#pendleton x reader

He wondered what you were like on the street, but you didn’t live terribly close, and he rarely saw you from his limited view of the square at the end of the alley that his window overlooked.

Drawing a deep breath to bolster himself, he let you into the one-room flat. It was a squalid little thing, filled with desks and only one chair. The bed was hidden in the wall since he had reinvented it so he could pull it in and out on springs; the very first vertical wall bed (but he would never tell his landlord since he had technically defaced the building to make it).

However, to you who was used to sharing one room with your six family members, this was a palace, and best of all, it was filled to the brim with dreams. Pendleton’s inventions were a sight to behold, and you loved nothing more than when he shyly agreed to let you see one.

“Oh my,” Pendleton softly exclaimed when he couldn’t see you behind the three stacked crates. He had ordered more than usual without thinking, his new, albeit mysterious employer having recently paid handsomely for something as simple as a fold-up surgeon’s blade.

“Easy to transport for… Operations,” His employer told him at the time.

Pendleton rushed forward, taking the top crate to reveal your face, angelic to him.

He blushed, offering you his trademark shy smile, “Ah, please, put the crates-”

“In the corner,” You laughed playfully. “I know.”

You proceeded to follow him and place them down, returning to the door all too quickly.

“Is that all today, Sir?”

He had told you to call him Pendleton a million times, and for the most part, you did, but when you were leaving, it was always back to Sir.

He nodded meekly; the veiled question you asked was if he had anything new to show you, but today there were no new blueprints. “I’m afraid so.”

He hated not having more for you; he didn’t want you to leave so soon. Your smile was bright and your step energetic. You reminded him of the flowerboxes at people’s windows; a spot of colour to distract from the drabness.

You noticed the melancholic tone and tilted your head pityingly, “Mr Pendleton, Sir, have you eaten today? You look tired.”

“Oh, um- well-” Pendleton couldn’t meet your eyes, so full of concern for him of all people, “There’s so little time in the day and-”

You shook your head and chuckled, “No wonder you’re not yourself, you silly goose.”

You grabbed his hand in a manner that anyone would have found too forward, especially since you didn’t have an escort, but you didn’t care since there was nobody around to see.

“Come on then, we can go to the bakery, they’ve got these lovely jam tarts now. It’ll perk you right up.”

You had barely got him past the threshold of his room when Pendleton drew back, pulling his arm from you. He so desperately wanted to spend time with you, but the outside world was large and scary and altogether out of his control; he preferred to stay inside where he could control every variable and not have to worry about what other people thought of him.

“I- I can’t. There’s… much work to be done,” He seemed to shrink, backstepping into his room. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” You wilted, afraid that you had been too much. Your father told you off for being a Church Bell, always chinwagging when you ought to be working, but you hadn’t meant any offence to Pendleton.

You tried to put on your best smile, cheeks aflame with embarrassment from the scene you had caused, “Well then, promise me you’ll at least take care of yourself, Sir. You need to stay healthy, yeah.”

Pendleton nodded, waved you goodbye and ran to the window as soon as he shut the door.

He watched you leave with a noticeably sadder step than your usual jolly skip. It was hardly noticeable, but when one spent as much time people-watching as he did, they noticed even the smallest changes in people’s demeanours.

Sighing when you were out of his purview, Pendleton slumped at his desk, staring into space for a few minutes, daydreaming about what could have been if he’d accepted your offer.

Still, there was no point in wasting away the day. He had still greatly enjoyed your company, and he had even learned something about you. You liked jam tarts; of course you did, they were about the only thing as sweet as you were.

He whispered your name dreamily, then set himself upright, tying up his hair so it wouldn’t bother him while he worked.

The very next day, Pendleton fell from his chair when there was a knock on his door. He wasn’t expecting any clients, nor was he going to part with any of his other inventions yet. Oh no, was it the Landlord? But he had paid his rent, hadn’t he? Admittedly, he could have lost track of the days spent tinkering, but he didn’t believe so.

“I’m coming,” He said, trying to calm his anxiety.

He yanked the door open, taken aback to find you standing there.

“(Y/N),” He stammered your name, words failing as he looked at you.

You weren’t in your work clothes, but a second outfit, likely saved for Church or other such formal events, and you were carrying a wicker basket.

“Good morning,” You beamed. “I was worried that you’d forget to eat again, so I brought you breakfast.”

You held out the basket to him, and Pendleton took it with shaking hands, flinching when his thumb brushed against yours.

“I- I- This is so kind, thank you,” He bowed his head sincerely.

“It’s nothing, Mr Pendleton, Sir.”

There was a moment as if you were waiting for something, “Ah- Would you like to join me?”

Pendleton’s smile was strained. His work desks weren’t ideal as breakfast tables, littered as they were with scores of papers, nor did he have another chair to offer.

Still, you grinned, “I’d love to.”

He moved to let you in, and after shutting the door, brightened with an idea. He grabbed his blanket, which he had left on the back of a chair, using it to stay warm in the chilly mornings, and spread it on the floor. He added to this by grabbing his one pillow and a throw cushion to make the floor more comfortable. He bowed with a flourish of his hand, sitting only after you had.

You warmed at Pendleton’s obvious nervousness; he was treating you like you were royalty instead of a mere shop-hand. Taking his lead, you set out a chipped tea set; it was all your family could afford, but the painted bluebells, faded though they were, always made you smile.

Two dainty cups, a teapot with a cosy over it, two plates for food and a platter of finger sandwiches, and as a treat, two fresh jam tarts.

Pendleton flushed. You shouldn’t have spent money on him. Yet, as you jabbered away, telling him about your week, he felt tired; it was exhausting falling head-over-heels in love without having the ability to show it.

If he left his flat more often, he could go to your father and request the right to court you. Then, the two of you would have several escorted dates, and after some months, the two of you might be allowed up to twenty minutes unsupervised.

Instead, he could only keep you as a friend since anything more would be indecent. He tried not to mind so much, especially since you were here with him now, a visitor who sought nothing from him except the promise of his well-being.

The two of you enjoyed your breakfast, with you doing most of the talking and Pendleton laughing softly at your tales. It was almost as good listening to the stories about people as it was to watch them.

Finally, you got to your tart, waiting for him to try his first so you could share the ecstasy of such a wonderful treat. They were a bit too sweet for Pendleton’s taste, but he enjoyed the zeal in your eyes as you tucked into yours, a smidgeon of jam staining the corner of your mouth.

Absently, Pendleton leaned towards you, wiping it away lightly with his thumb, his hand lingering on your cheek for a moment.

“Oh,” You looked at him, a light dust of red peppering your cheeks.

“Oh!” Pendleton snatched his hand back, the intimacy of what he had done striking him. “I’m so sorry, uh ah, would you like some water?!”

He stood up, voice strained as he looked for an excuse to briefly leave the room.

“I’ll get some,” He blared, shutting you inside as he ran away.

You blinked away your surprise at his brusque exit. All he had done was help clean your mess; you were only embarrassed that he had to do so in the first place.

Pendleton stood outside the door, a pail of water in one hand to validate his excuse. His other hand shook, and he drew it back from the door handle. He had to go back inside eventually, but he was so terrified of what you might say.

Finally, he inhaled and forced himself in, ready to stammer his way through another lame excuse, when he saw you poring over his newest design.

He dropped the pail, some water slopping over the top of the bucket.

“Oh, that’s-” He pushed his way between you and his desk to hide his fanciful flying machine. “That’s nothing, really.”

You tapped his shoulder playfully, “Don’t be so modest. It’s wonderful.”

“You- you think so?”

You nodded eagerly, and Pendleton let down his guard, moving away so you could see the design again. He stood behind you, his long hair cascading down and blocking the rest of the world from view, so it was only you, him, and his design.

You were so close, he could smell the potpourri you had crushed against your wrists before visiting. Lavender; it was his new favourite scent.

You rested your hands on the desk, boisterously exclaiming your praise for the Zeppelin, and Pendleton mirrored your position, so he was practically holding you, his head just a breath away from resting atop your shoulder.

“I always wondered what it’d be like to fly,” You said wistfully. “Like the birds in the park, oh, I wish you’d come see them with me. They’re beautiful.”

You suddenly became all too aware that Pendleton wasn’t speaking; the only sound was his breath next to your ear. You looked to him, finding his attention rapt on you, his face so painfully close. Immediately, you felt foolish, always talking and paying little heed to those around you. And where had it gotten you? In a situation all too intimate, yet equally enticing.

Your heart raced. You hadn’t been interested in any of the men about town, or the fancy lads that sometimes called around the shop. It hadn’t occurred to you that the reason why was that your heart might already belong to someone.

“I um-” it was your turn to lose your voice as you turned, Pendleton’s arms still on the desk while you were backed against it.

Pendleton knew he was being a fool. If he didn’t step away from you, you might think him the sort to ruin your reputation, though by your proximity, it was likely too late for that.

His eyes dipped to your lips, all too soft and tempting.

“I- I don’t wish to ruin your reputation,” He whispered, “but I would very much like to kiss you right now.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you dazedly gave a small nod.

Pendleton’s hand traced up your arm, languidly finding purchase in your hair. He dipped forward, his lips softly pressing against yours. Your hands pressed against his chest, not to push him away, but simply to hold onto something real and ensure this wasn’t a fitful flight of fancy.

There was little to the kiss, even though Pendleton already wanted more. It was hardly more than a lingering peck, but it meant the world to him. How could you have seen him when nobody else had, ending his lonely isolation?

Pendleton pressed his forehead against yours, noses touching and his voice husky when he next spoke. “I think… It had best be time for you to leave.”

He didn’t want you to go, but if you didn’t leave now, the late risers would see you leaving his apartment alone, with no excuse of a delivery.

You searched his eyes, trying to glean his thoughts, much less practised in people-watching than he was.

His expression softened, and he parted from you, amending his previous statement, “Though, if you are able, I would enjoy seeing the birds in the park tomorrow.”

Smiling eagerly, you threw your arms around his neck in an energetic hug that knocked him back.

“I’d love that!” Your voice was nearly a shout; you were so happy, fit to burst.

You pecked his cheek before bouncing to the door on a cloud of new love, “Mid-morning tomorrow?”

“I shall meet you there,” Pendleton bowed genteelly as you left his rooms, your tea set well forgotten in the moment.

However, Pendleton never met you in the park, or ever again for that matter. It was that very night that he witnessed the brutalised murder of a woman who reminded him greatly of you, full of life and laughter.

The killer was none other than his mysterious surgeon, a powerful man who terrified Pendleton. And by God, he had supplied the murder weapon, naively having thought it was an invention meant for good.

Pendleton had multiple chances to reveal the killer, but after seeing that and knowing that he would do nothing, he packed up a bag and ran, his room empty of papers, but still full with his desk, a chair, and the memory of love in the form of a forgotten tea set on a blanket.

Pendleton didn’t travel far. It was only to a different borough of London, so you wouldn’t be able to find him. Having seen the murder and done nothing, he knew he couldn’t face you, and that feeling only multiplied with the deaths of four more women, whom his apathy killed.

Your hand slid down his shoulder and slowly down his chest. Your fingers traced small circles on the fabric of his shirt.

"Angular deviation? You sound very tense, love. Very… stiff."

It was useless. His brain, an expert in calculating torque and angular velocities, completely reset itself. All his concentration shifted to the path of your fingers.

You sat on the edge of the table, ruthlessly pushing aside several blueprints. Your dress brushed against his arm. A bare foot found his leg and began to lazily move up and down, from his knee to his thigh.

“I think,” you said, leaning in until your lips were a hair’s breadth from his, “that I’m your most urgent artifact to calibrate.”

Pendleton swallowed. His glasses had fogged up.

“And…and what’s the recommended procedure?” he asked, his voice strangely husky.

You carefully removed his glasses and placed them on the blueprints. Then you took his hand, the one still holding a tiny wrench, and guided it away from the table, toward the warmth of your waist.

“First, the defenses must be dismantled,” you whispered, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. Then the second. Your fingers were infinitely more dexterous than his at that moment. “Then, apply…heavy lubrication.”

Pendleton let out a gasp as your lips finally found his. It wasn’t a soft kiss, but one that tasted of promise and long-planned mischief. His other hand, clumsy and nervous, finally found your hip and pulled you toward him, making you sit completely on his lap. The table creaked in protest.

"The workshop…", he murmured between kisses, while his hands (the inventor's, the ones that measured thousandths of a millimeter) began to explore curves that were not on any plane.

“It’s closed for inventory,” you replied, gently nibbling his lower lip. “A very, very hands-on inventory.”

Pendleton decided, in a final act of rebellion against logic, that the axial synchronizers could go to hell. He abandoned all pretense of control and surrendered to the sweet, chaotic, and perfectly impractical maintenance procedure you had initiated. After all, some parts were made to fit together perfectly, without the need for blueprints.

In london at 1888, you're just a regular house wife with only achild which is a son, and of course a husband. A very typical family of four, the only part that is not is that your husband is abusive and self-esteem mix with a fragile ego, even a word against him could get him into a fit of rage.

You don't even know how you fall for him . Maybe its because you're considered old to find true love during that time/era that goes the same for him too plus his parents would finally shut up about marriage, so yeah both, fucking hit two birds with one stone. And plus he was stable enough to start a family, he just didn't had the materials to.

When your husband first acted off was during your pregnancy where he was annoyed that you were pregnant even tho it was his plan originally, (and he miss fucking so much) he straight up cheats on you even with one of your friend (that claim it was him that seduce her acting like a victim your not sure if she's saying the truth or not but you know for sure that you never see her as a truable friend ever again after that)and yet you still hold it in and forgive him because if you dare to even act out a bit people will consider you as a bad women and so you just suck it in and hold in your anger. Slowly, his toxicness went up as the years went by.

You also grow up in a religion family, so you're quite a religious believer yourself, which is healthily influenced by your parents but you sometimes have some questions tho...

But nonetheless, whenever you had trouble you would start praying for god guided. You still did some wrongs, tho but you never crossed the line of committing a horrible sin, just some white lies and all nothing too bad. You also always pray that your husband will burn in hell, even since that cheating incident happened

You eventually take smoking to release some stress, plus you have already seen how bad alcohol can do to a person, with your husband always being that person at every fucking monday night.

This horrible environment of course, affects both your children.

You try to not get them involved during the scene when he would 'crash out.' Afterward, during bedtime especially, you would get questioned by your son like "Why does daddy act out like that?" and other such innocent questions that always concern you while you're also trying to cover up the bruises that he caused.

The abuse reaches a limit where you can't stand his trash and you even consider a divorce, but it was a big decision and a tough decision for sure to make. I mean you hear more runaway stories than hearing the word divorce, like you never understand the word divorce might as well be considered a scandal and an outrageous thing for people to hear, like the couple probably divorced for a reason?

~~

During a fateful day, you were taking your son out to the park and talking to one of the new neighbor that recently move into the house next to yours. You invented the mother out whose name was ruby, you just want to get to know each other, and Ruby's a new mom trying to get some advice here and there.

But when you turn back to see what your son was doing you glare left and right and slowly realised that was gone!???

You quickly explain to Ruby about the situation and dismiss the meeting before you run off the find your son around that area.

Even worse, the cherry on top was that the sun was starting to set, and the recent news of a serial killer who kills during the night was on the loose and had never been identified. What would that killer do if they found a lost child? This can't be happening, oh goddd.

On another hand, your son was trying to find his way back to the park/playground after playing hide and seek with his friends, but he got so carried away that he went out the park.It was also starting to get dark and him also hearing the news of the killer on the loose that hunts at night. Yeah he almost broke down at the thought of that his life would just end like that.

At the critical moment he look up at the buildings and saw a guy staring out through his window. His eyes were caught by the stranger as people passed around him, all ready to get back home for safety.

He knew that if he didn't do anything, he would be in serious danger and if any opportunity show might as well take it. Even tho he was still very young, he was already brave and understanding enough that you obviously loved it and were impressed by it.

The stranger with long black hair stared back at the child, and yep that's enough sign to go up to that building and guess that the stranger live at that studio.

You eventually give up your short search when a walking pass guy says "Hey dear, aren't you scared that it's near dark now? i mean, there's a murderer on the loose no offence tho."

Your selfishness took over you and you eventually gave up and go back home and just accepted the consequences that you're a horrible person and that your husband might be right...

You begin your search at dawn with a photo of your son, despired you went back to the park and try searching that area again i mean he won't wonder that far right? You were determined to find him, even if he's dead body. Whatever it take you have to find him.

After a few hours pass, you begin acting out by screaming his name and panicking. I mean, how could you not your starting to overthink the worst.

Until you title your head to the sky to idk have some freash air and a look of hope that you saw your son pressing his face and taping the window to draw you attention, and when he realised that he caught your attention, he start smiling and waving. You immediately went up to that building to find your child.

When you found where he was took in you wanted to thank that kind person. That's when you first met him , he introuced himself so nervously you barbly understand what he's trying to say at first but you eventually get the hand of it and find out that his name is Pendleton.

Eventually you then greet him goodbye to go home, on the way back your son won't stop yapping about that guy pendleton about his inventions and they share the same interest together, which is good? cause your son ever since young loved to create things and try something new every day.

Eventually, your son wanted to see that guy again to show him his own small inventions that he created and hadn't been destroyed by the monster of a husband.

And yeah, slowly your son begins to visit Pendleton Studio and you also start to grow fond of him, I mean he is a very kind and sweet man; he just always appears nervous like super nervous, that you feel kinda ashamed to admit that he's probably the most shy person you've met in your life.

But as long as your son is happy and comfortable, it doesn't really matter to you. You also bake some cookies or pastry to offer the man for spending his time with your kid.

You also sort of realised whenever you try to strike up some conversation topic, and him being nervous and all that, you start to find it adorable.

You were also desperate to talk about your problems to someone, but you knew what would happen if you told the wrong person(your fake friends and family). Your life can technically be over at that point; you feel like being in a chokehold every time you enter the 'house'.

So yeah, you eventually did tell him about your stress , he might not be the best at comforting, but sure as hell he is hella good at listening.

You both slowly build your relationship together, and at the peak, with all the tension around there and he also wants to tell you a deep dark secret (where he witnessed a murder)

You were eventually caught 'cheating' by your husband and that day was a horrible day mix in with that he eventually took your life

~~

Your son luckily that night during your murder, ran out of the house fast enough not to get caught and arrived at Pendleton house, where he cried onto him and explained what had happened.

Pendleton was even more afraid when he heard what happened. He knew that you wanted justice but...he was too afraid like how he was before how selfish and helpless he was but what he could do was to take your son in under his care and trest him as his own.

You reach heaven after that, and when you found out what happened afterwards you're glad to hear what Pendleton had done, and your husband also got caught and got sentence to prision but only for 8 years which is disappointing to you, but what can you do now your not even alive to do anything much about it but other than hoping your son would grow up happy and not get tramautize even if he did you can't blame that poor baby it was a natrual reaction to that situation(the monster of a husband and father)

~~

After some time(you lost track of time actually) you finally reunion with your son when he first enter heaven and it was a amzing and you're glad that he die peacefully with natrual causes, but the question is if your son die from old age then wouldn't pendleton arrive to heaven already far before your son how come you never saw him tho??? maybe he was in another form that look completely different from what he look like in human and maybe he changed his name too???hmmmm, maybe you just haven't met him in heaven yet yeah maybe it's just as simple as that

So you continue your life in heaven with your son, and also trying to find Pendleton as your now small mission(you're innocent, you don't know he went to hell, okay)

~~

Then again after some time passed, you were enjoying eating some dessert alongside your son when you were suddenly greeted by your friend, Emily

She was happier than usual and couldn't help but want to ask her what made her so happy that day, but you were cut off when she introduced a new angle that she claimed that he had been redeemed from hell and pushed the snake person in front of you, and introduced Sir Pentious to you

The name sounds similar but you can't really place a hand on it, and you then introduce yourself to him "Welcome to heaven, nice to meet you sir Pentious, my name is (y/n)"you say, shaking his hand to be polite

The moment you say your name, you saw his pupil become large. It was adorable seeing it; it almost caused you to let out a few chuckles.

"Your name is (y/n)...?" he asked and you nodded your head back in response while smiling as your son moved near you to join in the conversation as well.(You didn't change your name, you're still using the same human name)

"And my name is (your son name)"your son introduces himself to Sir Pentious. The guy then stood there frozen as if trying to process something and put somthing up toghter.

And when he does (and almost got taken away by Emily and her friends to explore heaven even more) he burst into tears and hug both you and your son before saying, "I finally found you guys."