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lovelylogans · 3 years

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puppy love

roger: do you want another cup of marriage? anita: excuse me? roger: tea? another cup of tea? anita: you said marriage. roger: uh, marriage? anita: yes, that’s what you said. i—i mean, you meant to say tea... but it—it came out marriage. roger: oh, i’m sorry. uh—do you want another cup of... tea?

—101 dalmatians

warnings: misbehaving dog, misunderstanding that might cause secondhand embarrassment, please let me know if i’ve missed any!

pairing: virgil/logan, offscreen patton/janus

word count: 2,732

notes: this is for day four of @analogicalweek! the prompt of the day is “alternate universe” and i have decided to write a "i think my dog likes your dog” au, based off the introduction of anita and roger in 101 dalmatians! please enjoy!

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Logan would have named his dog Tesla if the name had not already become popular due to the brand and if he did not have a deep-seated dislike of Elon Musk, but as it has, and as he does, his dog’s name is Nikola instead. He had finally given in and adopted her after his brother, Patton, had been wheedling him to adopt or foster one of the animals for years from the shelter he serves as veterinarian.

Nikola is a very intelligent dog. In the two-and-a-half years he has had her since she was a puppy, he has taught her a variety of tricks—the usual things, like sit, shake, stay, but also more unusual tricks like fetching him water bottles or tissues or any number of things that she knows the name of and is within her reach. She is a mix of two intelligent breeds—rottweiler and German shepherd—and as such learning and practicing tricks helps keep her from being bored.

She has a surplus of enrichment toys. She never rips up shoes or furniture. She keeps an obedient trot at his side on hikes and runs ahead if he tells her to. She waits after he throws something for her to fetch until he says to run, and she has learned to sit before they cross the street. She is a very well-trained dog.

Which is why it is so surprising when, as soon as he crouches to unleash her at the dog park they go to on Sundays, weather permitting, she snatches his baseball cap meant to keep the spring sun out of his eyes, and goes running off as if he has told her to fetch a tennis ball.

“Nikola!” He calls, out of being startled more than anything, before he starts to jog after her.

Nikola runs, just a black-and-brown streak of fur with the navy blue of his cap clamped between her teeth, and Logan is really quite fortunate that he spends most Saturdays, weather permitting, hiking, and weekday mornings on jogs besides. This habit has kept him in shape, however, it has also contributed to keeping Nikola in shape, and as such she is a very fast and athletic dog. He wonders briefly if he’ll catch her before he makes too much a fool of himself.

But just as suddenly as she’d started running, she stops at one of the benches installed around the dog park, dropping his cap on the bench and then immediately moving to the dog sitting beside her owner, Nikola wagging her tail and panting and looking quite pleased with herself, with eyes only for the other dog. The other dog, all black excepting the white splotch on her chest, looks at Nikola curiously, but does not crouch in a playful posture or otherwise react.

“Nikola, really,” he scolds, picking up his cap and jamming it back on his head. Then he looks to the man sitting on the bench with the dog that Nikola now seems enamored with, intent on apologizing for disturbing him or his dog, but his mouth goes dry almost immediately.

The man with the dog sitting calmly at his side is very handsome.

He’s brown-skinned and black-haired—he’s Latino, Logan thinks—and in the middle of reading a book. Logan isn’t sure what book, based on the way his hands are placed, his long, elegant fingers covering the title. He’s also listening to music, as evidenced by the white wireless earbuds placed in his ears.

It’s likely that Nikola’s tomfoolery hasn’t disturbed him at all. The man only gives Logan a look—his eyes, which are a stunning shade of brown so dark they’re practically black—and returns his attention to his novel.

Logan clears his throat awkwardly, jams his cap back on his head, and turns to Nikola, who is still trotting around them, seeming very pleased with herself, wagging her tail, looking every inch a pompous showdog.

Sometime in the middle of watching Nikola, the exceptionally handsome man has closed his book and stood up, and Logan tries his best not to pay him any mind as he walks away.

“Helena, come,” he says, with a deep, lovely voice that hits Logan somewhere in the sternum. He has an accent—Spanish, maybe? Portuguese? Logan isn’t very familiar with romantic languages outside of English, other than the Latin he took throughout high school and college. Nikola is still looking very excited, but the black dog—Helena—stands and follows after the man.

“Nikola, really,” he repeats weakly, and crouches before her, gathering her leash in hand and preparing to let her loose so they can, perhaps, play a game of fetch, or something that does not involve Logan running after her like a madman.

But of course not. Whatever mood Nikola’s in persists, as she suddenly pulls forward, forcing Logan to get up off the ground lest he be dragged in her wake, and he really does not want to be dragged along the ground at the dog park, so he does, scrambling after her and trying to regain his balance.

He doesn’t notice she’s looping her leash around the man’s knees until it’s too late.

Which brings him to notice that she is also backtracking to loop around his knees.

He cannot help but notice when Nikola pulls tight and it brings Logan and the man colliding forcefully, chest-to-chest.

“Oh!” The man grunts. His chest is warm and broad. Logan would quite like to curl up under a nearby rock and never come out and also, if Nikola understood human terms, she would be so grounded. As it is he is absolutely revoking treats for her behavior today, even if the man is now putting a hand on Logan’s shoulder and it radiates warmth through his shirt.

“I beg your pardon,” Logan splutters, “I’m so sorry, please excuse me, I’ve no idea what’s gotten into her—”

At the same time, the man is saying “What the hell, oh my God, what—” and trying to push them apart, Logan stumbling with it.

Which makes the man stumble, which makes Logan stumble a little more, and very suddenly, they’re overbalancing, and Logan lands on top of him, the man wheezing as his back meets the ground, surely knocking the wind out of him. Even with that, he puts a hand at Logan’s waist to keep him from falling off of him into the dirt.

“I’m so sorry,” Logan gasps, and looks over—Nikola and Helena are side by side, Helena still haughty, Nikola still seeming very self-congratulatory.

“Nikola, bad girl,” he scolds. She doesn’t even have the decency to look chastened. “I swear she’s never like this, I really am so sorry—”

Logan manages to loosen the leash from around their knees and rolls off the man, apologizing all the while.

The man manages to sit up, eyes wide, and promptly Helena comes trotting over to him, leaning heavily into his side.

“Uh, that’s,” the man coughs, “that’s okay. It—it wasn’t your fault. Um.”

He threads his fingers throughout Helena’s long fur, and Logan whistles sharply. Nikola at least has the good sense to return to his side.

“I am very sorry,” he repeats and stands, offering a hand to the man. The man hesitates before he releases Helena and takes it, allowing Logan to pull him to his feet.

Logan picks up the book—oh, he’s handsome and he has good taste, too, he’s reading On Beauty by Zaydie Smith, of course he had to go and look like an absolute buffoon in front of him—and holding it out for him.

The man takes his book back, eyes wide, before he looks to the dogs.

And then, of all the things to do, he starts to laugh.

Logan looks, too, and he feels his face crack into a grin.

Nikola is wagging her tail eagerly, staring at Helena, and Helena, at last, seems to look back at her. Her tail, almost grudgingly, starts to wag, too.

“I think your dog has a crush on my dog,” the man says, amused.

“I can’t deny that observation,” Logan admits. Sure, Nikola will play with other dogs, but she’s never been so sweet to another dog before. Even if he is irritated with her for running off, he can’t quite hold onto his sense of annoyance as Nikola makes doe-eyes at Helena.

“Like a regular Romeo,” the man says, then makes a face. “No, scratch that. Um—”

“She’d be a Juliet, regardless,” Logan interrupts.

He relaxes his shoulders. “Good. Romeo’s overused.”

He catches Logan’s confused eye, and explains, “My brother’s name is Roman. He crushes on people a lot. It was an easy joke growing up.”

“Ah,” Logan says, waits a beat, before he says, “It’s odd I know your dog’s name and your brother’s name before I know yours?”

“I have another brother named Remus,” he offers. “And, now that you know my family tree except me, I’m Virgil.”

“Well, I have a brother named Patton, and a brother-in-law named Janus,” Logan says. “I’m Logan.”

Virgil’s brow crinkles up. “Not Janus Ophidian?”

“The same,” Logan says.

“Small world,” Virgil says thoughtfully. “He’s a pain in my ass.”

He immediately blushes, as if he did not mean to say that, but Logan laughs before he can stop himself. Virgil blushes deeper.

“Uh, sorry,” Virgil says. “Sorry, he’s your—”

“No, you’re quite right,” Logan says affably. “He is a pain in the ass, he’d be proud to hear you say it. How do you know him?”

“Coworkers, of a sort,” Virgil says.

“So you’re a lawyer?” Logan says curiously.

“No,” Virgil says. “He’s in immigration law, right?”

“Correct.”

“I’m a translator,” Virgil says. “They hire me on retainer, sometimes, for clients who speak Spanish or Portuguese and not as much English. Or Catalan, or Aromanian, or Asturian, but those are way less common.”

“Interesting,” Logan says. “You’re a polyglot?”

“Six languages fluently, and three enough to make conversation,” Virgil says, then, “Aw, look at that.”

Nikola is nosing at Helena, and, after waiting a moment, Helena noses her back, their muzzles pressing together in a facsimile of a kiss.

“Well,” Logan says, unsure of what to really say to that, because it really is quite adorable. Then, “I suppose they’d like to spend time together. Would you like to sit back down on the bench to talk?”

Virgil smiles at him, more a quirk of his mouth than anything, and Logan’s heart flutters in his chest.

Please be single, please be single, he prays to no one in particular as they sit down together.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Virgil asks, ensuring that he has marked the page (his bookmark advertises for a small, local independent bookshop) and closing it, setting it aside.

“Oh,” Logan says, then, because his actual job title is quite long and unwieldy, he says, “I’m an astrochemist.”

“An astrochemist,” Virgil repeats, sounding intrigued. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that. What do you do all day?”

Logan brightens. “Well,” he begins, and off he goes.

He knows he can be something of a rambler, especially when it comes to topics he’s passionate about, and especially when it comes to astrochemistry, a combination of his two most favorite scientific disciplines of study. It only takes someone five minutes of listening to him ramble to discover he’s passionate about his work and the discoveries they make.

But he can’t help it. It’s the best thing in the universe, what he gets to do—use radio telescopes to detect the electromagnetic radiation that’s given off by objects in space, establishing what substances are in space and in what quantities, which can potentially come to tell the story of how the universe was made.

He gestures frequently with his hands, his voice rising in volume as he talks about the significance of his work, the knowledge he’s helped discover, the theories they have. He sweeps a wide, expansive gesture to the sky, and points in the approximate direction of the various planets and stars of study. All the while, Helena and Nikola move to chase each other in circles, and all the while, Virgil alternates between watching the dogs with a soft look, and then looking back to Logan with genuine interest shining in his eyes, along with something Logan can’t quite name—well, he did just meet this man, he supposes that isn’t unreasonable.

Whatever the look is, though, it increases the excitement of lecturing about something he loves to someone who wants to learn, something in his stomach fluttering, his heart beating loud in his ears.

He’s about to start explaining the use use theoretical models as well as computer visualizations to help them explain their observations in terms of known physical and chemical principles, and how it helps them study the origins of extraterrestrial bodies and the chemical processes that have shaped their present forms when he stops, abruptly aware of how long he has been talking.

“Goodness,” Logan says, suddenly shy, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m so sorry, I’ve just talked away a good portion of your afternoon. Um. That’s the—that’s the sum of what I do on a daily basis. Which is what you asked.”

Virgil has that same quirk to his mouth as before, and that look in his eyes that had made Logan so eager in the first place.

“I don’t mind,” he says, and scratches at the back of his neck. “Um, I don’t drink coffee, ‘cause I have anxiety—Helena’s my emotional support dog, actually—”

Her stillness and calmness at the start of the whole debacle makes sense, then.

“—but, um. There’s a café nearby with outdoor seating, would you wanna maybe go... get a cup of marriage?”

Logan blinks at him, mouth agape.

“Excuse me?” He manages to squeak out.

Virgil blinks right back.

“Tea?” He clarifies, as if he was unsure if Logan heard him over the sound of other dogs and humans in the park. Goodness, there’s other dogs and people in the park, when did that happen? When did it get so crowded? “Would you want to maybe go get a cup of tea?”

“You,” Logan says, certain that his face is flaming red. “You said marriage.”

Virgil blushes then. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, and at last he says, “Marriage?”

“Yes,” Logan says. “You—you said marriage. I mean, you meant to say tea, but it—it came out marriage.”

Virgil’s brow furrows. He thinks for a few moments. Then it seems to click, and he buries his face into his hands.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” Virgil groans. “It was nice to meet you and you’re very attractive and also you were so excited about your work so I have started liking you in a friendly way but also in a I’d like to date you way but I just proposed marriage barely an hour after we met, so I’m going to go fling myself into the creek so I never have to see you again, I can’t believe I said that.”

Helena has untangled herself from Nikola and is currently butting up against Virgil’s shins, seemingly in an attempt to get him to calm down.

“No! No,” Logan says hastily. “No. Oh, please don’t do that, um. Tea sounds great. Tea sounds lovely. I also think you’re very attractive and like you in both a friendly and romantic sense!”

Virgil peeks out from between his fingers. “Really?”

“Really,” Logan promises. “In fact, would you like to go get a cup of tea with me? Right now? As a date?”

Virgil grins at him weakly. “I guess a date sounds more reasonable than marriage right off the bat, doesn’t it?”

Logan smiles back at him, as encouragingly as he can. “It does. I’d like to go on a date with you.”

Virgil’s grin strengthens. “Great! Okay. Okay. Um—follow me, then?”

They both pause to leash their dogs, sharing a bashful smile with each other, and Logan follows Virgil and Helena to the gate of the dog park.

Nikola’s strange sense of mischief has worn off; she’s trotting obediently at his side again. To think, he’d thought Nikola had just caused all this trouble for nothing, and now he’s going on a date with a handsome, intelligent man.

He sneaks her a treat as they exit the park, on the way to the café just down the street.

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logan’s dog, nikola virgil’s dog, helena

#my post #text #my fic #analogical #analogicalweek #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #logan sanders

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danijimenezv · 3 years

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Jill Valentine: All About the Past

Date of Birth: February 14th, 1992

Place of Birth: Manhattan, New York

Home: Valentine-Westbrook Estate, in the outskirts of Manhattan.

Family: She’s the third child of Haley (née Westbrook) and Matthew Valentine, and the second daughter. The oldest, Lucas Valentine, was born on January 12th, 1882, followed by Katherine Valentine, born on March 16th, 1884. The youngest, Ivy Valentine, was born on April 18th, 1994.

Growing up, Jill was a total daddy’s girl. And the Valentine girls had Matthew completely wrapped around their little fingers. He would go to the ends of the Earth if his girls asked him to. She wasn’t as close with her mother; the two of them had similar strong character, so they usually clashed, but their relationship was still strong. All of that was until the moment Jill decided to pursue human medicine instead of veterinary medicine, like she was supposed to. Her decision created a huge rift between them, and although they didn’t disown her and still paid for her education, her parents didn’t save their comments to themselves. Both of them, but especially her mother, made sure that she understood how disappointed they were in her. They thought she was throwing away her life, all they had built for her. Jill got used to those resentful comments and passive-aggressive remarks, but they still did their fair share of damage, and her relationship with her parents was never the same after that.

Jill is much closer with her older brother than with any of her sisters, because they share the most similarities, but the four of them are tight-knit. Lucas is ten years older than her, and the considerable age-gap caused their relationship to be as smooth as it could get between siblings. Since the moment she was born, Jill became Luke’s little princess, he spoils her immensely and he’s defensive and overprotective when it comes to her. In turn, Luke became Jill’s hero, and she looks up to him for absolutely everything. And when the time came, Luke was the one to really believe and support her, unlike their parents.

Her relationship with Katherine varies from time to time. Kat is eight years older than Jill, and acts as a protective and bossy older sister as much as she can. The age-gap is enough so they don’t exactly fight for possessions or games like a pair of sisters would. Though, much to Jill’s dismay, Katherine is almost an exact copy of their mother, so she clashes with her more than with the rest of her siblings. It also doesn’t help that Jill grew up being constantly compared to Katherine, so there’s a residual resentment underneath that make their relationship rocky from time to time. Still, the two love each other deeply and would do anything for one another.

With Ivy, the dynamic shifted, because she was no longer dealing with older siblings; with her, Jill became the older sister. she’s two years older than Ivy. She’s protective and defensive of her, but without being overbearing like their two older siblings would. Being closest in age, they shared most moments growing up and bonded over their similar experiences together. Between them, existed the usual fights for toys, games, clothes and make-up that didn’t exist with the other two, but also a better understanding of what the other was experiencing. Still, while Jill is a close copy of their older brother, Ivy resembles Katherine more, so they clash from time to time.

Jill grew up in a privileged home, as part of a wealthy family. Though, her parents didn’t want a nanny to raise their kids, so they got involved as much as they could and were really hands-on. They had a butler, Roman, that was just as involved as their parents, but never stepped in as a replacement for them. She grew up with three siblings, two older and one younger, in the family estate, in the outskirts of Manhattan.

Coming from a traditional family with old money, Jill’s upbringing was different from what anyone expected; it was a pretty strict environment. As per custom, at the age of six, each Valentine has to take a set of important decisions, established from generation to generation; they have to choose an artistic skill to develop, a music instrument, a language to study and a sport, so all of them would be educated in every area. Jill chose dancing, piano, French and tennis, respectively. And, coming from a family of veterinarians, at the age of ten each Valentine gets a pet, so they can learn to be responsible and mature from a young age; each of them are in charge of everything their pet might need, including food, exercise, medicines, etc. Jill’s first pet was a cat named Theo.

Even though she’s from a wealthy family, Jill was taught to do chores and earn everything by herself. She was taught to cook the basics, do laundry, sweep, vacuum, wash dishes, clean bathrooms, dust, mop, iron clothes, mow the lawn… And once she turned fifteen, she was also expected to work half-time two days a week at the Veterinary Hospital with her parents, to learn about hard work. She had a trust-fund, but she never used it because she only spent what she had truly earned.

Growing up, she also struggled with really connecting with people outside of her family. Because of her vibrant personality, Jill got along with everyone, but she only considered one of them her true friend, Hunter Griffin. Hunter and Jill became inseparable from the moment they met, when they were merely five years-old, and their friendship only grew stronger with time, and she was sure Hunter loved her for exactly who she was, that’s why it was easy to open up to him. Jill always hated how most of people either wanted her for her family’s fame or money, or expected her to be a clone of her older sister, so she learned to not get too attached to people, friendship-wise and relationship-wise.

All in all, it was a pretty strict and intense environment. It didn’t help that, in her eyes, her older sister, Katherine, was apparently perfect in every aspect, and Jill always felt like she was living in her sister’s shadow, being constantly compared to her. All of it combined only prompted Jill’s partying habit to break out, as a coping mechanism. And even if she partied up as a teenager, she was always the responsible one, never drinking nor doing drugs, but simply letting loose.

Even though Jill lived to her party girl reputation, she kept up her grades close to perfect, which was the main reason her parents could never ground her for going to any and every party and staying out all she wanted. She attended Léman Manhattan Preparatory School with perfect record. She kept up her GPA and was appointed Valedictorian and Prom Queen, just like the rest of her siblings and family members before them. As a teen socialite, she was constantly bothered by paparazzi and also quite under the spotlight, so every little thing she did ended up being public knowledge, to the point where she’s also been photographed for a few magazine issues. She was a debutante, like it was custom for everyone in her family, and has attended more balls, galas, reunions and charity events than any normal teenager. Though, even if she gained quite a reputation, in public events with her family she’s always been seen as polite, diplomatic, elegant, and downright charismatic, which earned the media’s favor.

Most of it continued all the way to college. She moved away from New York when she was accepted into Harvard; however, she wasn’t a known public figure in Boston, which was something she welcomed deeply, so she finally earned some peace and privacy. She toned down her party girl habits to only from time to time when she felt like it, and instead focused mainly on her studies. Jill quickly became the top student of her class and graduated with honors, part of it because it was something she was passionate about, and another part of it to prove her parents that this was the path for her.

From the moment she turned fifteen, her family set them up with one of her classmates, from another well-known family. His name was Augustus Danvers. The two of them got along great and even though they both tried to make it work, for their families’ sakes, they quickly discovered they didn’t have any actual romantic feelings for one another. Their first time was with each other, but not because there were feelings; it was more because they were used to each other and wanted to get over the curiosity. After that, they came to an agreement, to keep it an open relationship, where both of them could see other people and date whoever they wanted, but for family gatherings and social events, they pretended to be together. Even though they weren’t really together, they agreed to break-up, secretly, during winter break in their senior year, and later amicably broke-up in public after their prom dance.

It was Jill’s only ‘serious’ relationship. Given that she had learned to not get too attached to people, friendship-wise and relationship-wise because of her family name, she never got too close to anyone, and never felt the true want to commit to a single person. She had a long string of casual dates and hookups, but never an actual relationship. It also didn’t help that, from a young age, Jill was witness to Katherine’s devastating heartbreak after being left at the altar, and since that moment, Jill swore to never let that happen to herself. Though, she’s always honest with anyone she’s seeing about what she wants and what she doesn’t, because she would never get someone’s hopes up just to destroy them. She’s mature enough to know what to say to keep things honest and transparent, drama-free, and when to walk away when it’s not something that works for her or the other person.

Once she moved to Boston, she kept things short and casual with everyone. At Edenbrook, she pursued a friends-with-benefits, no-strings-attached kind of relationship with Bryce Lahela, and even went on a couple of casual dates with Rafael Aveiro. Though, Ethan was the game changer. She didn’t realize she was falling for him until it was too late and there was no going back.

Bonus:

A few of Jill’s magazine appearances

For @openheartfanfics Meet My MC Event ☺💕

Tags: @jamespotterthefirst, @takeharryandgo, @aestheticartsx, @choicesfanaf, @fireycookie, @liaromancewriter, @trappedinfanfiction, @tsrookie, @genevievemd, @lucy-268, @writinghereandthere, @queencarb, @gryffindordaughterofathena, @ohchoices, @anntoldst0ries, @bluebellot, @schnitzelbutterfingers, @mysticaurathings, @iemcpbchoices, @itsjustamesshonestly, @shanzay44, @lsvdw-blog, @heauxplesslydevoted, @starryeyedrookie, @casey-v, @mercury84choices, @chaoticchopshopheart, @quixoticdreamer16

#open heart #my oh mc #my open heart mc #jillian valentine

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elisela · 4 years

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in a language you can understand buck x eddie, g, 2k, for anon who asked for Eddie buying little gifts for Buck and hiding them in his work bag

He blames it on hour twenty-three of a twenty-four hour shift when what comes out of his mouth after Chim tosses a bag of Skittles at his face is “I bet I could fit all these in my mouth at once.”

Hen shakes her head, Chim snorts, but Buck narrows his eyes and leans his elbows on the table, pulling himself as close to Eddie as he can get without climbing over the thing. “Coward,” he says, his mouth quirking into a grin, “I bet I could fit two.”

“Not at the station,” Bobby says, sounding bored. “There’s too much paperwork involved if one of you becomes injured on the job, even if it’s your own fault.”

“No, definitely at the station,” Hen says. “There’s more work involved if we have to break in a new probie because one of you idiots chokes to death.”

The conversation drifts, and Eddie forgets about it until he’s at the grocery store later, ignoring the way his son sticks out his lower lip as he begs for a candy bar. When Chris picks up a bag of Skittles, Eddie sighs and says yes, then throws two more bags on the conveyor belt when Chris isn’t looking.

He hides them in Buck’s work bag the next day.

---

“Skip-It,” Hen says, looking wistful. “My neighbor had one when I was a kid and I swear, I used to stare at her for hours when she’d play in the courtyard. I wanted one so badly.”

“Couldn’t you just … skip?” Buck asks, looking confused. “You needed a toy for that?”

Hen rolls her eyes. “It went around your ankle,” she says. “Here, I’ll google it for you.”

“What about you, Cap?” Chim asks, as Buck leans his head in towards Hen to peer at her phone. “Which childhood toy did you miss out on?”

Bobby tilts his head for a moment. “Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots,” he says, refocusing on the pan in front of him. “My Mom thought they were too violent. She’d have a lot to say about what kids are playing with now.”

“Oh, don’t start us on the ‘kids these days’ speech,” Buck groans. “Quick, Eddie, distract him.”

“Uhh,” Eddie says, thinking—he’s sure there are there plenty of toys he’d begged for but never received, but clearly his parents had been right when they said he’d forget about them because he can’t recall a single one, except—“moon shoes,” he says, and at Buck and Hen’s blank look, he appeals to Chim. “You know, they were about four inches tall, like mini-trampolines? My parents said I’d break my ankle.”

“They were probably right,” Buck says. “You know how many calls we get because of trampoline accidents.”

“Alright, Bambi,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Most of us have control over our own limbs. What’s yours, then?”

Buck shrugs. “It’s kinda stupid, but there weren’t any kids in our neighborhood and Maddie wasn’t really into stuff like this, but you remember that game where you had like—a velco glove? And you’d catch a tennis ball?”

“Magic Mitt,” Chim says, snapping his fingers. “I wanted one of those, too. I should buy one for the baby.”

“I’d pay to see a three month old who could catch,” Hen says at the same time as Buck snorts and says, “I bet Maddie will love you throwing a tennis ball at Joy’s head.”

Three weeks later, Eddie’s gently pushing Chris out of the dollar section at Target when he spots a round velcro disc with a tennis ball attached in a bin full of summer games. He grabs two; one gets tossed on the back porch with the rest of Christopher’s outdoor toys, and the other goes in his work bag until it can be transferred to Buck’s locker.

----

The thing is, Eddie’s been in love with Buck for … well. He’d felt something for him right away, the type of attraction that goes beyond surface level, the pull towards another person’s soul, all of Buck’s goodness a lit beacon that illuminated Eddie’s way back to being whole. It was just never the right time, not with all his insecurities, Buck’s insecurities—every time Eddie thought maybe, the universe said not yet. His common sense gave way to guilt when Shannon reappeared, all of Buck’s near-death experiences, the way he so easily lost control of himself when what anchored him was suddenly gone.

It’s not that he thinks they don’t have what it takes to go the distance, but after Shannon—he’s more cautious now. He knows relationships take work and he’s willing to put that in, but he also knows how easily things break, and he’s not about to lose the one shot he has with Buck, so he’s just … waiting for the right time.

It’s probably been the right time for awhile now, but somehow, despite Hen and Chim’s ongoing conversation about who will ask out who first that regularly takes place in front of him (Buck, they unanimously decided), he hasn’t been able to go through with it.

----

After that, it’s little rubber toys that grow in water (shaped like a fireman and a fire truck), a candle that smells like lemon (because Buck had peeled one and eaten it like an orange the week before), a pack of two half-gallon, brown glass jars with “coffee” written on the side after a week that Buck worked three 36 hour shifts, a mini-waffle maker, a jar of Nutella (which Eddie had then been forced to watch Buck lick—so very slowly—off a spoon, an image which had not left his mind for several very long, lonely weeks), a packet of stickers that was surely meant for teachers but Buck immediately started giving out to everyone at the station (Eddie had laughed himself silly at the look on Chim’s face when Buck slapped one of a unicorn that said “great job!” on his uniform shirt and said “great job dating my sister!”), notebooks and silly pens—for months, every time he saw something small and cheap that made him think of Buck, he’d buy it and find a way to hide it in Buck’s bag or locker.

Buck never says anything, but Eddie watches the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he finds something, the way his smile softens into something more private and tender, sees how Buck makes sure he shows whatever it is off in front of Eddie—chugging cold brew straight out of the coffee bottle before he makes a face at the bitter taste, spends hours on the couch playing hangman with Hen in the notebooks, handing her the blue pen with the googly-eyed flamingo on top and keeping the one shaped like a shark for himself, trying to keep a straight face while his shoulders shake with laughter as Bobby reprimands both of them for shooting their coworkers with squirt guns while they run around the fire station. He doesn’t need Buck to say anything—he likes that he doesn’t, that it’s just something between the two of them that Buck doesn’t make into a big deal.

It goes on for so long that it’s almost second nature to pick something up for Buck whenever he goes shopping, and gradually, the gifts get a little more—intentional. A tie-dye hoodie after he sees a picture of an eight year old Buck wearing one (and a matching one for Chris), a “world’s best uncle” mug after Buck worries that Albert sees Joy more than he does and she might start to prefer him, a Greek cookbook after the fifth time they go out to the new restaurant in his neighborhood (Eddie might get more out of that than Buck does considering the sheer amount of baklava that starts appearing at the station—Eddie’s favorite treat).

As it turns out, he thinks about Buck a lot.

-----

“Sasha says you have to get your best friend an extra special Halloween treat,” Chris says, looking over the row of candy carefully.

“Sound like Sasha wants better candy,” Eddie says, grabbing a bag of caramel apple suckers for the station.

And maybe for himself.

Chris gives him a look. “Sasha’s not my best friend,” he says, turning back to the candy. “Buck is.”

“Well, can’t stand in the way of that,” he says. “Go ahead and pick something out.”

Chris finally hands him a bag of fancy marshmallows shaped like mummies, and peers into the cart. “What’d you get him this time?”

Eddie stares at him.

“You always get him something,” Chris says. “He’s your best friend, too, you need to get him something extra special. Hey, maybe you should tell him to get me something special, too.”

“Like he needs any more encouragement,” Eddie says.

On their way through the bakery aisle, he spots frosted cookies with phrases piped onto them; he grabs a witch that says “you’re bewitching” on it, and puts it in Buck’s locker just before the end of their shift.

Buck smiles all the way out to his Jeep.

-----

The week after, it’s a travel coffee mug that says “I think you’re spooktacular” that Buck carries with him on every call for three shifts before Chim puts it in the top rack of the dishwasher and it melts the side.

The pout on Buck’s lips pleases Eddie a little too much. So when he’s browsing the shelves at Target, waiting for Chris to find a costume he finds suitable that is also school appropriate and finds another Halloween themed cup—this time, with “Will you be my boo?” written on it, he only hesitates for a moment before putting it in the cart.

He doesn’t build up the courage to put it in Buck’s bag for two weeks—it’s not until Eddie notices the way that his face falls after six shifts with nothing new appearing in his locker that he shoves it in Buck’s bag after a shift, when Buck runs upstairs to give something to Chim.

They’re saying goodbye to Hen when Buck turns towards him suddenly. “I have something for Chris,” he says, and Eddie’s anxiety spikes when Buck sets his bag down and opens it up. He stares at the cup for a long time, then looks up at Eddie, glances at Hen, and smiles. “Hey, Eddie,” he says, “you wanna go out to dinner with me tomorrow? Like—a date?”

Hen’s bag hits the floor.

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, shaking his head as Buck’s mouth twitches. “No, you don’t get to take credit for this, I practically—that counts as me asking,” he says, waving towards the bag. “I asked you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Buck says, tossing a paper bag at him before standing up and clapping him on the shoulder. “Pick you up at six?”

“I’ll pick you up because I asked you,” he says, looking over at Hen. “I did. Show her the cup, Buck.”

“Dress warm, we’re going to a corn maze,” Buck says, skipping backwards with a wink. “And grab some blankets for your truck!”

-----

The week after their first date, there’s a small framed picture sitting in his locker—Buck with his arm around Eddie’s shoulders at the corn maze, their smiling faces lit by the bonfire, a bottle of beer dangling from Buck’s fingers. The lettering on the frame says “thankful for you” with a tiny leaf etched next to it.

Eddie sets it out on their reception table two years later.

#buddie #buddie fic #911fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #i told you guys i'd make up for the touch-starved one #here is 2k of endless fluff that will rot your teeth out #and bonus halloween because it's spooky season #it's crying over eddie diaz hours #eli writes

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lonelyboxpet · 3 years

Text

little wolf

chapter nine: the pet shop

cw: mentioned past whump, loads of fluff, Pet being so cute your heart might bust, past conditioning, muzzling, fear of abandonment

also Pet finally gets a name in this one!!

tagging: @whumpthisway @carolinethedragon @thehurtsandthecomfurts @oracle-of-maybe @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @shiningstarofwinterfun @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @profesional-idiocy @flower-whump

Javier still hasn't given the wolf a name.

But Pet didn't seem to mind - it always looked like it was gonna melt when he called it "little one" or praised it, or just softly petted it. It still flinched every time he extended a hand, but it usually pressed its head into it afterwards. Well, he wasn't sure if it meant that little one was adjusting to him, or that it had just been taught to do so, but it felt nice anyways.

He found out that it was a female, well, probably a female. When he learned that, he started calling her "she". Pet seemed confused about it at first, but adjusted after some time. And after being called a "good girl" for the first time, she almost started weeping with joy. Javier was slowly teaching her to use her voice more, which always made her all anxious and terrified, but she tried her best to please him.

But it apparently wasn't good enough, she thought with her heart sinking when she saw what Master had in his hand.

,,I promise I'll take it off as soon as I can," said Master and held out the muzzle, ,,but we're going out today and sadly, you gotta wear this. If you want to, you can stay at home, but I would be glad if you came with me."

Pet softly whined. Of course it- she, she corrected herself, Master said it was a she - wanted to go with Master, it doesn't matter if she had to wear a muzzle, she´ll go with Master anywhere he wants.

Master's hands carefully slipped the muzzle on and secured it in place, making sure it's not too tight. She could still open its mouth slightly, to breathe, to whine, to … to talk, only if Master wants that, of course. He also put on her collar and a leash, checked if he hadn't forgotten anything, and they headed out.

Some people we're staring at Pet, obviously, but it wasn't that bad, especially if she lowered and pressed her wings into her sides, clinging to Master's leg like a shadow. They walked a few blocks, until Master stopped at a bus stop. His warm fingers brushed against Pet's fur and she pressed her head into his palm.

,,You're being so good," he praised her. ,,Now we're gonna take the bus. Just keep behaving as you do, alright? I trust you, little one, you can do this."

Pet nodded earnestly, but her stomach clenched. She never rode a bus before. What if she fuckes up? What if Master gets mad at it because she won't do as well as he wants? What if he just leaves it somewhere in this city and gets rid of it and it would have to live on the streets until someone has enough mercy to end its suffering and hit it with a car-

,,Look, the bus is here."

Pet flinched, snapping out of her thoughts. The bus stopped in front of them, a few people got out, and then Master pulled the leash to make her move. She got up quickly and shakily followed Master's steps.

He bought the tickets and hummed a quick "thank you" towards the driver, and then he started to walk through the confined corridor to find a seat. Pet accidentally brushed against someone and flinched away quickly, waiting for a hit that never came. Master climbed onto a seat and patted his leg, then pointed down to his feet. Pet hurried to obey, curling up under the seats, trying to make herself as small as possible.

The ride probably wasn't that long, but for Pet it seemed like ages. Finally, Master softly nudged it. ,,Hey little one, we're here."

The bus stopped and Javier got up, Pet at his heels. They got off and Pet looked around anxiously, her nose trembling as she sniffed all the new smells.

,,You were so good," smiled Master and he took off his headphones, leaving them around his neck, ,,was it too scary?"

Pet knew she shouldn't lie, but Master probably wanted to hear that the ride was alright, even though her heart was still racing from anxiety. She gulped and decided to risk it. She nodded shakily.

Master laughed and scratched her neck, smiling. ,,Well, you still did a great job, little one," he praised her and Pet purred softly. ,,Now, let's go."

Pet followed him, wondering what he wants to do and where are they going. Master stepped into some shop, holding the door for Pet to come in too, and she quickly slipped in. It smelled like leather, hay and dog food in here. There were cages and dog beds of all sizes, leashes hanging on the wall, bags of feed for all sorts of animals, regals with toys… Pet chirped in surprise and Master softly chuckled.

,,That's right, buddy."

He allowed her to shyly scurry over to the toy aisle. Pet carefully sniffed over the regals, looking in awe at all those chewing toys, squeaky ones, plushies and many more. Master couldn't help but chuckle a bit. She looked like a four-year-old in a toy shop.

,,You can pick whatever you want," he told her softly. ,,And how many you want. Well, I mean, don't make me buy this whole aisle for you, but, you know."

Pet looked at him with genuine tears in her eyes, wide and surprised and so full of gratitude. She quietly whined and softly nudged his leg with her muzzle, purring. He chuckled.

Pet wandered along the aisle and looked at all these toys, still in awe that she can really pick anything. She seemed interested in the squeaky ones, until she found out that they're really loud. She jumped up in the air, startled at the noise, and hurried to hide behind Master's legs, watching the squeaky rubber chicken with bristled fur and raised feathers, and Javier could laugh his ass off and thank gods he got it on a video.

It seemed that she really liked the plushies. One, a blue rabbit with soft plushy fur and a button nose, apparently really caught her eye, and Javier was prepared to buy it although it was a bit pricey, but then she noticed a box next to the aisle and went to look at it curiously. Javier raised his eyebrows and followed her.

The box had a sign on it that said "used toys - $1 each". It contained one broken squeaky duck, a ripped chewing toy, two old chewed up tennis balls and one smudgy, battered-looking plushie. It was supposed to be a sheep, Javier guessed, light blue and white, with a pink bow around its neck. One eye was missing and a piece of stuffing was showing through a tear in its stomach. Pet softly sniffed it, nudging it with its muzzle. Javier raised his eyebrows.

,,You sure?" he asked. ,,It's not in the best state, I would say. Don't you want a new, good one instead?"

Pet looked at him, nervously wrapping her tail around her legs, and then she forced herself to say the thought that popped in her head.

,,W- Well… N- Neither was- was I, am I r- right, M- Master? And- And you still… still kept m-me… right?"

Javier slowly breathed in through his nose and leaned back, smiling slowly.

,,That's true, little one," he nodded and ruffled her fur. ,,You're absolutely, absolutely right." Pet watched him anxiously.

,,So, this one?"

Pet beamed when he reached into the box and pulled the sheep out. She wagged her tail and tried to lick his hand in excitement. Thank you, thank you, thank you, she wanted to scream, but her throat was too tight. But Master figured out what she was trying to say and chuckled.

,,You're welcome, little one."

Pet softly took the toy and happily chirped, her tail wagging like crazy. Javier couldn't help but grin.

,,Now, to the collars," he ordered and brushed her back. ,,You gotta get a new one."

Pet trotted at his heels, her eyes fixed at the toy Javier tossed in the bag.

Javier stopped by the aisle, looking at all the different kinds of collars. The black, leather ones caught his eye. They looked nice and simple, sturdy, but not too heavy. He picked out one, with a silver tag attached to it, and looked at Pet. ,,What do you think, little one?” he asked.

Pet tilted her head and gave him a nod, wagging her tail. He grinned and ruffled her fur.

,,Good girl. Let´s get the tag and then we can go and pick some treats for you as well.”

He walked over to the machine to get the name imprinted on the tag and then he stopped awkwardly, remembering he still haven´t given Pet a name. He ran a hand through his hair. Fuck. He turned around at Pet, chuckling slightly.

,,Yeah, um… Any name suggestions?”

Pet softly nudged his hand. That probably meant that he was supposed to pick it out himself. Fuck, he sighed in his head again and took out his phone, ready to scroll through a damn name generator or something like that, when he noticed he had a message from Tee. He opened it.

Hey, have u named the wolf yet? I have a few suggestions, if you wont mind.

Dude, you´re an angel. I´m currently in the pet shop trying to figure out what to put on the nametag.

yeah, that sounds like u, idiot. anyways, here are a few cool names.

Javier sighed in relief when he saw the huge paragraph of names that Tee sent him. They were mostly something space-related, but also a few ones in Latin and some inspired by Greek, Norse, Roman and Egyptian mythology. He crouched next to Pet, scratching her neck with one hand, and scrolled through the suggestions.

He seriously considered naming her Fenrir, but it didn´t fit right, considering that Pet was the least intimidating winged wolf you´d ever meet. Most of the names were names of the stars, and he really liked those. He softly muttered the best ones under his breath to try them out.

,,Rhea… That sounds good… Polaris? Nah… Stella? Do you look like some basic ass white girl? Pfft… Oh, Sirius could do… Or maybe Altair? Altair…” He looked at Pet and scratched under her chin, watching her slightly close her eyes and tilt her head. ,,Altair… I like that one. What do you think, little one? Could you be Altair?”

Pet softly chirped, purring slightly, holding her new plushie with one paw protectively. Her ears flicked. She looked nervous, yes, but happiness was more visible. Altair. Yeah. That suited her.

,,Well, I hope people won´t think I named you after that dude from Assasin´s Creed,” Javier joked and got up, stretching his legs. ,,Let´s get the name tag printed.”

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onlysarah235678 · 4 years

Text

A Little Bit Part 9

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Finally dinner time, I’m starving! Just FYI, the next chapters will definitely take longer. Classes start tomorrow! As always thank you for reading, and thank you to illuminated-blue for her beautiful gifs. Enjoy!

Warnings: abundance of domestic fluff, brief mention of death, jealousy if you squint, and vague mention of domestic violence (only one sentence).

You and Milo arrive at Billie’s a little before 8pm. You took him shopping with you because you didn’t want to waste time going back and forth. He just slept in the back seat while you practically ran up and down the aisles to get back to him. Of course, in your hurry, you forget something and have to run back inside. Milo didn’t seem to notice because he was still exhausted from the exciting day and his pain meds.

You lead Milo out of the car and to the front door, grocery bags on one arm, Milo’s leash wrapped around the other. You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell and taking a small step back. You look down at your clothes that you’d grabbed after your shower and you were regretting your choice. You were going to be sweating by the time you finished making dinner.

You hear the faint sound of heels tapping against the hardwoods a few seconds later. You smile at the idea of seeing Billie after so long. Well at least it felt like a long time. Milo looks up too with his tail wagging as he prepares to explore a new place.

When Billie opens the door, she smiles at the sight of you and Milo looking cute as always. You’re fully loaded up with grocery bags, your dog, and flowers that you’re already handing to Billie with a shy smile. She smiles wider as she takes them from you with an appreciative smile, smelling them as she moves out of the way so you can step inside.

“For you. I know it’s kind of cheesy, and not as cool as what you gave me, but I saw them and thought of you.”

Billie’s appreciation just grows at your explanation of the roses that you’d brought her. As you walk through the front door, Billie tries to take some bags from you, but you hold them away from her with a smile. You just take off your shoes and Milo’s leash before telling him to stay as you move some things to your free hand. You follow Billie through the house into the kitchen where you place all of the bags on the counter. You watch as Billie moves to find something to put the flowers in.

“You’re too sweet. I love them.”

You smile as you look behind you for Milo. You realize that you told him to stay and you call for him before turning back to Billie. You take a closer look at the medium as she’s pulling out a vase from one of the cabinets.

She’s wearing a white lace dress with her signature pearls, and upon closer look you realize that her dress is covered in flowers.

“How do you always look so good?”

Billie’s response is to chuckle before she walks back over to you. She puts the vase and flowers down carefully before taking a good look at you. It makes you want to squirm, but you resist somehow before she’s meeting your gaze again with a smirk. You always look cute, but tonight she finds you irresistible. She says this to you, but before you can respond or rather argue, she’s leaning in to silence you with a kiss. You can’t find it in you to really care and you kiss back. When you break away, you’re smiling as you look around the kitchen while Billie puts the roses in the vase.

The kitchen is nice. You saw it the last time you were here, but you don’t remember it very well. You hadn’t exactly been paying attention to interior design the last time you were here. You quickly steer clear of those thoughts and hurry to turn back to Billie as you take off your coat and get to work on cooking.

“How was your day? Did you finish recording?”

Billie nodded as she finished up with the flowers before heading toward the fridge for drinks. She watched as Milo wandered around the living room nose to the ground as he went. She placed a bottle of wine she’d picked up for tonight on the counter near you before responding.

“We’re all done. The only thing left now is promotional interviews. Wine?”

You consider what Billie’s saying before you nod in agreement. You’re much more relaxed than the last time you were here, but you wouldn’t mind a little alcohol. You thank her as she pours you a glass before handing it to you.

“That’s great news. Congratulations.”

You keep an eye on Milo as you get everything together to start cooking. You practically ordered Billie to sit down and smiled when she just rolled her eyes and muttered a ‘yes ma’am’ under her breath. You could get used to bossing Billie Dean around, but you don’t dwell on that dangerous thought before you start chopping up the ingredients.

The way Billie’s kitchen was set up, you could stand by the stove and cook and be able to look up and see the blonde watching you. It made you feel nervous, but you focused on your conversation and the food. You’d made this dish dozens of times before.

“How are the kittens doing?”

You had to ask because well it was your job and two, you were surprised to not see at least Bit yet. A brief look to Milo reminded you that maybe she was staying away for a reason. You look back to Billie just in time to see her smiling as she thinks about how her gang of kittens is growing.

She still hasn’t named any of the others, and she probably wouldn’t at this point. She didn’t want to get any more attached to them than she already was because she couldn’t keep them all. She mostly just called them little one and mister (for the couple she decided were boys). She tells you this and you laugh before shaking your head.

“You have at least two boys, including Mickey.”

You say this with a shrug because you really can’t tell yet. Everything is so small it’s just guesswork. Billie knows this, but she also likes guessing with you based on what you’ve both observed. They were all developing their own personalities and it was adorable to watch them all interact. Bit mostly just supervised and she was spending more time away from the kittens now that they were on solid food and formula.

Billie briefly tells you about how that’s going before Milo walks into the kitchen to stand next to you. You don’t notice him immediately and you nearly trip on him when you move to grab your drink. He isn’t allowed to stand in the kitchen at home, but he often breaks that rule. You try to enforce that now see if you have any luck.

“Milo, no. Go sit over there.”

You point toward the edge of the kitchen, close to where Billie’s sitting and Milo just looks at you with his big eyes and whines. You stare at him and he stares back before you sigh in defeat. If you had been looking, you would have noticed Billie smirk at the fact that you were such a softy for your dog. You decide to try one more time and luckily Milo listens.

“Milo, go say hi to Billie. Say thank you for letting you visit.”

Milo finally retreats with a wag of his tail to go greet the medium. Billie just smiles as she holds out her hand for him to sniff before she pets him. He starts to pant after Billie begins scratching his ears and you laugh before speaking up.

“Thank you by the way. For letting me bring him.”

Billie just smiles before looking down to Milo’s tongue sticking out of his mouth as he pants happily. “It’s no problem at all. He’s sweet.”

You smile at this not having to agree with her before you finish up chopping the onions.

“So... a fence? Has he done anything like this before?”

Billie’s question makes you groan before you admit that Milo has always been a little over enthusiastic at times. He forgets commonsense in the face of his favorite toys, specifically frisbees and any type of ball. A couple times when he was younger, he had run into multiple trees trying to chase down an errant tennis ball.

“It’s not his fault. He’s just so…”

“Eager?”

You nod before looking back over to Milo who was now lying at Billie’s feet. You smile before you reach out for the next thing to cut. You don’t notice Billie frown as she sees the long scratch on the back of your hand.

“How’d that happen?”

You look up to see what Billie’s talking about, and you follow her gaze to your hand. You laugh slightly before you mention the cat and by association, the owner that you saw today.

“Oh, it was that cat I told you about. His owner’s the one who was bothering me.”

Billie’s frown deepens at this and she raises an eyebrow in question as she recalls what you’d told her this afternoon.

“The one you called a bitch? I thought you said it was fine?”

You pause, your silence deafening before you eventually try and shrug it off. You hadn’t counted on explaining the Claire situation to Billie Dean. You honestly had hoped that she wouldn’t ask about it because you didn’t want to explain why you couldn’t get someone who was barely drinking age to leave you alone.

“It was fine after she left, yeah.”

You sigh at your stupid answer before looking to Billie to see if maybe, just maybe it worked. The way that she’s eying you makes you realize that no, it did not work.

“What is it about her that bothers you?”

You sigh again before you look away from her briefly to try and locate a pan to start cooking in. You don’t want to just start opening things randomly so you ask, hoping to change the subject.

“She’s just very…suggestive. Where are your pans?”

Billie looks at you for a second before she gestures to the cupboards behind you. You find one and then a spatula with her instruction before you hurry to keep yourself busy. You don’t see Billie try to put together your meaning as you remind yourself of the recipe you knew by heart.

“Suggesting what, exactly?”

You try not to curse yourself, or look like you’re cursing yourself as you look back to Billie who’s watching you intently. She has a cigarette in her hand which she got from somewhere, but it’s not lit yet. She’s just holding it between her fingers, twirling it as she waits for your answer.

“Y/N?”

Whoops. You’d been staring longer than you thought when you manage to break your gaze away and back to Billie’s face. You don’t notice the slight worry in her eyes as you shrug again, but give a more acceptable answer this time.

“She just flirts with me all of the time, but I tell her no because well I don’t like her, she’s too young for me and well. You know…”

You trail off as you look Billie up and down again as if to make a point. Billie doesn’t say anything immediately. She just sighs as she puts down the cigarette that she was never going to light. She reached for it before remembering that Milo was here. She didn’t know if you’d want him around the smoke.

Finally, Billie nods before mentioning what she’d planned on waiting to discuss until at least dinner.

“Well, I guess that’s a good segue way to what I wanted to talk about tonight.”

You can’t help but stiffen at the way Billie says this. It doesn’t sound like good news. It sounds serious and you don’t like that. Billie must notice because she moves to stand up and walk over to where you’re becoming increasingly more anxious.

“Don’t worry, dear. It’s nothing bad. I was going to wait until dinner to mention it.”

You nod before mentioning that it will be done in about 15 minutes. You move to go grab ingredients for the next part, but Billie stops you. She’s holding your hand, and you instinctually squeeze hers before looking to her nervously.

“Y/N, it’s really not bad news. I just wanted to talk about an interview I have next week.”

You just nod as you think about what this means. You find your thoughts interrupted again when you feel Billie’s lips on your cheek.

“Trust me.”

It’s not a question but you nod because you do trust Billie. You trust her a lot and you allow your faith in this trust and her reassuring smile to calm you down.

“Of course.”

Billie smiles before kissing you one more time, this time at the corner of your mouth. She sees your cheeks darken and smirks at her success before she moves closer to you.

“So, how can I help?”

Bit doesn’t show up until you and Billie are sitting down to eat. You nearly trip on her before you see her tail disappear under the table. You look around for Milo who of course is sniffing around for her, but you stop him.

“Milo, wait! Don’t eat Bit, please.”

Billie turns when you say this and watches as you hold Milo back. She looks around for Bit before grabbing the cat from underneath the table. She protests of course with a loud meow that catches Milo’s attention. His head tilts to the side as he looks at the cat. You hold him back but let him sniff Bit from a distance. She hisses and Billie lowers her to the floor and watches as she runs away. You loosen your hold on Milo and he just turns his attention to your food instead.

He’s’ clearly more interested in your food, so you just tell him to sit in the other room when you and Billie sit down again.

“That could have gone worse.”

Billie just laughs as she nods in agreement. She’s honestly surprised that Milo didn’t really pay much attention to Bit. She would have thought that he’d try and chase after her, but then again if he goes to work with you every day he must be used to seeing cats. She asks this and watches as you go to nod but then change your mind last minute.

“Ah, I mean it depends. He’s very food motivated, but he also likes chasing rabbits. I don’t know if cats are the same, but as long as we have food to keep him here it should be fine.”

You both look to Milo who is just staring at the two of you, or rather your food. You just roll your eyes before shrugging and hopefully doing a better job of reassuring Billie.

“He’ll be fine. I promise.”

It’s almost half an hour before Billie brings up the interview again. She’s enjoying your company and doesn’t want to make you worried or ruin the mood by getting too serious. You had just been telling her about your high school graduation party, after a lot of coaxing, and she could tell you were still a little embarrassed. She didn’t want to make that worse.

“Is something wrong?”

Billie looks up in surprise at your question and then at the fact that you ‘re shooting her a worried look. She must not have been hiding her feelings as well as she’d hoped to. Billie just shakes her head before she smiles at you. You finish up your food as you watch her carefully, hoping that she’s not about to lie to you.

“Nothing’s wrong. I was just going to ask you something.”

You do your best to not show how tense you immediately become and just smile before nodding in response.

“Okay, what’s your question?”

Billie takes a second to look around the room before answering. Milo is sleeping and Bit has not come downstairs since her brief forced meeting with the dog. She sighs before looking back to where you’re waiting for her to ask whatever is on her mind. Billie tells you about the interview she has next week and how she’s kind of looking forward to it. She’s worked hard on this season and wanted to do it justice by making sure the word got out. Eventually she mentions what she expects to be asked.

“Since it is very likely that they will ask me about us, I wanted to ask you what I should say.”

You frown slightly as you consider this. You’d only been thinking about where this relationship was going and how long it would be just between the two of you since you met the medium. However, now you weren’t sure what to say. You wanted to say that you’d love for people to know. Well maybe not because with this came a lot more harassment, at least you assumed so. You really just meant that you’d love for people to know that you were lucky enough to be with Billie Dean Howard.

Sometimes you still wondered how this even happened to you.

You don’t realize how long you stay silent until you hear Billie sigh. You look just in time to see her frown disappear before you open your mouth to say something, anything that won’t make her think that you’re not ready for this. You are and you plan on telling her that, but Billie beats you to it.

“I don’t mean to put this all on you. I just wanted to make sure that you were, um sure about well--.”

Billie trails off as she becomes uncharacteristically flustered. She’s beginning to think that she’s jumped the gun and made you uncomfortable by bringing up the nature of your relationship too soon. Hell, it had only been a few weeks since she met you. Even though it felt like longer, Billie knew that it had been a very short time to have such a discussion. If she weren’t in the public eye, she doubted that they’d talk about this any time soon.

You came to Billie’s rescue after watching her second guess herself. You smiled and couldn’t help but feel a little surprised by the fact that Billie was stumbling over her words. Normally calm and collected Billie was worried.

“It’s okay. I know what you mean, and I’m sure if you are. I don’t mind people knowing how lucky I am.”

Billie nearly rolls her eyes at this but something catches her attention. She listens for a second before she’s leaning back in her chair and waiting for Bit to appear.

“You’re such a charmer, Y/N. I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one.”

You smile widely but you’re prepared to argue when you hear a soft thud behind you. You miss Billie standing up as you turn to see that Bit is leaving a kitten that she’d just placed behind you. You frown as you watch Mickey squirm and react to his rude awakening.

“Bit, you little…”

You turn back to see that Billie’s already walking past you to retrieve the kitten. You’re about to stand up when you spot Milo out of the corner of your eye. He’s yawning cavernously before he sniffs the air around him. He looks up and sees Mickey lying in the middle of the floor in front of him and he’s already on his feet to investigate. He doesn’t make it before Billie swoops in and picks him up to check on him.

“Milo, sit down.”

Milo doesn’t listen immediately; he’s standing at Billie’s feet staring at the kitten in her hands. You reach out to get his attention and he turns as you scratch his head before sitting down. His tail is wagging but you don’t pay him any mind as you get to your feet to sneak a peek at the kitten.

“How is he?”

Billie just sighs before shrugging as she mentions how not much has changed since you saw him yesterday. He still hated his medicine, but luckily he took it without much struggle. He was spending more time away from his siblings when possible and he actually didn’t even sleep with them last night. You frown in confusion but don’t get a chance to ask before Billie explains with a slightly guilty expression.

“Well, I was worried about him being squished, so I let him sleep with me.”

You try to imagine how this worked without Mickey being in danger, but you weren’t as subtle as you thought and Billie just laughed.

“I had him wrapped up in his own bed on the ground. I didn’t want to risk him falling.”

You nod in approval as you think about this, and then you smile at the sight of Mickey on his back with his little legs outstretched. He looked completely at home in Billie’s arms and you loved it.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t get over how cute he is.”

Billie smiles as she watches you fawn over Mickey before turning to Milo. He was still focused on Mickey from where he sits beside you. You eventually notice where Billie is looking and you turn to Milo too before speaking up.

“Oh, Milo. Right. I can make him leave, if you’re worried he’ll-.”

Billie cuts you off with a shake of her head as she smiles before turning a little so Milo can get a good look at Mickey who is still sleeping. He perks up a little and his tail starts wagging faster as he stands up and moves forward to sniff the kitten. You grab his harness in case you need to pull him away quickly, but he just whines as he tries to get closer to Mickey.

“Milo, no, wait.”

You’re relieved when he sits back down and just shifts impatiently while Billie shifts Mickey so he’s in her hands. She holds him in front of Milo and you’re not super stressed at all as your dog leans forward to inspect the still-unaware Mickey.

When Milo just licks him once before turning to you to be let go you nearly sigh in relief. You loosen your grip on him to see what he plans to do, but Milo just turns away and heads to the table that you’ve abandoned in search of food. You hurry to grab him and steer him away from the table as Billie laughs at your dog’s lack of interest in Mickey. She decides that she needs to run him upstairs and put him back to bed. It’s getting late after all.

“I’m going to take him back upstairs, don’t touch anything. I’m cleaning.”

You stop short of picking up your plate as Billie says this and you turn to see her shooting you a serious look. You can’t help but argue, your damn need to clean up after yourself temporarily overriding your desire to just listen to whatever Billie tells you to do. You watch her start up the stairs before you manage to speak.

“But, I—you cooked I don’t mind! I like cleaning!”

This is kind of a lie, but it doesn’t matter anyway because when Billie turns around on the stairs and shoots you a look you give up. You just nod before deciding that you’re not going to risk disobeying. Milo paws at you and you realize that you have something else to do anyway.

“Don’t touch, I’m serious, Y/N.”

“Okay, I’ll just go…walk Milo really quick.”

You see Billie smile before she disappears and you just turn to Milo before heading toward the front door.

“Come on Milo. Walk.”

Of course he jumps up and runs to the door to grab his leash. You slip on your shoes before reaching for the doorknob. You pause as you think about the likelihood that you’d been followed here. You ignore Milo’s whines as you decide that it doesn’t matter. You’re serious about not feeling the need to hide anymore. Still you take a deep breath before you open the door and let Milo go out first. You look around quickly before just following Milo wherever he wants to go.

Billie Dean sighed as she watched Mickey get situated next to his siblings and Bit. Bit was grooming herself and not paying her any mind as she tried to figure out what to do next. She usually shut them in here for the night, but she didn’t want to do that yet, She hadn’t even medicated Mickey yet which of course she had remembered after getting him settled. She decided to go ahead and do that now since it was almost late enough.

It was nearing 11pm and although she knew that you had work tomorrow, she was trying to figure out how to drag this evening out. Billie had been thinking about how tonight would end ever since you agreed to come over. Honestly she’d been thinking about it for much longer than that, but she would never admit it. She didn’t want to rush you, but she definitely was ready to take the next step with you. Whatever that was.

Billie goes back downstairs and heads for the refrigerator to grab Mickey’s meds. Once she has them, she heads back upstairs and sneaks into the laundry room. She picks Mickey up again smiling sympathetically as he mewls at being disturbed before giving him his medication slowly. His face scrunches up and he makes a noise that is somewhere between a hiss and a whine and Billie’s heart melts. She kisses his head before putting him back with the other kittens. She is grateful that she only has to give this to him a few more times.

When Billie gets back downstairs, she grabs some of the dishes on the table and brings them to the kitchen. She is glad that you insisted on cleaning as you both cooked because now there were only a few things to clean up. Billie is still washing dishes when you and Milo come back. She doesn’t hear the door shut and she’s humming under her breath when you sneak up on her.

“Hey, did you know that--.”

You trail off when you see Billie jump and drop a fork in the sink. You open your mouth to apologize, but the medium is spinning around to shoot you a bewildered look.

“Y/N! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

You raise your hands in surrender before attempting an apology. You smile slightly as you watch Billie shut off the faucet without looking away from you.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to sneak. I thought you heard me.”

It took Billie a few seconds to calm her racing heart, but once she saw your smile and flushed face her fear melts away. She sighed before she reached into the sink to grab the fork she dropped. She places it in the dishwasher before closing it and turning back to face you.

“You’re lucky I didn’t stab you.”

You just laugh before you reach out for her with a questioning look. Billie just sighs again before letting you pull her into a hug. You’re cold to the touch from being outside, but she only holds you closer as she starts rubbing her hands up and down your arms to warm you up.

“You’re so cold. How far did you go?”

You smile as you pull away slightly to look around for your dog. He’s sitting on the carpet again in the living room and you roll your eyes as you mention your little adventure around Billie’s neighborhood. She listens as you tell her about walking down toward the end of the street and then being dragged toward one of the biggest houses you’d ever seen. There had been a party going on apparently and the smell of food was all Milo needed to decide he wanted to go that way.

“I had to drag him back here, so now he’s mad at me.”

Billie laughs at this before she pulls you back towards her while you’re sneaking another peek at Milo who’s now licking his paws. You’re a little surprised and you let out a sound that makes Billie smirk as she shoots you a questioning look.

“You’re sure about this, Y/N? You’re okay with telling the greater LA area about us?”

You can’t help but laugh at this, not even thinking about how many people this includes as you nod in agreement. You don’t really care about any of that at the moment and Billie seems to realize this as you move your hands up to her shoulders. Since Billie’s taller than you, especially with her heels, you have to stand on your tiptoes to reach her lips. You feel Billie smile at this, but you ignore it as you hold on to her tighter.

Billie responds by digging her nails into your hips as she pushes you back against the counter. You groan and retaliate by tangling your hand in the medium’s hair and pulling. You can’t help but smile in victory as she hisses against your lips. However, Billie doesn’t let this bit of smugness slide, and she pushes her hips against yours as she kisses you harder.

You moan and roll your hips against Billie’s as her tongue slides against yours. She kisses you until you feel like your knees are going to buckle, but she pulls away before that can happen. That said, Billie’s mouth on your neck didn’t make you feel any more stable. You curse under your breath shivering as Billie’s nails scrape against your neck when she moves your hair. Now that it’s out of the way, Billie’s path down your neck was long and torturous. You didn’t realize that your grip on the medium’s hair had become painful until she hisses and bites down on your pulse point.

“I know you like my hair, but you’re going to pull it out if you’re not careful, dear.”

You let go of Billie’s hair like it burnt you before you apologize. You feel your face flush slightly at the fact that Billie of course knew you were obsessed with her hair. You weren’t exactly subtle, and her hair was just—you’d kill for it. You didn’t get far with your apology before Billie cut you off with a look that effectively shut you up.

“Oh god. I’m sorry, I was just--.”

“Y/N. You don’t have to apologize. I liked it, just maybe a little bit less.”

You blush harder before just nodding in agreement. You look back up to Billie to kiss her again, but you instead find yourself being lifted onto the counter. Your eyes widen as you look around for a split second to regain your bearings. You let out an impressed noise as you smile at Billie who is looking awfully smug. You choose not to comment on this for now and lean back in to meet her lips, but again you’re stopped. You barely hold back the annoyed whine when you see Billie moving away and turning to something else completely.

“What-?”

You turn to where Billie’s looking and immediately move to get off the counter. Milo’s moving towards you but he’s staring at Billie in a way that puts you on edge. It’s a little embarrassing and you don’t want to explain it, but you can’t just write this off. Can you? You sigh as you step around Billie to redirect Milo back to the living room. It’s not his fault that he’s so protective of you. He doesn’t know the difference between what your ex had done and what Billie just did.

“Hey, Milo. No, it’s fine. Go sit.”

You’re relieved that he listens to you and seems to relax as you scratch him behind his ears. He wags his tail before circling once and sitting back down on the rug. He’s still able to see you which makes you a little nervous, but you don’t get to say this before Billie speaks.

“Is everything okay?”

Now Billie’s never had a dog before, but she knows enough about their body language to realize what had just happened. She just wasn’t sure why. Milo hadn’t been anything but sweet and well-trained around her, but this was something completely different. This wasn’t something that just happened unprovoked.

Billie looks to you to see you smiling slightly, nervously. You don’t want to tell more than you have to at the moment. So you just nod and try not to blush too hard.

“Yeah, he’s fine. He just…didn’t know what we were doing.”

Billie watches you blush but doesn’t comment on it. She’s not sure she believes all of what you’re saying, but she doesn’t bring it up. She can tell how tense you already are, and she knows that she has nothing to do with it. She wants to continue what she’d just started, but she didn’t want to just pretend like this didn’t happen. She wanted you to make the choice.

“Well should we leave him be and take this somewhere else?”

You feel your heart start to race at the question and the possibilities. Of course. You want to say that, but you look back to Milo before trying not to sound too obvious.

“Is it okay for Milo to stay here? Any chocolate or onions lying around?”

Billie laughs before she shakes her head and takes a quick look around the room. She doesn’t spot anything that sticks out. She doesn’t have a lot of clutter around her house because she’s not really around long enough to accumulate it. She decides that things are safe enough down here, and the cats will be fine upstairs.

“Nothing of the sort. He should be fine.”

You nod before you reach out to grab Billie’s offered hand with a smile. You say goodbye to Milo watching as he just wags his tail before you follow Billie upstairs. You can already feel your heart rate begin to pick up again as you reach the top. You thought you hid your nerves well, but you should have known better. After all, Billie was very good at picking up on different energies. This thought reminds you of something you’d been meaning to ask her since it occurred to you during dinner.

“Billie?”

You say her name as you follow her into her bedroom. It’s dark so you can’t really see anything but a bed in the middle. The room is illuminated when a lamp is switched on and you take a moment to glance around. It’s as tidy as you thought it would be and just from standing in it for five seconds you can tell it’s distinctly Billie. The way the room is decorated and the faint but familiar perfume lingering in the air has you smiling. You don’t realize you’re being watched until you hear Billie laugh.

“See something you like?”

You nearly laugh at this but instead just walk towards the blonde who’s already sitting on the bed. You shrug as you sit down next to her with a grin.

“Nothing more than you, Billie Dean.”

This makes Billie smile and you turn to her so when she reaches out for you, you’re already moving towards her. Your lips meet again and you quickly pick up where you left off downstairs. Your fingers are tangled in Billie’s hair and you gently tug her forward so you can feel her against you again. You groan as Billie practically pulls you into her lap before her hands fall to your hips. It isn’t until you feel Billie’s hands move between the two of you and to your shirt that you pull away.

“Billie?”

You watch anxiously as Billie’s hands stop moving and she shoots you a concerned look. You’re tense again and she’s not sure what to make of it. She has her suspicions but she doesn’t say any of them as she waits for you to talk to her.

“Yes?”

You shift slightly but don’t dare move as you sigh before looking to Billie with a frown.

“I have a potentially mood-killing question.”

Billie had been expecting you to ask something related to what you were doing. She knows you mentioned having an ex, but she didn’t know how far you may or may not have gotten with her. This is the last thing on Billie’s mind when you finally gather the courage to ask your question.

“Is he here?”

Billie frowns in confusion and her mouth is already opening to ask ‘who’ when it dawns on her. She feels you tense even more as you look around the room quickly. She sighs before she shakes her head. She’s telling the truth because she knew that the moment you got here that it was just you and Milo. She says this to you and expects you to visibly relax, but you don’t. You sigh before shaking your head at the nerve-wracking thought that keeps plaguing you.

Billie nods again before her hand comes up to your cheek. You sigh as you lean into her touch before frowning again.

“No, Y/N. He’s not. He hasn’t been all night.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sorry I had to ask. I’m just—still having trouble understanding this.”

Billie can only nod because she’s not sure how you’re dealing with what she’d told you. You hadn’t mentioned it since that first time and she didn’t want to push you. So the subject of your father had been tabled for now. Billie watches as you fail to come up with something to say.

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/N. This isn’t something that makes a lot of sense.”

You nod in agreement before doing your best to calm down. You focus on Billie’s touch again and move as close to her as possible. Her hand drops to your waist as you pull her into a hug. She frowns as she struggles to form a response. She doesn’t make it before you pull away with a smile.

“Thank you for understanding.”

You lean in and kiss her in thanks, but you get a little carried away. You’re very conscious of the fact that you’re surrounded by Billie, her touch, taste, her smell, and you can’t help but want more. You’ve only been waiting to have Billie Dean like this since your little encounter at work.

Just the thought of it makes you feel hotter and you shift impatiently on top of Billie. She can tell you’re getting worked up again and pulls away before things can go too far. She waits until she has your attention before asking.

“Are you sure you want to do this tonight, Y/N? We don’t have to.”

Your frown disappears and you sigh before nodding in answer. You’re very sure that you don’t want to wait anymore. You know that she doesn’t want to either, but she’s also more aware of your other emotions. You don’t want to think about those right now. You have the answer you needed to be comfortable enough to do this tonight, and you really, really want to do this tonight. Billie being so sweet and listening to you worry just makes the idea of waiting harder.

You nod again before kissing Billie once in thanks. You’re still so surprised by how Billie’s always so thoughtful and you appreciate that more than you can put into words. You just aren’t used to having someone take care of you like she does. You try to say this, but fall short as you squeeze her hand that’s still at your waist.

“Yes, I’m sure. You’re sweet, but I’ve been thinking about this too long to wait, Billie.”

Your smile turns into a smirk as you see Billie’s eyes widen slightly at your words. You hold back a laugh as the medium just nods before leaning in to kiss you once, twice.

“You’ll tell me if you change your mind?”

You just nod before meeting her lips again in an insistent kiss to tell her that you’re certain this is what you want. You feel her hands tug at your shirt again and you groan as she shoots you a smile.

“Okay, well let’s get this off of you, sweetheart.”

Part 10

#american horror story #ahs fic #ahs #my fic #ahs murder house #ahs imagine #billie dean howard x reader #billie dean howard imagine #billie dean howard #a little bit

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please-buckme · 4 years

Text

The Assistant

Hayden Christensen x reader

Chapter 3

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It’d been three weeks since that night. At first there was tension between the two of you but that quickly went away, seeing as you had a job to do. But today you didn’t have to work for the first time in, what felt like, forever.

You hadn’t had a day off in so long that you felt out of place in normal street clothes, you even woke up at 4am to get ready to go to work.

Mr. Christensen came up to you the day before and told you not to bother coming in, telling you also that he needed a day to himself, “Okay?” Was all you could say before he resumed his trick to the elevators. Did he even remember that night? Of course, How could you forget almost making out with your assistant? Maybe you were just over thinking, you thought.

Being with him that night had changed the way you looked at him. Of course he was always handsome but now you see the hidden beauty and pain written all over his face. When you used to think he was just tired all the time, you’ve come to notice that yes, he is exhausted but not from lack of sleep. He showed himself in such a way to you that it made you wonder, how many people have seen that side of him? It made you smile thinking maybe you were the only one but you know that couldn’t be. Somebody had to have drunk nights with.

After blocking him from your mind for a bit you finished your coffee, threw on some tennis shoes and headed out the door with your roommate's dog, Franky. Franky’s a good boy, of course, and you love taking him to the park nearest you. You bring a whole backpack filled with toys, snacks and some water, depending on how long you decided you wanted to be there.

The park was packed. Going to the park on a Saturday may not have been a great idea but Franky was having a good time so you stayed. The other dogs ran around in circles closing in Franky as you entered the dog park section. You saw the other owners standing all in a group talking but you decided to stand by yourself.

It didn’t take long for Franky to tire of the other dogs. His way of telling you it’s time to go is pawing at the door in the gate. “Are you ready, sir?” You say to Franky but mostly to yourself. When you opened the gate Franky took off. “FRANKY!” You shouted. You repeated his name as you ran after him. For a split second Franky went out of sight but when you finally found him he was with a man. Trying to make yourself more presentable for the man you started to comb your flyaways with your fingers before approaching him.

“Sorry, thank you for catching him for me.” Embarrassment flushed your cheeks as your boss rose to his feet.

“You have a dog?” He sounded surprised.

“He’s my roommate’s. I don’t have time for a dog.” Your words came out harsher than intended but he ignored them and went back to petting Franky. “His name is Franky.” You say flatly.

While he swooned over Franky you directed your attention to his outfit. He had on cleats with high socks that ended just under his knee. The clothes he wore made him look like a professional soccer player. His name was printed on the back in big white letters ‘CHRISTENSEN’. He looked good, really good. He was sweaty and tan. The white outlines of the mostly black jersey really illuminated his skin making you almost drool just looking at him.

“What brings you here?” You ask.

“I’ve been a bit stressed lately, as you know. When I get stressed I come and kick out my frustration.” He’s still eye level with Franky as he talks to you.

“You play?”

“Haha. I used to play. I haven’t in a long time. I'm too busy nowadays. Do you play?” He looks up at you now. You shake your head as you laugh.

“How could I? If you’re busy I’m busy.” You hadn’t noticed how close the two of you had until He stood up smiling, something you so rarely get to see. As the awkward person you are, you once again won’t make eye contact. You try clearing your throat to relieve some tension before saying, “I- I should get going though, Mr. Christensen. I’ll see you in the morning.”

A growl admits from his chest startling you. “Seriously, please call me Hayden.” Hesitantly you looked up at him, he was smiling. “It’s just unnatural to hear ‘Mr. Christensen’ outside of work.” He says with a hint of laughter in his voice. His smile easily has become one of your favorite things. The way his full lips formed around is perfect teeth sent butterflies all throughout your body.

You’d gotten so lost in his smile that it seems your mouth couldn’t hold back words anymore, “Your smile beautiful.”

..Wait was that an actual sentence? You stutter trying to fix what you’d said when he grabbed your arm and gently squeezed, making you look up in shock. “You know..,” he trails off, “I think.. that I have a beautiful smile too.” Unable to control yourselves, you burst out laughing.

“Wow, conceded much?” Why couldn’t he be this way all the time? You thought and then you said, “Why can’t you be like this all the time?” He gradually stopped laughing but kept the smile as he looked you in the eyes.

“It’s hard for me to be this way.”

“Happy?” You blurted out again.

“Yeah, happy.” You can’t help but smile shyly. Do you make him happy? If you do he doesn’t show it very often.

Before you could think too far into it he slides his hand down your arm and grabs your hand, gently squeezing as he did with your arm and let it go. “Meet me at Louis’ bar tonight.” He says.

“Oh don’t know Mr.- I mean Hayden. Don’t you think that a little.. unethical?” As much as you’d love to meet him for drinks and actually get a kiss this time it just wasn’t right. You shouldn’t have to remind yourself so often that he’s your boss.

He backs away from you heading back to the field and starts to pick up the balls he brought, “If you do I’ll be there and if you don’t I’ll be there alone. That’ll be on you whether I drink alone or with a beautiful woman.” Your breath hitches in your throat. “So please show up so I don’t have to drink with a beautiful woman.” He smirks before laughing once again at himself. You just roll your eyes trying not to laugh.

“I’ll think about it.” You say before putting the leash on Franky and walking back the way you came. You couldn’t contain the smile he left on your face. That goofy smile last the whole way back to your apartment, too excited for tonight to even care.

Chapter 4

Taglist: @shads121 @haydens-moles @anakinswhore @anakin-obsessed @princessxkenobi @missgirlnoname

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#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagines #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen reader insert #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker reader insert #star wars

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spiltscribbles · 4 years

Note

Hey! I was bored today, and decided to load up Hamilton and thought about your fics. I read them all, they're so good. Any chance you'll bless the fandom with another Hamliza fic? You do such a good job modernizing their relationship. Please consider writing something new, I'll take a paragraph, hell a sentence! lol. Anyway, love your blog and it's always great to see a post from you!

~Notes: holy fuck baby!!! This is so fucking beautiful and kind and so sweet and I can’t even begin to deal😭😭 You are such a sugarplum fairy and I love u to bits!! And the idea that you like my version of them is so crazy!! Ur an angel! And I’m screaming! I just love Eliza so much😭😭 I hope that you like this even slightly!!!!💜💜😌

A Reblog Is Worth A Galaxy!

Occasionally— when Alexander is a bit tipsy and a bit lonely and feeling lightly poetic— he thinks of the cobble stoned pieces that patch together the mosaic of his life. He remembers his mother’s faint laughter, and he pictures Eliza’s iridescent grin on the day of their wedding. He alternates reminiscing on the different nights at hospital after the birth of each of his children, how he’d count their tiny fingers and smaller toes while Eliza was slumped besides him— flushed and radiant and so, so miraculous. Though the latter half of that image wasn’t there eleven months ago, when she had given birth to baby Will three weeks after the editorial had been published— finally tipping the precarious state of his world to ruin with a brimstone sort of finality. Three weeks after the affair was made public and the light in her eyes that she had always glimmered with whenever gazing at Alexander, was scuffed away permanently, under the heel of his carelessness and his cruelty and his childish cravings to feel needed by someone— by absolutely anyone.

And as he rocks in the ornate, elm carved chair that his in-laws had bought for Philip’s nursery over sixteen years ago now— with his youngest son in arms— Alexander thinks that it’s right— that it only makes sense that in the handful of memories that are the cornerstones of his existence, Eliza is in the vast majority of them. Eliza with her quiet but strong resilience. Eliza with her breathtaking, but unassuming beauty. Eliza in how she’s always been the beacon of light— a personified essence of hope— in the center of the tempest that is his life. A quiet haven that he’s always depended on like nothing else.

Eliza has always been, and will always be the most vital part of it all, the lifeline that pumps breath to his lungs and blood to his heart and makes Alexander feel like he’s finally standing on solid ground. But he doesn’t get to say that out loud anymore, shouldn’t even think it in the privacy of his own mind. Not after the shattered look in her eyes had been embedded permanently, not after the separation had been officialize, and especially not now, while he’s trying to recall that old, French lullaby that Eliza had always crooned to their children before bed while she’s graciously pretending he’s not here.

It had been a stipulation in the agreement that they scrounged up over half a year ago now. Alexander has been relegated to the loft they keep in Murray Hill while Eliza and the children remain residing in the estate right outside the city limits— The Grange. But because she’s always been touched by an otherworldly kindness that Alexander has never witnessed in another soul, Eliza told him that mornings before school and dinners before bed are open for him to visit while she finishes the work she has for the non prophet she had helped build. “You don’t get to lose your kids just because it didn’t work out with us Alex— They’re your family and I won’t be the one to take them away from you, not ever.”

When she had said as much, quiet and precise and void of the warm inflections he would always lose himself inside of whenever she spoke— Alexander wanted to absolutely ball. He wanted to fall to his knees right then and beg her not to say that— not to toy with the idea that it was really and truly over between them. He wanted to tell her that he loves her, and he loves her and he’ll always love her no matter what.

But for perhaps the first time in his life, Alex had held his tongue and only thanked her for always being the best of the lot. He was afraid if he spoke his true thoughts out loud he’d make that torn, desperately pained look melt back into her features like those first few weeks after the Twitter trends and media frenzy and poisonous gossip spreading through the circle of blue bloods that Eliza had been the heiress of since birth, and where Alexander had fought tooth and nail to belong. But besides that, he thinks he was mostly terrified that she wouldn’t betray any emotion at all— That she’d stay still and frozen and detached— forever out of his reach all over again.

Alexander’s heart twists up in an ugly, painful sort of way at the memory of that tragic brunch between them, and he physically shakes his head— as if the pictures of that afternoon could just fall out his ears and disappear into the powder blue curtains like dust.

Gingerly, Alexander kisses Will’s downy hair, and sets him into the crib with a final inhale to get him through the night before coming back tomorrow morning. And while he pads through the hall, he quietly peers into the bedroom of each of his kids. Listens to the hushed snoring from Jamie and Johnny’s room, before he looked into how Angie has swathed herself with pink blankets in her own, finally glancing into Philip and AJ’s at the end of the hall, bracing himself for how his eldest inevitably tosses him a cursory glance from over his shoulder while he taps away on his new laptop. Philip’s stopped the sneers and the clipped replies after Eliza had scolded him for as much right after the pamphlet’s release, but the ice like overture between them hadn’t lessened, and no matter how much it breaks his heart that his pride and joy doesn’t ever look at him like Alexander is his hero— like he had when he was younger— he’s strangely proud. He’s proud that Philip is steadfast in his loyalty to his mother and has a moral code that Eliza had nurtured in each of them.

“You almost done with that civics paper?” He tries for broke, talking in a hush like he was afraid to spook him.

Philip’s jerky nod is all Alexander gets before he snaps his gaze back to the screen, and he takes it like a sacrament, gently shutting the door once again and shuffling downstairs to the main level of the house.

It feels like his heart lodges somewhere deep in his throat when he enters the living room only to be taunted with the sight of Eliza curled into the side of the sofa, nightgown loose on her shoulders, and dark hair piled into a messy topknot while she nibbles on the end of a pen that she’s most likely using to mark up the novel in her hands. It’s the same volume of Arthurian legends that she’s been paging through for the past few days, and he knows it’s something to do with a child at one of the group homes she visits on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, the one who is enthralled by the folklore of it all.

And it’s like an ache— a gnawing and crippling sort of yearning that he feels as he watches the image of her that he’s seen a hundred times before, wanting to thumb at the ink smattering her cheek and lips and chin. And if this was a year ago he would’ve done just that— Hell, he would’ve kissed them away with tender lips as he gathered her small form into his arms and he would’ve waxed poetic about her and her mind and her body all night long.

Or maybe not.

Maybe he would’ve simply teased her before dropping a kiss to her forehead and retreating to his study to finish the latest bill that the president wants on the house floor before the next congressional recess. Maybe Alexander never really deserved her and it took this— them split apart and tattered— for him to realize all the things he should’ve done. All the exaltations he should’ve whispered against her skin and all the caresses he should’ve massaged against her bones and all the ways he should’ve worshipped her all along. And when Eliza looks up— a strand of hair falling prettily over a large eye and the moonlight dancing atop her with a graceful sort of panache— he feels a sick sort of despair that maybe he’ll never get that chance again. Maybe she’ll leave it to Andre now.

The thought of John Andre makes Alexander’s insides pulse with a sort of anger he doesn’t think he’ has ever known, makes his fucking arteries clog with distain. But he hasn’t said anything about him to Eliza, even though he knows that ever since her ex-boyfriend has moved back into town, he’s been pursuing her non-stop, was regaled about the flowers and the letters and the diamond tennis bracelet by a peculiarly snide, but disappointed Angelica, and he knows that his sister-in-law, between her own children and her own job as the secretary of sate, has been silently rooting for Alexander to get his shit together, to prove himself worthy enough for a second chance with the sister she loves with all her heart. And he thinks that it’s almost funny that one of the most brilliant minds he’s ever known, isn’t perceptive enough to understand that Alexander had never been worthy enough for a chance with Eliza in the first place. So it’s fucking impossible now, with everything that has past and all the ghosts between them.

“Oh,” Eliza says once she finds him just standing their, gazing down at her like some sort of pathetic drifter trying to find respite from a prophet. “Will fell asleep then?”

“Erm, yeah. Yeah he was good.” Alexander replies, tries not to sputter. “Only one who’s up is Pip.”

“Not for long,” Eliza mutters mischievously, tapping a finger against her nose with an endearing sort of diffidence. “I switched the coffee out for decaf before dinner. I reckon he’s got another forty-five minutes in him.”

Alexander can’t help the choked out laughter that spills from his lips, and can’t help relishing in the helium like levity streaming through his extremities— the heady feeling that only Eliza’s ever been able to evoke. “You’re wicked.”

“I’m a concerned mother, and our son is a bit of a spaz if you hadn’t noticed?” She retorts mildly, single brow cocked as she returns to her novel. And no— God no, Alexander can’t refrain from delving back into the easy, life affirming bliss it has always felt when they talked with one another— whether it’s platitudes or past traumas or anything in-between. So like a man about to plunge into the churning ocean waves— ready for death or the best thrill of his life— Alexander eases besides her, three feet apart but close enough to smell Eliza’s favorite jasmine shampoo wafting in the space between them.

“You enjoying the legends then?”

Eliza flickers her bright eyes back to him, uneasy and guarded. And it hurts like nothing else when he remembers how he was once able to read her open face like a favorite book that had been highlighted and underlined to hell. “Uh-huh, it’s an interesting set of stories. I think I understand why Dante enjoys them so much.”

“OH?”

“Mhmm. There’s this one myth, about one of Arthur’s knights, Sir Gawain, who was promised to this old crone and when he kisses her she becomes a fair maiden.”

Alexander isn’t sure what is going on here, knows that this is the most Eliza’s spoken to him outside the children’s schedules for months, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he nods along eagerly, silently pleading for her to continue on with the summary.

“Yes, well. After she transforms, she gives him a ultimatum of sorts. Tells him that either she can stay beautiful in the daylight while they’re apart, or only at night while they’re together.” She meets his gaze head on— steadiness boring into his uncertainty. And even though he still hasn’t a clue what’s happening, he feels it in his bones that this is so very important, so he doesn’t falter, breathes in deep and doesn’t let his glance stray to her lips or her collarbone or where her hands are clutching tightly to the volume now.

“And what did he choose?”

Eliza purses her lips, like she’s not sure to tell him anymore, but something in his expression must’ve convinced her, because she shrugs a slight shoulder while standing and slapping the book shut. “He doesn’t. Tells her it’s her choice and her’s alone.”

And oh.

It’s like a punch in the gut when Alexander finally comprehends.

“Good,” he says, voice gone a bit haggard. “He should just wait until she makes up her mind.”

Remarkably, that seems to have been the right thing to have said, because the ends of Eliza’s plump lips actually quirk up into an etherial grin that’s not so threadbare like all the ones he’s seen for far too long.

“Good night, Alexander.”

“Good night, Eliza,” he replies, feeling like sunlight is finally beginning to filter through the frost when her small hand dusts across his cheek for only a sparing moment. And while he watches her putter upstairs, Alexander knows with all his heart that he would wait for an eon just for Eliza to decide whether he’s worth letting back into her world.

~My FIC Index~

Is where you can read my other Hamliza works!!!

#HAMLIZA #HAMILTON #ALEXANDER HAMILTON #ELIZA SCHUYLER HAMILTON #ELIZA SCHUYLER #Spilt ink #sweetest missives #you're an angel babe and I really hope you like this

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peantutbutter · 4 years

Note

69. “We are not going to steal someone’s dog.” with Michael, Gavin and Jeremy please!

69. (nice) “We are not going to steal someone’s dog.”

Trigger Warning for brief mentions of animal abuse. Nothing is graphically explicit and everything turns out ok and the dog is rescued, but the thought of an injured animal is triggering or otherwise too emotionally distressing for you, go ahead and keep scrolling

The Mad Lad’s Animal Rescue Agency [ao3]

It’s odd.

As far as Michael knows, both Gavin and Jeremy are what he would consider cat people. Pets aren’t allowed in the penthouse, of course, but both get swept up in conversations about what they would name potential future cats, and both go out of their way to set out food and water for the strays of the city.

So when the two come to him cooing and gushing about a sweet looking pit bull they’ve met, Michael is a little astonished when they start telling him their plans for whisking her away in the dead of night.

“We’re not stealing someone’s dog,” he deadpans, and he can’t fucking believe that he has to say it.

“Awww, c’mon Michael, why not? Lookat her!” Gavin whines, shoving his phone in his face.

And, yeah, alright, she’s fucking cute — chocolate brown fur; a light pink tongue lolling out of her mouth; a tail that’s blurry because it’s wagging so fast; and large, shining brown eyes that are staring adoringly at Gavin in the selfie he’s taken — but Michael can’t just let his boys go off and steal a dog for no good reason. “Because it’ll shit all over the goddamn floor!” he argues. “Where are we gonna keep her, Gavin? We gonna make her ride an elevator every time she needs to take a piss?”

But the thing about Gavin is that once he gets something in his head, there’s really no stopping him. And with Jeremy involved, really, all Michael can do is hope to mitigate the inevitable collateral damage.

It’s ass o’clock in the morning when Michael pulls into what is possibly the most boring middle class neighborhood and parks across the street from a house that looks like the dozens of others surrounding it. He cuts the engine of their unmarked van and looks to Gavin and Jeremy making their last-minute preparations in the back. The entire vehicle smells like peanut butter and Gavin slaps Jeremy’s hand away from the bag of bacon he had fried up before leaving. “That’s not for you!” he hisses.

Jeremy pouts indignantly, but lets it be. They grab a pair of bolt cutters, while Gavin stuffs his pockets full of treats and clips various dog toys to his belt. A brightly colored rope dangles from his hips, and right beside it a squeaky chicken. He pauses for a minute, tennis ball in hand, and frowns thoughtfully, trying to figure out where to place it.

Ultimately, he sets it down, deciding that his skirt of toys is sufficient.

Jeremy pulls on a pair of gloves and grabs a leash dangling from a hook. They shoot Gavin an eager look, which he eagerly returns.

“You look like fucking idiots,” Michael says, because one: it’s true, and two: he apparently has a compulsive need to kill the mood if it’s stupid, like this one. Gavin and Jeremy just look at him, still smiling, mischief gleaming in their eyes. Michael rolls his eyes and waves his hand. “Go get the damn dog.”

The other two excitedly scramble out of the car and crouch-run their way across the street, like they’re on some sort of actual heist. Michael barely suppresses an eye roll. It’s not like the hazy moonlight or streetlamps are illuminating the street or anything. Idiots.

He watches them stealth their way to a chain-link fence. On the other side, Michael can make out what appears to be a ramshackle doghouse, and a tiny figure curled up just outside it. He can’t hear it, but he assumes Gavin whistles or does something to get the dog’s attention, because the figure’s head pops up and it pushes itself onto it’s legs.

Or at least it tries.

Jeremy is clipping away at the fence when Michael notices how the poor thing’s back paws are dragging uselessly along the ground. Her tail wags furiously as she crawls over to Gavin, but she isn’t moving very fast.

Oh. That’s why they’d been so adamant about doing this.

His knuckles turn white, and the steering wheel creaks under his grip. That familiar burn courses through his body, licking flames up and down his arms and legs. The vein in his jaw throbs, and he forces himself to take a deep breath. Going in and beating the owner senseless is tempting — “How does it feel, huh? How does it fucking feel? — but running in blindly, fists flying, would be reckless and stupid. And while he has his moments, tonight he’s the sensible one.

Or at least that’s what he tells himself. But when a light flicks on in the house while Jeremy is in the middle of unhooking the dog’s chain and latching their own, all of Michael’s self restraint leaves him. There’s a shadow moving throughout the house, and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He pulls the baseball bat from the passenger footwell and tears out of the van.

Gavin exclaims loudly as Michael rips past.

“Get the dog outta here, I’ll cover you!” Michael yells, and his lifetime of hopping fences pays off as he effortlessly scales the wire structure. His feet land on the ground with a soft thump and gets into position on the other side of the sliding glass door. He chokes up on the bat, ready to swing.

Jeremy finally manages to slip the hook of their leash through the loop on the dog’s collar just as the door slides open. The man inside is screaming angrily, but Michael doesn’t hear what he’s saying. He’s more focused on how he’s going to make this dickbag scream for another reason.

The guy steps outside, not seeing Michael where he hides just behind him, and he reaches for something tucked in his waistband. The second Michael realizes it’s a gun, he pounces, striking the guy in the back of the knees and bringing the bat down on the guy’s back with a satisfying crack.

He fucking whales on the guy, letting all that righteous anger course through him. Each strike shakes his bones, and he’s pleasantly reminded why this is his primary weapon of choice. There’s something so deliciously personal about taking a guy apart with a big stick. He keeps swinging until he’s sure Gavin and Jeremy have pulled the poor pup to safety. The bastard is curled into the fetal position, and his gun, which Michael had kicked away, lay just out of reach.

The horn of the van blares — one of his lads letting him know they’re clear — and Michael brings the bat down for a final strike. It makes a wet crunch against the back of the guy’s head. He’s not one hundred percent sure whether the guy is unconscious or actually dead. He doesn’t particularly care. He’s got no love for people who beat their animals, and, frankly, he’s killed for less.

His arms burn, and as he wipes blood from his face, he realizes that the lights in the surrounding houses are flicking on. The sound of an approaching siren kicks him into gear. He scrambles over the fence — a feat more difficult now that his limbs feel gooey with exertion — and books it across the street.

The engine revs as Jeremy puts the key in the ignition. Sirens are growing closer, and tired civilians are emerging from their homes to see what the fuss is about. The doors to the back are wide open, and Gavin, gently cradling the dog, yells at him to “Hurry up!”

Michael flings himself into the back of the van, and Jeremy takes off like a bullet, tires squealing against the asphalt, leaving behind the scent of burned rubber.

They fly out of the neighborhood, and Jeremy takes a few random turns, shaking any potential pursuers off their trail. All the while, Gavin is cooing at the creature in his arms. “Who’s a good girl? Who’s a good Bella?” he asks. “Who doesn’t have to worry about that mean old man ever again? Yes, it’s you!”

He pets Bella until she calms down, mindful of her legs, which rest gingerly on the seat. Slowly, her eyes drift shut, and she falls asleep under his touch. He smiles softly, and Michael can’t help but do the same at the scene before him.

Then Gavin turns to look at him. “Thank you, Michael,” he murmurs, barely audible over the hum of the engine.

Michael shrugs. “Don’t understand why you didn’t tell me why you wanted to steal this guy’s dog in the first place.”

“Ah, well…” Gavin pauses for a moment, trying to figure out what he wants to say. “Lil J and I kind of figured you riding out your rage would be the best cover in case we got caught. And that’s something that only really happens in the moment. So we needed you going in blind.”

Michael stares blankly for a moment, blinking slowly, trying to understand the reasoning. “You didn’t tell me,” he says slowly, “because you wanted me to be pissed off enough to attack a guy in case he caught you.”

Gavin presses his lips together and nods. “Yeah.”

Michael scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You two are fucking ridiculous,” he says. Then his gaze travels towards the peacefully sleeping dog. “What are you going to do with her?”

Gavin shrugs. “Gonna get our medic to take a look at her and see what he can do. After that…I dunno, try to find a nice place for her to live. Fredo’s been saying he wants a dog, so maybe he’ll be willing to take care of her.”

“So you never planned on her living in the penthouse, did you?” Michael asks.

“Of course not, Michael boy,” Gavin answers easily. His eyes sparkle with humor. “We’re not gonna make her ride the elevator every time she needs to take a leak.”

#somegrumpynerd #fake ah crew #fahc #rexie writes #SEE i didn't forget about the prompts in my inbox!!!!#i just saved them for when i need to write without thinking about making /good/ fic #to just turn my brain off and write something

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quaranteehee · 4 years

Text

“Leave Your Lover” - Kuroo Tetsuro x Fem!reader ANGST

Leave Your Lover - Sam Smith

Summary: You’ve always loved him, but he wouldn’t know... even as you bid your farewells on the hospital bed. Because he’s a dumb fuck.

“Y/n! Yo... YO Y/N!!”

“Testu shut up I’m trying to tell you something!!”

“Okay Okay but shut up first I’m trying to talk-“

“BOI IF YOU DONT-“

He shoves the palm of his hands against your mouth, muffling the rest of your sentence. With twinkling eyes he proceeds to state the reason behind his excitement, “Kazuko Tomomi said yes!”

You slap his hands away. “What do you mean?? Yes to what? That could be anything- yes to babying your sorry ass? Finishing your English homework?? What does Kazuko-“

“A date,” he smiles at you broadly as he takes his fingers across his hair in disbelief. “She finally said yes.” A hearty chuckle escapes his lips before he plops himself back down on the grassy slope sandwiching the river beneath the highway.

“Congrats, you two!”

Kuroo hummed in response, mindlessly toying with the pastures between his fingers.

“Anyway what did you want to tell me again?” He sheepishly inquires with a lazy smile

“Ah, that? Never mind it. I guess it was nothing after all.”

But it wasn’t nothing. And in that space in time, you began to wonder what it would cost if you continued to protect this lie.

- - -

“Testu! I won- I actually won!”

Without another word, he scoops you into a tight embrace. You oblige by wrapping your arms around his back.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, training camp took its toll on me and well. I passed out as soon as I got home.”

You let it slide, he had a good reason to. You pull away and smile at him excitedly. “Buy me ramen and we’ll call it even.”

“Ah I can’t after school. I’m having dinner with Tomomi.”

It was a tradition to go out after a game. You forced an understanding smile, “that’s fine, tomorrow maybe? Before the weekend?”

“Can’t either. I promised Tomomi we’d watch that movie she wanted,” he scratches the back of his neck, “damn she always gets me to watch those cheesy dramas.” Despite his complain, a smile is plastered on his lips.

Oh god.. that smile- that damn smile. The perfect world you shared with Kuroo was distinegrating and you knew it. You were fully aware and you hated it.

“A-Ah, is that so?” You shift your gaze towards the window.

“I’m sor-“

“Anyway, enjoy yourselves! Don’t worry about it though.” You say a little too cheerily. Slipping on the strips of your backpack, you pretend to check your phone. “Ah, shit, I need to get my notebook back from Watanabe. See you!” Without giving him a chance to reply, you head towards the end of the corridor and disappear into the corner. Kuroo leaves soon after. As the sound of his footsteps dies down, you slump against the wall while staring hopelessly at the ceiling above.

- - -

“Thought is find you here.”

“Yeah?”

“It was obvious,” Kenma says over his PSP

“Well.. I figured I’d put in extra effort, you know?” And with that, you deliver yet another aggressive serve. The tennis ball lands exactly on the white line before bouncing off to join the others.

Kenma quietly tucks away his device and observes your practise. Glancing at the opposite end of the court, he notices an unnaturally large amount of neon balls rolling around aimlessly- the product of your training. Reverting his attention back to the Female Tennis player, he sees things he wish he was only imagining: tired eyes, a sloppy form, and a limp in your strides.

“Y/n, how long have you been here?”

“I’ve always trained here Kenma.”

“What time.”

“After school.”

“School finishes at half past three... it took a fifteen minute train ride, so assuming at you got here at four... “

“What?”

“It’s nearly nine”

You stop in your tracks and note that the colour of the sky has changed drastically. You’ve been practising for so long that you didn’t notice that you had been relying on the lights of the tennis court. “Oh. I guess I have.”

Bam. The ball ricochets against your racket.

“Tell Kuroo how you feel,” The Pudding Head says, carefully wording his sentence.

“He’s in love with her, though.”

“Stupid, not like that,” he sighs, “I mean, he’d understand. He really would. If it means taking off the weight off your shoulders, why don’t you tell him directly.”

You pause, clenching your jaw discreetly.

Kenma continues, “you’ve known each other for so long... if you tell him, he would understand. You’re his (y/n) aren’t you? He’ll still want you by his side, (y/n)...”

You let out a pained scream, startling Kenma, as you mindlessly fling your racket at the fence. How could you be so selfish?

“No. No, this is bullshit. Because he gets the best of both worlds from Tomomi and I,” you hiccup. “I am SICK and TIRED, Kenma-“ you’re shaking in rage.

Kenma watches you bubbling in anger- no. Not anger, but an unspoken sadness that can be mistaken for fury. His expression is gentle as he slowly walks towards you in the middle of the tennis court.

“SICK and TIRED of giving him all that I am when I can’t even have half of him. And you know what’s messed up? I don’t have any right to feel this way because he’s not mine...” your heart sinks to your stomach, “he’s not mine.. he’s with HER,” you grit your teeth, “AND... a-and he doesn’t love me.”

“(Y/n)...”

You fall to the ground, bursting into a fit of tears as the cold realisation washes over you. “He doesn’t love me,” you repeat.

The exhaustion that you’ve ignored slowly creeps up on you, paralysing your limbs until your vision goes pitch black.

- - -

You open your eyes and a blurred figure catches your attention. Sitting up, you rub at your temples. “Testu-“

“- will be here in a few.” The figure says.

“Kenma?” You glance, startled. “It’s 10 in the morning get your bitchass to school.”

“For someone that completely blacked out you sure are energetic..” he mutters in annoyance. “It’s Saturday, Dumbass.”

Surveying your surroundings, you’re suddenly aware that you’re confined in a hospital room. You begin to ask Kenma questions. He beats you with his response before you could even utter a single word,

“You’ve overexhausted yourself. No, you won’t die. Yes, you’re being discharged tomorrow. No, not today because of reasons I don’t know.” He watches as you close your mouth, his explanation seemed to have answered whatever questions you had in mind. “Look, I mean, I know tennis is a big deal to you and all but it won’t kill you to rest up once in a while.” Behind him rests your beaten up Tennis Bag. You catch a glance at your racket, some shirts, a tube of Tennis balls... and the letter.

“That’s not why you’re here, is it?” You ask cautiously.

He gives you a smile, his eyes glinting in a knowing manner. “How did you know?”

“Please. One, nothing goes under your nose unnoticed; two, that letter was in the racket section of the bag, not there,” you point, “where my clothes are.”

There’s silence.

“Duke University, huh?” Kenma says with a smile.

You mirror his gesture with a similar grin. “They were the only ones that got back to me. And it’s easier to apply for financial aid supporting international students for Duke than, yknow, NYU.”

“America,” he muses, “Oceans and oceans away.”

You meet the boy’s curious gaze.

“Kenma-“

“You have to tell Testu.”

- - -

Kenma’s text was the first thing that caught Kuroo’s attention as soon as he wakes up that Saturday.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit.” He squeezes past the crowd of people and sprints all the way to the hospital, practically slamming himself against the reception desk.

“How may I help you?” The lady cheerily inquires without hiding the concern etched on her face for the wheezing rooster head.

“(L/n)... I... I-“ he wheezes, “what room..?”

- - -

“Go easy on her...” Kenma whispers briefly before making his way towards the door.

“Kenma? Where are you going??” You call out desperately.

“Bitch I wanna play my games now tf.”

You glare at him, “But-“

“It’s okay. I’ll be here, right Kenma?”

That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, Kenma thinks to himself. “Whatever. Don’t be stupid. Both of you,” he huffs before closing the door shut.

He places his hand atop yours before pacing his fingers around your delicate ones. You eye your hands pressed against each other’s for a second too long...

So. This is what it feels like to be yours.

You fight back the urge to cry. “Tetsuroo.. can I ask you a big favor?”

He quirks an eyebrow in response.

“Can you hold me? Like before?”

“Hm? In a headlock?” With that sadist response came a throw pillow flying towards his face.

“Like we were kids.”

He complies, getting up from the chair situated beside the hospital bed. You shuffle to make some room for the older boy who wasted no time in holding you in his arms. You cave right into his touch, facing him. He rests his chin on your head with your feet tangled.

“Is there anything else, your highness?”

You can feel his eyes roll. You chuckle, “yes actually: I want a triple tier chocolate cake. A pretty heart necklace, and a bouquet of-“

“Chill.”

You both laugh heartily. Amidst the silence that followed, you can feel his fingers rubbing soft circles in the small of your back.

“I want... I want you to stay with me for now. If you have to go, do it when I’m asleep,” you mutter loud enough to hear.

He nods as confusion washes over him. This all felt too familiar - sort of like de ja vu.

Like we were kids...

The sentence and the way you said it keeps replaying in his mind. He thinks of nothing but the familiar way he held you and vice versa when the nightmares struck. How you’d pull away only when the other was asleep. What struck him the most was why you felt the need to ask? To him, holding you felt like one of the most normal things in the world comparable to how natural it was for him to breathe. Nevertheless, Kuroo decided that it was a question for another time.

You begin to hum the tune to a song which Kuroo claims to know. Determined to pinpoint the song in particular, he rapidly lists titles of various compositions whose melodies were quite similar. You smile to yourself, he’s the biggest idiot ever.

It didn’t take long before you figured he was getting tired. With your fingertips, you traced gentle patterns into his forearms to help lull him to sleep.

“... pack up and leave everything; don’t you see what I can bring? Can’t keep this beating heart at bay...

His eyes dropped, and his breathing became steadier. Your voice was barely a whisper as you finished your song,

“Set my midnight sorrow free, I will give you all of me just-“ you choke back on your own tears, permitting yourself this last time to indulge in your own selfishness. “Just leave your lover... leave her for me.”

—————————————-

YALL THOUGHT YOU WAS GONNA DIE LMAOOOOO

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hideawayintheimaginationworld · 4 years

Note

Ok so in the story about Matt you said Lefty found Spring Jr is it ok if we get a short story about Lefty finding them and everyone reaction's to the bab

“You're a strange little creature...”

Lefty was trying to prompt a response from the little Bunny he found, the Bunny in a sense reminded him of SpringBonnie, but with more greenish fur and silver eyes, it also was the size of an infant.

It also was covered by blood and it smelt weird.

The smell reminded Lefty of a dead body.

Having a sensitive nose, he easily sniffed the odour and saw the little guy across the road, wandering without purpose, Lefty quickly realised it didn’t just look like a kid sized SpringBonnie.

It acted like one.

Not being aware of road surroundings.

Lefty had a sneaking suspicion it smelt like Fazbear Entertainment's brand of supernatural bullshit, and being a kid too, so he followed the kid, trying to lure it out of the street and into the house, worried a human would see it and immediately call the police, or worse the little one could get run over by a car.

He had to bribe in the end, retrieving a bag of Candy, he was thankful Halloween wasn’t so long ago, so he was able to get out the leftover sweets and used them to draw the kid inside.

Once inside, Lefty locked the door, trapping the kid, but he— well Lefty assumed it was a male, if it had a gender— didn’t seem too worried and actually looked at Lefty like he expected more food, probably haven’t eaten in while, so Lefty was happy to offer food.

He wouldn’t live with the smell however, Lefty didn’t realise how bad it was until later, when he felt queasy and realised he couldn’t focus on washing the dishes.

So he geared himself up, getting rubber gloves, the custom gas mask he wore to block out smells, which covered his nose, mouth and lenses over his eyes, and he approached the child, almost like it was ticking time bomb to defuse.

He didn’t put up a fight to being lifted up and taken upstairs.

He didn’t even fight when he saw Lefty fill the bath.

In fact he looked curious.

Lefty wondered if he had never seen water before.

Regardless, he didn’t know where it came from, but he treated it like a child since it had obviously child behaviours.

Now Lefty was washing him in the bath, the water wasn’t deep, and Lefty was holding one hand to hold him while using the other to scrub around.

Lefty already emptied the water once because it turned red within two minutes.

Now Lefty was washing out the lotion he used to clean the skin of the sticky residue, wondering what it even was, he thought it looked like a bodily fluid but he wasn’t sure and didn’t dwell on it.

The bunny seem to enjoy the bath, trying to splash in the water, even trying to eat the bubbles that formed.

Lefty tried to think of where this thing came from, reasoning this thing didn’t appear to be something that was built.

But rather born.

And that should be impossible, as Lefty knew, they can’t reproduce.

But this thing could be a parasite... and if that's the case... I’m obligated to destroy it.

The bunny didn’t look bad in the slightest.

No one is born good or evil, he knew that, I'll search for whoever made you... but it's best if you live with me... living on the streets is not only dirty but dangerous.

With that decided, Lefty took him out of the bath, he brought out a towel and wrapped him up, debating where he could possibly sleep.

“So what is it?”

Breakfast was quite a spectacle for all, aside from the fact Lefty made French Toast

Lefty had set down Spring Jr, as he named him, on the sofa, he had obtained a spoon that he was using like a pacifier, much to Lefty's annoyance.

Lefty grabbed the handle, trying to pull it out of his mouth, while the kids watched him playing tug of war with a little bunny.

“I don’t know... I found it... I feel like it has Fazbear Entertainment written all over it...” Lefty answered.

“God, I’m sick of bull...” Alec huffed.

He knew they were all sick of the nonsense, considering everything that happened, like curses, killer animatronics, body swapping, possession, and sentient robots.

“I am honestly too... I’ve been debating...”

“Debating what?” Greg asked.

“Technically... I can quit... when we were made, Henry actually got us our own power of attorney in a nutshell.”

“You have a lawyer?” Millie questioned, surprised by the fact.

“All of us do, so Fazbear Entertainment can’t legally make us do anything we don’t want to... and I think it annoys them a lot... the only thing is... where would I get a job somewhere else? I mean it would be a pain but I could work somewhere else, it'd take a lot of effort, I think they pay us so we aren’t tempted to leave...”

“You can open your own restaurant,” Alec said, Lefty couldn’t tell if he was joking, “Seriously, you're a great cook and you are very patient.”

“I don’t know about it... but back to this... I'm going to sneak around the Archives... this is what I'd like you to do... watch this Bunny.”

“Well it seems calm... aside from the fixation on the spoon...” Oscar added.

“I might need to find something better for it to chew on, like a soft toy...”

“A tennis ball,” Greg immediately said, sounding serious.

Lefty laughed for a second, “How about no for now...” He finally pulled the drool covered spoon out of his mouth.

Lefty brought some stuff back and was studying it, he was reading some “confidential” documents, to which he found laughable how easy it was to take without getting caught, seriously he once got inside houses that were more secure than that building, all he needed was to break the keypad out of the wall and connect the fuse to unlock the door.

He was sitting on the sofa, Spring Jr was at his side, he had found something new to chew on— the spatula, which wasn’t bad since Lefty didn’t have to use it for anything at the moment, Lefty had made dinner and everyone went to do their own things at this time. Alec was sitting next to him, using the TV to play a game, Lefty was sort of interested, Alec said the game was called “A Hat in Time”.

Lefty shifted though the forbidden knowledge, stopping when he saw something, he read it a few times before confirming something he didn’t know.

Fazbear Entertainment had made a game in the works.

A game called Springtrap's Revenge.

It sounded like it was based off William Afton, which Lefty thought was tasteless, considering everything that happened.

He knew the history and it could take hours trying to put it into a correct timeline, the basics were that an unknown of kids had been murdered, Lefty knew the most about the original six, but they were more he kept learning about, Ennard, an incomplete prototype was possessed by a child Lefty had no idea existed, as the kid had a bad foster family and he was never confirmed to be dead until recently.

It sicken Lefty, considering now he had kids, true they were older than all of William normal victims, but Lefty considered himself a fiercely protective parent, and he had actually gone against people who threaten his kids, nothing violent, enough to teach them a lesson.

Lefty's phone lit up, as a message came in, Lefty thought it might be Fetch asking for treats but saw Mr Emily instead and immediately looked at it.

“Plan was success, we aren’t associated with Fazbear Entertainment anymore.”

Lefty smiled, he waited for this day, as did everyone.

Now they could hopefully stay to pull away from the tragedies and evil.

The foundation was corrupt.

But the future was bright.

Considering Lefty had a family now too.

He stopped working and watched Alec playing his game, he wasn’t one for video games, but having a teenager who was kind of obsessed with games (Alec did still study and did chores), Lefty got interested in the games, as a result, he had actually made good memories being a second player with Alec, laughing and smiling.

“We still have to find out where you came from...” Lefty muttered looking at Spring JR.

He then watched Alec for a few minutes before saying, “So you collect like little hourglasses in this game?”

“Yes.”

Pause.

“I might get some ice cream, you want some?”

“Yes, please.”

“Daddy?”

“What?”

“Is it calling you Daddy?”

“No... it's looking outside and saying Daddy... like he lost his father or something...”

Pete and Chuck were watching Spring JR along with Lefty.

“I think it's creepy...”

“I have to wonder... who does this thing see as its Daddy?” Lefty muttered, “Regardless... I'll try my best with it... I need to find out what Springtrap's Revenge might be...”

#Ask #Five Nights at Freddy’s #Fazbear Frights #Fazbear Frights House AU #FNAF In the Flesh #Lefty #Spring JR #Writing Drabble

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lucy-268 · 4 years

Text

Road Trip

A/N - This is the fourth installment of my chronological story. You can find the first three installments on my masterlist; if you haven’t read them, you probably won’t be lost. This takes place the day after I Would Not Change a Thing

A/N 2 - I’m incorporating a prompt provided by @rookie-ramsey (11. “You look adorable.”) from this prompt list here. Thank you to @openheart12 for helping me pick the song on the radio. Thank you to @oofchoices for my awesome moodboard!

Disclaimer: Most of the characters belong to PB

Warnings: I don’t think there are any here

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Ethan x f!MC (Charley Valentine)

Word count: 2,347 (this was longer that I thought it was going to be!)

“Good morning.”

Charley jumped at the greeting and turned to see Sienna leaning against the counter. “Good morning yourself.”

“What are you doing?”

Charley looked down at the pan on the stove. “Making breakfast?”

“You sound unsure,” Sienna’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “You normally don’t bother cooking before you go to work.”

“I’m off today.”

Sienna’s eyes widened. “Two days in a row?”

“Yeah. June needed next Wednesday off, so Ethan asked me if I’d mind switching with her.” Charley smiled at her roommate. “Since I have time, I figured I’d fix everyone breakfast.” She pulled out two pans of muffins as the timer went off.

“Thanks, Charley. I’m going to go shower.” Sienna turned away.

Later, after her roommates had left for their hospitals, Charley hurried to shower herself. She was thinking she should have just stayed in her room until everyone had gone; they were so concerned about what she was going to do on her bonus day off. She couldn’t really say she was spending the day with Ethan and his dad.

Drying her hair, she decided to let it hang loose around her shoulders. She dressed quickly, and packed up the remaining muffins and the cookies she baked after everyone had left. She had just finished when there was a knock at the door.

Charley’s breath caught as she opened the door to see Ethan dressed casually. She did love him in his dress slacks and tie, or anything, or nothing at all, when she dared to think about it, but the man did fill out a pair of jeans nicely.

By the time her eyes traveled up to his, Ethan had a smirk on his face. “Good morning.”

“It is good, and getting better by the minute.” She stepped aside to let him in. “I baked muffins and cookies this morning for the trip.”

“You didn’t need to, but thank you.” Ethan looked in the basket. “Banana, and is that almond?”

“Cherry almond, actually. I was afraid Elijah was going to eat all of them. It was a new recipe and it was a hit.”

As they were leaving Ethan pulled her bracelet out of his pocket. “Before I forget.”

Charley looked at it for a second. “I’m going to go put it away for today.” She hurried to her room and was back in less than a minute. “Ready.”

After a stop at a coffee shop they were soon on the road. Charley touched the radio knob. “May I?”

Ethan nodded. Charley ran through all of the presets on his FM and Sirius XM. “Everything is news, weather, classical, opera, or standards. Have you never heard of pop, rock, emo? You have hundreds on stations on Sirius!”

“Put on whatever you want.”

Scrolling through the channels, she stopped on a station playing Taylor Swift’s Our Song. “That’s better.”

Ethan’s mouth twitched. “It’s different.”

“How often do you visit Alan?”

“Usually day trips several times a month. More if I can.”

Ethan turned onto the on-ramp for the highway. “Can you get me one of those cherry almond muffins?”

Charley reached the basket on the backseat and grabbed a couple of muffins. She peeled the paper off of them and broke off a piece of muffin and held it to his mouth. Ethan smiled as he pulled the bite into his mouth. His tongue licked the tip of her fingers before she pulled her hand away. “This is really good. I thought that Sienna was the baker in your group.”

Charley laughed. “She is. I like to bake, too. But I need to have time. Sienna makes time every day. I found this recipe and she demanded I give it to her. She’ll probably make it and hers will be much better.”

She broke off a bite of the banana muffin and fed it to him. “That’s good but I like the other one better.”

Charley watched the cars on the highway. “Do you always take the highway?”

Ethan glanced at her. “It’s efficient and the fastest way?”

Charley rolled her eyes and leaned against the door. “Going back roads might lead to a new adventure.”

“I don’t do ‘adventure,’ Charley.”

“Of course not.” Charley reached for the basket again, this time pulling out several cookies, breaking an oatmeal cookie in half.

Before she held her hand to his mouth, he reached over and grabbed it. She giggled as she released it.

Soon they pulled off the highway into Providence. “We need to make a stop at the pet store first. It won’t take long; I’ve already placed the order and paid for it.”

Walking into the store, one of the cashiers greeted them. “Morning Dr. Ramsey. Let me get your order. Your dad and Jenner were in here last week. Your girl is so sweet.”

“Ethan, since we’re here, I want to buy her a toy. What does she play with?”

He shook his head, “You don’t need to do that.”

“I know I don’t need to, but I want to. I- I like dogs, but I’m a cat person at heart. I don’t want Jenner to not like me.”

“She’s not going to know…” Ethan sighed. “She has a couple of tennis balls she loves, but she also likes the soft, plush toys.”

They walked down the toy aisle and looked at the selection. Ethan picked up a stuffed leopard, while Charley grabbed a teddy bear. They continued down the aisle and reached for a stuffed frog at the same time. “We’ll get her all three?” Ethan nodded and carried them to the register.

Charley handed her card to the cashier and Ethan pulled her hand back. “I’ll get-”

“I want to pay for them. I want to get them for her. Please let me do this.”

Ethan decided it wasn’t worth it and let her pay.

Within ten minutes they pulled into a driveway and Alan and Jenner, a beautiful Golden Lab, came out the door. Charley saw the surprised look on his face. “You didn’t tell your dad I was coming?”

“It’s fine, Charley. He’ll be very happy you’re here.”

“He looks shocked.”

Ethan sighed. “Probably because I’ve not brought anyone home before.”

“Harper?”

“No one.” Ethan opened his door just as Alan opened Charley’s door. “Dr. Valentine. This is a very pleasant surprise.” He reached to help her out of the car.

“Charley, please.”

Jenner approached, tail wagging. “Don’t jump up, girl,” Ethan called to her.

The dog sat on Charley’s foot and raised her paw. Charley laughed and leaned down to shake the dog’s paw. “Hello, Jenner. I’m Charley.”

Jenner gave a bark and rubbed against her.

Ethan handed Charley the basket of muffins and cookies and the pet store bag with the toys, while he and Alan unloaded the bags and cases of Jenner’s dog food.

Alan had fixed a pot roast and the three of them sat down to lunch. The conversation flowed easily as Alan asked Charley where she grew up and went to school. Alan laughed when he asked her why she wanted to be a doctor and she said that she had read an article written by a certain Dr. Ramsey, that impressed her enough that she researched all of his work and decided to go to med school.

After they had the muffins and cookies with coffee, Jenner went to the door and sat. Alan said that he would do the dishes if they wanted to take the dog for her walk. Soon they were walking through the neighborhood, Charley holding Jenner’s leash in one hand and Ethan’s hand in the other. Ethan pointed out various places of people he knew, including the debris of the shed that he had blown up in retaliation for the cello destruction. The walk was fairly uneventful until Jenner spotted a squirrel and took off. Charley was pulled away from Ethan. Ethan ran and yelled for Jenner to stop and Charley to drop the leash.

“Jenner! Stop!” The dog finally stopped and Charley ended up flat on her stomach in a mud puddle. She finally slipped her hand out of the leash. Jenner laid down in the mud next to her and licked her face. Ethan helped Charley to her feet and wiped as much of the mud of her face as he could. Jenner stood up and shook, spattering more mud around. He laughed as he looked at the both of them. “I think we need to get back to the house. You could both use a bath!”

Charley looked down at herself and saw she was covered in mud. “You think this is funny?” She cocked her head to the side. “Do you think this is also funny?” She took a step closer to him and threw her arms around him, pulling herself up against him and pressing her mouth to his. She succeeded in getting mud all over him. “Oops. Looks like you also need a bath, too.”

Alan was on the deck drinking coffee. He burst out laughing as he saw them. He took Jenner’s leash. “I’ll give her a bath. You two are on your own. I can put your clothes in the washer, if you want.”

Ethan checked his watch and shook his head. “We don’t have time. I have some clothes here. Charley can wear some of my sweats. They’ll be too big, but at least it’ll be warm.”

She nodded. They left their shoes and socks by the door. Ethan led her to his room and pulled out sweats for her and jeans and a sweater for him.

“Umm, do you, this is embarrassing, the mud is everywhere. Do you, um, doyouhaveanyboxershortsIcanborrow?”

He turned to the dresser and pulled out a pair, as well as some socks. He reached behind him without turning to face her. He didn’t want her to see the smirk on his face. He also figured he would not be getting these clothes back. He led her down the hall to the bathroom. “Towels are in the linen closet there. I think a hair dryer is too. I have some shampoo and shower gel in the shower.”

He finally turned to look at her. She grinned at him. “Are you going to join me?”

“No. I’ll see you downstairs when you're done. I’ll use dad’s shower.”

Charley finished her shower and dried her hair. His sweats were too big. She turned the pant legs up and shoved the sleeves up to her elbows. She padded down the stairs and was almost to the kitchen when she heard the men talking. “What is going on between the two of you? I thought you said you couldn’t get involved with her?”

“I can’t. It’s unethical. She works for me.”

“You brought her here. You’ve never done that before, for anyone.”

“Yeah. I- she’s- she’s special. And I’m crazy about her. I can’t get her out of my head. I-“ Ethan’s voice trailed off.

Charley walked into the kitchen and both men looked up at her. Ethan smiled at her. “You look adorable.” She blushed at the way he was looking at her. “Your clothes are in my car. I’ll get them back to you after they’re washed.”

“I’m capable of doing my own laundry.”

“My dog caused this problem, so I’ll deal with it for you. We need to head back now.”

Alan and Jenner walked to the car with them. Alan hugged her. “He’s my son and I love him, but he can be an ass. You’re good for him.” He whispered to her.

As they pulled out of the driveway Ethan reached over and laced his fingers with hers. He kissed the back of her hand.

“The night we cooked the chicken, which I never got any of, you kissed me and we were supposed to talk later.”

“Sorry about the chicken.” Ethan kissed her hand again.

“When are we going to talk?”

“Soon.”

“Ethan.”

“It’s complicated. We’ll talk soon. Please don’t doubt how I feel about you, because-”

“I don’t doubt that. I’m trying to be patient. But I need for us to talk sooner rather than later.”

Ethan sighed and watched the road for several miles. Charley studied his features. “The next time we both have an early shift. We’ll have dinner together. And we’ll talk. Okay?”

Charley leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’ll hold you to that.” She settled her head on his shoulder; soon she was asleep.

Charley woke up to a kiss on the top of her head. She looked out the window and realized they were in front of her apartment building. “I slept most of the way. You should have woken me.”

“You needed to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll wait until you get inside the building. You should also know that Dr. Trinh just walked in.” Ethan hooked his finger under her jaw and turned her to face him. “Our next early shift, I promise.” He leaned over, his mouth covering hers; his tongue traced along her lower lip and slipped into her mouth. Her fingers curled into his hair and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her towards him. He finally broke the kiss and he whispered, “Good night, Dr. Valentine.”

She stepped out of the car and hurried up the steps to the front door of the building. She turned to wave to him.

She stood at her apartment door, with her keys in her hand. She closed her eyes and hoped all her roommates would be asleep. She opened the door and saw Sienna in the dining room.

Sienna’s eyes widened at the way Charley was dressed. “I was looking for those almond muffins. I guess we don’t have any left.”

“I took them with me today. I fell in the mud, and my clothes, um, they’re filthy. I’m going to bed.” Charley hurried to her room.

Sienna watched her go. Now she knew why she couldn’t find the muffins. That was one question answered. The main question for her now was, whose clothes was Charley wearing?

My tag list: @oofchoices @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @ohchoices @catchinglikekerosene @aylamreads @choicesficwriterscreations

#open heart #dr. ethan ramsey #dr ethan jonah ramsey #dr ethan ramsey x mc #choices open heart #open heart fanfiction

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