#i got my book over a month late sorry if this is old news

[aethernoise]

I knew about the concerning beaver entry but hadn't seen this one until I finally opened my own copy of Encyclopaedia Eorzea III

Is OP okay

[junipers-archive]

Paper Rings

Word count: 1.1k

Includes: tiny itty bit of angst to fluff, fluff, fluff, Spencer has been acting distant so you try to start up a conversation, ultimately leading to his confession about wanting to marry you but never finding the right moment

You were worried. More than usual worried, worried. Spencer had been acting odd lately, and for the past few weeks you had been trying your best to ignore it.

It was hard though, he had been distant, almost neglectful, his once cheerful and atentative attitude when listening to your day or the new book you'd been reading gone and replaced by a cool indifrence.

You were near to him now, sitting on the sunflower yellow sofa in your apartment, reading different books. But instead of being next to you he was on the other side of the couch.

In an attempt to start up a conversation you mentioned one of your fresher pieces of news,

"Hey Spence", He didn't even look up, just hummed.

You scooted closer, "Uh- I- Well you know my cousin? Marion, the one who got engaged a few months back?"

"yea" his eyes shifted up quickly and then right back down to his book.

"Well they finally set a date! I got my invite in the mail yesterday morning, it's in Hawaii!!"

"Oh, really?" he wasn't even glancing up now to seem interested.

Nevertheless, you tried one last time with enthusiasm, hoping he'd be kind enough to take pity and reciprocate even a fraction of it.

"So whadaya say handsome, be my plus one?"

"mhm." mhm. That's what your relationship had dwindled down to?

You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes as you got up from the sofa, trying really hard not to cry. But there was only so much you could take, was he seeing someone else? What had you done to make him so upset?

But that was the thing he wasn't even yelling at you! You'd become an irrelevant part of his life without even realizing it.

By this time you were grabbing your things in a scramble, trying to get out, get out of the apartmentget, get out of his life if thats what he really wanted. When it occurred to you that he was still obsorbed in that stupid book of his.

And you had to know, You just had to.

"Did I do something?! What-Just tell me what I did Spencer please!"

You were standing before him now, waving your arms around manically.

"Y-Y/n, whats wrong?"

"I don't know Spencer you tell me! I mean first I thought it was a case you were on that had put you off, or maybe that we'd been apart for too long but weeks went by! Its been weeks and you still won't even look me in the eye when we're talking!" You fail in your previous attempts to keep the tears at bay as droplets fall down your flushed cheeks.

He was stunned but eventually he found his words, "I-I- that wasn't my intention, I- just- I-"

You were hysterical at this point, he couldn't even tell you?

"Look Spencer. If you wanna break up, just say it already!"

You were one second away from storming out when he spoke up again, catching you by the wrist and leading you down the hall to the bedroom quickly.

"Look I'm really, really sorry Y/n its just that- well it'd be easier if I just showed you."

You came to sit on the bed, arms crossed over your chest as if armor protecting you from being hurt.

He was searching through the back of the closet you shared, finally pulling out a shoe box. He sat down next to you, opening the box, where rested an old sweater of his that had been worn thin and a black velvet box sitting within.

He handed the small compartment over to you explaining frantically,

"I've wanted to marry you for a long time now, hell Y/n I wanted to marry you since the moment I met you. But I kept chickening out and for the past few weeks I've taken you to our spots to pop the question but I-I- nothing was ever good enough...I couldn't find the perfect moment."

he looked straight in your eyes now, which were watery, overwhelmed by the idea he wanted to marry you just as much as you wanted to marry him. "You deserve the perfect moment. And not being able to provide that to you, it tore me apart, so...I became distant, praying I was good enough but also hoping you's find someone better..."

"I-I understand completely that this isn't the time or place but when I saw that you were crying- I just I needed you to know that the reason I was being so distant wasn't because I wanted to break up, far from it! I want to spend the rest of my life with you!"

You opened the box now, silently falling in love even more as you gazed down at the your dream ring.

Finally lifting your gaze to the boy in front of you and kissing him deeply, finding your voice again as you pulled back grinning,

"You're an idiotic-genius, you know that?"

He only grinned back, "Yea, yea I'm fairly aware."

You slipped on the ring, it was perfect fit.

"Well...Are you gonna ask me?"

He shook his head, "You're gonna have to wait till i find our perfect moment."

You grumbled like a digruntled child, leaping back on the bed and guarding your ring finger as he tried to take it back. Ultimately he ended up on top of you, both of you play wrestling like children.

"Y/n. Give. It. Back."

"NO its my ring now! You can't take it back! You practically already proposed!"

"You said yourself, I technically haven't asked!"

"Well why don't I keep it for now, just until you're ready?" You were wearing a shit-eating grin as you looked up at him, he had pinned you down with his hands on your wrists.

"No way. What Would I propose with then?"

You craned your neck to kiss him then, albeit akwardly. "I'd marry you with paper rings Dr. Reid."

He had gotten admittedly lost in your sweet words, which you used as your opprutunity to slide out from under him, once more flashing you giant grin before running out of the room.

"Y/N!"

The afternoon was lost to him chasing you around the apartment as you chanted, "Paper rings dr. Reid! Paper rings!"

[thebearer]

when teddys like two or three months you and carl are in a patch of him not being around and he comes home one day and she gives him no reaction or loves, and someone she sees frequently she is gummy smiling at them

oh this would wreck him. like the freezer scene has nothing on what this would do to him.

so the bear is doing really well. like really, really well, but they've got some competition. this new restaurant is moving closer and a little too close. they already tried to take marcus and syd, and carmen is stressed, falling back into his old ways. he feels like in a way he got himself here bc he had a baby and got lazy in a way- distracted, is more like it. as awful as that sounds, that's how he felt.

teddy's about six months and carmen's been at work non-stop. comes home late, if you go to the restaurant he barely has time for you, he's tightly wound and hateful- loses his temper quickly. richie tried to talk to him, tina, too; and he told them the same thing- to mind their own business.

you miss carmen, you do. but when you tell him that, he tells you he's here now- now being when he's practically collapsed in bed beside you.

it's the roughest patch the two of you had ever been through, and carmen doesn't even seem to realize it. until one day. the other restaurant got moved to the other side of the city- something about the building being mysteriously shut down for shoddy wiring (uncle jimmy had nothing to do with it!!)

carmen's feeling good. feeling like he can breathe again.

comes home early and you're surprised. he's happy and excited, but when he goes to teddy, she cries.

that tiny baby cry for you, just a little whine of sorts that she does when a stranger tries to hold her.

a stranger.

"teddy," carmen coos, trying again. "it's daddy, teddy bear."

teddy just turns into your shirt, whimpering and clinging to you. you watch carmen's heart break- the fall of his face, eyes widening into horrified realization.

"i think she's cranky, carm. it's her nap time-"

"she doesn't even know who i am." carmen's tone is hard- hurt.

"no, she's just a little sleepy, carmen. look, teddy, look," you coo, bouncing her lightly to coax her out of your chest. "look, baby, it's daddy."

teddy seemed to recognize the word, eyes lighting but she didn't relate carmen to that. blinking and looking around like she was looking for her dad. carmen's face crumbled, running his hands over his face to keep himself from sobbing in front of you.

you didn't know what to do, how to make it better. "i'm going to smoke." carmen rasped, voice tight with emotion, snatching his cigarettes off the table and going outside.

he called the only person he knew to. richie. breaking down, raw and emotional, begging him for any sort of advice on how to make it better.

"cousin, she's a baby. you got time to fix this. she won't even remember this-"

"-she doesn't even remember me." carmen sniffed hard, knee bouncing as his chest bubbled over with that familiar painful panic. "my own kid doesn't know who the fuck i am. what the fuck richie? what's fuckin' wrong with me. all i ever do is fuck everything up-"

"-hey, cousin, i'm stoppin' you right there, ok? let me be honest with you. this ain't about you, ok?" richie huffed. it was mean and cutting but it was true. "this isn't the time to be feelin' all sorry for yourself and shit, ok? you left your wife alone with that baby and you've been a real jagoff- like i said."

carmen hated it, hated that he was right, hated how he felt.

richie continued. "instead of sittin' in there like an asshole, why don't you go inside, take a few fuckin' days off, and get your shit together."

"cosuin, i-i can't do that-"

"- holy fuck, carmen. ok, let's try it again, alright? go inside. quit being a self loathing jagoff piece of shit, and take a few days off to be with your wife and kid, ok? i got the place for a few days." richie snapped.

"richie, we're booked for the next-"

"-look, do you trust me or not?" richie snapped.

"yeah, yeah, i trust you, c'mon." carmen muttered.

"then i got it, alright? if i need you, i'll call you, but for right now- your family needs you. if this was tiff or eva, i wouldn't even think twice about it. go be with your family, and fix this shit, you dumbass." richie huffed.

carmen took richie's advice. finding you in the bedroom, folding teddy's teeny tiny baby clothes. it made carmen sob. heavy heaving cries and mumbled apologies while he clung to you.

the next four days, carmen wouldn't leave the house. wouldn't leave your side or teddy's. he'd gotten her hesitantly out of the crib, eyes red rimmed when he cooed at her and changed her. she didn't cry this time, even giving him a tiny gummy smile that had him emotional all over again.

[murderhusbands4life]

Hannibal Lecter X Autistic Child Reader

first request!

request: Can u do like austitic child reader with Hannibal 

summary: Hannibal latest patient is a child filled with trauma over their elder brothers death and Hannibal cares for them like his own.

Third person pov...

Mrs L/N and her 7 year old arrive outside Dr Hannibal Lecter's office, Y/Ns new physiatrist. A little over a month ago Y/Ns elder brother died, the 7 year old witnessed it since then the child had been filled with terror and hadn't slept well since.

Said child was grumpily standing next to their Mum staring down at their shoes swaying back and forth. "Do I have too" they pout, this makes Y/Ns mum sigh, she kneels and holds her Childs shoulder making the kid flinch not liking touch.

"Sorry honey, but you know what the school says you have to stick with the same therapist for at least a week before going back to school" explains the kids Mum, the child sighs. "Okayy, lets do it" they say making the women smile at them.

The building itself was beautiful with a sense of historical back ground, it was tall and didn't look like a physiatrists office, nervously Y/N follows their mother inside the building, Mrs L/N had heard from her close friend Jack Crawford about an amazing physiatrist and decided to make an appointment for her child.

Soon they came to a door which was Dr Lecter's office, Mrs L/N knocks on the door, looking down at her nervous child of course the child was nervous, Y/N doesn't like change and this is a huge change for them, then the door opens and man stands there.

He was tall around 6tf, he had ash grey hair, brown eyes, he had sharp cheekbones and an obviously fake smile on his face, to Y/N he looked about 40 maybe mid 40s. he was wearing a dark red pinstripe suit and dark brown shoes.

He looks at the mother and child in front of him wondering who they were. "hello, you must be Dr Lecter, Im Y/M/N L/N and this is Y/N we have an appointment" says the H/C woman, Hannibal eyes widened a fraction before returning to normal. "ah yes my apologies, I had forgotten please come in" he says and stands to the right holding the door open.

He had a slight accent, possibly eastern European, Y/N wracks their brain trying to place it but couldn't think, they shall have to ask the man later.

But Y/Ns mum shakes her head at the invitation. "I'm already late for work, I'll leave Y/N with you" she says before turning her back and kneeling next to her child, Hannibal watches as the child's eyes wonder not looking at their mother.

"Y/N love, I'll be back to pick you up later okay, my shift at the clinic will finish at 5 okay see you then, be good and respectful to Dr Lecter now" she says to the child kissing their forehead and walking away throwing a wave goodbye behind her.

The hallway was filled with silence as the Dr and Child stand. "Please come in Y/N" he says to the silent child. Y/N nervously enters the pristine office, the child gasps at how large the room was, bright E/C eyes marvel at its beauty.

Dr Lecter lips turn up at the emotionless child gasping at his office, he then walks over to the child and begins taking their coat, this makes the child look at him before smiling in thanks. "Thank you, sir," Hannibal hears a mumble.

"of course, now if you would please take a seat we will begin" he says motioning to one of the chairs he uses for his patents, though it had been a while since he had such a young one in his office.

"now then we shall begin, I am Hannibal Lecter and I will be your physiatrist" he says smiling at the small child sitting in the overly large chair, said child was still looking around the room drinking in all the details and books.

"Im Y/N L/N, sir im 7 years old" comes a tiny voice, Hannibal smiles slightly, they were getting somewhere at least he got their name. "hello Y/N do you know why you are here?" he asks the child, Y/N stopped looking around and instead looked at their shoes.

"because I don't sleep and Mummy's worried about me" comes the quiet voice, Hannibal was barely able to hear. He crosses his legs and continues to write in his notebook, brown eyes look over the child sitting opposite him, their movements skittish like a scared bunny.

"And why is that Y/N?" he asks gently coaxing the child to speak more, minutes pass before the child speaks. "Because brother died and I still dream off him though not nice dreams, I miss him" whispers the child tears gathering in the corner of their big E/C eyes.

Already seeing this happening Hannibal hands, the 7 tear old some tissues he keeps on his desk, tiny hand grab the white tissue and wipes their tears and blows their nose. "t-thank y-you s-sir" comes a tearful voice.

Hannibal smiles gently at the child reassuring them. "of course, child" he says as their session moves on.

Over Y/Ns next few appointments with Hannibal they began to get more comfortable with him and always enjoyed coming to his office, once he noticed how their eyes wondered toward his many books on the second level, the expression of surprise will forever make him happy as he told the child they could read his collection.

Said child bounds over to the many books and carefully grabs a couple, he had learnt that Y/N was autistic and had a love for books they loved reading anything, the two become ever closer their sessions became something less formal.

Hannibal had never felt this close to a child before, but he enjoyed their sessions together and was delighted to be able to help such a sweet innocent child go through their trauma.

The end!

Hope you liked this first oneshot for this new book. Sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes in this.

Requests are open!

Word count: 1065

[sydsaint]

Summary: Bron finds himself out a hotel room after a late-night mix-up with the receptionist. Luckily for him, the reader is an old friend who is also getting into town late.

It's well past midnight when Bron's Uber from the airport finally pulls into the hotel parking lot. "Thanks, man." Bron mumbles a quick thanks to his driver before collecting his bags and heading inside the lobby.

Dragging his bags behind him, Bron heads for the check-in desk where there is a blonde woman watching something on her phone to occupy her time.

"Evening, sir." The woman perks up when Bron approaches the desk. "What can I do for you?" She asks him with a polite smile.

"Yeah, room reserved for Bronson Steiner?" Bron answers the blonde.

The blonde nods and starts typing at the keyboard in front of her. Bron watches her eyebrows furrow in confusion for a brief moment before goes back to her keyboard.

"Is there a problem?" Bron speaks up after a few moment of silence.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." The blonde frowns and mumbles something under her breath. "Mr. Steiner, I'm afraid that there was an issue with our booking system. We gave your room away earlier today." She bites the inside of her cheek, embarrassed by the mix-up.

Bron frowns but tries not to take his frustration out on the poor receptionist in front of him. "Are there any other rooms available? Even just for the night?" He asks her.

"No, I'm sorry." The blonde shakes her head sheepishly. "We're booked up fully for that Wrestling show going on in the arena across the way." She explains.

"Damn." Bron grits his teeth. "Okay, do you know if anyone else around has a room available?" He tries his best to remain calm and civil about the whole situation.

The receptionist clicks her mouse a few times in silence and Bron watches her in silence.

Out in the parking lot, you finally arrive at the hotel after a painstaking flight. You collect your bags from the back of your Uber and thank him before heading inside. When you step into the quiet hotel lobby, you spot Bron talking with the receptionist at the front desk.

"Bron!" You walk over to Breakker with a smile.

The two of you knew each other in NXT and were friends. You got moved up to Smackdown about a year ago and lost touch with Bron due to always being on the road. But recently Bron has joined the Smackdown roster. So the two of you have been catching up.

"I thought I was the only one crazy enough to be getting in this late." You joke with a laugh and walk over to Bron at the front desk.

"YN, hey." Bron turns toward you with a surprised but friendly smile. But you can tell something is bothering him.

You glance at the receptionist who is feverishly clicking away at her computer then turn back to Bron. "What's going on? Sign in not working or something?" You ask Bron.

"They accidently gave my room away earlier today." Bron explains. "And now they're all booked up for the show. So she's trying to find me a new hotel." He gestures to the receptionist.

"Oh, I hate when that happens." You frown. "When the show was in Ontario a few months ago they accidently gave my room away. I ended up having to share a room with Waller since we had that storyline going." You explain. "And my god can that man snore. Ugh, it was hell."

The receptionist continues trying to fix Bron's problem when an idea pops into your head. You turn toward her with a friendly smile. "Miss? Can I get checked in real fast?" You ask her. "It's a room for YN LN?"

The receptionist nods and quickly checks you in with no problems. You take your keycard and turn toward Bron. "You can bunk with me for the night, Bron." You offer. "Then you can see about getting a different room tomorrow when it's not like 2am and more places are open." You suggest.

"Oh, I don't want to intrude, YN." Bron shakes his head.

"You aren't!" You insist. "Come on. I've got a room with a king bed, Plenty of room for you and those broad shoulders for the night." You tease with a small laugh. "Really, it's no trouble."

Bron reluctantly nods and you ask the receptionist for a spare keycard. She hands one over to Bron and the two of you head up to your room.

You reach your floor and head for your room. You unlock the door and head inside. The room is nothing special. Just a standard room with a tv, table, two chairs, and a king bed.

"Alright, well I'm going to grab a shower before I head to sleep." You set your bags down and dig around for your sleep-wear. "Make yourself at home."

Bron nods and watches you disappear into the bathroom. He sits down at the edge of the bed and sets his head in his hands followed by a deep sigh.

"What the hell am I doing?" Bron groans to himself once he hears the shower turn on in the bathroom.

A little over a month ago when Bron joined Smackdown you were the first person to congratulate him on his promotion. It had been almost a year since you and Bron had last seen each other, but you acted like no time had passed. And that exact moment was when Bron realized that he doesn't just want to be your friend anymore. No. The man has a hopeless crush on you. And now he's about to sleep in the same bed as you.

Around half and hour later you emerge from the bathroom dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear while toweling your hair off. Bron chokes on air from his spot on the edge of the bed as you approach him.

"That the side you want, Bron?" You ask absentmindedly and walk around to the other side of the bed.

"Y-yeah." Bron nods, gaze following you all the way around the bed.

You toss your damp towel toward the bathroom door and hop up onto the bed. "Cool with me." You settle into the mattress and reach for your phone to plug it in. "I'll see you in the morning, Bron." You switch your side-table lamp off and snuggle into your pillow.

Bron remains in a sitting position for a while, his nerves paralyzing him. But after a while he finally calms himself enough to strip his shirt off and lay down.

You lay on the other side of the bed fast asleep on your back with your head turned toward Bron. Breakker lays in silence and watches the rise and fall of your chest, silently scoffing at the Tony D'Angelo shirt you're wearing.

Eventually Breakker does manage to fall asleep for a while. He's woken up a couple hours later when he suddenly feels a weight shift in the bed followed by a warm body right up against him. Bron's eyes shoot open and he finds you snuggled up into his side and still sleeping like a baby.

"Shit." Bron mumbles to himself as he stares down at your sleeping form.

Light is starting to stream in through the window, so it's got to be at least six by now. A part of Bron wants to flee back down to the lobby and get his room situation figured out. And he probably would if you weren't using him as a body pillow right now.

Bron's heart thumps in his chest and the noise is enough to make you stir in your sleep. "God you're warm." You sigh half-asleep and adjust your body a bit before snuggling back into Bron. "And cuddly, Bron." You add with a yawn.

Bron lays awake for around another hour before you eventually roll off of him and fully wake up for the morning.

"Morning, Bron." You yawn and sit up in bed.

"Morning." Bron replies and does the same.

You take a moment to stretch your arms over your head before you let yourself fall back down into bed. "Sleep well?" You ask Bron.

"Yeah, fine." Bron nods.

"Liar." You reply with a sly grin. "You slept for like two hours max last night." You laugh. "You were to busy having a crisis over being in the same bed as me, dork." You giggle and poke Bron in the back.

Your claim makes Bron turn around to face you. "How'd you know that?" He asks you.

"I'm a pretty light sleeper." You shrug. "Plus when I rolled over to your side of the bed I could her your heart about to burst out of your chest." You giggle and poke Bron's bare chest. "So. How long were you planning on pining over me like a lost puppy?" You ask him.

"I-I-I was not pining." Bron huffs in embarrassment.

You smirk and rise into a sitting position again. "Sure you weren't." You tease him. "That's why you're blushing right now. Because you aren't dying to see me naked." You wink at Bron.

Bron runs a frustrated hand over his face and you giggle at him. "What's so funny?" Bron asks you, clearly about to die from embarrassment.

"You are." You continue with your fit of giggles and sit back up in bed. "And criminally adorable when you're all flustered and embarrassed." You add. "So. Whadduya say, Bronson? You ready to admit you've got a thing for me? Or do I have to go shower alone?"

You watch Bron's eyes widen in surprise and you can't help but laugh again at his flustered expression. "So adorable." You tease. "Come on, big boy. Don't get all choir-boy-eques on me now." You scoot to the edge of the bed and grab Bron's hand.

"Well I'd be stupid to say no." Bron finally replies after a few seconds of contemplation.

"Atta boy!" You grin and continue on your journey to the bathroom, Bron trailing close behind you.

You are going to eat this poor awkward man alive. And you can't wait to see what he's got in store for you.

[stars-and-inkpots]

Ok- sorry I’ve never done this before. But I was wondering if you could do a Gale fic/ oneshot where tav/reader somehow finds a way to like remove his orb but instead of getting rid of it all together it goes to them? Like now they have the orb in their chest and they have like all the pain and the possibility of going boom? If not that’s completely fine- I just had that idea and I felt you’d be amazing for it! I hope you have an amazing day!<3

OKAY! I know I've been gone for like five months, but I finally got motivated again! (Those new patches have thrown me right back into my hyperfixation) I know this is so very very late, but I hope you enjoy! I really liked this idea, and it honestly might end of a part of a multi-chapter thing if I get around to it. This is set before the events of the game.

(p.s. it's 3 am and I haven't really read through this, so I'm sorry if there are some mistakes that I won't catch till I've slept)

What's Yours is Mine | Gale x Reader

After months of research, you finally find a way to get rid of the volatile orb in Gale's chest. Of course, things don't work out exactly the way you intend them to.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, brief allusion to suicide(kinda?)

Ao3 Link: Baldur's Gate 3 Requests

Word Count: 1249

You know it isn’t going to be easy. It’s taken months of research, and even now as you look through the large practically ancient book, you aren’t entirely sure that this is going to work. Gale is sceptical too, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He also knows that when it comes to old magic like this, there is always the chance of something going wrong. It wasn’t like this was simple magic either. The nature of his condition is complicated and volatile, and this could easily cause problems.  

Gale sits in the centre of the chalk circle while you finish drawing the runes around it. 

“Are you sure about this, my love?” 

You’ve been talking in circles like this for the past twenty minutes while you’ve been preparing for the actual ritual. 

“Yes, Gale. We’re so close to a solution now.” You draw the final line of a rune and walk over to kneel in front of him. “I’m sure. If there’s a chance to help you, I want to take it.” You kiss his forehead and he gives you a small smile. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

“I’m sure,” he answers, and kisses you quickly before you stand again. 

With the circle of runes finished, you move to grab the book. The page you need is bookmarked, and you flip to it to study the words on the page once more. Between the lines are notes and annotations in both Gale’s and your own writing. You added reminders on how to pronounce some of the words, and Gale had marked the translation. You look at Gale once more, and he gives you a reassuring nod. 

You start reciting the lines from the book. Immediately, you can feel the air begin to buzz with magic. Three lines in, and you can taste copper, which is a common side-effect when it comes to older magic like this so it’s not too concerning yet. What is a little worrying, is the sheer amount of power you can feel moving through your body while you speak, and the slight purple glow that is spreading across your arms and steadily growing brighter. You chance a glance at Gale and notice that he too seems to be feeling the same effects. There’s a growing apprehension in both of you as you continue to speak the words on the page. By the time you reach the final line, the feeling is almost unbearable. It’s like the pressure in the room has increased tenfold, like a weight has been dropped on your shoulders and bears down on your lungs.

Once you utter the final word, everything seems to slow for a moment. 

Then you feel it. 

A horrible pain wracks through your body. You let out a scream. It feels like something is tearing open your chest- or is it clawing its way in? You can’t tell; you can’t think. Your vision is dark, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you’ve blacked out or because pain has forced your eyes shut. Everything feels cold, far, far too cold, but also so terribly hot. 

Finally, the pain lessens enough that you can take a full breath, though it is interrupted by a sputtering cough. When you eventually open your eyes again, you realise that at some point you must have fallen to the floor. You can feel Gale’s arms around you, he is shaking. 

“Did it work?” You ask, despite how much it hurts to speak. The burning feeling in your chest hasn’t entirely left yet. 

“That doesn’t matter. Are you okay?” 

You try to sit up and wince with the effort. Gods, your chest hurts. 

“I’ll be alright. Gale, did it work?” You ask again, looking for the tell-tale mark on his chest and neck. You find the scar still, skin sunken in some parts and raised in others, but it is no longer the usual, shimmering purple. Now, it just looks like a normal (save for the shape) scar. You smile, because at least the spell did its job. Then you see a look of horror cross Gale’s face. 

“No, gods no,” he whispers, tentatively brushing his fingers along your collarbone. You hiss in pain. It feels like he’s brushed his hands across a fresh burn. 

You bring your own hand up to feel the centre of your chest, and your stomach drops. You know the shape, having memorised it from the number of times you ran your hands across Gale’s scar. This spell worked, but not in the way it should have. 

“We have to do it again,” Gale stands, pushing a still shaky hand through his messy hair. He stares at the special candles that have already burnt far too low to make it through the ritual a second time, and lets himself believe that they will be enough. “I am not going to let you carry my burden like this. Get in the circle and I can start the ritual again.”

“You know that won’t work. The candles are out, and all the herbs and incense are burnt, not to mention the crystals. It will take ages to find those again.” You don’t blame him for this, no matter how much he might blame himself and how much he might want you to blame him. “I’ll be fine, Gale. You managed it for so long, and now it’s my turn. We’ll figure it out.” A part of you remembers what Gale said of his power and how the orb drained it, but you quickly silence those thoughts before you can worry too much about your own magic. 

“No. This wretched thing is the consequence of my mistake. I will not let you suffer through it. I can’t.” He’s kneeling in front of you again, cradling your face in his hands. “What if it becomes unstable? I can’t-” Gale tries and fails to keep his voice steady. “That cannot happen to you.” 

“And it would be better if it were to happen to you? It is fine for you to die with it?” You return, perhaps too harshly, but surely now he might understand how it felt to hear him say such things when it was him with the magic bomb in his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” is all he answers after a few moments of silence. You aren’t sure what exactly he’s apologising for, but you wrap your arms around him and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“We’ll figure this out. We always do. I promise.” The pain still hasn’t subsided completely. You can’t imagine how Gale has managed to grit his teeth and bear it on his worst days if this is how the orb feels when it is, more or less, stable. You feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head. “It’s like we always say, remember? What’s yours is mine.” The phrase was common between you two. It was one of the first things Gale had said when you moved into the tower with him. ‘What’s mine is yours,’ he had said with a grand sweeping gesture. Since then it has been used whenever either of you had to borrow something from the other, anything from books to warm wool sweaters you had no intention of returning anytime soon. It seems strange to say it now, but you hope it gets your point across regardless; by the slight shake of Gale’s chest as he laughs softly, you figure it has. 

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Dreaming Of You

PAIRING | Husband!Dad!Robert Downey Jr. x Wife!Mom!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 2.9K

SUMMARY | Life with your husband, Robert, and your three-month-old son, Joseph, has been nothing short of a dream, and you are grateful you get to live this life with him. When you find out you're having another baby after almost a year and a half later, you get a surprise of a lifetime, and the love between you and your husband only grows stronger because of it.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | RPF, established relationship, age gap, use of nicknames (Gorgeous, Bubba), referenced pregnancy, breastfeeding.

SMUT | Dirty talk, hair pulling, praising, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), cream pie.

A/N | @ccbsrmsf1 gifted me this idea after she had a fantastic dream, and it is an honor to turn it into a full story for you! This idea kept melting my heart while at the same time making it beat faster with every passing second, and I am incredibly proud of the result. I hope you love it as much as I did when writing it, and I thank you so much for sharing this! I love you 3000 💙

A/N 2.0 | This one-shot is proofread by @late-to-the-party-81, for which I'm very grateful! Thank you for all your support on my blog and your feedback because it took this story to a whole different level! 💙

EVENTS Masterlist | @anyfandomaubingo | Author!Reader Masterlist | @anyfandomfluffbingo | Secret twin Masterlist | @anyfandomkinkbingo | Cupping Masterlist | @sweetspicybingo Winter | The Nightmare Before Christmas

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist

You have heard many stories about having a baby—many good, some not. However,  despite all that, you've been living on a blue cloud since your little boy, Joseph, was born a just over three months ago. Ever since he came into your life, he has brightened every second, and seeing the expressions softening on your husband's face is priceless. Every time he steps through your front door, you can see him visibly relax at the sight of his precious son, which warms your heart.

Robert has been under quite a bit of stress lately due to his busier-than-normal work schedule, but he will always make time for you two, for which you'll always be grateful. Family has always been very important to Robert, and since your son was born, he's been trying to be home more and more, much to your delight.

Right now, you're sitting on the couch breastfeeding Joseph—or Joe, for short—while watching The Nightmare Before Christmas, one of your favorite movies to watch all year round. While Joe happily suckles away, you hear Robert's keys turn the lock on the front door, notifying you that your husband is home again.

"Daddy's home, Bubba. Are you excited to see him again?" you ask Joe. He smiles with your nipple still in his mouth, which makes your heart melt a little bit.

"Oh, look at the two of you! Are my two favorite people having fun on the couch together without me?!" Robert asks with faux surprise, and it makes you chuckle. You look at him with a love-filled look, and he gives one in return as he sits beside you.

Before you got pregnant, you two were already very close and very in love, but your love has only increased tenfold since the birth of your son. He leans in to give you a soft peck on your lips, and the small gesture makes you feel very loved.

"We are. He got hungry a little sooner than usual, so I figured I'd feed him now so he wouldn't have to wait too long. How was your day today?" you ask with a soft smile, but his soft expression gives way to one filled with worry.

"I have to go to New York for two weeks tomorrow. I tried to get out of it, but sadly, I cannot, for which I'm very sorry, Gorgeous," Robert sighs, his brows knitted together as he looks at you with a regret-filled expression.

"Hey, it's okay. Maybe we can join you in the second week. I have to finish my manuscript for my new book this week, but once I send it to my editor, I have all the time to visit you with him. I'm sure he wouldn't mind seeing his Daddy again either," you say as you reposition him slightly to be more comfortable.

"That would be amazing, Gorgeous, but only if you're sure. If you'd rather stay home-" is all he can say before you cut him off with another kiss. You can feel him melt a little into your gesture, his shoulders losing some of the tension he held onto this entire time.

"I'm sure, Robert. I want to be by your side, and I cannot stay away from you for too long; you should know that by now," you say with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. He lets himself be comfortable by your side while looking at his son. He looks exactly like you, from the facial features to the hair and skin color, although you both suspect he will end up with Robert’s eye color. It's abundantly clear he combines your shared love, and Robert couldn't be happier.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" you whisper, and Robert nods softly before letting his finger glide over Joe's cheek, feeling its softness against his skin. He already looked forward to coming home to you every day, but now that you have a baby, he definitely can’t stay away anymore.

"I love you both so much," Robert whispers in turn, and you give him a soft kiss on the top of his head. All three of you stay like that until Joe is done feeding; Robert takes him out of your arms to get burped and gives him a clean diaper. You decide to take a much-needed shower and take care of yourself for a bit.

"Thank you so much for taking over; I'll go take a shower and start dinner so you can have some much-needed baby time," you tell him, and Robert nods with a big smile. He wants to soak up every second he can now that his son is still small, especially since he's often gone due to his hectic schedule.

"I'd love nothing more, Gorgeous," he tells you, and you retreat to the shower for some personal time. Taking care of a baby and finishing your manuscript for your latest book is a challenge, and even though you love doing both with all your heart, you also know you wouldn't have been able to do it without his help.

When you walk down the stairs 30 minutes later, feeling refreshed and wearing a nice set of comfortable PJs—which consist of not much more than a pair of booty shorts and one of his shirts -Robert is sitting on the couch with his knees pulled up and Joe on his lap while playing peek-a-boo. Your heart skips a beat or two at the sight of your son's laughter.

As you listen to them bonding, you start on dinner, and it doesn't take long to finish cooking, seeing how you opted for a simple pasta dish today. As you do that, Joe is starting to get sleepy, so Robert decides to put him down for a nap.

"I'll be right back, Gorgeous. He just let out the biggest yawn I've ever seen him do, so I have a feeling he might benefit from a little nap. You were also feeding him early, so I think he's just being a sleepy little boy today," you look over at your husband and son, a warmth flooding through you at the sight and a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"He didn't sleep much during his afternoon nap, so I am not surprised he's this sleepy already," you say, and Robert nods in understanding. Even though Joe usually sleeps like a champ, he's having an off day today and will benefit from having another nap now.

"Sleep well, Bubba," you whisper to Joe before giving a soft peck on his cheek, to which he gives a sleepy smile in return. While Robert puts him down for his nap, you finish dinner, and both finish eating soon after. The conversation flows naturally and is light, but it's the perfect way to destress for a little while.

"What do you think of having a cuddle session on the couch? He'll be out like a light for the foreseeable future, and I have missed you way too much today," Robert says as you put the last plate away after the dishes, his chest plastered against your back.

"Depends on the kind of cuddle session you're thinking of," you say as you turn in his hold, giving him a raised brow as you look up at him. He's quite a bit taller than you are, so you have to crane your neck a little, making Robert chuckle.

"I think you know exactly what kind I'm talking about, Gorgeous," Robert says, his voice dropping slightly as he does. He leads the two of you to the couch before sitting down and pulling you with him, and you cannot suppress a little shriek that comes out.

As he gets comfortable on the couch, you move to straddle his lap, and your mouths quickly find each other in a heated, passionate kiss. His fingers are digging into your hips as he grinds you over his growing erection, and soft whimpers are swallowed in your kisses.

"Missed you so fucking much, Gorgeous, you make me so happy, and I want another baby with you," he tells you, and your eyes go wide at his confession. Did he say what you think he did? You take a short moment to let it sink in, and your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you do so.

"I would love nothing more, Robert; I want at least three babies with you!" you tell him, and the smile on his face is indescribable. Lust quickly seems to take over his body as he pulls you closer, your hips grinding over his clothed member again while more soft whimpers escape, leaving you needing more, needing him.

"Robert, please," you say, and he knows exactly what you want. You scoot back far enough to free his cock; the tip flushed red as a bead of pre-cum is gathered at the slit. The veins running along have your mouth watering as you desire to run your tongue over them, and your pussy clenches around nothing.

Your shorts are pulled to the side quickly, allowing you to sink onto his cock as you take it inch by inch. Your walls envelop him completely and deliciously, making both of you moan in unison.

"You're so sexy when you sit on my cock, Gorgeous," he whispers with a lopsided grin as his fingers softly squeeze your hips, and you look into his deep, dark brown eyes when you bottom out. Your lip is pulled between your teeth to suppress a groan, being mindful that you won't wake up your sleeping son.

Once you've adjusted to his cock inside you, you lift yourself before bottoming out again, setting a slow pace for the two of you to enjoy while your fingers tangle into his hair, messing it up as you catch his mouth with yours in a slow, passionate kiss.

Robert's fingers are digging into the soft flesh of your hips to ground himself, not wanting to shoot his load right away. Even though you two had a lazy session of morning sex that very same day, you two will never get enough of each other, and this moment is evidence of just that.

"G-Gorgeous, please," Robert stammers out as his gaze locks onto yours, your eyes half-lidded as the pleasure courses through your body, his plea settling into the butterflies going wild in your body.

"Please, let me fuck a baby into you. You know I love it when you ride me, but for the love of God, let me fuck a baby into you," he begs, and the words are slowly sinking in as the pleasure builds rapidly.

As soon as you give him the go-ahead, your back hits the soft fabric of the couch, and your thighs spread of their own accord to welcome him back. Before he lines up with your entrance, he teases your clit a little with the tip of his cock, making your back arch as he does.

"That's it, Gorgeous, doin' so well for me right now. 'M gonna give you all the babies you want when you're this good for me," he says as he nuzzles into your neck, the scent of your apple-scented shower gel still lingering on your skin.

He stays still for a moment after bottoming out, reveling in the pleasure of your warm, tight pussy wrapped around his cock before he starts moving slowly, taking his time before sliding back in as if he's savoring every stroke of his cock inside you. It's as if he's committing every inch of you to memory.

"So tight, so perfect, Gorgeous. I'm so lucky you want to give me all your babies. Allowing me to stuff you full with my cum until it drips out and you're pregnant," he groans as he keeps thrusting in and out of you slowly, taking his sweet time as he makes love to you.

"You're so beautiful, and I truly got lucky when I met you," he says as he looks into your eyes, and you can see his love grow with every passing second. Your arms are slung loosely around his neck, your fingers softly gripping the hair on the nape of his neck as he speeds up his thrusts every so often, the pleasure in both your bodies building quickly.

"R-Robert, 'm close," you moan softly, and he lets you know he's close too, based on the soft groans tumbling from his lips. Your legs wrap around his hips to pull him even closer - his cock hitting your sweet spot with every thrust has your eyes rolling back as the pleasure comes to a high.

"M almost there, Gorgeous, I'm close too," he pants out as he picks up the pace even more, his moans muffled by your shoulder as he cums. You both fall over the edge at the same time, and Robert takes his time to ride out both your orgasms before slipping out and pulling you on top of him on the couch.

When Robert takes a deep breath before saying something, you can hear little Joe over the baby monitor, and with a satisfied smile, you look at your husband.

"You go get cleaned up, and I'll go take care of him, okay?" you say, and he nods. You climb off of him, readjusting your shorts and shirt while he gets off the couch, carefully tucking himself away before going to get himself cleaned up, too.

"You're the best wife and mother we could have asked for, you know that? And I cannot wait to add another baby to our family to make your dreams come true," he says as he cups your cheeks and leans in to capture your lips with a sweet, soft kiss. Another flood of warmth and love swoops through your stomach.

"I love you, Robert, and I cannot wait either!" you tell him as you walk to the nursery, leaving Robert with a content smile. You're lucky to have met him, and building a life with him is the cherry on top of it all.

It has been almost a year since you and Robert decided to try and conceive again, and it took about six months before you got a positive test result. A few weeks later, you discover your baby is healthy and growing rapidly. But today is the day you will find out the gender of the little Nugget growing in your belly.

"Everything is looking good,” the sonographer says. “Are you excited to find out-" she cuts off suddenly and turns completely silent, except for the whirring of machines. A sense of dread fills you, and you squeeze Robert's hand. As you look at the baby monitor, your brows knit together, trying to understand what the sonographer sees. Your heart feels like it's sinking through the floor.

"Is everything okay with the baby?" Robert is the first to speak up, and you can feel a lump forming in your throat. For a moment, you're afraid your worst nightmare is becoming reality, but the sonographers next words confirm that nothing could be further from the truth.

"Well, yes. Everything is okay with the baby, but we read the ultrasound wrong the last time because you are pregnant with twins!" she says before profusely apologizing. All this time, you were growing two babies, and one of them is quite a lot smaller, so they have been hiding. You were growing a 'secret twin' of sorts.

"Can you tell their gender?" you ask, the relief evident in your voice. Your eyes are again trained on the monitor when she tells you the fantastic news, a flutter of excitement going through your chest and stomach as the words slowly sink in.

"You'll be having two wonderful, identical baby girls!" she says, and a huge relief washes over you. With these words, every ounce of worry washes away, and you look at Robert with tears. Not only will you have two more babies with him, but to have two girls at once is truly the cherry on top.

"I can't believe we'll be having twins! And two little girls; I think Joe will be happy to have two baby sisters to play with when they're older," you tell your husband, who has a huge smile. He's thrilled now, and you're happily sitting on a large, pink cloud.

Life couldn't be more perfect if you'd tried. With Robert getting another major movie role, your new book being published in a few weeks, and two babies on the way, you're going to have a busy life, but one you're looking forward to more and more every day.

"This is better than I could have ever dreamed of, Gorgeous," Robert tells you as you walk out of the doctor's office, your fingers interlaced with his as you do. Your free hand rubs your round belly, and a smile is stretched wide on your face.

"It's everything I ever dreamed of and more. Life finally feels perfect with an amazing husband like you, a beautiful son, and two more miracles on the way. Like I am exactly where I am supposed to be," you tell him as you're standing outside the doctor's office, the rays of sun shining down on both of you.

"I almost forgot how sappy you get when you're pregnant, but by God, do I love it. I'm lucky to have an amazing wife like you," he says with a broad smile before leaning in and capturing your lips with his. The rest of your life starts here, and you're looking forward to the day you'll be bringing your daughters home because that will be the day your lifelong dream has officially come true.

[huggybearluvr]

Remembering the wild college days with Boldy

the good ol' days | mb12

summary: After your wedding, You and Matt were sat in your new house relishing in the old memories as you unpacked your bags.

Masterlist

You were sat on the floor unpacking a box, Matt made his way beside you sitting down beside you.

He laughed picking up the plastic duck from the box.

"Do you remember when you took a shot of tequila out of this?" He asked looking over to you," That was when I knew I was in love with you."

You laughed smacking his chest.

-

You had let Matt talk you into attending a party at his frat.

After a few drinks you were feeling more than confident. You had joined the boys on the table, taking the duck.

You poured back a shot from the duck as the boys around you cheered.

Matt had hoped up onto the table, kissing you.

-

You smiled at the memory, you then pulled out your old text book.

"You gave me a concussion with that," He laughed out taking the book from you.

-

"You know honestly Robert Pattinson is hideous," He spoke as he sat across from you at the table looking up from his phone.

You looked up in shock, "You take that back right now."

"No, I mean look at this picture, he's fucking ugly," He spoke turning the phone toward you.

You gasped picking up your text book, throwing it at him. You never meant for it to hit him.

But it did. I hit him smack in the head. You laughed before running over kissing his head, "I'm sorry sorry, that was an accident."

"baby, it's fine," He spoke laughing hysterically.

-

He smiled rubbing his head," That was hilarious."

"No it wasn't," You spoke looking over to him," I felt so bad."

"It was totally worth it, you babied me for the next three months," He smiled poking at your cheek.

You looked back the box picking up a picture of you in a childs motorized car.

"Do you remember when you brought this to college and I drove it to every class I had when I broke my leg?" You asked giggling at the picture.

-

You had just recently broke your leg. You had complained to Matt about having to walk to classes and always being late due to the crutches.

The next day he showed up to your dorm with a childs motor car. Handing you the key, "I got you this to get to class on time."

He laughed, "Go try it out."

You immediately got in driving it down the hall to your best friends dorm.

The entire time your leg was broke you drove the car to every class, every game, everything. Matt loved it.

He thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

-

"You drove that thing everywhere," He laughed placing a hand on your back.

"I'm so glad I got experience all of that, with you," You smiled turning to look at him.

"me too," He smiled leaning in to place a kiss to your lips.

His hand made his was to your stomach, "I'm even more glad that one day we will get to tell our son all about it."

You smiled back at him, "Me too."

[esmedelacroix]

"And the way you cut your hair,"

husband!miguel x f!reader ♡

10 Things I Hate About You ← mini-series masterlist

“I hate the way you talk to me," ← previous part

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As much as you'd hoped Miguel wouldn’t be roped back into his old habits of working like he needed it to live, he did. He would come home late, and leave the house early.

You would wait for him to get in bed but fall asleep cold and alone while he worked in his study. He would drown himself in all this unnecessary work and research whenever something personal or work-related was plaguing him.

You gave him space but it had been a while since you had seen him. Outside of already having to go on missions, he was hunched in his study making whatever gizmos or gadgets he thought of. It had been almost a month and you only saw Miguel two times a week, always in his office sleeping at his desk.

You were fed up with not being able to see him and 'giving him his space'. You barged into his office where he was working on a new suit. There were all sorts of reports, open books, scrap pieces, and nails scattered on the ground. The only light illuminating the room was his screens that were hanging around.

The low buzz of all the machines and monitors was the only sound that could be detected other than Miguel's breath hitching whenever he accidentally poked himself with the needle.

Miguel had dark circles under his eyes. His glasses sat on his nose and a toothpick was lodged in his mouth. He had a slight stubble growing but one thing really caught your eye and that was his hair. Which was tied up into a slick man bun. A man bun?! You thought to yourself in shock. As much as you hated to see him in this state, you loved this look on him.

His head shot up, eyes following you as you walked over to him dodging any of the nails on the ground. "Miguel, this is getting out of hand," you sighed as you plopped down next to him.

He put the suit and needle down and turned to you. "I know, I'm sorry, I just didn't want to burden you with my problems," he sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.

"Oh my god, Miguel?! I'm your girlfriend. It hurts me more when you don't tell me what's going on," you insisted, almost laughing at the thought of him burdening you because of opening up.

That night you dragged Miguel out of his study and ran a bath for him. He stepped out of the bathroom while you were reading a book on your bed already in the sheets waiting for him. He had a towel wrapped around his hips displaying his v-line and his slutty little waist. That wasn't even what made you go wild. It was his hair. He didn't go for a haircut in ages and his wet hair was now draped over his face a bit.

It was longer than it usually was. You watched as he ran his hand through his hair and flipped it a bit. You most likely soiled your panties right then and there.

He put on some boxers and sweats and got into bed with you. You noticed that he was using one of your Sanrio scrunchies to tie his hair. You didn't know that Miguel with a man bun was something that you needed biblically until now. "What? Should I cut it?" Miguel asked, feeling your eyes on him.

"No! No, I don't mind it," you said trying to play off your sudden outburst.

"Okay..." he smirked as wrapped his arms around you. You giggled as he tickled your neck with kisses. You had finally calmed down and lay on the bed together.

"I missed this," he sighed.

"Promise me you'll talk to me next time you feel like you're entering a slump. Let me be your support system," she whispered as she played with the loose strands of his hair as the pale moonlight shone on them through the window.

"I promise," he whispered as the two of you drifted off to sleep.

. . .

next part → "I hate the way you drive my car,"

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taglist: @lilscast @lazyjellyfish300

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 10.1 - magic man

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (angst, language)

Word Count: 1800

A/N: this is the epitome of drama. sorry, not sorry.

☾

Cold, late night so long ago When I was not so strong you know A pretty man came to me I never seen eyes so blue You know, I could not run away it seemed We'd seen each other in a dream

☾

February 14, 1984 - junior year

Eddie tapped his pencil on the desk with nothing but resentment.

After school detention was a literal hell. His punishment was to write lines, I will not vandalize school property, over one hundred times on the paper in front of him. But it wasn't his handwriting, or his paper, or even the detention itself, that irritated him.

It was the fact that you were in there with him, sitting a mere four desks away, and he hadn't heard a goddamn word from you in over two months.

He stewed over what you could possibly be writing lines for. Have you ever even been assigned detention before? A few punishments popped into his mind that he thought you deserved.

I will not abandon so-called friends.

I will not be the epitome of avoidance.

I will not ignore Eddie Munson in the halls every fucking day.

I will not make out with a man on New Year's Eve then literally act like he's a stranger the next day.

The pencil suddenly snapped in his hand, and Eddie threw the pieces on the floor.

Mr. Eulin, the unfortunate teacher supervising this detention, immediately saw this. Eddie could have snorted with arrogance at the fact that Eulin actually looked up from his Anne Rice novel to shoot him a nasty glare.

"Munson, pick that up or it's another detention for you tomorrow."

"Oh, woe is me."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing, sir."

"That's what I thought. Now clean up the mess."

Eddie looked towards the windows, bright warm light shining through the dusty panes of glass. It was a freezing February day in Hawkins, but the sun seemed to wish differently.

He knew that you were looking at him. He could feel your eyes on him, even though you were a few rows back. Anger rose up, like a disease feasting on its victim, his stomach turning over. There was no controlling it now.

Lacing his words with instigation, he touched the piece of paper in front of him, crumpling it slightly. 

"Sir, I would much rather watch Buckley pick up the pieces."

Eulin stared at him again, his bushy eyebrows rising up in surprise as he flopped his book on the desk. 

He knew he was already dead set on another detention. Like a wrongfully accused prisoner on death row, Eddie Munson felt the need to be vindicated. What else did he have to lose? It was fucking Valentine's Day, of all days, and your stare on the back of his head in detention was burning holes through his skull.

"Now, why on God's green Earth would your fellow student do that? You got a bug up your ass, Munson?"

"Maybe. There's definitely something up there, sir. Wanna check?"

The old man before him nearly had an aneurysm. Exactly what Eddie wanted. He didn't even need to turn his head to see your reaction, he could literally hear you fidgeting in your chair, picking at your fingers.

 "Munson! Out, now. Let's go, tough guy." Eulin stood up, pointing at the door.

Faking reluctance, Eddie also rose from his desk. All of the students in the room were focused on him now. Honestly, he just wanted an excuse to get the fuck out of the same room that you were in.

Before leaving the classroom, Eddie balled up the paper on his desk and chucked it at you. It hit your chest, making you jump, but you still refused to look him in the eye.

In the hallway, Eulin still had his index finger out, this time in Eddie's face.

"You think you're untouchable, don't you?"

Eddie leaned against the locker behind him and didn't respond. He turned his head away from the educational professional trying to verbally assault him.

"Munson. Listen up. You're going to end up just like your father. Doesn't surprise me one bit that you're in detention every other week these days. I would shoot myself in the foot before I'd believe you would graduate."

Inching closer to Eddie, Eulin's face began to redden. At the close proximity, Eddie visibly flinched, resisting the urge to bitch slap the man with a fat finger too close to his face.

"You are the scum of Hawkins."

☾

"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile "You don't have to love me yet, let's get high awhile But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand, I'm a magic man"

☾

The classroom door was already open, but you slammed it against the wall anyways.

"Fuck you, Eulin."

Taking a step back from the brown eyed boy on the lockers, Eulin was stunned to see another one of his students beginning to cause a scene.

"Girl, you better get back in the-"

You laughed rudely, immediately interrupting him. "You think I'm going to let you talk to him like that?"

"What's going on here? Buckley, get back in that classroom," Eulin choked out.

Eddie stared unabashedly at you. One hand was clenched in a fist, ready to go down swinging at his teacher's harsh words. His other hand rose to his own mouth in shock.

But you ignored Eddie's presence, as usual. You just hounded Eulin.

"Sir, I'm not going back in there." 

Your words were polite on paper, but the tone of your voice was the exact opposite. Eulin seemed as speechless as Eddie. 

A few seconds of stuttering, and Eulin finally found a comeback. "Buckley, don't you dare get involved in this. Don't be a failure like Munson."

Eddie audibly gasped as you actually spit in the teacher's face, saliva dripping down Eulin's cheek.

"Fuck. You." 

And then you were gone, rushing down the hallway towards the doors leading outside.

☾

Winter nights we sang in tune Played inside the months of moon "Never think of never let this spell last forever" Well, summer lover passed to fall Tried to realize it all Mama says she's worried, growing up in a hurry

☾

"Buckley! Buckley! Helloooo, feral woman on the loose!" 

Eddie ran after you, abandoning detention, abandoning Eulin standing dumbstruck in the hallway. He finally caught up with you as you made your way through the parking lot, your hair flying in the frosty wind.

"Hey!" he touched your shoulder, trying to slow you down. "Will you talk to me?"

You shrugged his hand off and kept walking. "What's there to talk about? Eulin's an asshole. End of story."

"Oh, sunshine, I think there's a lot that needs to be discussed between us."

"No idea what you're rambling on about," you mumbled.

"You gonna ignore me for another two months?"

You almost paused for a second. Eddie knew your mind was racing, he could see how tensed your muscles were as you stormed past the parked cars. 

Eddie continued to poke at your temper. "Where are you even going? You don't have a car, you don't have a license. You don't even know how to drive!"

Turning on him in a flash, the look in your eyes made Eddie stop in his tracks. 

"Maybe I'd know how to drive if you actually taught me like you said you would!"

Eddie snorted. "C'mon, now. That's not what this is about. People don't just spit on teachers because they're butt hurt about not being able to drive."

You threw your hands in the air, let out a frustrated laugh, and stomped away. "You're the one who brought up the license thing! You're such an infuriating creature."

But Eddie was surprised to see you stop right at his van, which was parked at the back of the lot. You sat on the rear bumper.

Now it was his turn to be dumbstruck. 

"Happy Valentine's Day, Eddie," you exclaimed sarcastically. "Take me home, will you?"

☾

"Come on home, girl" he said with a smile "I cast my spell of love on you, a woman from a child" But try to understand, try to understand Oh, oh, try, try, try to understand, He's a magic man, oh, he's got the magic hands

☾

Instead of taking you back to your own house, Eddie drove towards Forest Hills trailer park. He knew that you were confused, but you remained silent in his passenger seat the entire drive, peeling some paint off the trim of the door.

The van came to an abrupt halt in the grassy area of his uncle's trailer. Eddie could see a few small kids running around the other homes, screaming and playing.

He was struck with nostalgia from his childhood, back when things weren't complicated by a doomed future and unruly hormones and a drunk father in jail for dealing drugs.

"Why'd you bring me here?" you uttered quietly, ripping him from his tortured thoughts.

"This is my home now, Buckley. If you would have been a good friend the last couple months, you'd know I moved in with my uncle a little sooner than I anticipated."

Eddie didn't try to hide the bitterness in his voice. He wanted you to know how hurt he was. Before you could get a word in, he snapped on you.

"Did you even think about checking on me when my dad went to jail? The whole damn town was talking about it. I'm really living up to the infamous Munson name, aren't I? I'm a pariah, a phenomenon."

You chewed on your lip, staring heatedly out of the window. "Of course I thought about you."

Gripping the steering wheel, he was seething. "So why have you been ignoring me? You act like New Year's never happened. So help me God, if you don't answer-"

"You know why I was in detention?"

Distracted, Eddie's leg bobbed with anxiety. "No, but you've piqued my interest."

"Eulin caught me trying to put something in your locker this morning."

"Something? What something? Why would that land you in detention?"

You huffed. "A letter. And I got detention because I wouldn't give it to him."

Eddie thought for a moment and laid his hand out dramatically. "May I have my letter, then?" 

You gently slapped his outstretched palm away from you.

"No," you replied offhandedly. "I tossed it."

He rolled his big brown eyes and opened the driver's side door, hopping out. The snow crunching underneath his boots was harsh. The cold air filled his lungs, forcing his nerves to calm and bringing him back to some kind of reality.

Walking around to the passenger side, he opened your door for you. 

"Come inside, then. I can make us some hot chocolate."

☾

But try to understand, try to understand Try, try, try to understand, he's a magic man

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Magic Man" by Heart)

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[bluegalaxygirl]

Old Friends (Zosan X reader) P1

Plot: Reader is the 9th doctors old assistant but soon moved on to other things, joining the straw hat pirates and falling in love but now their paths cross again (only he has a new face, 10th Doctor) when they go to see an old friend in a strange hospital. Unfortunately there's some one else there that wants to start trouble.

One piece and Doctor who cross over (10th doctor), its based off the new earth episode. i thought since David tenant as the doctor is coming back in November it would be good to get this idea out.

Reader is Female (Sorry), Zoro X Sanji X reader, Poly relationship, established relationship.

Warning: Illness, Death, Bad language and Making out.

P2 - P3 - P4 - P5 - P6 - P7 - P8 - P9 - P10 - P11 - P12 - P13 - P14 - P15

You curse yourself for sleeping in, its already being lunch by the time your up and dressed, you usually stay up late and go to bed with Sanji at one or two in the morning but last night you forced yourself to stay awake longer. Zoro dragging you to bed at almost five in the morning when you hand't come to bed yet. Your job on the ship was the astronomer, Studying stars, planets, moons, comets and galaxies while helping Nami navigate at night and create maps. You loved your job it was always a passion of yours since you were little but after meeting the doctor and travailing through space and time you fell deeper in love with the universe and its wonders. Last night Jupiter was on full display and you couldn't pass up the opportunity to study it with your telescope and writing everything you could down in your notebook. Walking into the kitchen you find everyone eating and Sanji cooking "Good morning my love" your cook calls out with a smile preparing a bowl for you "Good afternoon Hun" you smile back greeting one of your lovers before taking a seat next to Robin at the end of the table. Zoro looks up at you form his spot across form Robin giving you a small smile "Good afternoon sleeping beauty" he laughs a little sipping on his drink teasing you a little. "I got fed up waiting for my prince charming" you tease back giving him a cheeky smile which he laughs at. Sanji places a bowl in front of you and places a kiss on your temple "I'm sorry my love. if i knew I'd come running to your rescue" the blonde smiles making you laugh as you watch him make his way back to the kitchen. "So how was it?" Robin asks next to you turning her attention away form Chopper hoping to hear about Jupiter. After taking a spoon full of food you hand your notebook to Robin who eagerly takes it and starts looking through "It was amazing and i also managed to see four of its moons" you smile before going back to your food as the black haired woman looks over the pages seeing your writing, mathematics and sketches. Chopper leans over to his eyes lighting up at the pages "Wow its so pretty, how far away is it? your drawings so clear" The reindeer asks amazed at how detailed your drawing is "Oh well its easier to see with a telescope but form here it would be" you think for a moment tapping your chin "Over 595 million km away" Choppers eyes widen and Nami almost chocks on her food "What?" the two ask making you laugh at their bewildered faces.

After you've finished Sanji finally sits down across form you as Robin hands your book back "Thank you Y/n and i'm sorry i missed it" The black haired woman smiles at you as you place the book back in your side bag "It's ok, the star sign Virgo will be seen this month and i think Saturn is due at the end of the month although it won't be as close as Jupiter was this year but there's a lot to see" you ponder realizing your going to have a lot of late nights ahead of you this month. A pecking sound tapped against the kitchen door catching everyone's attention all the crew turning to the door and waiting for the sound again, Zoro placing a hand on his swords ready to fight if need be but then there was a squawk everyone relaxed letting out a sigh realizing it was just the mail bird. "The papers already been delivered. What does he want?" Nami sighs getting up form her seat and walking over to the door, opening it the navigator looks down at the mail bird with an angry look "What?" Nami sighs the bird digging into its bag and pulling out a letter "Oh thank you" Nami smiles no longer angry but as she goes to grab it the bird pulls it away flapping its wings at her "Hay, give it" She yells going to grab it again but the bird moves away again, Sanji stands up and walking over to the door putting a hand on Nami's shoulder to try and clam her down "What's wrong?" the cook asks looking down at the bird whose now much calmer with Nami not trying to grab the letter. "He has mail for us but won't had it over" at the navigators words the bird squawks again and holds the letter up showing the name on it along with big red letters at the top saying "Urgent" and on the bottom in the same red it said "Must be signed for". Nami sighs and steps aside letting the bird in before going back to her seat "It's for you" she points back at the bird as she heads to her seat. You raise an eyebrow at her and look to the door seeing the bird walk in and over to you.

Sanji walks behind the bird as it walks up next to you looking up at you from the floor and handing you the letter "Thank you" you smile taking it off the bird and placing it on your lap so you can sign its clip board. "What does it say?" Luffy yells out Nami forcing him back down into his seat while some of the others laugh. The bird bows to you and walks out Sanji closing the door behind it and walking back to his seat. "That was weird" The blonde comments lighting a cigarette and leaning back in his chair blowing out the smoke. "Its fancy though" Zoro laughs as you hold up the envelope, turning it around to see what he means, gold seal. You pop it open and take out the letter but as you pull out the folded letter you notice the name, Evergreen Days, a hospital on this planet run by aliens, not even the government knows about it since its protected by powerful beings. It's also well hidden, shielded by a dome that makes it invisible and if you touch it without having a pass it'll push you out the other side making it seem like you glided right through. Your heart sank and it showed on your face, there are only a hand full of people who would send you a letter from that place, all of them where friend's you've met over the years of working with the doctor and the only reason they would send a letter from that place would be is they were dying. The hospital is known for being able to cure everything and anything other than old age and Death.

Robin places a hand on your shoulder "something wrong?" she asks seeing your sad face looking over the unfolded letter, you nod taking a breath before unfolding it and reading through it. Robin pulls away as not to look at the letter feeling it best to give you some privacy, the others stay quiet but Brook, Nami, Sanji and Zoro watch you close knowing the look on your face, someone is dead or dying and all they can do is watch as your eyes scan the letter. You pull off the button on the bottom of the page before putting the letter back in its envelope, the name on the paper surprised you, the face of Boe was dying, and he had asked for you to come and see him in his last moments. You try and hold yourself together but its hard when your so close with him, you don't even know his real name at yet you have a connection with the giant head. Taking a breath and wiping a stray tear away you look up form your lap, Robin places a hand on your shoulder as Sanji reaches over the table to take your hand which you reach out to hold. "Can we help?" Luffy's words made you look to the other end of the table at him seeing his concerned face, you give him a small smile and nod "Yea... i guess there's a lot i need to explain but.. An old friend is dying, and he's asked me to come see him" you answer Luffy nodding and standing determined to help his crew mate "Alright lets go then" The captain looks at Nami who nods at him and stands up too "Where is it?" the navigator asks walking around the table to you. "it's not a place you can find with a log post. You'll need this" you stand letting go of Sanji's hand as you hold up the small grey button in your fingers, the middle showing the hospital's symbol "Iv never seen that symbol before" Chopper leans over to look at it as Nami meets you at the end of the table looking it over in confusion. "Like i said there's a lot to explain and it's going to sound... like i'm crazy" you sigh placing the button on the table, you never thought your old life and new life would meet but now that it has you hope they will still accept you.

Pressing the symbol a small hologram pops up in a light blue glow showing a 3D map. A green dot on the map marks where your ship is in real time along with a red line leading to where the hospital is only stopping when it hits the hospital symbol. Nami's eyes widen as Luffy, Usopp and Chopper run over to your side of the table to get a better look. "What the fuck?" Zoro asks his eye wide as he stands up unable to believe what he's seeing "This is so cool" Chopper, Luffy and Franky yell with large smiles making you giggle feeling better about the situation. "I'll grab some stuff and then explain, please don't mess with it" you sigh mainly looking at Luffy and Franky who you know will want to mess with it so you slide it across to Robin who nods showing she will protect it. You walk out the kitchen and head to your shared room with the boys but now your away from the others you the tears you've been holding back form in your eyes. The face of Boe is one of your oldest and most dear friend, the two of you used to talk for hours about his life and the stars, he was always so kind to you and so wise. When ever you saw him it brought a smile to your face, he's always respectful and thoughtful. You think he doesn't have a bad bone in his massive head so the thought of losing him makes you break. As you enter the room and close the door behind you, the tears run down your face, the overwhelming feeling of sadness taking over while you lean against the end of the large bed. Uncontrollable sobs and gasps for air leave your lips as you legs start to give out making you sink to your knees, your forehead pressed against the bed frame.

The door behind you opens but you can't stop yourself from crying as hands go around you, pulling you away form the bad and into a broad chest. You let go of the bed to grip onto who ever is holding you, your eyes so blurry with tears you can't make out anything around you but odd shapes. Footsteps move around you to the bed and back someone leaning down next to you and placing a tissue to your cheeks wiping away the still falling tears that leave a salty taste in your mouth. The man holding you places his head onto of yours while his arms hold you tight rubbing of them up and down your arm "It's ok.. We're here baby" Zoro's voice is soothing and calm as he holds you slightly rocking you back and forth as you sit in his lap. Sanji scoots closer and rubs a hand up and down your back while pulling the now wet tissue away throwing it in the bin and grabbing another one. The two hold you close as you cry rubbing your arm and back letting you know there both there for you. It takes a while but you slowly start to calm down the tears stopping letting you see around you "That's it love, breath" Sanji soothes watching your jagged breathing start to get better and more even but your body and mind feel empty and numb as you lay in their arms.

Dried salty tears on your cheeks and lips, your eyes puffy and red as you look around the room trying to bring yourself back to earth. Your mouth is dry when you try to speak but your little hum gets their attention, Zoro looks down at you with a sympathetic look and brushes some hair out of your face while sanji pulls out another tissue wiping your cheeks "You back with us love?" Sanji asks as your eyes look over at him and your hand reaches up to take the tissue form him "Yea" you whisper, your voice almost like a husk due to your dry throat. Sanji gives you a small smile before getting up and grabbing a glass of water for you bringing it to your lips and helping you take a sip as your hands go around the cool glass. The water makes you feel a lot better but Sanji pulls it away not wanting you to drink it all at once. "Better?" Zoro asks running a hand through your hair to keep it out your face. "Yes thank you" you whisper your voice sounding more normal now as you try and sit up in the swordsman's arms. He gladly helps you keeping you on his lap one arm around your back while his other hand in on your knee, Sanji sits down next to you and runs his fingers over your red cheek "Do you want to talk?" The cook asks, hoping it will help in some way but you shake your head "No, i think i just needed this" you laugh a little leaning into Zoro and taking Sanji's hand feeling tired form all the crying "Thank you" you sigh as Sanji leans in and kisses your cheek while Zoro kisses your head "Anything for you" they both whisper against your skin letting you sit there for as long as you need.

They help you off the ground and take you to the bathroom so you can wash your face, they let you go in alone since you asked them to stay outside. Normally you could deal with this kind of thing all on your own, the doctor sometimes helped, but he was never that good with some emotions so it felt kinda awkward when he would comfort you. You were so thankful and lucky to have your crew around you, willing to help each other in any way and your two boys always seemed to know what you need. Picking the warm water up with your cups hands you splash it on your face and rub away the salty tears. Giving your face a good wash you look back into the mirror annoyed that you can't do anything about your puffy eyes, you sign and dry your face off. "You ok love?" Sanji calls form the other side of the door hearing you sighing made him a little concerned wondering if you were going to break down crying again. "I'm fine, Hun" you call back taking one last look in the mirror and fixing your hair before walking out the bathroom. Sanji opens his arms for you and you gladly step into his hug, with his arms around you he leans down placing a kiss on your head. "Thank you, both of you" you whisper pulling away to look up at the cook "I'm so lucky to have you two" you smile up looking over at Zoro who pushes off the wall he was leaning on to wrap his arms around you and Sanji.

You lean up a place a kiss on Sanji's lips, he hums a little and leans down into you moving his lips with yours as his hand runs up and down your back. You pull away and turn to Zoro who bends down and brushes his lips against your before places his lips on yours. You put a hand on his cheek and move your head a little to get a better angle on his lips, pulling away you rub your thumb over his lips which he kisses before you let go "Ready to go back?" Sanji asks as he lets you go along with Zoro "Yea but i need to grab something from our room first" you nod walking out the bathroom the two following close behind. Entering your shared room the boys wait by the open door as you go into the chest of draws, pulling open a secret hatch in the back you pull out a box with a pad lock on it before close it all and heading to your side table grabbing a pair of small keys. "Is that?" Zoro asks remembering when you first joined the crew you brought along a box. No matter how many times a member of the crew asked you would never open it or talk about it. Nami was good at finding hidden things but you always managed to hid it somehow. "Yep" you smile walking up to them both their eyes locked on the box before stepping aside to let you pass.

[blueskrugs]

come back...be here | Chris Kreider

I don't think this can really count as demi's birthday bingo anymore but it was written with that intent so happy extremely belated bday @wyattjohnston. my life got flipped on its axis this summer, but i think I'm finally settling in again, and I did promise this fic. it's only a few months late... length: 6.6k words

This is falling in love in the cruelest way This is falling for you when you're worlds away

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. It wasn’t supposed to start this way, either. 

What started as a fun summer fling turned into so much more before going down in flames. 

Eleanor Cross was launched to international superstardom after being cast as the lead in a BBC miniseries. With her face splashed across every social media site and tabloid and desperate for one last normal summer, Eleanor trades the UK for New England. 

Eleanor is on a run in Scalzi Park—and ignoring increasingly insistent phone calls from her agent—when she meets Chris for the first time. Really, she meets Chris’s dog for the first time, when Chris passes her in the other direction and his German shepherd happily tugs across the trail towards Eleanor. She startles to a stop. 

The man holding the dog’s leash stops, too, yanking out his headphones. His dog sits, tongue lolling out. Eleanor can’t help but giggle.

“I’m sorry,” the man says. “He gets excited when he sees other people running, I’m trying to work on it.” The dog holds up a paw, and Eleanor shakes it obligingly. The dog’s owner chuckles. “Chewie says hi."

“It’s very nice to meet you, Chewie,” Eleanor says. “And—?” she trails off, looking expectantly up at the man. 

“Oh, Chris,” the man—Chris—says. He extends his hand as well. Eleanor straightens back up to shake it. 

“I’m Eleanor,” she says. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?” Chris says.

Eleanor laughs. “Did the accent give me away?” When Chris grins and nods, she continues. “I’m just here on holiday,” she says. Here as long as she can escape the clutches of her agent, avoid signing her life away on whatever new contract they’ve negotiated for her. 

“Well, I’d, uh, love to show you around some,” Chris says. “Only if you want, of course,” he adds, flustered. 

Eleanor finds herself smiling. “I would like that, actually.” She doesn’t know anybody in Connecticut, and she’s found herself rather lonely, even though she’s only been in the States a little over a week. “Here, um,” she says. She unlocks her phone and hands it to Chris. “Text me, and we can get breakfast in the morning, or something.”

Chris beams at her. “That’d be amazing.”

Chris texts Eleanor the address to a coffee shop not far from the park, and that’s where they meet up for breakfast the next morning. He’s already waiting at a table in the crowded cafe when Eleanor steps in. She shoots him a smile and waves; Chris waves back over the rim of his coffee mug.

“Sorry I’m late,” Eleanor says as she finally slides into the seat across from Chris, coffee and pastry in hand. 

Chris shakes his head. “You’re not late, I’m just always early.” He sets his coffee back down. “What brings you to Connecticut, anyway?”

Eleanor sips her coffee and regards Chris. She bites her tongue before she says something like, “You must not watch much television.” Or have any social media. Eleanor’s “disappearance” has been everywhere since Couriers of Dusk became an online sensation—and since she missed a cast event and her agent couldn’t provide an excuse. That had been nearly two weeks ago. So far, no one in Connecticut has recognized her, although she’s mostly been holed up in her Airbnb with a stack of books since she landed. 

Instead she says, “Oh, just wanted to get away for a while, a change of scenery.” It’s close enough to the truth, anyway.

A year ago, Eleanor was a struggling actress, being told she was too old for the roles she wanted and too young for everything else, close to giving up entirely. Then she’d been cast in Couriers, and the internet and casting directors suddenly loved her. She still wasn’t sure how to handle all the new scrutiny. 

“And what about you?” Eleanor asks. “Are you from around here?”

Chris looks caught off guard by his own question being turned on him. He stalls and takes a sip of his coffee. “No, I’m from Boston.” Eleanor…vaguely knows where that is. “But I work in New York for most of the year, so this is sort of like a vacation for me, too.”

Eleanor tries to think of jobs that would allow someone to work only most of the year and be off in the summers. “Oh, are you a teacher?”

Chris blinks at Eleanor for a moment. “Uh, yeah. Of sorts.”  There’s a bit of a strange look on his face, but he doesn’t say anything further. He doesn’t ask any questions about Eleanor’s career, either, so she lets the subject drop, moving into safer conversation territory. 

They sit talking for so long that the morning rush ends, and the cafe tables around them empty. The dregs of Eleanor’s coffee have long since gone cold. Chris’ phone, mostly forgotten on the table next to them, vibrates suddenly with a text, then with another, startling them both. 

Chris breaks off a story he was telling about his dogs. “Sorry,” he says. He picks up the phone, and Eleanor watches as he reads his messages. He swears and stands up quickly. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot I had a meeting, and I’m late now.”

“Oh,” Eleanor says, standing up too. 

“Tomorrow?” Chris says. “I haven’t gotten the chance to actually show you around yet.”

“Sure, yeah,” Eleanor says. 

Chris is already rushing towards the door. He shoots her a dorky grin over his shoulder. “Same time, right here!” And then he’s out the door. 

True to his word, though, he’s waiting at the same table in the cafe when Eleanor walks in the next morning. They fall into a routine—coffee and breakfast before what Chris starts calling their “Roman Holiday adventures”: sometimes they just go for a walk in the park with one or both of Chris’ German shepherds, sometimes Chris has something else planned, like a trip to the aquarium, or the lighthouse, or whatever else he thinks is interesting in the area. Almost every afternoon, Chris disappears for a “meeting,” and it feels less and less like getting ditched each time it happens. 

It’s been nearly two weeks of their little routine before Chris changes things up. 

“How do you feel about taking a drive into the city today?” Chris asks. He’s waiting by the counter for Eleanor instead of at their table. “It’s a longer drive, but my afternoon is free today, so I figured we could go to some museums or something.”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted to go to The Met,” Eleanor says. 

Chris is grinning as he swings his car keys around his finger. “Excellent,” he says. The barista calls his name, and he grabs two coffees from her. “I already ordered your coffee, let’s go!” 

Eleanor can only laugh as Chris dashes out the door. He’s still waiting for her when she steps back outside, though, goofy grin still in place. He falls into step next to Eleanor.

“You know, I knew there was a reason we got along so well,” Chris says. He takes a drink of his coffee and winks at Eleanor.

“Oh, yeah?” she says.

“I’d spend all of my free time at a museum if I could,” Chris tells her. He leans in, lowers his voice as if he’s telling Eleanor a big secret.

She elbows him playfully. “I used to go to the National Gallery in London on my days off,” she admits. It’s gotten much harder to wander around London these days.

“See? Chris says. “A woman after my own heart.”

New York City turns out to be Chris and Eleanor’s first mistake. 

They’re so wrapped up in each other and the hours they spend walking through the museum that Eleanor never notices the paparazzi. They notice her, though, hiding around every corner with their cameras. 

Chris drops Eleanor off at her Airbnb later that night, after dinner and a long drive home. He walks her to the front door and everything. He looks nervous for the first time since Eleanor has met him. He runs a hand over the top of his head. His hair, which had been shorn short when they met, has started growing out into little waves; Eleanor’s finding that she quite likes the look. 

“Same time tomorrow morning?” Chris asks awkwardly.

Eleanor has nowhere else to be, and nowhere else she’d rather be, anyway. “Of course.”

“Uh, can I— is it okay if—” 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Eleanor says. She pulls Chris in for the kiss she knows he’s angling for. Eleanor’s hands are fisted in Chris’ shirt, just above his hips, but Chris flails for a moment, unsure of what to do with his hands. Finally, his hands settle on Eleanor’s shoulders. Chris is taller than Eleanor, and she has to pull away before her neck starts to hurt. “Better?” she asks.

“Elle, oh my God,” Chris says. Eleanor giggles. “I need to go before I do something really, really stupid. But tomorrow? Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eleanor says, still a little breathless. Chris steals another kiss before he runs back to his car. 

Eleanor watches as he pulls away before unlocking her front door and stepping inside. She pulls her phone out of her bag for the first time in hours, and finally sees all of the notifications on her screen. She peers at the top one—a tweet from TMZ.

“Oh, shit,” she says, slumping against her closed front door. 

There’s a magazine sitting on the table that Chris is sitting at when Eleanor reaches him the next morning. It’s sitting face-up, one of their paparazzi photos staring accusatorily up at Eleanor. She’s already seen it, and the half dozen others included in the spread—her agent had called her, and emailed her, and texted her with them before 7 AM. Eleanor and Chris holding hands walking into the museum, standing close in front of exhibits inside The Met, Chris’ arm around Eleanor’s shoulders as they stroll through Central Park in the early evening.

Chris has his arms crossed and is staring stonily at the magazine. Eleanor flips it over without looking at it.

“You’ve been lying to me, Elle,” Chris says.

Eleanor splutters. “I’ve lied? You told me you were a teacher! Not some hotshot professional athlete.”

Chris scoffs. “You’re the one who said I was a teacher—”

Eleanor rolls her eyes and cuts him off. “And you didn’t correct me!” They’re beginning to attract stares. Eleanor refuses to look around. She wonders how many cameras are pointed at them right now. “I’m leaving.” It’s Chris’ turn to splutter. Eleanor talks over him. “You can follow me, and we can talk, but I’m not fighting with you here.”

She scoops up her bag, her coffee and her croissant, walking out the front door of the cafe without bothering to wait and see if Chris is following her. 

He does follow, swearing under his breath while he collects his own coffee and that damn magazine. Eleanor keeps walking.

“Elle, wait,” he says. He reaches for Eleanor’s wrist, but she yanks it out of his reach. She still doesn’t stop walking. Chris huffs, still a half step behind her. “Can we start this conversation over?”

Eleanor turns and spins on her heel so quickly that Chris has to pull up short to avoid running into her. 

“I don’t know, Chris, it started out so strongly the first time.” Chris winces a little. “I especially liked the part where you called me a liar.” 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?” Chris asks softly. 

Eleanor laughs, and Chris looks stunned. “You’re not serious. Didn’t it occur to you that there might have been a reason I escaped to the States? I wanted a normal summer before I end up in whatever big contract they’ve found for me, and telling one of the only people who doesn’t already know who I am, ‘Oh, hey, by the way, I’m an actress, you might have seen my show,’ kinda ruins that.”

Chris looks a little sheepish now. “I, uh, don’t watch much TV,” he admits.

Eleanor laughs again. “I’ve gathered as much.” She pauses. “Why didn’t you tell me you played hockey?” she asks. “Isn’t it the exact same idea? How often do you meet someone who doesn't know who you are and doesn’t care?”

Chris shrugs. “Not very often, but more than you might think.”

“And what were you thinking, bringing me into the city where you play?” Eleanor asks, exasperated.

“I was thinking that I’m not usually tailed by paparazzi!” Chris sighs. “Can we try this again?” At Eleanor’s hesitation, Chris continues. “I’ll start. My name’s Chris, and I play for the New York Rangers.”

A woman walking down the street near them does a double take. Eleanor bursts out laughing.

“My name’s Eleanor, and I don’t know the first thing about hockey.” 

Chris grins at Eleanor. “Works for me.” He offers a hand to Eleanor. “Walk with me?” Eleanor doesn’t hesitate this time, taking Chris’ hand and letting him pull her along, pull her in close. “You know, now that I think about it,” Chris says as they walk, “I remember some of my teammates talking about your show earlier this year. I just never really got around to watching it.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Eleanor says.

Chris knocks his cup of coffee against Eleanor’s playfully. “So no dates to watch the show together with popcorn, got it.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Eleanor laughs. Then, “Wait, is that what this is?”

“What? Dating?” Chris asks. He shrugs, jostling Eleanor’s hand that he’s still holding. “I mean, yeah?” They walk a few more steps in silence. “Is—is that okay?”

Eleanor pretends to think about it. “I suppose it is.” She points the last bite of her croissant at Chris. “You better start taking me on more real dates, too, though. No more of this coffee shop bullshit.”

Chris pretends to look offended for a moment before he softens. “We can do whatever you want.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “We are continuing the coffee shop thing, though. I kinda like it."

They do continue the coffee shop thing, almost every single morning before Chris rushes off to whatever training session he has in the afternoon. They continue their other adventures, too, and the weeks pass in a blur of sunshine and laughter and Chris. A morning at the Maritime Aquarium. A hike up in Naugatuck State Forest that is much more Chris’ speed than Eleanor’s. A trip back into the city to wander around the Museum of Natural History, then another to go to the Bronx Zoo. Both of those trips land them squarely in the gossip news cycle for a week, but Eleanor finds that she doesn't mind too much.

Chris even invites Eleanor to his house for dinner a few times. Eleanor learns that Chris is a fantastic cook, and it’s also where they really get a chance to get to know each other. Safe from others overhearing their conversations, Eleanor asks Chris all kinds of questions about hockey and growing up in Boston, and Chris asks her about working as an actress and living in England. It’s nice—the way Chris’ eyes light up when he talks about his family, or the way he’s patient and doesn't laugh at Eleanor’s inane questions about hockey. 

They settle in to watch a movie most times, after they eat dinner, an empty bottle of wine sitting on the kitchen counter. Chris starts to tease Eleanor about watching Couriers of Dusk, but those taunts end quickly when Eleanor threatens to turn on YouTube videos of Chris’ highlights instead. 

Those movie nights only devolve into making out once or twice.

Chris changes their routine up on  Eleanor in late July. Another month of Eleanor ignoring texts, phone calls and emails from her agent, trying her best to ignore the fact that her summer is dwindling. 

Meet me at my house in the morning, Chris texts one evening.

He refuses to answer any of Eleanor’s further questions, so she arrives at his house the next morning utterly clueless as to what he’s planned.

Chris is waiting for her at the front door. He’s in the middle of shooing someone who must be a younger teammate out the door—the Rangers shirt is a dead giveaway—but he waves when he sees Eleanor. The other man winks at Eleanor as they pass on the front walk, but he doesn’t stop to chat. 

Eleanor doesn’t even get to ask before Chris is saying, “Teammate. He came by to work out this morning.” He leans down for a quick kiss. One of the dogs barks excitedly from inside—Eleanor is pretty sure it’s Binks—but Chris pulls the door shut behind him. “You ready to go?”

Eleanor raises an eyebrow at him. “Ready to go where, exactly?” she asks. She lets Chris take her hand and guide her to his car. 

“You have to go to Coney Island,” Chris says. He opens Eleanor’s car door for her and steals another kiss as she ducks into the passenger seat. 

“Oh, I have to, huh?” Eleanor echoes once Chris is also in the car. All she knows about Coney Island is from that Taylor Swift song. “And why is that?”

Chris shrugs, half-focused on backing out of his driveway. ‘’It’s just one of those places everyone should get to go to.” At Eleanor’s skeptical look, he adds, “We’ll ride the Ferris Wheel and walk the Pier, I promise it’ll be fun.”

Eleanor still isn’t quite sure she believes him, but she settles in for the now-familiar drive into the city. Chris doesn’t even complain when she picks up his phone to fiddle with the music playing over his Bluetooth.

“I don’t know the last time I had this much fun,” Eleanor admits breathlessly hours later, spinning into Chris’ side as the sun begins to dip. 

Chris chuckles and steadies Eleanor with a hand around her waist. “Worth it after all?” he teases.

Eleanor tips her chin up for a kiss. Chris obliges with a soft smile. “More than,” Eleanor says quietly when they part. “Truly, I don’t know the last time I’ve had a day like this.”

She had spent the better part of the last year and a half filming the two seasons of Couriers, and she certainly had not had the freedom or luxury of spending a day gallivanting around. And gallivant they had: they’d done everything from wander the shops to riding the Ferris Wheel to racing each other in go-karts and teeing off in a round of mini golf. Chris is sunburnt across his nose, and Eleanor is absolutely exhausted.

She can’t remember the last time she was this happy.

Chris leads Eleanor down the boardwalk and onto the beach. Eleanor munches on the edge of her ice cream cone, thoughtful. It’s not late enough that the beach is empty yet, though the families dotting the sand have grown sparse. Eleanor simply slips her hand into Chris’ and tangles their fingers together. They continue walking until they reach an empty section of beach. 

Eleanor drops Chris’ hand and dashes forward until the dark water washes over her toes. It’s cold, even this far into summer, and Eleanor shivers. She glances back over her shoulder at Chris. He’s settled into the sand a few paces back, watching Eleanor with a smile on his face. Eleanor shivers again.

“C’mere,” Chris calls softly. Eleanor doesn’t need any convincing. She steps back up the beach and sits in the sand next to Chris. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and Eleanor leans into him. 

It’s darker now, and quiet all along the beach. Eleanor hates to break the silence.

“My agent has another job lined up for me,” she whispers. She doesn’t look up into Chris’ face.

Chris squeezes her shoulders. “Elle, that’s great.” Eleanor hums noncommittally. When she doesn’t say anything further, Chris asks hesitantly, “Isn’t it?”

It’s supposed to be great. She’s booked for a lead in some new movie franchise that’s supposed to be a blockbuster. Eleanor should be ecstatic. But, “I’m not ready to leave.” 

She’s certain she’ll be on the next flight back to London as soon as she stops dodging her agent’s calls and accepts the role. 

“Oh,” Chris says.

Eleanor can’t help but laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah, oh.”

They haven’t ever talked about it—the future, what happens when the summer’s over—but Eleanor isn’t kidding herself. There is no future; this relationship has always had an expiration date. Chris doesn’t say anything.

They sit in silence for a little longer, listening to the waves coming in. Eleanor eventually flops backwards into the sand, stretching her arms out above her head. The sky is dark, only a few stars visible between scattered clouds. Chris shifts, too, turning and propping himself up on one elbow. His other hand brushes the exposed skin of Eleanor’s stomach. 

“Do you think I could sleep here?” Eleanor asks.

Chris wrinkles his nose. “I’d advise against it.” His fingertips wander higher, brushing against her ribs. Eleanor squirms and giggles breathlessly. She watches as Chris’ eyebrows shoot up. “Elle, are you ticklish?” he asks. 

Eleanor tries to tug her shirt back down, shoves uselessly at Chris’ hand. It’s too late; Chris has discovered a weakness, and even in the dark, Eleanor can see his wicked grin.

Eleanor stifles a shriek as Chris straddles her, but she does yell a little when his fingers dig into her ribs. She squirms again, even as Chris kisses her quiet. He forgets that he’s supposed to be tickling Eleanor, instead turning the kiss slow and deep. His hands grip Eleanor’s sides. Eleanor sighs into the kiss and melts into the sand.

She doesn’t know how long they’ve been lying there when Chris pulls away. He doesn’t go far, brushing his nose against Eleanor’s as she tries to catch her breath.

“Elle,” Chris gasps. “I think I’m in love with you.” His hands slip underneath Eleanor’s shirt again. She doesn’t try to push them away.

Eleanor doesn’t say anything foolish like, “I think I love you, too.” She slides a hand around the back of Chris’ neck and pulls him back down for another kiss. It’s answer enough for now. 

They stay like that for several more long minutes, lost in each other. Chris’ hands keep exploring Eleanor’s body—along her ribs, over the cups of her bra, down her stomach—leaving goosebumps in their wake. There’s an unspoken question there, and Eleanor sits up, lets Chris pull her shirt over her head.

When she realizes he’s caught staring, she knees him gently in the side. “Chris,” she says softly. “Take me home.”

Chris shakes himself and gets off of Eleanor. He brushes the sand off his knees before offering a hand to Eleanor. He pulls her close for another lingering kiss once she’s standing, the hand not holding her shirt sliding around the small of her back.

Eleanor makes a face as she tries to shake the sand out of her hair. Chris only laughs at her.

“Can I have my shirt back? Please?” she asks.

Chris holds it out of her reach. “For another kiss.”

Eleanor rolls her eyes and tugs Chris down for a kiss. He hands her her shirt back with a smirk. She rolls her eyes again as she shakes it out and pulls it over her head. “Because you haven’t already had enough kisses.”

Chris offers her a hand. “Thought you said something about taking you home.”

Eleanor takes his hand and lets herself be pulled back towards the boardwalk. 

Chris keeps an apartment in the city. He’d explained it once, a few weeks back, that it's much easier during the season to be closer to games and practices. Eleanor is thankful for it now. She’s not sure she could bear the long drive back to Connecticut with Chris’ hand burning on her thigh. Not to mention the sand in unsavory places at the moment. Chris may have been right about not sleeping on the beach. 

Chris all but drags Eleanor through his building lobby, into the elevator, to his front door. Eleanor doesn’t even get to pause and take in the lavish apartment building Chris lives in, too busy being intermittently led by the hand and pressed up against the nearest wall for a make-out break. It’s a wonder they make it through the front door with either of them still clothed.

Chris is already tugging at Eleanor’s shirt again as they stumble down the hallway. It’s dark in the apartment, and Eleanor swears when she stubs her toe on something. It’s enough to get Chris to pause and flip a few light switches.

He looks sheepish, flushed and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, got kinda carried away, I guess.”

Eleanor reaches to reel him back in. “I don’t remember telling you to slow down.”

They make it to the bedroom without further incident, and after that everything passes in a haze of carelessly strewn clothes and Chris’ hands on her bare skin.  

She wakes in the morning with a jolt. It’s full daylight outside Chris’ windows, and the twisted sheets on the other side of the bed are empty. Eleanor’s phone must have died some time in the night, and she fishes it from her bag, mixed up in the pile of her clothes. She plugs it into the charger on Chris’ side of the bed, leaves it to turn back on.

There’s a sick feeling in Eleanor’s stomach that she can’t place as she pulls one of Chris’ shirts on and treads carefully down the hall. She half-fears finding the rest of the apartment empty—Chris gone, leaving Eleanor to find her way back to Connecticut on her own. 

She breathes a sigh of relief when she rounds the corner and finds Chris sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, but that relief dissipates fast when she sees the furrow between Chris’ eyebrows.

“What’s wrong? Has something happened?” she asks, rushing over to Chris.

His face brightens for a moment when he notices her, but it darkens again quickly. He swivels on his stool to allow Eleanor to step between his legs, absently leans in for a kiss. One of his hands wraps around Eleanor’s hip.

“Chris, you’re worrying me,” Eleanor says again.

That’s when she sees Chris’ phone, unlocked and face-up on the counter. When she sees her own photo staring back at her—shirtless on the beach with Chris the night before.

“I swear I had no idea,” Chris says. “I thought we were alone, I wouldn’t have—”

“Chris, it’s—” Well, it’s not exactly fine, is it, Eleanor thinks. “I know,” is what she says instead. “I have to—” Her phone, still in the bedroom. She runs back down the hall to it, collapsing on the bed. Her screen is flooded with notifications—her agent, her mother, her social media accounts.

She frantically swipes through them. Demands for Eleanor to call her agent. Links to the photos, in case she missed what all the fuss was about. Half-joking, half-scandalized messages from school friends and former co-stars. More irate messages from her agent, and four missed calls.

A one-way flight ticket back to London, dated for the day after next. 

Eleanor swears under her breath again. Chris has made his own way down the hallway and is leaning against the doorframe, watching Eleanor nervously. 

“Is everything okay?” he asks. Eleanor gives him a flat look. Chris grimaces and sits carefully on the bed next to Eleanor, rubbing her back.

It’s comforting, actually, and Eleanor lets herself lean into it for a moment before she says, “We need to get back to Connecticut.” She has to stop herself from calling Connecticut home. It’s certainly begun to feel that way after the last few months with Chris. 

But it could never be home. Eleanor has always been running away from her life in London. She just couldn’t run fast enough this time. 

Chris looks like he wants to argue, like he’d rather hide in his condo until this whole mess blows over and the gossip cycle moves on, but he just nods.

They hadn’t really been in the condo long enough to make much mess, but Chris makes the bed and Eleanor idly tidies the rest of the room. They’re both stalling. 

“Shall we?” Eleanor asks at last, when there’s nothing left to pretend to pick up. Chris takes her offered hand without a word.

Neither of them say much of anything on the long drive back to Connecticut. Chris offers to pick up breakfast sandwiches, but Eleanor’s not sure she can stomach anything right now. They keep driving. Chris holds Eleanor’s hand across the console as he drives, some audiobook playing lowly over his car’s Bluetooth. 

When Chris pulls up in front of Eleanor’s Airbnb, neither of them move to get out. The clock on the dashboard taunts Eleanor, reminds her that she’s out of time. This stolen summer has been stolen from her. After a few long minutes, Chris sighs and turns off his car. He opens the door and climbs out, and Eleanor clambers to open her door and follow Chris up the front walk. 

He waits patiently while Eleanor fumbles with her keys and tries to unlock the front door. He grabs at Eleanor’s arm before she can push the door open and step inside. She turns, tries to memorize his face, the way he looks at her.

When Chris kisses her, it’s gentle, one hand cupping her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. Eleanor clutches at Chris, his wrist, his hip, the back of his neck. She’d turn the kiss desperate, funnel every emotion she feels into it—frustration, longing, love— but Chris gentles her every time she tries. Finally—too soon—Chris pulls away with a sigh. Eleanor’s eyes burn suddenly with tears she refuses to let fall.

Chris opens his mouth to say something.

“Don’t,” Eleanor says first, afraid she already knows what he’s about to say.

Chris ignores her. “I love you, Elle.”

“You’re not supposed to say that,” she says. “Please don’t say that.”

Chris smiles ruefully. “I know,” he says. 

“I wish this were different,” Eleanor says. She’s not sure what else to say. In another lifetime, maybe it could be different.

“I know,” Chris says again.

Eleanor’s phone starts ringing suddenly. She chances a glance at the screen; it’s her agent again, surely checking to make sure Eleanor is getting ready to head to the airport.

“I need—”

“Yeah, of course,” Chris says.

Eleanor pushes the front door open at last. She doesn’t watch as Chris walks back to his car and drives away.

Eleanor didn’t bring much with her on her escape to the States, and it doesn’t take more than a few hours to shove her meager belongings back in her suitcases. She finds traces of Chris all around her little house. A book she bought on a date. A Rangers sweatshirt she doesn’t even remember stealing. A museum map. 

She considers leaving it all behind, the way she’s leaving Chris behind. In the end, it all ends up carefully packed away amongst her clothes. 

In the morning, Eleanor flies into Heathrow. Her agent meets her at the gate. She lectures Eleanor the entire way through baggage claim and into the back of a cab, waiting to take Eleanor back to her flat. There’s a stack of papers and a pen thrust into her hand—the contract for the new films her agent has booked her. She’d read it on her laptop the night before, along with a few pages of the script. She signs without looking any closer now. 

By all means, Eleanor should be excited. She can’t muster up any passion for anything right now. 

She’s given strict instructions to “forget that stupid boy.” Eleanor doesn’t bother protesting that Chris is neither stupid nor just a boy, or that she probably won’t ever forget Chris and the most perfect summer she spent with him.

Before they’ve reached her flat, Eleanor’s phone begins to blow up again. News of her new contract must have hit Twitter. She turns her phone off and shoves it deep in her purse.

When Eleanor finally turns her phone back on before bed and sifts through all of her messages, there aren’t any from Chris. She guesses she shouldn’t be surprised, but she’s still disappointed. She’s not supposed to talk to him anymore, not supposed to be in love, she reminds herself, tossing her phone to the other side of the bed. It slides across the sheets and hits the carpet with a dull thud. 

The next weeks pass in a blur. Eleanor meets her new co-star, Zach, the man her management will paint as her new boyfriend for the next several years. 

“So that you’ll forget that hockey player,” her agent tells her, yet again. “And maybe so will everyone else.” Eleanor just forces a smile and tries not to flinch when Zach takes her hand and they step outside. 

Filming starts; Eleanor never hears from Chris. She wears his Rangers sweatshirt into the studio one day, mostly by accident, and winds up in the gossip cycle for a week. She sees her own topless beach photos cross her timelines more than a few times. 

It all dies down—the hype for the films, the gossip around Eleanor’s relationship status—but Eleanor still misses Chris every day. As hockey season starts, Eleanor starts checking the Rangers’ social media accounts for glimpses of Chris. It just makes her more heartsick.

In January, they send Eleanor and a few of her co-stars to New York to do a bunch of press junkets. She considers texting Chris—a warning, a plea to meet up—on the flight over. She goes as far as opening up their long-since abandoned text thread and starts typing out a message. 

She never sends it. Instead, she falls asleep with her head on Zach’s shoulder and wakes up as they land in JFK to find that her agent had taken a picture of them and posted it to Eleanor’s own Instagram story. Eleanor takes a moment to be thankful that Chris doesn’t have any social media of his own. 

On the third day of their little press tour, Eleanor slips away in between sessions to find a coffee shop. It’s mid-morning, and the shop is quiet enough when Eleanor steps in that she feels calm for the first time in days. She breathes in the smell of fresh coffee and bagels and lets her guard down. 

She’s about to step up to the counter to order when someone bumps into her on their way out of the shop.

“Sorry—” Eleanor starts to say, at the same time as the man who bumped into her. Eleanor stops short. “Chris?”

The man does a double take. He hadn’t noticed Eleanor, but he’s gaping at her now, iced americano in one hand and bagel breakfast sandwich in the other. “Elle?” 

Someone clears their throat behind Eleanor. She still needs to order.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Chris says, already reaching for his wallet again. He sticks the sandwich in his mouth to dig it out of his pocket, and Eleanor stifles a giggle. Eleanor takes his coffee from him before he can drop something. They step up to the register together. “Vanilla or caramel?” Chris asks Eleanor.

“Uh, caramel,” Eleanor answers.

Chris turns back to the register and orders an iced caramel latte and cinnamon roll before Eleanor can say anything else. She follows Chris to the side to wait for her order.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” Eleanor asks. Chris seems to be in no hurry, casually taking his coffee back from Eleanor and leaning against the wall with his ankles crossed. 

“Huh? Oh, no, we just finished morning skate, and I wanted to pick up something to eat before heading home.”

Home, the apartment Chris keeps in the city. They must be nearby. Eleanor suppresses a shiver when she thinks about Chris’ hands on her body in that very apartment.  

She should probably be a little worried, she supposes, that some wayward paparazzi will come across her standing in this coffee shop, but she can’t really bring herself to care. She steps closer to Chris under the guise of getting out of the way of another patron, lets her elbow press against his. 

The barista calls Eleanor’s name, and she has to stop leaning against Chris to grab her coffee.

“What brings you to New York, anyway?” Chris asks. Eleanor’s sure he knows better, but she thinks he almost sounds hopeful as he carefully follows her out of the shop.

She doesn’t look at him as she says, “Press tour,” over her shoulder.

If Chris responds, it’s lost in the bustle of the street beside them. They stand awkwardly for a moment. Eleanor hates every second of it.

She wants nothing more than to pull Chris close and kiss him again, to hell with the media and her agent and anyone who sees. But she sighs and says, “I should get back, they’re going to be looking for me." She’s not sure when she was supposed to be back for the next media session, but she’s probably cutting it close. 

Chris smiles at Eleanor, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Which way are you going? I’ll walk with you, I have to head back to the Garden for my car.”

Eleanor points up the street, back from where she came. At least, she’s pretty sure that’s the direction she came from. She suspects Chris is just going to walk with her no matter which way she goes. Chris grins again, and this time it’s a little more real. 

They fall into step together. Eleanor chokes back the words that are burning her throat—I miss you, I wish you’d call, I think I’m still in love with you. Eventually, the building Eleanor’s supposed to be in comes back into view. 

“I could run away again,” Eleanor suggests, only half joking. Beside her, Chris laughs. They’re approaching the doors. It might be Eleanor’s last chance, so she steels herself and says, “I miss you, Chris.”

Chris stumbles like he missed a step. “Elle, you can’t say that.” He grips Eleanor above the elbow, steers her to the side. 

Eleanor suddenly feels defiant. “I can say whatever I want.” 

Chris rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t sting. Eleanor recognizes the fondness there. “And what are we supposed to do?” Chris asks. “They’ve got you in a relationship with your co-star now, and you’re across the ocean.”

Eleanor doesn’t ask how Chris knows the relationship with Zach is fake. “I miss talking to you.” 

Chris softens. “You can always call me, baby.”

“You’ve never called,” Eleanor argues. 

“I didn’t think you’d answer,” Chris admits. “But I miss you, too,” he adds. “I think even the dogs miss you.”

Eleanor laughs. If she wasn’t late before, she definitely is now. Fuck it, if she’s already going to be in trouble for being late, might as well make it worth it. It’s reckless and a little dumb, but Eleanor loops her arms around Chris’ shoulders and pulls him close to her for a kiss.

She catches Chris off-guard, but he responds quickly, the condensation from his iced coffee soaking into Eleanor’s shirt at the small of her back where Chris presses his hand. The kiss doesn’t last more than a few seconds, too long and not long enough. 

“I love you,” Eleanor whispers as she pulls away.

“I know,” Chris whispers back. He takes a step away. Eleanor itches to reach out to him again. “Goodbye, Elle,” he says, louder. 

“Eleanor!” someone yells from the front doors. It’s time to go.

Chris has already turned to walk away. 

Eleanor hopes no one can tell she’s been crying when she settles in front of the camera for her next interview.

[she-karev]

The Doppelganger (Maya x Carina Funny/Sweet Imagine)

Next Part Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of Four

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy/Station 19

Fancast: AJ Cook as Mia Knight, Matthew Gray Gubler as Spencer Knight

Ship: Maya Bishop and Carina DeLuca

AN: I decided in honor of Pride month I was gonna do one shots of Maya and Carina because they are goals and since Station 19 ended it’s up to us to keep the epic romance alive. Sign up to save Station 19 guys it’s too good of a show to end so soon. If not ABC then let another platform take it and run it. https://www.change.org/p/save-station-19

Summary: Carina has a patient who looks almost exactly like Maya and everybody except her can see it.

Words: 2134

June 06, 2023

Carina and Andrew stand by the OB station waiting for their chief resident to present their patient. In honor of Pride month Carina has an iron on bisexual heart and a new progress pride flag embroidery patch on her white coat. Amber DeLuca nee Karev runs to her husband and sister-in-law with an apologetic look.

“Hey sorry I’m late I had to reassign Kwan. Apparently, Link is feeling nice and decided to let him skip pre op notes which is good for Kwan’s studying but bad for my patience.”

“Which is none.” Andrew points out knowing his wife.

“Exactly.” Amber grabs a tablet, “So what do we got?”

Carina explains leading them down the hall, “Mia Knight 45 years old, 39 weeks pregnant, she and her husband came here from Los Angeles for a scheduled C-section.”

“Los Angeles?” Amber asks reading the chart, “It’s a long way for a C-section, is there an indication for prenatal conditions? And why do we need a general surgery attending?”

“Because 8 years ago after she gave birth to her second child there was a tear in her bladder that the OB missed 6 hours after childbirth.” Amber looks at Andrew in shock over this horrific story, “She wasn’t a priority until her BP was dropping and they did an ultrasound. When they got her into the O.R. she had free fluid everywhere it took two trauma guys just to find the source.”

“She almost died.” Carina adds clearly triggered due to being newly pregnant, “And when she got pregnant again, she went to three OB’s who recommended a scheduled C-section so that she wouldn’t risk tearing the scar internally. I went to med school with one of them and she sent them to me.”

“I don’t blame her for being cautious. I would be too if something like that happened to me after Lucy was born. Are there any complications so far?”

“None but she’s 45 so she’s at risk for more post-partum complications than she was 8 years ago.” Carina stops them outside the door, “Let’s make sure she knows we are gonna do our best to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

Carina opens the door and all three of them enter the room. Carina greets the couple with a smile while Amber and Andrew stand back in shock at what they see. Mia Knight is in bed reading a book over her gorging pregnant belly and when she looks up at them the couple can register that she looks just like Maya Bishop.

Mia puts the book down and turns to Carina, “Hi you must be the famous Carina I heard about. Dr. Lorenzo sings your praises.”

Carina smiles at that, “Oh that’s nice well I’m glad she sent you to me, I am here to deliver your baby safely and make sure you both get home. Where’s your husband?” Andrew and Amber look at Carina shocked she is acting so professional with a woman who could pull off as her wife.

Mia chuckles, “I told him this book was boring me, so he decided to go to the nearest store and get me a new standard romance. He’s been doting a lot. It was sweet at first but at some point, it got kind of annoying. I’m sure that’s the hormones talking.”

“He sounds devoted, I have a lot of patients whose husbands don’t even go in the delivery room. I think their afraid seeing their wives like that will ruin sex for them.”

Mia laughs while Amber and Andrew look at each other stumped. Amber mouths ‘Maya?’ and Andrew answers with a scared nod. Suddenly a man comes in with a Barnes and Noble bag.

“Hey sorry I’m late I was on the phone with your mom apparently Henry wants to spend the night with his friend and wanted to run it by me. Also, Phoenix wants to know if we can stop by the space needle and take a picture.”

Mia smiles, “Assuming I can fit in selfie mode by then. Spence this is our OB Dr. DeLuca, and this is the cavalry, doctors this is my husband, Spencer.”

Carina shakes his hand, “Hi Spencer you guys can call me Carina. So, Spencer what did you get the lady of the hour?”

He reaches in and takes out the books, “I got you a Colleen Hoover and a Nicholas Sparks if you feel like crying.”

Mia chuckles, “Spence I’m carrying a baby and I’m fat I’m always crying honey.”

“You look beautiful.” Spencer tells her for what no doubt feels like the 100th time causing her to kiss him on the lips. The sight of a clone of Maya kissing somebody else causes Amber and Andrew to stare too stunned to react. Carina turns to Amber and Andrew looking confused on why they look like they’re seeing a ghost.

“Dr. DeLuca?”

Both of them snap out of it and say at the same time, “Yeah.”

Mia catches on and looks amused, “Related?”

Carina points to them, “Brother and his wife, his wife who is supposed to be presenting.”

“Oh, wow three doctors in the family that’s gotta be a record.” Spencer chips in.

“Five actually my brother and his wife are also doctors here, yep a lot of us are connected, sometimes in very unexpected ways.” Andrew snorts under his breath with Carina looking at him confused. Amber clears her throat remembering where she is, “Mia Knight, 45, in today for a scheduled C-section and overnight observation.”

“And why is the C-section scheduled?” Carina asks.

“Due to a tear in her bladder after her last vaginal birth it’s safer to do it surgically that way it lowers the risks of opening old scars internally through labor. And because of her age she’s at risk for postpartum complications.”

“My age?” Mia asks Amber with an offended look. Andrew purses his lips and stands back not wanting to get in the middle of a showdown between his wife and a pregnant woman.

Amber looks up like she’s run into a knife, “Oh um…45 is young don’t get me wrong but for being pregnant it’s…it’s not…”

Mia breaks out into a smile and chuckles, “It’s okay I’m messing with you.” Amber exhales in relief and relaxes to Andrew’s amusement, “I know I’m no spring chicken that’s why I tossed the condoms out last year and here we are about to have a late in life baby.”

Spencer grins, “If you think I was shocked imagine our boys when they found out mom can still get pregnant. Henry is 13 and Phoenix is 8 so they know enough to be disgusted.”

Carina preps the ultrasound, “13 and 8, what are boys like at that age? I’m asking so there’s no surprises for me.”

Spencer helps Mia pull her gown open so they can do the ultrasound, “You have kids?”

“I have a son he’s 1 and my wife and I are pregnant.”

“Congratulations.” Mia exclaims as Carina puts the gel on her belly.

“Thank you. I’m asking because I want to be prepared for what happens down the road.”

“Oh, it’s the best.” Mia tells her with a smile, “They’re out of diapers and you can get them to wash your car for extra allowance money. It makes up for the teen hormones and them constantly saying ‘I am a grown up’. There’s always up and downs at every age, you just have to not lose your mind.”

Andrew chuckles, “It matters the most when their 2 our little girl is that age and she is an adorable monster.”

Amber grins, “Yeah she gets that from her father.” Andrew grins at Amber.

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” Carina waves the wand over the belly and the screen shows a fully developed baby boy, “The baby looks strong, fetal heartbeat is normal and he looks ready to kick out of there. Are you both excited for a third boy?”

Mia grins, “You know after we found out Phoenix’s sex we decided to try again after for a girl but then…” Mia looks tormented by her last birth causing her to cough, “I was fine with the life I had after and then when we found out we were pregnant again I didn’t care if it was a goat just as long as I would have a better experience than last time.”

“And we’re gonna give it to you.” Carina affectionately holds Mia’s arms for assurance causing Andrew and Amber to look at each other over her comforting her like she would comfort Maya, “We are here to listen and to help you deliver this baby safely and go back home safe and sound. I will do the C-Section with Dr. DeLuca there to help in case there’s any complications. Amber here will be monitoring you before and after and page us if there is an emergency.”

Spencer looks at Mia with worry, “Are you sure it’s not gonna happen again? Because I waited while she was in the O.R. with our sons and it was hell. I don’t want us to go through that again.”

Carina looks at them understanding, “I know you’re scared, and you have a right to be but this is not like last time. Fetal medicine has evolved and so has our standard of care. We have crash carts for emergencies, checklists, and nurses working around the clock. We will take of your wife and baby, okay?”

Spencer and Mia look slightly relaxed and look at each other for a moment before Mia nods and her husband turns to them, “Okay.”

“Okay.” Mia says with a shaky breath.

Carina wipes the gel off Mia’s belly, “Okay I will go and prep an O.R. for you, Amber here will monitor you and prep you when we’re ready to go. You got this Mia.”

Carina walks out of the room with Andrew while Amber stays behind to monitor Mia’s vitals, still being transfixed by the similarities between her and Maya. Carina connects the tablet to a keyboard and types in the latest updates to Mia’s chart with Andrew right next to her looking at her with a gaped mouth and raised eyebrow. Carina notices and looks up with a blank look.

“What?”

Andrew’s eyes widen at Carina’s obliviousness, “What? Were you in that room just a minute ago?” Carina looks at him still confused, “Do you really not see it right now?”

“See what? Did Lucy hit you on the head with a bottle this morning?”

Andrew chuckles, “I think the hormones are making you blind right now.”

Amber exits the room leaving the door open and goes to her husband and sister-in-law with a scared face, “Oh my god I am getting serious Vertigo vibes here, if she falls to her death in a bell tower, I will not be surprised.”

“Yes, thank you!” Andrew tells Amber.

Carina chuckles lightly, “What are you two talking about? Is this an American thing I don’t know about?”

“She doesn’t see it?”

Andrew scoffs, “I’m also questioning it trust me.”

“See what?” Carina asks frustrated that she is kept out of the loop.

Amber turns to Carina straight with the answer, “She looks exactly like your wife.”

Carina looks surprised, “Maya? You think she looks like Maya?”

“Yes!” They both say in a duh tone but Carina chuckles like it’s the most ridiculous thing.

“That is stupid they don’t look anything alike.”

“Carina they could be twins.”

Amber gasps, “Maybe they are, separated at birth it could have happened.”

Andrew nods seeing it plausible, “Maya’s dad is messed up enough to do that.”

“Well, you are both wrong. Mia is 10 years older than Maya and she was born in Fresno.” Carina looks at them both amused, “Just because she has blonde hair and blue eyes doesn’t mean her and Maya are alike. Amber is blonde with blue eyes, and she looks nothing like Maya.”

“You really don’t see it?” Amber asks incredulously, “How can you not see it? My blind aunt in Omaha can see it.”

Carina rolls her eyes already annoyed, “I have to go prep the O.R. and you should go back in there and monitor Mia, so she doesn’t have a traumatic birth experience again. Mia not Maya Amber. Keep me updated.” Carina walks away from her brother and sister-in-law who look baffled by Carina’s stubbornness.

Amber grabs a tablet before turning to her husband, “We are not crazy.”

“Nope and I am gonna prove it.” Andrew pulls out his phone, “I’ll send you a text so you can open the blinds.” Amber nods at the plan and quickly goes back inside the room while Andrew calls Maya so she can come and prove themselves right to Carina.

[man-moth-hook-hand]

Welcome to My Nighmare Ch. 2

Chapter 2 rewrite! I'm not dead! Just super busy lately.

2.7K

Master list

Chapter Two: Freaks

A man lay on his back on the porch. His head was partially disfigured by a large potted plant. Christ. Maybe this was my omen. 

“Dad?” Lucy made her way out of the old car towards her father. She didn’t seem as concerned as her two sons. “Dad?” She asked again. 

“If he’s dead, does that mean we get to go home?” Same snarked. I couldn’t understand how he was joking about his possibly dead grandfather. Lucy didn’t like it either as she gave him a disapproving look. 

The man shot up off the ground as if it was nothing. “Playin’ dead! And doing a damn good job of it, too.” Lucy and her father laughed off the encounter. 

“Why don’t you guys start unpacking some things, OK?” Lucy gestured to the old Toyota.

“So, you’re living with us now?” Michael pulled a box out of the flooring and handed it to me. It was heavy. 

“I guess so. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, I don’t plan to stay long–” I tried to explain but Micahel cut me off. 

“That’s ok, mom would do this stuff sometimes when we lived in Arizona. How long do you plan on staying?”

“Maybe a few months, it depends on what place will hire me and how hard it’ll be to get a car. I’m ok with sleeping on the floor at this point.” Michael and I headed out way into the log cabin style home. I enjoyed the windchimes and nicknacks that Lucy’s father decorated with. 

“It’ll be nice having someone else for Sam to bug.” Michael threw a large wicker sun hat on Sam. Sam flung his arm in Michael’s direction, barely missing his ribs. 

The house was nice. It had a large living room, a staircase to the right, a kitchen, sunroom, and something behind two large oak sliding doors. Everything was very. . . man-ish. Men always had the tendency to fill their house with the bare necessities, occasionally adding a spark here and there. Old man Emerson’s spark seemed to be dead animals. There was taxidermy and paintings of all kinds of animals in the house. It was kind of creepy. 

Michael and Sam bounced their way down the stairs almost knocking their mother over in the process. She called for them to stop running but they ignored her, stopping only in their tracks when they opened the mysterious sliding doors. I made my way over to see why the boys seemed so off. 

“Talk about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” Sam eyeballed everything in the small room. A red light showed over the taxidermy, creating a disgusting feeling in my stomach. I wasn't completely disturbed at the taxidermy room. I almost liked it. 

The boy’s grandfather appeared behind us. “Stay out of places you don’t belong!” He closed the double sliding doors. 

“Hey,” Lucy gestured for me to come towards her. “I’ll show you where you can stay. It's not much, but. . . “ She trailed off. Lucy led me up the stairs to the main hallway, taking a small detour to a tiny cut out. Two stairs trailed up to the almost equally small platform and a closed door. 

“I’m sure I’ll like it.” I reassured her. I thanked her and opened the door to my new room. It was more like an attic that got turned into a room, but I was content nonetheless. It had a twin sized bed, nightstand with lamp, dresser, and a trunk. It almost looked like an Army barrack, especially with the green bedding. If my arms were an extra foot long I’d be able to touch the walls. There were two framed windows, one one the opposite side of the door, and one to the right. Horses caught my eye.

I took my clothes out of my backpack, thankfully I had found a laundromat to wash them, and stuck them in the first drawer of the dresser. I placed my backpack and sunglasses on top. My new book went into the dresser. I noticed the amount of dust, I was going to have to ask Lucy about some cleaning supplies. 

After I had gotten some cleaning supplies, I went to work disinfecting the dust from the previous resident. Maybe it was Lucy, although this was a very masculine room. Mr. Emerson broke me out of my thought as he knocked on my door. I put down my cleaner and wipes to open the door for him. 

“Hey, hey,” he pulled something out from behind him. “I got something for ya, as a little house warming gift.” It was a taxidermied owl. It screeched in a fierce position. 

“Thank you.” I plucked it from his hands. “I’ll place it on the dresser.”

“Alright. If you need anything you just let me know.”

What an odd man, I thought. 

/|\^._.^/|\

Later that evening, Lucy invited me to the boardwalk. I clamored into the car with Sam and Michael, and Nanook came for some reason. I guess Sam just took him everywhere. It was pretty looking at the city coming into view. I had forgotten how pretty the night was. Once it hit sundown I had been sleeping and getting up when the sun woke me, but now I could enjoy it. 

The boardwalk was interesting. It was salty and intoxicating to say the least. It had a different feel to it. The light, the music, the people. . . everything felt so alive. It wasn’t like how it was during the day when kids rounded every corner and disgruntled parents gave you dirty looks. No, at night was when the real freaks came out. Goth kids, weird surfer guys, bikers, and way too many drunk people flooded every nook and cranny. It was like an infection that was consuming the boardwalk. It was intoxicating. 

I need a job. I needed one fast. Would anyone even be hiring? I searched the boardwalk desperately asking different shops to hire me. The surf shop, tattoo shop, burger place, and other various businesses stated that “they weren’t hiring,” which was utter bullshit. 

HELP DESPERATELY WANTED, WILL HIRE FELONS. 

Now that caught my eye. What puzzled me was the shop. It was a small jewelry store, not some bar or tattoo shop that I was expecting. I opened the door to be greeted by a young girl. 

“Hi! How can I help you?” She had silky long black hair and what some would consider too much blush. She placed her tan, freckled arms on the glass counter. 

“Uh, I actually need a job. I saw the help wanted sign outside, is there anyone I can talk to?”

“Yeah, let me go get Brenda, call her Ms. Chengey.” The teenager went to who I guessed was the shop owner. 

A woman who looked like a blonde Joan Craford weaved her way out of the bead curtain. She had dark purple eyeshadow and equally dark and purple lips. “I’m Ms. Brenda Cheney, I own this shop. Jennifer told me you want to work for me?” 

“Yes, ma’am Ms. Cheney,” I shook her bedazzled wrinkly hand. “When can I start?” It was a little bold, but I really needed this job. Plus, Ms. Cheney looked like a woman who liked boldness. 

“Well,” she smiled. “If you can, I'd like to see you here tomorrow. We just had someone quit.” Ms. Cheney smacked her gum. 

“Yes ma’am, what time?”

“9 o’clock, that's an hour before we open. Jennifer,” she put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Would you be willing to train her?”       

“Sure, what’s your name?” Jennifer asked. “And you can call me Jenny.”

“(Y/n). Nice to meet you Jenny.” I said. “So just be back here tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I can’t really train you until tomorrow since the busiest times are now. I’ll see you then!” She smiled with her delicate freckled face. 

I thanked her and decided to get something cheap to eat. I don’t really remember when that was. Frank’s Dogs greeted me with their very neon sign and very, very, drunk people. One guy’s hair looked like a cross between a rat's nest and its tail. 

“Can I just have a hotdog with ketchup and mustard?” I asked the 40-year-old man who looked like he wanted to kill me . . . or himself. 

“A dollar sixty-two” he held out his meaty hand. I gave him two bucks and let him keep the change. It wasn’t a great hot dog, but it was food. 

A group gathered not too far away, encircling someone on stage. Concerts seemed like a fun way to meet new people, but the pickpocketing and guys with too grabby hands always deterred me. Well, maybe this one time wouldn’t hurt. 

An oily man thrusted on stage ahead of me. He trusted his saxophone in the air wildly. It wasn't my favorite type of performance but he made it work. Everyone was jumping and thrashing their hair. Whoops and hollers encircled me and for the first time since leaving home I felt like I truly belonged. 

My eyes caught Sam and Michael not too far away, Micael was staring at something. It’s like he was entranced, I saw Sam try and shake him. I glanced to where he was looking and saw a thin, beautiful woman. She had delicate and sharp features, surrounded with a long dark curly maine. I see why he was transfixed, she was beautiful. 

“Hey,” a man next to me called. 

“Hi,” I said. 

“You like concerts?” He asked. He was a little bit taller than me with freckles and almost black silky hair. He was handsome, he reminded me of Jennifer. 

“Not really, but I’ve never really been to one, so I thought I’d try it out.” I said. I hoped he wasn’t trying to pickpocket me. 

“You want to keep watching or maybe we could go somewhere?” 

I glanced back over to where Sam and Michael were, but found that they’d left. SO was that girl. “Sure!” 

I found out that Adam was his name. He was a sporty, well-rounded, all-american boy. Mage the textbook definition of an average man and that was Adam. Albeit a little boring, his looks made up for it. 

He gestured over to a girl with long black hair, “That’s my sister.” He called out to her. ONce she turned around I realized it was Jenny from the jewelry store. 

She waved at me. I waved back. “I didn’t know Jenny was your sister.” 

“You know her?”

“Well, I met her today. I talked to the owner about getting a job.”

“Oh,” he nodded his head. “Cool, maybe we can see each other more often.” 

“Oh yeah?” I smiled back. “I’d like that.” It would be nice to make new friends. 

“Finally, I’ve been waiting forever!” Jenny softly hit her brother. 

“Sorry, I met one of your friends.” Adam hit her back. 

“Hey! I was gonna meet up with some friends. Sorry you met Adam.” She said. 

“No he’s fine!” I said. 

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Hey, I’m gonna meet some friends after Adam coughs up the money he owes me. Want to join?” 

“Sure.” I liked the idea of having a few friends beside maybe Michael. He was nice, but I wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with me living with them. 

After Adam gave Jenny about what I thought was 30 bucks, we headed towards the Ferris wheel. Two girls, one looked like Meg Ryan and the other looked like super blonde Tiffany Darwish. The super blonde chick probably used a little too much Sun In. 

“Jenny!” The less blonde one searched for her. “Who's your friend?”

“Hey girls, and she’s (Y/N). She works with me at Brenda’s shop. You guys care if she joins?” 

“I don’t, but I gotta leave. Mom set my curfew early tonight.” Blonde Tiffany Darwish moned. “See ya!”

“By Sara!” they shouted in unison. 

“I'm Carrie by the way.” The other girl stuck out her hand. 

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m not bothering you guys, right?”

“No of course not,” Jenny patted my shoulder. “Let’s go on the Ferris wheel.” 

“But there’s too many of us.” Carrie pointed out. 

A hand clapped my shoulder. “I could be your ride, sugar.” 

“I could be your rider.” The shaggy guy from earlier said, “I’m Paul, sugar.”

I turned around to see some guy that looked like a less made up version of Dee Snider. I didn’t like the way he spoke to me. Those types of men always lead to trouble. 

“I’m not sugar.” 

“Sorry man, just trying to be friendly-”

“A little too friendly.” I scolded him. 

“Listen, I still want to ride with you. I’m sorry for being too upfront. If you get to know me better you might like me.” He threw his hands up in surrender.

I looked at Jenny and Carrie, they were absolutely smitten with him. Maybe he was trying to be nice. I don’t think either of these girls would be so flustered over a creep. Or I hoped not. 

Paul, I figured out his name was, turned out to not be a total creep. “-and if you look over there, way way in the distance, is a bridge that I jump off of from time to time.” He put his arms over the back of the seat, partially putting his arm around me. Paul had been pointing and laughing at almost every location telling me about his adventures. He didn’t seem like a bad guy. I hoped that he wasn't. 

We had reached the top. “So,” he looked at me, “you like hanging out with some cool cats like me?”

“Sure, this has been nice. Thank you for dialing it back a bit.”

“No probs man, I can do anything I set my mind to.”

“Like fly?” I joked. 

“Yeah.” Paul continued to stare at the boardwalk. He seemed serious. Very serious. It made me wonder. 

“You’re funny Paul.”

“That’s what draws the babes.”

I continued to stare out at the boardwalk eyeing people for fun. A man with white hair caught my attention. He was . . . staring intensely at me. It made me nervous. 

“Hey, Paul.” He looked at me. “I’ve had a nice time but I do have to get home. It was nice meeting you.”

“Oh.” He said. The ride jerked to a stop. “See ya.” 

“Bye.” I rushed off the ride

“Who was that guy?” Jennifer asked.

“I’m sorry Jenny, I’ll explain later. I have to go.” I rushed off. 

“Wait. Are you ok?’ She shouted after me. 

I needed to find Lucy. I needed to go home. Where would she be? I went back where she dropped my off. Maybe somehow she was waiting for me. Maybe she decided she had enough at left me for good. SHe probably realized I was taking up too much space, plus I was some stranger. What if I was a serial killer? 

I spotted a short red pixie cut in the distance. God, I hope it’s her. Once I got close I realized it was. 

“Oh, (Y/N). Are you alright, you look flustered. Did something happen?” She held my face. 

“No, no, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t leave without me.” I joked. 

“Honey, we wouldn’t leave without you.” She said in a serious tone. 

“I believe you, I’ve just been trying to find you.” 

“Ok. Sam, Nanook, and I are going back to the house. I don’t know where Michael’s gone off too.”

“Probably to follow some girl.” Sam scoffed. Lucy gave him a stern look. 

The car ride back was filled with anxiety. Sam and Lucy seemed content and spoke about small unimportant things. I kept thinking back to the white haired guy. What a freak. 

I made my way up to my room when Lucy stopped me. “Here’s some pajamas. They’re a little old, but I think they’ll fit.”

“Any pajamas are good pajamas. You have no idea how much help you are.”

“Oh, honey. I remember what it was like to be by myself for a while. It’s alright.” Her smile comforted me. 

I said goodnight and closed the door to my bed room. The windsor piqued my interest. It was open, the curtain blew slightly. I didn’t remember leaving them open, perhaps an intruder? Of course not, nothing was disturbed and my room is almost three stories up. 

White. 

I stared out into the California wilderness for a moment. It couldn't be. There was no way. He couldn’t have followed me home. THere was no way he knew where I lived. We would’ve seen headlights or heard him behind us if he followed. I shut the window and drew the curtains quickly. I don’t remember how long it took for me to go to sleep that night.

[usagi-p]

Malleus x Reader

Forenote: Sorry it’s been a while since my last post, so here’s a long fic to compensate! Enjoy!! :)

It was no secret that the name Draconia was one to be feared. The weight that name held was not void when spoken in the halls of Night Raven College; though, it was often spoken in hushed tones associated with panicked expressions. Not many people dared to even approach the man behind that name.

Over his lifetime, Malleus had come to accept this as normal. After all, his grandmother had been shunned in the same manner, and she was one of the Seven that the very school he attended was founded on. With that in mind, he found the pain more bearable once he realized that not many besides his guards and Lilia would be close to him. Perhaps that’s why he found you so intriguing. 

Your presence at Night Raven challenged the traditions that the prestigious school had carried on for countless generations. Even with Crowley’s efforts to keep it under wraps, you had helped save quite a few lives and defeated several Overblots: magical messes that, by definition, would have been impossible for anyone of your standing to accomplish. Your compatibility with almost everyone you met was as alluring to him as light attracts the moth. You had even garnered quite a liking from him, despite the fact that you had only talked to each other three times. 

As of late, he had taken notice of you using a camera to take photos around Ramshackle Dorm, his favorite hiding spot. Curiosity rarely ever got to him, but this was something he couldn’t ignore. One evening, Malleus chose to follow your movement around the dorm. To his surprise, the small creature that was your companion was nowhere in sight. For some reason, that made it easier to him in the event that he chose to approach you. As long as Sebek and Silver didn’t come along, he planned on staying until you went back inside or left the dorm. “Hopefully, Lilia keeps them busy until I get back,” he thought to himself.

Malleus raised a brow as you stepped around the crumbling building. What were you doing? You walked into the dilapidated room that he often occupied when he hid from his guards. Your pace was confident and unafraid as you examined some of the items in the room. He remained quite close as you took photos, reading the notes you made in a journal you carried as well. Click. “New book on table - third one this month.” 

Click. “Semi-fresh footprints across dusty floor. Recent visit?”

Click. “Old curtains have been moved. They weren’t open three days ago.”

Click. “Chair’s been moved, scuff marks on floor as proof.” Malleus was taken aback by your observations. You had an eye for detail that he hadn’t realized. It was nice learning things like this about you, but it would’ve been better to do that in a conversation. He wasn’t worried about hiding anymore as he spoke aloud: “You certainly take detailed notes.” 

You flinched, letting out a small gasp. Just then, the camera and journal fell from your hands. You panicked and grabbed for the journal, but the camera was falling too fast for you to reach. You braced yourself for the sound of metal clanging and glass breaking. Crowley would have your head for sure if it was broken. What would he make you do as atonement this time?

A distraction from your worried thoughts came as the voice from before spoke again. When you weren’t looking, Malleus had grabbed the camera with ease. He held it out gently, meeting your eyes as you felt your breath stop. With a mix of fear and excitement, you exclaimed: “It’s you!” 

He smiled, hoping to put your worry to rest. “Hello again. It’s been some time since we last spoke like this. I hope you’ve been well.”

You brushed a hair out of your face, struggling frantically to juggle the camera and the journal as you flushed. “I-I’ve been alright. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you, Hornton.” 

He chuckled at the name you said. “I almost forgot you gave me that name. It’s endearing now more than anything. But, I digress. What are you doing here?” 

Flustered, you struggled to speak calmly as you answered him. “I thought someone was just living here in these run-down parts of the dorm, so I decided to investigate. I’ve been checking back here every few days to build a file to share with Crowley, in case someone was mooching from the school by living under me. But, now that I think about it, I should’ve figured it was you.”

You adjusted your grip, holding the camera and journal more securely now. With a look of hesitation, you asked: “Were you… watching me?”

The faintest shade of pink met his stark features, a look of genuine shock on his face before it shifted to what you guessed was shame. Was Malleus embarrassed? He spoke slowly, “I was. Though, I would say it was out of curiosity as to what you were doing. I had no ill intention, if that’s what you mean to ask.”

You nodded, understanding now. If Malleus had meant to do something bad, you would’ve been able to tell. He was too honest and transparent to keep things a secret. Even if he tried, it wouldn’t have been very successful with you. Enough time around Octavienelle had taught you how to see through that sort of thing. “So, what do we do now?”

Malleus was, in a word, perplexed. “Truth be told, I’m not sure. I’m at a loss. That doesn’t happen quite often for me.”

You looked around, gesturing to the rundown room. “Well, if you’re here, why don’t we clean this place up a bit? If you’re going to visit, I’d rather it be clean for you. That, and I won’t have to worry about people hiding here.”

He was taken aback by your words. No one would dare think of asking someone of his stature to help with something as trivial as cleaning. From where he came from, most activities like that would have been simply done by magical means. And Sebek, despite his best intentions, would have absolutely denied that kind of task for Briar Valley’s ruler in the making. But neither of his attendants were nearby. Plus, if it meant he could spend time with you, it shouldn’t be too bad.

Malleus then spent the next twenty minutes helping you around the room with whatever you asked: moving heavy objects you couldn’t, holding things up as you repaired them, and so on. It was amusing; that he, heir to a throne and the continuation of his grandmother’s legacy, was acting on your directions. He didn’t mind it terribly. It was a welcome change, doing something like this with his hands, compared to just using magic. It reminded him of his pastimes in the Gargoyle Observation club. Using his hands now reminded him of how he used them to craft the creatures of stone that he admired. That physical contact, in other words, made the situation more endearing than tedious with chores. 

When you were finished, he observed the room. Despite the wall that was caved in to your left, and some other repairs that couldn’t be made, the area was more welcoming than before. It certainly wasn’t like his usual hiding spots in Diasomnia. That’s why this one was his favorite now. It had your touch to the entire place. He turned to you, smiling as he said: “This looks lovely… Thank you.”

Your face went a vibrant pink at his words. Clearly, you must’ve heard him wrong. You stuttered in response, “A-Are you sure? I know it’s not elegant by any means, and it could use a lot of improvements. That, and there’s a wall missing as well.” 

He chuckled, “I don’t mind those things in the least. All of it reminds me of you. I find your presence, as Lilia puts it, ‘a welcome change of pace.’” 

From that day on, Malleus would often hide away in Ramshackle Dorm when he wanted to be alone. How could you tell? He always left things for you to know he had been there. Whether it was a book, a note, gems, or trinkets that Lilia had shared with him, you always had a topic for conversations together. 

You’d talk with him more frequently in the future because of this, and it helped Malleus feel as if he’d finally found someone who saw beyond how the rest of the world viewed him. He was no longer some fearful, untouchable being capable of destruction. He was simply your friend, and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

[farity]

To Forgive, Divine, part 2

Part 1

Edit pic by the amazing kyloremus

Pairing: Modern AU Aemond Targaryen x you

Summary:  You and Aemond have history together.  And history tends to repeat itself.

* * * * * 

You didn’t know quite how it had happened, but you were driving to a nearby bar with Aemond in your passenger seat.

He’d asked you if he solved your two most pressing issues - bathroom and underwear - would you be willing to go somewhere and talk.  You’d said yes, before remembering it was Aemond you were talking to and he probably already had figured out the solution in his head.

And you’d been right.  

He’d seen the 24-hour drugstore on the other side of the garage, ran inside, bought a package of underwear, presented it in a gift bag, escorted you to the bathroom of the coffee shop next door, and waited outside for you.

“Tomorrow, I will buy you the entire La Perla store downtown,” he’d said as you walked back to your car.  

You approached the swanky little bar, parked and let him open your door.  

* * * * * 

“Old-fashioned, sweet, please.”

Aemond looked at the bartender, “same, thank you.”

He walked her to one of the darkened booths.  He hadn’t been to this bar before, not that he frequented bars any more, not after the initial, blurry months after she’d left him.  After you had ignored her for months and she got sick of it.

“So, Aemond, tell me about yourself.”

He smiled, his mind going blank at the impossible question.  “I will tell you anything you wish to know.”

The server walked over with their drinks, placed the napkins and glasses in front of them.

“Thank you.”

He chatted nervously about random bullshit, knowing there were more important things to talk about but dreading it all the same.  Eventually, she leaned in and tilted her head to one side, a gesture he remembered.

“Tell me how you are not Aegon’s lifeboat any more.”

He winced at her directness, but knew she deserved to ask that particular question.  “I left.  I spent six months being angry, after you left, then I went to therapy.”

“I thought the family didn’t do therapy,” she interjected.  “that’s for mere mortals, and ‘Targaryens are closer to gods’,” she quoted the inscription on the front page of the family book, an ancient tome that listed every birth, marriage, and death in the family.

Aemond raised his glass, smiling at the words.  “They don’t do therapy.  I did.  Still do, once in a while.”  He took a long swig of the cocktail.  “Anyway, after six months, I was either going to murder him or leave.  So I left.”

She leaned in, watched the way his fingers kept tapping the glass.  “Where did you go?”

“Where didn’t I go?”  He smiled bitterly.  “I emptied my savings and took a backpack with me.  I threw my phone into the lake and left a note for my mother.  I said I’d check in once in a while and I did.  I’d call her, then she’d start telling me what Aegon had done lately, what he’d gotten himself into and I’d hang up.”

“You cut them off.”

Aemond nodded.  “It was that or spend the rest of my life fixing his shit.  Next time I called, he was in rehab.  The time after that, he’d been sober for six months.”

“Wow.”  She leaned back.  “Is he still?”

“Yup, almost two years now.”

“That’s good.  Good for him.”

“I am so sorry,” the server said, “we’re closing in fifteen minutes.”

Aemond handed him a card, “no problem.”

* * * * * 

“I can’t believe it’s almost 2am,” you remarked as you both walked to your car.  “Why don’t I drop you off?  An Uber is going to take forever.”

“I don’t mind waiting.”

You sighed, “don’t be an idiot.  I don’t mind driving you.”

He agreed, and you began driving to the other side of the city.  It was peaceful at this time, and the only sound was Aemond’s soothing voice, telling you stories of his travels.  He really had been all over the planet, and you realized from details he let slip here and there that he had been just as lonely meeting new people every day as you had back home after you’d split up.  

Finally, you pulled up at his apartment building, facing the lake, and once you’d stopped the park, he grabbed your hand, kissing the back.  “Can I see you again?” he asked quietly.

“We need to take things slowly,” you told him, “give me a few days.”

“Of course.”  He smiled and opened the door.  “Let me know whenever you are ready.”  He leaned in to kiss your cheek before leaving and you nearly grabbed his arm to keep him from going but this was the best course of action.

Getting to know each other again.  Not rushing into things.  You couldn’t assume you’d just step back into the same relationship as if nothing had happened.  He was different.  You were different.

You watched as he walked into the front door of the building and drove off, wondering how much sleep you’d get tonight.

* * * * * 

Aemond sat on the chair by the window, where he liked to read, and took a deep breath.  The entire night had been full of the unexpected, and now he had hope, a tiny ember of it, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep.  He turned on the lamp behind the chair and looked at the stack of books on the floor.  He read a bit of whichever suited his mood, and lately it had been mysteries.  He picked up one of them and thumbed through to where he’d left off the last-

His phone buzzed and he recognized the doorbell alarm.  He clicked on the app and the screen showed her, standing at his door looking nervous.  He nearly tripped over the shoes he’d taken off in his rush to get to the door, and when he opened it, she looked at him for a moment before he reached out and pulled her inside.

“You know what this means,” he whispered, keeping his hands on her shoulders and not everywhere else where he really wanted them.

“Yes.”

“I will have you.”

She rose on her tiptoes to kiss him but he pulled away.

“No, I mean, I will have you.  I agreed to take our time, but if you’re here, that changes things.  Yeah, I want you.  On your back, on your knees, however I can have you, but I want more.  I want it all.”

When she looked down, he released her and took a step back.  “Get out.”

She opened her mouth to protest and he held up a hand.  “I will send you a vibrator.”  He saw the hurt in her eyes, but he wanted all of her, not just a few frenzied minutes as they fucked.  “You don’t need me to get yourself off.”

He thought, as the seconds stretched into eternity, that his therapist would be very proud of him.  He would say something about a growing sense of worth and not accepting crumbs as he always had.

Maybe he could send something to his therapist so he, too, could go fuck himself.

“I want a second chance, too, Aemond.”

He barely heard her over the pounding in his head.  “What?”

“I said,” she almost shouted, and then closed the door, “I want a second chance, too.  The circumstances have changed but I know you.  I tried to convince myself that we’re different but that’s not true.  I know who you are.”

He took a deep breath.  “You knew me minutes ago when you said you wanted to go slowly.”

“Can we sit, please?”

When he said nothing, she asked again.  “Please,”

He walked into the living area, swept a hand out to indicate the small dining room, leaned against a wall.  He was exhausted, he was frustrated, and to add to his frustration, he’d started to get hard the moment he’d touched her at the door.

She placed her bag on the dining room table, pulled out one of the chairs and sat while he used every ounce of willpower he had to not rush to her, comfort her, take her in his arms and begin undressing her because god knew the quick fuck they’d had earlier was nowhere near enough to sate him.

“I am sorry,” she began, “I realize I’m bouncing between extremes here and it’s’ not fair to you.  Seeing you was a shock.”

He said nothing and watched tears gathering in her eyes.

* * * * * 

You dug your nails into your palm, because goddamnit you were not going to cry.  You could get through this conversation without tears.

But Aemond’s expression.  Or more specifically, the lack of expression on his face was so unsettling.  You could do this, you reminded yourself.  You could get your thoughts out in a coherent, organized manner, and eloquently explain your feelings, fears, and hopes.

You opened your mouth and saw him take a deep breath, looking at you like he was listening to his brother explaining how this was really, truly, the last time.

“I just fucking miss you so much.”  You burst into tears, and you caught, just barely, the impulsive movement from him, the split-second where he had moved towards you before he pulled himself back to where he stood.  You covered your face, angry that you’d just blurted something out instead of the calm, straightforward words you’d been practicing as you walked to his building.

You wiped your eyes with your hands and then looked at him.  “I love you, Aemond, and if you need more time, I will-”

He sprung then, startling you when he pulled out a chair and sat facing you.  “Need more time?”  He laughed bitterly.  “I was ready to try, wasn’t I?  Did you forget our little interlude in that closet?  I said I wanted to see you again, and you said to take things slowly.  So I agreed.  But now you’re here, and I’m guessing it’s not because you want to ask me about my Lord and Savior, so what- what the hell am I supposed to think?”  

Yeah, he was right.  He sighed, then rose to head to his kitchen, grabbed a couple of glasses while you gathered yourself.  When he came back, he placed a glass of water and a box of tissues in front of you, then drank most of his water before placing the glass down.

“I know,” you said softly.  “It’s not fair to you.”  You grabbed some tissues, swiped them over your eyes.  “I mean what I said.  I love you.  And I thought I wanted to take things slowly but I realized we’re not really different people.”

You wiped your nose, drank some water.  “Aemond, you were always loyal as fuck to your family, and while you stopped fixing Aegon’s shit, it doesn’t mean you didn’t want to, it just meant you realized it wouldn’t solve anything.  It was bad for him and bad for you, so you stopped.  You’re still that loyal person, you just don’t enable him anymore.”  

“Neither of us was wrong, back then,” you continued.  “You were doing what you thought was right, and I was protecting myself from feeling like I wasn’t important to you.  And now things are different.  And I don’t want to wreck any chance we might have.”  You couldn’t look at him.  You couldn’t risk the chance of seeing hatred in his gaze.

You felt him walk over, crouch in front of you and reach up to touch your hair.  “I did treat you like you weren’t important.  I am sorry I made you feel that way.”  He twirled a lock of hair around his finger, brushed his thumb over it.  “I want to try, but I need to know what we’re doing here.”

You nodded, finally looked at him.  He was watching you with tenderness and you smiled softly.  “I want it all, Aemond.  Just like you do.”

“If that’s the case, then stay with me,” he said.  “First, because it’s almost dawn and neither of us should be driving anywhere, but also because I fucking miss you, too.  Not just sex, but you.  Spend the day with me and we can figure things out together.”

You took a deep breath, the fear that had constricted you finally going away, and you nodded.  “Okay.”

* * * * * 

The sun, when it rose, found Aemond sitting on his chair with her on his lap.  He’d known he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, and she had downed half the pot of coffee he’d made, but she was happily nestled against him as the first rays peeked through the slivers of space between the buildings he could see from his window.

His sweatpants were long on her, even rolled up he could barely see her toes, and his t-shirt was thin but between his body heat and the blanket he had wrapped around her, she reassured him she was very comfortable.

When she finally dozed off, he rose with her in his arms, walked to his bed and tucked her in.  He was incredibly wired from all the coffee he’d had so he stood back up to go do some work in the living room.

“Don’t leave, please.”

She’d snuck one of her arms out of the blankets, and had flung her hand toward him.

He closed the door and went back to her, slipped under the covers and wrapped himself around her.  

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he murmured against her hair.  “This is not a hardship, you know?”

He felt her smile, felt her arms go around him, and then she lifted her mouth to his.  He was powerless, his defenses completely gone, and he kissed her, gently at first and then the all consuming hunger and need began taking over and he added teeth and tongue to the kiss.  When she moaned, he began pulling clothes off of her, let her greedy hands grab and tear at his own clothing until he could, finally, slip inside her, feel the heat of her surround him.  

She reached up, fingertips gentle on his cheek, and he pulled off the eyepatch, let the blue flame of the sapphire burn down on her as he rocked his hips against her.  Her lips were light as butterflies as she traced his scar, her breathing catching as her own need grew.  “Aemond,” she whispered, “it’s always been you.  I’ve never loved anyone else.”

He couldn’t answer her, not with words, because they were a jumbled mess in his throat, but he kissed her, loved her until she cried out with pleasure, and only after he’d let go and lost himself in her, could he finally murmur, “I love you, too.”

* * * * * 

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