 Parts - congratulations you’ve read 87,276+ words. Because I know sometimes I added words after I put in the word count

@3134045126 @happyskywhale @waytoplantann @krnncsbtch - Thank you my darlings for sticking with me to the end! I’m so greatful! 💙💜 And, as I like to end with GIFs... Please accept some of my favourite Danny’s... ❤

#Danny Rayburn #Danny Rayburn x Reader #Ben Mendelsohn #Bloodline #Finale #Sway #Linzi Writes #I just... I have nothing to say #it's over and here we are...#And I cried about 5 times writing and editing this #and I'm still crying #and holy sh*t did that Chris Young song come out of nowhere #B U T Girl is like the perfect song for our Reader #So sorry Chris - you're a graphic instead!#55!!#Liliana #14530 at full count

26 notes · View notes

hysterialevi · 6 years ago

Text

When the Devil Cries pt. 24

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

Author’s note: Sorry this chapter was a little later than usual. Like I said before, I haven’t been feeling that well this past week. Mainly just headaches and mental health, but I hope you guys enjoy this part nonetheless. Thank you for being patient :)

(Warning: this chapter is slightly nsfw!)

From Arthur’s POV

THE NEXT DAY

SAINT DENIS

Ridin’ through the city’s crowded streets, Eddie and I trotted our way to the tailor’s shop -- the location where Trelawny said he’d meet us -- and strolled past a bunch of lawmen, beggars, merchants, and even the same lady who was advocating for women’s right to vote all those months ago. It didn’t look like Saint Denis had changed that much, and most of the people appeared to be the same...but it was certainly still a foreign sight for me and Eddie.

I mean, if I was bein’ honest, I never thought we’d come back here. Not after the way we hit the goddamned national bank, and blew up one of the bridges leadin’ into the city. In my eyes, Saint Denis was supposed to be off-limits, considering how many people was after our gang, but clearly, Dutch didn’t agree.

All he seemed to care about recently was the money, risks be damned. We had already lost Hosea to Atticus and his army of crazies, and now, we was riskin’ even more of our necks for some high-stakes Poker game on a goddamned boat.

Had we learned nothing from that disaster in Blackwater? Had Dutch suddenly forgotten what happened back there? The last time we tried to rob a boat, our entire gang nearly got wiped out. Only difference was back then, all we had to worry about was the Pinkertons. Now though, we also had a rival gang threatening to destroy us, and even fewer men to fight them back.

We was in the middle of a storm. If we wanted to survive, we’d have to leave this place as soon as possible. We had far too much to lose, and even less to gain. S’far as I was concerned, the money on this boat weren’t worth the risk. ...But what could I do?

Tearin’ me away from my thoughts, Eddie suddenly grabbed my attention when he said something to me, his gaze stuck on a very familiar building that we were riding by. It had colorful posters plastered all over its walls, vibrant spherical lights decorating the roof, music dancin’ through its doors, and a decent-sized crowd of people gathering at its entrance. It was the Râleur Theatre.

We both stopped for a moment, sayin’ a quick hello to an old friend.

“...The Râleur,” Eddie murmured to himself in a nostalgic tone, clearly feelin’ a bit homesick upon seeing it. “I never expected to see it again.”

I moved my horse next to his, takin’ in the view of the theater as hundreds of memories began to flood my mind.

“Me neither,” I admitted, thinking back to the day I first met Eddie. “I imagine you must miss it a whole lot. And the folks that work there.”

The boy nodded. “Oh, you’ve no idea. Though, it’s strange to say that, considering how it used to be such a nerve-wracking experience for me. I was always afraid that I’d mess up a song, or hit a wrong note, or disappoint the audience with something I composed...but I never realized how lucky I was to have those fears until now. And how lucky I am to have new ones.”

I rested my arms on the horn of my saddle, tiltin’ my head at Eddie.

“You think you’re lucky?”

He shrugged. “There’ve been multiple occasions where I could’ve died, Arthur. Where we both could’ve died. But against all odds, we’re still here. We’re still going. I’d say that’s pretty lucky.”

A soft smile spread across my face. “I s’pose you’re right.”

Eddie shifted to a more anxious tone. “Though...I can’t deny I’m a bit worried about Dutch’s plans recently. Shouldn’t we be packing up camp? Why are we still in Shady Belle? I thought we were moving the gang up north.”

A defeated sigh escaped me. “That’s what I thought too, but evidently, Dutch ain’t ready to leave just yet. Wants to grab one more score before we get moving.”

That didn’t appear to calm the pianist down at all. “We need to get out of here, Arthur. I know we’re low on money, but Atticus is dangerously close to killing us all. And I don’t want anyone else to end up like Hosea. Especially not you.”

I gave him a sincere look. “I hear you, Eddie, and truth be told, most o’ the gang feels the same way. But like I said, so long as Dutch has his mind set on robbin’ this boat, I don’t see us leaving anytime sooner than expected. We’ll just have to survive.”

Eddie let the subject go for now. “I understand. I just hope we can make it out of this. We’ve had enough close calls as is.” The boy lightly snapped his reins and pushed his horse into a casual trot, continuin’ our trip.

“Anyways,” he said, “I’ve held us up for long enough. We should go and see, erm-- what did you say his name was again?”

“Trelawny.” I answered.

“Trelawny...” Eddie repeated to himself, “he’s part of Dutch’s gang?”

I chuckled at that. “Well, that depends on who you ask. He’s not really part of the gang like we are, but...I guess...he ain’t exactly against it neither. Sometimes, Trelawny’ll stay with us for a while, hang around camp...but then suddenly, he’ll disappear for months on end. And just when we start thinkin’ about cutting him loose, the bastard shows up again with a tip valuable enough to earn us hundreds of dollars. Kinda like now.”

“And you think we can trust this tip?” He asked.

“Trelawny’s always come through before,” I replied. “We’ve got no reason not to trust him.”

Eddie seemed content with that. “That works for me. I just want to get this robbery over with and bring the gang someplace safe. I feel like I’m constantly checking over my shoulder to make sure Atticus or Rodrick isn’t there.”

I laughed, tryin’ to ease his worries a little. “You’re assumin’ I’d let them get that close.”

The boy smirked in response, adjusting his hat. “After everything that’s happened, I’m sure you wouldn’t. ...And neither would I.”

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE TAILOR

Strollin’ towards the opulent shop, Eddie and I hitched our horses before approaching the front doors, attemptin’ to look as casual as possible in order to avoid grabbing anyone’s attention. The people of Saint Denis were already on high alert ever since the bank robbery, and with the amount of lawmen patrolling this city, the last thing I wanted was for anyone to recognize us. We’d have to keep a low profile.

Stepping up to the tailor’s, the two of us came to a halt once we noticed an elegant man leaning against one of its corners, his face hidden behind a newspaper. There wasn’t anyone else accompanying him, and judgin’ by the not-so-subtle top hat peeking above the paper’s edge, I had a good guess as to who it was.

I double-checked our surroundings to make sure there wasn’t any unwanted ears listenin’ in and walked towards the man, quietly calling out to him.

“Trelawny.” I whispered, causing him to instantly lower the newspaper.

He gave me a delighted smile and folded the article, doin’ his best to pretend that there weren’t anything suspicious going on.

“Arthur!” Trelawny said happily. “My, my...hasn’t it been quite some time. It’s good to see you, dear boy.”

“And you, Josiah.”

The magician flicked his gaze over to Eddie. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Eddie Ryan,” I introduced, gesturing towards him. “He’s a new member of the gang. Joined not too long ago. Eddie, this is Josiah.”

The pianist reached a hand out, but I could tell he was still a bit skeptical about this new face.

“Good to meet you.” Eddie greeted. A radiant smile beamed on Trelawny’s face.

“Ah, a fellow Englishman. Don’t see too many of those around here, nor in the gang. I can see Dutch is...broadening his horizons.”

I scoffed. “Well, he’s tryin’ to, at least. But Dutch ain’t going nowhere until the gang gets some more money. And he tells me you might have a tip for our next score.”

Josiah nodded. “Yes, indeed...”

I quirked a brow, noticin’ his doubtful tone. “You don’t sound too sure.”

The magician’s expression drooped with uncertainty, and he lowered his voice so that it was just above a whisper.

“...I won’t lie to you, Arthur. This robbery is going to be tricky to pull off. Mainly because guests are not permitted to have weapons on this riverboat. Now, of course, we could disguise some of you gentlemen as security guards so you wouldn’t be entirely defenseless. But as far as having a weapon on your person...I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

I shrugged in a puzzled manner. “How the hell are we supposed rob the money without weapons?”

Trelawny held up a finger. “Discretion, dear boy. You are going to participate in the Poker game and win. Now, don’t worry -- you’ll have, err...‘assistance’ to ensure your victory.”

I got straight to the point. “You want me to cheat.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it quite as bluntly as that, but yes! You’re going to cheat. Though, I would still make sure that whoever is going to play the games actually looks affluent. That way, your ‘luck’ doesn’t seem too suspicious to the other players.”

An idea popped up in my mind.

“Eddie,” I suggested, “why don’t you play?”

The boy appeared surprised at the thought. “Me?”

“Yeah. You got some skill in Poker, and besides, outta all the people in the gang, you look the most civilized among us. No one would suspect you to be a crook. You don’t have to do it, o’ course. I’m just saying.”

He went along with the plan. “No, I’m up for it, but who’s going to be giving me the ‘assistance?”

“How about Herr Strauss?” Josiah recommended. “I know these sort of things are usually right up his alley. Or perhaps even Hosea. That man is a conman at heart. This would be perfect for him.”

I froze with realization, suddenly rememberin’ that Trelawny hadn’t heard about his death. To me, it felt like it had been ages since Hosea died, but the reality was...it had only been a few days. All this mayhem, all this death...it barely spanned across an entire week. We were given almost no time to mourn Hosea after he was killed, let alone write a letter to Trelawny about it. I supposed it only made sense he didn’t know yet. I was just surprised Dutch hadn’t told him.

Letting out a morose sigh, I tried to think of the quickest and least painful way to break the news to him, causing Josiah to pause in confusion once he noticed my sudden change in mood.

Eddie and I exchanged looks, the both of us unsure of how to get it out in the open.

“Trelawny,” I murmured, “...Hosea’s dead.”

The magician blinked out of shock, his usual facade of charm and charisma breaking for just a moment upon hearin’ the horrible news.

“...D-Dead?” He repeated. “What on earth happened?”

I mindlessly brought my eyes to the ground, not exactly eager to discuss the topic.

“Trouble with a rival gang,” I hurriedly explained. “Hosea was killed in an ambush.”

Trelawny’s face sank with a gentle frown.

“Well...I’m terribly sorry to hear that, Arthur. Mister Matthews was always one of the good ones. Sometimes, he was even the best. It’s a shame he’s gone.”

I agreed with a simple nod. “Sure is.”

Clearin’ my throat, I attempted to regain composure and changed the subject, hastily getting back to business. “...Anyway, ah...what else can you tell us about this riverboat party? When is it? What can we expect?”

Josiah retrieved the newspaper he was reading earlier and handed it to me, pointing to a certain article.

“About the same as you’d expect from any high-society gala. There’ll be crowds of rich folk who couldn’t be more pleased with themselves, a bar, musicians, safes full of money and jewelry, the Poker tables of course...and lots of security. As for when it’s taking place, I believe the party is being held in four days from now. It’s not an abundant amount of time to plan, but it should give you boys long enough to think of something. Which brings me to the building behind us.”

I glanced up from the paper and brought my gaze to the tailor’s shop, givin’ Trelawny a curious look.

“You tellin’ me we met at the tailor’s for a reason?”

The magician laughed. “Well, I didn’t bring you here to admire the dresses, dear boy! No...we need to get you a suit, and perhaps a shave as well. After all, if you want to blend in with the fine folk on the riverboat, you’re going to have to look the part. And -- I mean no offense to your current attire -- but nobody is going to believe you’re filthy rich when you’re just filthy.”

I heavily sighed in annoyance, shovin’ the newspaper into my satchel as my expression flattened with irritation.

“...Fine. Before we go in, though,” I turned to Eddie and placed a few dollars in his hand, givin’ him a different task as I pointed in the opposite direction. “Eddie, why don’t you go and rent us a room at the Bastille? Ain’t no point in goin’ back to camp this early. Besides, maybe you can get yourself some real food there.”

The pianist stared downwards at his palm. “You sure?”

“Yes,” I answered firmly. “Besides, I’d rather you not be present when I’m tryin’ on skin-tight suits. You’ve seen enough horrors lately.”

Eddie chuckled at that and took the money, steadily walkin’ back to Bullet who was now getting a bit restless at the hitching post.

“If you insist,” he complied with a giggle. “Alright then, I’ll meet you at the saloon. Good luck, gentlemen.”

Trelawny waved him goodbye. “And good luck to you, young man.” Josiah turned back to me, gesturing inside the tailor’s with a polite bow. “Well then, Arthur...shall we?”

I walked ahead of him, lettin’ myself into the shop while Eddie mounted up.

“Sure.”

THAT EVENING

THE BASTILLE

Leavin’ my horse next to Eddie’s, I hopped off the animal and pushed my way through the swinging doors, allowing myself into the saloon as everyone inside instantly jolted their heads towards me, wonderin’ what the hell this cowboy was doing back in Saint Denis.

I mean, I doubted anyone here really remembered me -- apart from the bartender who was wavin’ me over like an old friend -- but I imagined it was also hard to forget someone of my “background” hanging around this lavish establishment. After all, the last time I was here, it was to gather information on that godforsaken gala where Eddie and I nearly got shot. There weren’t no honest people in this saloon, and unlike the rest of the patrons relaxin’ in this here bar, I certainly wasn’t being subtle about it in the slightest.

I just hoped the boy and I would be able to get at least one moment of peace today. Things had been so chaotic back at camp recently, part of me couldn’t deny that I only agreed to be Dutch’s errand boy so I could get away from all that. It was selfish, yeah...but I just needed a goddamned break. And so did Eddie.

Sauntering over to the bar while the other customers went back to their business, I simply slid a coin onto the counter and leaned against its surface, causin’ the bartender’s eyes to pop open in shock once he recognized my sour face.

“Well, well...look who it is!” He greeted, taking the coin into his palm. “Long time, no see, mister! How ya been?”

I chuckled in a friendly tone. “It has been a long time, ain’t it? I’m doin’ well, I suppose. Y’know, considering the circumstances.”

He nodded in understanding, giving me a beer. “Mm-hmm, things is gettin’ rough out there, for sure. I’m just glad to see you alright.” The bartender’s expression lit up with remembrance. “Hey, your friend was down here not too long ago. Mister Ryan. I gotta say: as surprised as I am to see you, I was even more surprised to see him. I thought he was dead!”

I took a sip. “Dead?”

“Well, he just sorta disappeared after that horrific firefight at Miss Powell’s place. And there’s also the fact that the folks at the Râleur miss him a whole bunch. So, I just kinda assumed, y’know?”

I stared down the mouth of the bottle, mindlessly thinkin’ back to all the shit Eddie and I had been through these past months.

“Yeah...” I said, “things’ve gotten crazy for us lately. Eddie, especially. I’ve just been...helpin’ him along, I guess.”

The bartender wiped a rag along the counter, cleanin’ it as he spoke. “Well, that’s certainly nice of you, mister. Obviously, I dunno Mister Ryan as well as you do, but based on what I’ve seen and heard of him, he seems like a good man. One of the few left in this city.”

I brought the bottle to my lips, downing another sip. “One o’ the few left in the world.”

He smiled at that. “Indeed.”

Halting his movements, the bartender paused for a moment and took on a more concerned tone, his chipper mood slightly dyin’ down as he glanced upstairs.

“You, ah...you make sure to keep an eye on that boy, alright? Things is already uncomfortably quiet in this saloon now that Lillian’s gone, and I’d never thought I’d say this, but...I kinda miss when she’d come here and complain to the rest of us. She was a troubled woman, for sure, but she made this place memorable in a strange way. Watchin’ another familiar face disappear might just...do me in.”

I finished my drink and placed the bottle down, gettin’ ready to go find Eddie. “Believe me, I’m doing everything I can. Speakin’ of which, you know where Mister Ryan is? He said he’d meet me here.”

The bartender gestured above us. “He rented a room here for the night. Room 201. I believe he’s in the bath right now.”

I backed away from the bar, nonchalantly beginning to head upstairs. “Thanks. I’m gonna go and wait for him.”

“You take care of each other, sir,” the man replied. “Ain’t nowhere safe out there nowadays. Sometimes, a friend is more useful than a gun.”

I agreed. “That they are.”

A WHILE LATER

ROOM 201

Shovin’ my new suit into the temporary wardrobe, I slipped off my shirt and searched for a more casual one to wear while Eddie finished up his bath, the both of us eager to sleep under an actual roof for once.

The manor back at Shady Belle did its job well enough, and I didn’t find myself wakin’ up with as nearly mosquito bites as I did back in Clemens Point, but still. It was nice not havin’ to sleep around a bunch of gators or worry about being jumped by Atticus and his group of maniacs. Instead, I could probably actually get some real sleep tonight, and eat some food before inevitably returning to camp to carry out this insane robbery.

I mean, sure, the plan sounded simple enough. We’d stuff ourselves into some disguises, pretend to be all posh and whatnot, and cheat at the Poker games while simultaneously winning hundreds of dollars. It was child’s play compared to the other robberies we’d done.

But...what if something went awry? What if someone recognized us or found out who we were? What if the law was alerted before we got the money? We’d be trapped on a boat floatin’ in the middle of goddamned nowhere, and on top of that, most of us would be unarmed. I just didn’t think it was worth risking the gang’s safety like this no matter how much cash was sitting in those people’s pockets.

There’d be plenty of time for larceny later. But we'd already pushed our luck far enough. We had to leave Shady Belle. And now.

“Oh!” Eddie’s voice suddenly exclaimed from behind me, makin’ me realize I weren’t alone no more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were here.”

Whirling around at the unexpected intrusion, I separated myself from the wardrobe and spotted a hilariously red-faced Eddie standing in the doorway as he tried to avert his eyes, clearly a bit embarrassed due to seein’ me shirtless.

“It’s alright,” I reassured with a chortle. “Come on in.”

Slowly walking into the room, the pianist shut the door behind him and awkwardly shuffled towards the bed, having a seat with his back turned to me while I continued to get dressed. I couldn’t lie -- it was amusin’ to see him in such a bashful state. Normally he was pretty well-composed, but...I guessed everyone had their weaknesses. I’d have to walk around without a shirt more often.

“...So,” Eddie said, sounding a bit more relaxed, “did you get a new suit?”

“Yep.” I answered, earnin’ an inquisitive look from him. I rolled my eyes in a playful manner. “Don’t worry...you’ll get to see it in all its glory on the riverboat. Then you can laugh and holler all you want.”

The boy chuckled. “You don’t look as bad in a suit as you think, Arthur. In fact, I’d say you look quite handsome.”

A small but surprisingly flattered smile grew on my face. “Well then, maybe there’s hope for me, after all. But what ‘bout you? Heard you got a nice bath.”

Eddie dragged a hand through his still-wet hair, tidying up the strands. “I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I actually got into the tub. I don’t know how you people do it, traveling in the wilderness for months. I’ve not even been away from civilization for that long and I’m already struggling.”

I grinned at him. “You’ll get used to it. Though, I will admit, it is nice to enjoy these luxuries every once in a while. Gives you a chance to relax.”

He nodded. “That it does.”

Sitting in silence for a few minutes after that, Eddie eventually rose to his feet and wandered next to me, his green eyes admirin’ the view outside our window as the sun began to sink under a purple sky. Despite the chaos we was dealing with right now -- what with fighting Atticus and killin’ Colm -- Eddie still appeared to be somewhat at peace, now that we were back in his hometown.

For the first time in a while...the boy actually looked happy, and the familiar spark I always saw in his expression had finally returned. It made me glad to see him smilin’ again, and part of me wished we would never have to leave this hotel room. ...But I knew better than to dream like that.

Turning to me with a loving glance, Eddie quietly cleared his throat and gazed at the floor, the red tint coming back to his face once again.

“Erm, Arthur...?” He nearly whispered.

I raised a brow at him, curious about the hesitance in his voice. “Yeah?”

The boy began fidgeting with his hands. “...This is...awkward for me to ask, but I was thinking...well, we never truly know how much time we have left with each other, do we?”

The sudden change in tone caught me off-guard and I put all my attention on Eddie, tryin’ to figure out where on earth this was coming from.

“...No,” I admitted somberly. “No, I...guess we don’t.”

The pianist grew even more red. “W-Which is why I was wondering if...perhaps, you’d like to...spend the night with me? I mean, we’re out here by ourselves, and...I-I don’t really know when we’ll get the chance again. The gang’s always moving, and--”

I cut the boy off and grabbed his hand, calmin’ him down.

“Relax, Eddie,” I comforted, chuckling softly. “I’d...I’d like that.”

He looked up at me with surprise. “You would?”

I wrapped my other arm around Eddie and brought him close. “O’ course. Like you said, we might never get another chance. We’re...always runnin’ for our lives, it feels like. Always fighting. Never at peace. Least we can do is reserve one day just for us.”

Seemingly devoid of all his previous self-doubt, the other man took what I said to heart and simply stood there for a moment before suddenly leanin’ forward and pressing his lips against mine, holding onto me as if I would vanish if he let go.

There was a certain passion behind Eddie’s actions -- one I’d never experienced from him before -- and...it made feel...alive. I mean, I wasn’t the best when it came to findin’ the right words, and truth be told: I rarely ever knew how to describe what was going through my mind...but this was different.

Most of the time, I found myself constantly feelin’ as if I was dead already. Day and night, week after week...I always felt more and more like a walking husk. Just a hollow shell about to crack at any moment and unveil the broken man hidin’ inside. There was hardly anything about me that was worth redeeming, and even with Dutch’s plans basically controlling my life, I still had no idea where this road was going.

There always seemed to be some sort of obstacle blockin’ our path, or another tragedy that would cause Dutch’s sanity to deteriorate even further, but with Eddie by my side now, somethin’ just felt like...it had changed.

Like even with the high chance that our gang would most-likely be wiped out before we could reach New York, or Tahiti, or wherever else Dutch had in his sights, that I still had something left to save. That even if everything else went to shit, I could still give Eddie the life he deserved. And God-willing, join him in it.

It was a foolish dream -- and one I doubted I’d ever actually make a reality -- but it was enough to keep me going. The idea alone of possibly makin’ it through this hell on Earth and somehow managing to survive was enough to convince me that it weren’t time to drop dead just yet. Even if it meant I’d end up havin’ to sacrifice everything I had, or abandon the only life I ever knew, I was ready to protect the one person that was keepin’ me alive.

‘Cause I knew I was also the only thing keeping him alive.

Returning Eddie’s affection, I tightened my arms around the pianist and slightly lifted him off the floor before setting him down on the bed, swiftly undoing his shirt as he sank into the mattress below.

Eddie allowed his hands to roam up my back and caressed every muscle he came across, softly pressing his fingers into my skin like a sculptor shaping his project. By now, his face was flushed pink all over again and I could almost feel the warmth radiating off him, but this time, he didn’t seem to care. Instead, the boy only appeared to be lost in bliss, and the further we let ourselves go, the more eager he became.

Yanking his shirt off, I tossed the piece of clothing to the side and exposed his bare chest...only to be met with a sight I wasn’t expecting.

Contrary to the smooth, unscathed complexion I anticipated Eddie to have, I saw a horrifying mess of fresh scars and burns crisscrossin’ each other on his torso, completely taking me by surprise as my jaw dropped in shock.

I hovered a gentle hand above the damaged flesh, unsure of how to react.

“...What...the hell happened to you?” I blurted out, examining the mostly healed wounds. “Did...did Rodrick do this to you?”

Eddie frowned out of guilt and looked away from me, evidently ashamed of the lacerations on his chest.

“...I didn’t want to alarm you,” he explained. “Reverend Swanson patched me up whilst you were still sleeping. I...I asked him not to tell you. ...I’m sorry, Arthur.”

Turnin’ away for a second, I took a deep breath and shook my head in anger, thinking about all the different ways I was gonna murder Rodrick if I ever saw him again.

“...That son-of-a-bitch...” I muttered. “I’ll kill that goddamn maniac--”

“--Arthur,” Eddie hushed, placing a soothing hand on my cheek. “It’s okay. We’ll worry about him later. We’ve got plenty of time to think about Atticus and his gang. For now, though...”

A frisky smirk grew on his lips and I suddenly felt his other hand tuggin’ at the hem of my pants, leadin’ me to let out an amused chuckle once I calmed down.

“You’re right...” I replied, “you’re right. I’m just sorry I couldn’t prevent that from happenin’ to you. I--”

Eddie put a single finger over my mouth, grinning in a fond manner.

“No, no,” he scolded playfully. “None of that. No apologies, no worrying about me, no nothing. Okay? Tomorrow, I promise I’ll let you go back to being an angry, cold-hearted brute. But tonight, you actually enjoy yourself for once, and just take a breather. Alright?”

I beamed at him and threw all my worries about Dutch or Atticus out the window, bendin’ down to place a series of kisses on Eddie’s neck as the night carried on.

A soft laugh escaped me. “As you wish.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #arthur morgan x male oc #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

7 notes · View notes