#vic1

The Presence was back, and planted squarely on his goddamn face.

A panicked flail, the first time, a hard shove the second and third, simply rolling over had all worked in the past, but he was no closer to determining the source of the phenomenon. Some mornings it felt like a weight on his chest, but just as often it was a weight across his face, a spreading, soft, but suffocating warmth that caught him off guard and stopped his intake of air. Ian had considered congestive problems, the possibility of some kind of massive sleep apnea, or goddamned night terrors, until one morning he woke up and shoved the thing off his face (why would that help a congestive problem? how the fuck would that work?) and the sensation of claws raked across his face.  He heard something thump on the ground for the first time as he hissed in pain, but when he sat up to look nothing was there, no sign of disturbance among the piles of clothes fallen by the wayside of his bed.

Clearly, he was going nuts.

Clearly, he was not going nuts, as he examined the small neat stripes of red across his cheekbone in the foggy bathroom mirror. The shower had cleared his head, but his new morning ritual of not-fucking-breathing felt no less real, and it’s hard to imagine how he could have Crazy™ed his way into putting claw marks on his face in his sleep.

The new apartment had felt a little creepy, but no more so than any new, untested space was. He’d felt watched, but it wasn’t until the breathing problem he’d given any credence to the primal voice in the back of his head shouting at him that he wasn’t alone.

“….hello?”

He felt like an idiot, staring out from the safe warm alcove of his bathroom, in only a towel, unshaved, as he surveyed his bedroom for potential supernatural threats.

“Is someone there?”

He was definitely an idiot.  Ian’s shoulders slumped as he scrubbed his hand through damp hair, turned to shuffle back into the wet warmth and deal with his scruff, and dove face first towards the side of the tub as something ankle high neatly tripped him on its way out the door. He scrabbled and barely caught himself, inches from breaking teeth and nose and neck on the faded enamel, panting and swearing as he slumped to the floor to let the warning lights of panic die down in his brain a little bit. Or ramp up. He was living with some kind of goddamned malevolent spirit. Fuck. It had just tried to kill him. It had been attempting to smother him for days. Fuck. What the fuck was he going to do?

Anonymous asked: Can you do one where you’re like really good friends with Vic and so you’re on tour with PTV and like you’re just getting out of an abusive relationship but Vic says he loves you but you’re scared and fluff and angst? /.\

You let out a deep sigh as you read the message on your phone from Vic which read 'I just don't understand why we can't be together. I like you so much and I know you feel the same.'

Your thumbs did a little dance over the keypad on the phone as you thought of how to reply. Maybe you should just be honest, but what if it ends up like your last relationship?

You really liked Vic but the idea of a relationship honestly scared you ever since you and Bradley had broken up. Well to be honest it wasn’t really a break up. That relationship had ended with a call to the cops from your neighbor, Bradley getting arrested, and you being rushed to a hospital covered in blood and bruises.

Bradley had always been an angry guy, and you knew that getting into the relationship but you never thought he would hit you. It just happened one day during a particularly nasty fight, and you thought nothing of it. Until it happened again, and again, and again. Your life getting turned into a whirl wind of emotional and physical abuse.

This happened all before you met Vic so he doesn’t understand why you don’t want to be in a relationship right now. You wanted to tell him, you wanted to break down in his arms, and you wanted him to tell you that it was okay because he was here.

You continued to stare down at the text from the man you desperately wanted to be with, but you couldn’t bring yourself to reply so you locked your phone.

How could he understand anyway? You asked yourself as you let a sudden fit of rage take over your body.

"HOW COULD ANYONE UNDERSTAND!" You yelled into the empty room, tossing your phone against the wall as angry tears slipped down your face.

You pulled your knees into your chest and began to bawl, but thats when you heard your bedroom door open. You look up to see Vic peeping his head into the room. His eyes were filled with a sympathetic glaze.

You quickly wiped away the tears and cleared your throat before saying “Vic, what are you doing here?”

He entered the room at a slow pace almost as if he were afraid of what might be said next. Then he explained “Y/N, I’m here to talk about us.. or well what we should be.”

You sighed before getting up and crossing your arms over your chest and replying “I told you there can’t be an us right now. I can’t explain it because you wouldn’t understand. I just need you to except that.”

He came a little closer and his voice got slightly louder as he said “Thats the point though! How can I understand something we’ve never even talked about. I would still want you no matter what so i need you to except that we belong together.”

You cringed at his raise in voice even though it was just slighty louder it scared you. Getting yelled at was never your strong suit but due to recent events it was now almost unbearable. A million visions of your days with Bradley danced through your mind, and you had no idea what to do.

Before you could figure out what to do Vic had pulled you into a warm hug, snapping you back into reality, and thats when your vision began to blur before the tears pooled over onto your cheeks like rain drops racing down the side of a car window.

You cried in his arms until you pulled yourself together and explained everything to him. You told things to him in detail that you hadn’t even told to the police.

At the end of your story you looked up at Vic and he just stood there with a blank expression on his face. You pulled away and made your eyes look anywhere but at him before mumbling "I told you that you wouldn't understand."

"Y/N, I -" he started to say grabbing your hand in his but you pulled away and said "No I don't want your pitty."

He put his hand under your chin and turned your face to look at him before he placed his lips gently on yours. Your lips started moving together passionately but slowly in sync. When you pulled apart he smiled and said "I told you I'd want you no matter what.