fandom is a lot more fun when your goal isn’t to be “that big, popular account” within the fandom but just to have fun and talk about what brings you comfort and happiness by the way
Honestly it's a mixed bag, but at least I'm feeling pretty good!
My doctor's appointments keep getting pushed back which is frustrating, and I also broke my phone yesterday which is awesome because I can't replace it until next weekend.
BUT, I managed to finish a fic! :')
I'm hoping I can ride this momentum and get a few more things finished soon, but even if I don't it still feels really nice to actually get something finished and posted!
Not to sound like a total boomer, but I'm about 80% sure the only reason I finished the fic today was because I was at work and didn't have access to my phone...which is frustrating, but is also worth further study.
♡ Pairing: Paddy Mayne x F!Reader
♡ Word Count: 2.2k
♡ Summary: You and Paddy had been home from the war for months, but the mental scars it had left were far from healed.
♡ Warnings: None :)
♡ A/N: Guys...I finally finished something. What's it been like, two months? I am SO sorry to anyone waiting for updates on my ongoing fics. I promise I am working on them, and hopefully I'm coming out of the funk I was in that made it nearly impossible for me to just sit down and write.
This is a companion piece to my Kindred series and is based postwar. You don't necessarily need to have read the series to read this, but it would probably be a better read if you did.
Your finger twirled itself into the spiral phone cord anxiously as Patsy Cline sang softly through the radio.
You listened to the voice on the other end of the receiver while your eyes wandered to the window.
"I don't know, Johnny—he's just been having a rough time lately. I think he'll be happy, but then again maybe it'll just make it worse, you know?" you said with a sigh. You paused as you listened to his reply, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as your eyes moved to the floor.
"I know, I know…No, you're right—He'll be happy either way. I just…I don't want to bring up anything too emotional if he's already struggling. He hasn't been talking to me about it so—"
The sound of a car pulls your attention back to the window.
"Oh, he's home," you said as you craned your neck to watch the car pull into the drive, "I'll call you later about the trip—yes, and to tell you how it goes." You smiled softly to yourself, "You gossip more than an old woman, you know that?" You laughed at his reply, watching Paddy as he made his way up to the door. "Alright, I'll talk to you soon. Bye Johnny."
You hung up the receiver and quickly hurried through the kitchen to the front door, smiling as you watched the knob turn.
The door swung open and Paddy stepped in. Your smile fell as he glanced at you before quickly turning his attention to the bags in his hands. A fresh black eye was forming above a swollen jaw and a split lip. As soon as he set his bags down you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing tightly.
"Welcome home," you greeted softly, your words muffled as you pressed your face into his broad chest. He slowly moved to embrace you as you lifted your head back. You moved your hand and placed it gently to his face.
"How did you end up like this from a visit to your ma's? Don't tell me she finally had enough of your poetry?" you joked lightly, trying to keep your tone light.
"There was a wee altercation at the pub—nothing you need to worry yourself about," he replied as he sat to unlace his boots.
Your twisted your face into a worried expression, despite your efforts to hide it.
Normally, Paddy getting caught up in some scuffle at the bar wouldn't be that concerning. But with his recent change in mood it had you worried. You watched his hands as they nimbly loosened his laces, and you couldn't help but notice the wounds on his knuckles. Whatever the fight had been about, clearly Paddy hadn't held back. He hadn't been in a fight that serious since the end of the war, and you knew it wasn't just a coincidence.
About a month ago, you began to see a change in him. He was sleeping less, and what sleep he did get was haunted by nightmares. Neither of those were necessarily unusual, but the severity of his nightmares and the effect it was having on his sleep had noticeably worsened.
You knew they were about Eoin. And despite your overwhelming urge to comfort him there seemed to be little you could do to help.
The lack of sleep had begun to make him irritable. He had even snapped at you more than once—something he had never done before, including when you were both in the middle of an active war zone.
Then he had decided to visit his mother for a few days. He hadn't said it, but you knew he was hoping the change of scenery might help his mood.
That's when you had decided to get his present ready.
You had been planning Paddy's birthday for awhile, so thankfully you have everything mostly taken care of already. It would be his first birthday completely free from the war and all the fighting, and you had wanted to make it special.
But he clearly needed something to lift his spirits, so you had scrambled to get everything organized before he got home. You hoped it would help him, even if it was just a little bit.
But now you were second-guessing yourself.
What if it only brought up bad memories? It was meant to do the opposite, but that was the thing about war; not even happy memories were safe from the darkness and pain they had gone through. Maybe trying to give him more of a connection to Eoin would only make him feel worse.
Either way, it was a too late to change it now.
"Does it hurt? Do you want aspirin? Or an ice pack?" you offered.
Paddy scoffed, setting his boots to the side.
"It looks worse than it is. And you know well enough I've had twice as bad and didn't need nursing."
You folded your arms, "Well it's not like we had much access to ice in the desert—or basic medicine for that matter. We're home now you know; it's okay to rely on modern comforts now that we have them again."
He huffed, but said nothing.
You chewed on your lip as you watched him stand. You weren't exactly sure how to bring it up; particularly now that you had begun to question how well it would actually help him.
Paddy noticed immediately, tilting his head as he raised a brow.
"I've never known you to hesitate speaking your mind—what's wrong?"
"What?" you asked, surprised by how quickly he picked up on your reluctance, "Can I not take time to choose my words?"
"You never have before."
You scowled, "You make me sounds like a person who always shoots first and asks questions later. I can be thought you know."
"Love, the last time I made you mad you literally shot at me," he reminded you skeptically.
You pursed your lips, "Well, you deserved that—and technically I shot at the ground in front of you." You turned your nose up as if insulted, "If I had actually been aiming at you, you would be dead—or at the very least seriously maimed."
Paddy smirked at that. He walked back over to you, wrapping his arms around your back.
"My mistake," he said as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head, "So what is it that's got the woman who confidently shot in close proximity to me so quiet?"
You pulled back, looking away.
"I got you a present," you said after a moment.
"A present?" he asked, "As far as I'm aware, presents aren't supposed to make you nervous."
"I'm not nervous. I just…" you trailed off. After a moment of silence, you sighed., "Well, either way it's all set up now. It's in the parlor."
His eyes moved to the doorway that led into the room where his gift waited.
"Can I go and see?" he asked.
You smiled hesitantly and nodded. Permission granted, he headed through the parlor door.
He didn't noticed much of a difference as he stepped in. Although some of the furniture had been rearranged it more or less looked the same. He was wondering what he was missing, when he turned to look towards the far wall and froze.
There, up against the wall, was a piano.
You had both talked about getting one as soon as you had moved in, but with how busy you had been with the move and then the wedding you just hadn't had the time to figure out the logistics.
You shifted on your feet as he slowly made his way toward it.
Not that it wasn't the piano that you were worried about.
At first he just stared at it, the wood polished and glossy. He ran his hand over the cover of the wood as a thoughtful expression overtook his face. He was so taken by it he hadn't noticed his other gifts. As he eyes roamed the instrument, he finally caught sight of them sitting along the top of the piano.
Arranged in a row on the piano's lid were photos.
There were the familiar ones you already had in the house: The picture of the SAS at Jalo, the photo of you and Paddy in the desert, along with Paddy's military portrait and your wedding photo. But mixed among them were a few new frames holding pictures Paddy had never seen before.
They were of Eoin.
There was one of him from his time in the commandos, his hand raised against the sunlight as he smiled towards the camera. Another was his military portrait, sat right next to Paddy's.
Then, in the middle next to your wedding photo, was a picture of the two men together.
Paddy looked stoic as ever, with Eoin standing beside him. He was smiling wide, his arm wrapped around Paddy's shoulders.
He had completely forgotten the photo existed. He had never seen it, and only vaguely remembered having taken it. But there it was, placed in a spot of honor among the memories you shared together.
After staring at the photo for a long, silent stretch, he slowly moved to pick it up. He held it gently in his hands, his gaze intense as he took in every detail.
"I was going to wait until your birthday, but I thought you might want them now," you swallowed the lump in your throat, "I hope it's okay—I'm realizing now that I may have overstepped—I know you like to keep that time to yourself, and I don't want to bring up any hurtful memories. I just…thought it might cheer you up."
You could see his jaw was clenched tight, his body unnaturally still.
"Where did you get this?" he asked at last. It was subtle, but you could hear the hesitation in his voice.
"It wasn't exactly easy," you said with a small smile, still unsure of how he was feeling, "I had to rope David into helping me. I didn't even know there was a photo of you two together. I was just hoping someone in the commandos had thought to bring a camera, and that maybe they had gotten a picture of him."
After another long stretch of silence, he suddenly turned to you. In a few big strides he was next to you, pulling you into a hug so tight it almost hurt. He buried his face into your hair, taking in a shaky breath. You thought he might be crying, though it was hard to say with his face hidden from view.
You wrapped your hand around him, your hands sliding up his broad back.
He whispered a quiet thank you into your hair, barely audible in the quiet room. You squeezed him tighter in response.
The two of you stood there silently, allowing yourselves to exist in the moment. You didn't rush him, hoping he would let himself feel whatever it was he was feeling instead of pushing it away.
You didn't know much about his relationship with Eoin. Paddy had mentioned little things here and there, but in general he had a tendency to keep those memories to himself. And that was okay—he was allowed to have his privacy just like anyone else—but it did make it harder to help him through the feelings that were now clearly plaguing him.
You certainly had your suspicions about the extend of their relationship. You weren't stupid; it's clear from even the small amount that you had been told that their relationship was closer than any normal friendship. Whether or not it was any more than that didn't matter—all that mattered was he had been important to Paddy.
You weren't quite sure how long you stayed there wrapped together in silence, but eventually Paddy pulled himself away. His hands stayed on your shoulders as he locked his eyes with yours.
He moved down and pressed his lips to yours, the kiss filled with all the emotion he couldn't convey with words. You kissed him back, your hands moving up to wrap around the nape of his neck. He broke away, his forehead coming to rest against yours.
"I love you," he whispered hoarsely.
You smiled back at him, "I love you too."
You stood a moment longer, enjoying the closeness, before you moved your head back to look at him. You could tell he didn't know what to say. You glanced at the piano before moving your eyes back to him, "Would you like to play a bit before dinner?"
He smiled gratefully at you.
"I haven't played since we left Jalo—I've probably lost all the training you gave me."
You smiled warmly back at him.
"That's alright. We have plenty of time to practice now."
He gave you another quick peck on your temple as the two of you moved towards the piano, sitting side by side on the bench as you lifted the lid to reveal the ivory keys.
Soon, the sound of Fur Elise drifted through the house. Every so often, Paddy's eyes would glance up at the photos above him. He would linger on the photo of him and Eoin, before moving eyes to the picture of the two of you together on your wedding day.
That night, you laid in each others arms and slept soundly through the night.
Listen I don't get to decide when the drunk elf that is my executive actually does the functioning but when he does we have a SMALL WINDOW OF TIME before he finds the schnapps again and we're done
