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sacredsorceress · 3 years

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Secrets (Four) || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: when you wake up in the avengers compound after being saved by bucky, sam and nat, you discover that something’s changed.

a/n: thank you for all your feedback!! reblogs and replies are super appreciated!

word count: 2.7k

warnings: arguing, swearing, angst

Prologue, One, Two, Three

masterlist || request || taglist

Opening your eyes, blinking to clear your vision, you were immediately met with ice coating the ceiling above you despite feeling as though you were locked in a sauna.

“What the-”

Sitting up in your bed, you tried to piece together where you were, why you were here and what had just happened, but all you could see was the concrete room you were sat in with nothing but a bright light shining above you and frost coating every inch of the room.

Suddenly the events of the day all came back to you- the men in your house, being kidnapped, being locked in a container to freeze to death... the truth about your husband.

Bucky.

The last thing you remembered were his eyes meeting yours on the other side of the glass.

Despite years of marriage and precious memories, all that flooded your brain were the images of the Winter Soldier- masked and ready to kill. All you could hear were the screams of his victims and those who fled at the sight of him.

All you could feel was fear.

“You’re awake.” You heard an unfamiliar voice declare.

Snapping your attention towards the door of the room you hadn’t even noticed was there, you recognized the very familiar red-headed Avenger standing in the doorway.

“Wait, you’re.... are you-” You stumbled over your words. “Where am I?”

Carefully stepping into the room, closing the door behind her, Natasha slowly made her way over to your bed.

“You’re at the Avengers Compound.” She informed you. “Do you remember anything?”

You thought then that she might have been glad to learn that you had retained your memory, but you sure wished you hadn’t.

“More than I’d like to.” You said.

Shooting you a sad smile, her gloved hands pulled up the chair next to your bed, seating herself beside you. As she did you finally took in her appearance, noting the large jacket she was wearing, the hood over her head and thick gloves on her hands, meanwhile you felt as though you were soaking in your own sweat.

“God, how are you wearing that?” You asked, pointing at her jacket. “It’s so hot in here.”

Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair.

“Well when you’re ninety degrees, I guess an ice rink would feel a little warm.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you sat up straighter in your bed.

“Ninety degrees?” You asked. “Shouldn’t I be dead by now?”

“That’s what we all thought.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you remembered the feeling of the frost hitting your skin when you were enclosed in the container, the sounds of the cold air rushing out of its walls. You were trapped, feeling the biting cold in a way you never had before. So cold that when the frost began to form over the glass, your husband’s eyes meeting yours, all you could feel was the cooling sense of exhaustion wash over you as you closed your eyes and fell into a deep slumber.

“How long have I been out?” You asked.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth, you heard a voice coming from the other side of the room.

“Two days.”

Your eyes snapping open, you turned your attention immediately to the man in the doorway. When you saw your husband standing in the threshold, you felt your heart begin to race in your chest as you scrambled back against the bed frame.

“You.” You said, swallowing, the word venomous in your mouth.

Hearing the word slip out of your mouth almost as though it were a cruse, Bucky’s eyes widened and he began to feel his heart beat against his chest.

He knew then that the consequence of the secret he had been keeping for years was now staring him back in the face.

“Y/n-” He eased, taking another step forward.

Grabbing the pillow from behind your back, you tossed it at him.

“You lied to me!” You shouted. “You fucking lied to me all these years. I- it’s sick!”

Letting the pillow hit his chest, he began to feel sick.

He had known deep down that someday his past would come back to haunt him. Even deeper down he knew that someday you would discover the truth, but he had hoped to be gone by then, leaving you to hate him once he could no longer feel your wrath. He had shoved down the idea of the look on your face when you found out for years, but now as he stood there, his own nightmares playing out before him, he just wished he had told the truth sooner.

The consequence of losing you and never having you was better than knowing your love and having it tainted with hatred by his own hand.

“Doll,” He said your pet name, his shoulders slouching.

“No!” You shouted, pushing yourself off of the bed. “You don’t get to call me that anymore! God, did ever even feel bad about lying to your own wife?”

He did.

He felt awful every time he made up some lie about his past. He felt awful every time he told you he had no family, no friends. He even felt awful every morning when he lied to you about where he was going off to work every day.

It had been eating away at him for years.

He had told himself that it was for the best, but he realized now that he didn’t do it for you, but entirely for himself. He had been so incredibly selfish and you were now paying for his crimes.

“Of course I did.” Bucky said so low, it was nearly a whisper. “Of course I felt bad, Y/n.”

Before you could reply, you heard another knock on the door, it cracking open slightly.

“Oh thank God.” Natasha said from her seat when she saw Bruce and Sam.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you turned away from your husband, instead focussing your attention on the two Avengers now entering the icy space.

Before anyone could speak, however, the man you recognized as Captain America made his way over to you, reaching his gloved hand out for you to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” He said, giving you a soft smile. “I’m Sam. I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances, but...”

Glaring at Bucky, you shook Sam’s hand.

“Sam.” You said. “It’s so nice to finally meet you too.”

Your eyes still on your husband, the three others in the room glanced between one another before Bruce cleared his throat.

“Y- you’re probably wondering about the ice in the room,” Bruce said

“You could say that.”

“Well, while you were out for the past couple of days we had some of the best doctors we know examine you,” Bruce explained. “I understand that this may be... difficult... to understand, but this- this ice- it’s-”

“It’s coming out of you.” Sam said finally, finishing Bruce’s sentence for him.

Quirking your eyebrows at the three members of the group of Avengers, you thought for a second before shaking your head, laughing.

“You’re joking, right?” You asked. “You have to be kidding.”

This couldn’t be real. There was no possible way you actually had ice coming out of your body. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t real.

Standing up from her seat, Natasha crossed her arms.

“When you were in cryo, you were in temperatures nobody comes back from.” She said, seriously. “You should be dead right now. No one knows why you’re still here.”

Lifting your hands from your sides to stare at your palms, you attempted to digest the information the three of them had just fed you.

You were alive when every logical answer said you shouldn't have been. You had abilities that no other living person did.

You were supposed to be at home, spending the weekend with your children. You were supposed to wait for your completely honest husband to walk in the doors of your home and kiss him hello.

But now you were standing there, being told that you had changed- transformed. You were different than you were before. You didn’t feel warm and fuzzy, but cold and distraught.

Feeling the anger course through your veins, tears meeting your eyes, you stared at your palms and in a flash, frost burst forth from the center of your hand.

Jumping back, you rapidly closed your hands into a fist, feeling your heart thumping against your chest.

“I understand that this is hard to take in-” Banner attempted.

“I’m... I’m a monster.” You said, staring up at them with wide eyes. “I have ice coming out of my hands!”

Gazing at you from the other side of the room, watching the fear in your eyes behind the tears begging to break free, Bucky felt incredibly guilty.

He had known what you were going through because he had gone through the same himself. He had woken up only to discover that he had become a super soldier with a metal arm- that he was no longer Bucky Barnes- but someone else- someone different.

He would have never wished the experience on his worst enemy, never mind the woman he cared for most in the world, but you were experiencing it nonetheless. You were in it because of him.

He had told himself that he was trying to protect you, but in the end he had forced you into a life you had never asked for.

He felt his heart shatter in his chest watching you fall apart before everyone.

All he wished was for him to be able to go over to you, to hold you in his arms despite the cold bite of ice that was sure to frost over him as soon as his skin met yours, but he knew he couldn’t. He knew you didn’t want him to.

“Y/n that’s not true.” Sam said. “I know it might feel that way, but you’re still you and Bruce is going to figure out a way for you to control it. I know it seems bad, but you’re going to be okay. You’re a part of our family now. We’ll figure it out, alright?”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you nodded.

“Okay.”

As much as you were in shock, you trusted the three individuals in front of you. They hadn’t given you a reason not to- they had risked their lives to save you and even now when you felt they owed you nothing, they were working their best to help you.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” You said. “Really. I think I just need some space right now.”

“I understand.” Sam nodded. “If you need anything, we’ll be right outside.”

Without a word the others followed him as he left the room and you slowly made your way over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, placing your head in your hands.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

Shaking your head you pulled your face out of your hands.

“What part of ‘I need space’ don’t you understand, Buck?” You asked.

You heard his footsteps slowly cross over the room to you.

“I need to say something-”

Of course he did.

“Oh that’s rich, James!” You scoffed. “Funny how now you have something to say. Funny how you didn’t say anything when we started dating, or got married, or God- had children together.”

“Y/n-”

“It’s just so insane to me how you could go all this time without saying anything.” You continued. “How could you even look yourself in the mirror-”

“Fuck, Y/n, just listen to me!” He shouted, standing in front of your spot on the bed. “I fucked up really bad- I know that. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but can’t you see why I did it? I was so afraid you’d be ashamed of me because of what I am and I thought I was protecting you-”

Feeling the ice beginning to shoot out of your palm, you pushed yourself off of the bed, pointing your finger into your husband’s chest.

“I’m ashamed to have a liar as a husband.” You said, knowing just how much the words stung for him, but you felt nothing but ice flowing through you at the moment in the heat of rage. “How could you think this was protecting us? How could you think keeping the truth from me was protecting our kids? You not only put me in danger but my kids, Buck.”

“They’re my kids too, Y/n.” Bucky said.

“Are they?” You asked. “Because I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

You watched as he stepped back, his back hitting the icy wall behind him. He had known you were angry, he even knew that he deserved every harsh word you were throwing at him, but to hear you dismiss him so entirely- to almost denounce him from your life- made him feel a pain that even his worst days in Hydra or in recovery could never rival.

“I- I mean I don't even know who I am anymore, Buck.” You said throwing your arms in the air. “I mean look at this. Look at this room! Nobody can even touch my hand without gloves or without bundling up like they’re going to the fucking North Pole!”

Backing away from him, you held your face in your hands once again.

“I don’t even recognize myself and I’m all alone.” You said, lowering your voice. “I- I can’t even hug my kids- I can’t see my kids. It’s so hot in this room to me but everything just feels so cold and empty. I just wish you didn’t fucking lie to me because it would be so much easier to not hate you the way I do right now. Looking at you makes me want to scream but, God, I feel so alone.”

Beginning to feel a sob catch in your throat, your head still in your hands and the tears turning to ice when they met your palms, you felt the cool touch of Bucky’s vibranium hand meet your arm.

Shrugging him off, you shook your head.

“As much as I fucking hate you right now, you can’t touch me, James.” You said. “I’ll just hurt you.”

He knew that. He knew the biting sting of your ice against his skin. He had spent the past two days sitting by your unconscious side and no matter how many times the others told him to keep his gloves on at all times, your touch mattered more. They brought more warmth than any glove could- no matter how cold your hands were.

Seeing you breakdown in front of him, despite all of the harsh words you had thrown at him, he was sure he felt his heart break in his chest. You didn’t deserve this pain. You didn’t deserve this suffering. You didn’t deserve to be alone.

Resting his vibranium hand on your arm once again, the frost slowly creeping up his arm, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Wrapping both of his arms around you, he pulled you into his embrace. Rather than shrugging him off and pulling away, you wrapped your arms tightly around his torso, digging your face into his bundled up chest, sobbing.

Feeling a chill run throughout his body at your touch, he rest his chin on the top of your head, running his frozen vibranium arm up and down your back.

Although he knew that all was not forgiven, and that things would not be the same or even okay for a long time- if at all- all that mattered to him in that moment was that you weren’t alone. No matter the ice that overtook his body when you were in his embrace, the warmth that you brought him would never grow cold.

Going into cyro ten thousand times would be worth just one second of your peace and he would do whatever it took for you to forgive him for his mistakes that you now bore the consequences of.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes angst

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5

More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.

Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.

I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go

Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming

“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear.

“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”

“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid.

“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room.

“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?”

“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.”

Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.”

“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked. “That’s gotta count for something!”

You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him.

“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”

"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."

And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.

“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.”

Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.

"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.

"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.

“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. “In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”

“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.

You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.

"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"

You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.

"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.

"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.

"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."

"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.

"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, me too." You agreed.

"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.

"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."

"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."

You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."

You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.

He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.

"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."

"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.

Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.

You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."

Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.

“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?”

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.

"On?"

"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."

"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"

You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."

"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.

"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.

"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."

"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."

“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions.

“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.”

"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"

He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"

"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."

"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."

You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."

You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.

You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."

"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."

You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?”

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.”

You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression.

Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.”

You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.”

“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours.

You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you.

“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.”

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?”

Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.”

“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.”

Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.

You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure.

“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.”

“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?”

You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.”

Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.”

“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.

“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.”

“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?”

“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.”

“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?”

“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.”

This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.”

“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.”

He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?”

“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.”

He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes.

“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.”

#hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #hannigram #hannigram x reader #the sommelier #wine #tw trauma #tw victim blaming #tw alcohol

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shoutoismybaby · 4 years

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A Pink Promise (BakuXReader)

Summary: You had a tradition with bakugou. A tradition where every time you had to leave each other you would wrap your pinky’s together in a promise that you would see the other again. But one night after an argument you storm out of the apartment without your typical goodbye, and bakugou gets a call that makes him question if he will ever see you alive again

WARNING: Angst, but it ends in fluff. Cursing, injury, car accident, fighting, and crying

Hi. I’m just gonna leave this here😘

***

“I should probably head home,” You shifted from one foot to another, “my dad will get worried if I’m late…”

“Alright, bye loser.” You giggled at Bakugous response and held out your hand, pinky extended.

“So, you’ll pick me up at two?” You asked, pausing at the confused look on his face. “What?”

“What are you doing?” Bakugou asked, he was staring at your hand. You laughed once more and ignored his glare,

“Oh, it's for a pinky promise.” You explained,

“You need me to pinky promise that I’ll take you on a date tomorrow?” His brows only became more furrowed, Katsuki knew you were a little weird. The simplest things seemed to make you smile, but that's what he loved about you. He wondered if you seriously wanted him to pinky promise you that he would take you out, right after he just asked you to be his girlfriend. Yeah, he was an asshole. But not to that extent.

“No, um. It’s a promise that you’ll see me again.” You blushed, it was a habit you had picked up from your parents. They always used a pinky promise in place of a goodbye kiss. You were about to let your hand drop when looped his pinky with yours.

“Okay, I’ll be at your house at two. You better be ready.” He gave your finger a tight squeeze before letting it go. He then turned around and began walking away from you.

“I won't!” You promised, watching him walk away for a couple of seconds before you turned to head home.

From that day on, each time you went to say goodbye, a pinky promise accompanied it. Even Bakugou caught onto the habit quickly, despite the fact that his friends would often tease him for it. Yeah, he was whipped for you. He knew it. Your peers knew it. Even your uncle's dog knew it. But all that mattered to him was that you were happy. And you were for a while.

It was when you had graduated for UA and moved into an apartment together that problems started to arise. Katsuki got overly jealous of every person you got close to, and you were always exhausted after work. Hero's work was stressful on both of you, only contributing to the short temper your boyfriend seemed to have. Fights would happen over the smallest of things, such as chores not being done, or something being left out where it didn't belong.

Of course, you couldn't say that you were innocent, you did start a fair amount of fights. Eventually, though, it hit a point that you could barely handle it anymore. Even when you tried to calm him down, to just talk through things, it would always end in screams and slammed doors.

And soon enough, you hit your limit.

“God, don’t you ever shut up!?” You screamed, just having gotten home from work. Why were you already fighting with him? You hadn't even gotten the chance to take off your shoes. His face only seemed to get more contorted, matching the amount of anger he felt. Why was he always directing it at you? “I just got home from work, cant you give me a fucking break!”

“Maybe you’d get home earlier if you were any good at what you do!” He argued, of course, he would go on the offense.

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” You prayed that he would back down.

“I'm just saying that if you weren't such a shitty hero, maybe you would get home at a decent time and actually-” That was your breaking point.

“Just because you’ll never be good enough to be the number 1 hero, doesn't mean you can take it out on me!” You shut him up pretty fast. His face paled and eyes widened, but you could barely notice past the high you were on. “I’m sick and tired of coming home to someone who only wants to fight with me! Have you ever thought that maybe I take extra shifts to avoid seeing you?”

You were crying now, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You were so mad. How could he tell you that he loved you and then tell you something like that?

Katsuki seemed frozen, you couldn't see the guilt flood his body. You couldn't hear the thoughts whirring in his head. You couldn't feel his regret. You could only feel anger.

You could only feel your heart ripping in two, the tears scratching their way to your eyes. Everything hurt. You felt like a gust of wind could cause your body to fall apart. Yet, at the same time, you felt numb. Maybe that was the anger. The desperation. The hurt. Maybe that was what was protecting your fragile self.

You had never felt so broken and vulnerable before.

“I hate you Bakugou!” He was supposed to be the one to protect you, love you, care for you. So why was he the one tearing you apart?

If it hadn't already, his heart stopped. You hadn't called him by his last name since you got together.

“(Y/n)-” His hand reached out to you. All he wanted to do right then was apologize to you, and hold you close until you forgave him. But you couldn't do that. Not again. Not then,

“Don't touch me!” Your voice sounded so broken as you held one of your wrists in your other hand. “Don't-” A shuddering breath made its way through your throat. You reached for your coat and began to pull it on.

“(Y/n), please don't. I'm sorry-”

“I don't want to see you again,” You closed your eyes tight and sighed, turning to the door. He didn't say anything else, so you left.

***

It was a couple of seconds before his arm returned to his side, and a couple of minutes more before he stopped standing there. Choosing to sit instead. He wasn’t sure why. Why he didn’t just move to the couch. Why some part of him was convinced that you would just walk back in, and let him apologize. Let him fix everything.

But he knew you wouldn't. Even more, he knew he didn’t deserve it.

It was an hour before he finally moved, and it was only to get to his ringing phone. All he could do at that moment was wish it was you.

Wish it was about you.

Oh, how he came to wish he could take back that wish.

“(y/n), I'm sorry-”

“Hello?” It wasn't your voice on the phone, Bakugou considered hanging up, but had a feeling that he shouldn't.

“Who is this?” He asked gruffly, he just wanted you back in his arms. He didn't care about anything else.

“My name is Haru, I work for the Musutafu hospital. Your number is on the emergency contact list of (Y/n) (L/n). Could you come down to the hospital? It's urgent.”

Bakugou didn't think that his heart would break anymore that night. But here he was, tearing up on the phone. Begging and screaming at the poor nurse to tell him what was going on, knowing full well she couldn't. Stupid patient confidentiality.

He had never pulled on his shoes and coat faster, not taking the time to realise his shoes did not match. He knew it was illegal to use his quirk at the moment, but he didn’t care. He launched himself into the air and towards the hospital, only slowing down in order to land painfully in front of the doors. But he didn't care about how he felt. Nor did he care about the immediate attention that was placed on him from everyone around.

“Is that Ground Zero?”

“I’ve never seen him without his hero suit on before”

“Look at him. He looks like a mess.”

“Is he okay?”

The hospital was busy when he walked inside, covered in sweat from both the bodily exertion and anxiety. His heart was racing and the only thing keeping him from fainting was the fact that he needed to see you. How had you already ended up in the hospital? You had only just left his house-

But the clock on the wall corrected him, it had been a few hours. His stomach churned as he walked up to the receptionist's desk,

“Where’s (Y/n)?” He growled out, beginning to get restless. Now that some people knew who he was, the paparazzi was sure to show up. And that was the last thing either of you needed.

“Name, ID, Relationship to the patient?” The woman's calm demeanor was in direct contrast to the storm brewing in Bakugou.

“Bakugou Katsuki, I’m (Y/n) (L/n)’s boyfriend.” He said as he dug out his wallet, suddenly remembering something you had told him once when you had to visit him in the hospital after a villain encounter went sideways. “But we’ve lived together for over three years, we have a common law marriage.”

He knew that this was the only way he was going to be able to see you, but it wasn’t like he was lying. The receptionist squinted at him before taking his ID and looking it over.

“Alright, if you can state the name of the patient you are visiting for me again I can get you the guest pass and their room number.”

***

Your door slammed open, and you strained your eyes trying to see. The brace around your neck stops you from properly looking over. It didn’t take long to realise who it was when you heard the strangled whine. You recognized it as Katsuki right away. How could you not?

You had been with him for years, through the ups, the downs, and the very far downs that were the past year. You had held him tightly when those noises had escaped him in the past and you shielded him from the world when he was no longer able to keep up his facade.

You could only imagine how broken he looked now, you just wanted to hold him again and protect him from everything.

Until you remembered your last conversation, but then you just felt conflicted. You were mad at him. You were so angry.

But you were scared, so scared.

After all your years as a pro hero, and it was a truck that fucked you up the most. Each breath was painful, and maybe if your mind wasn’t so cloudy on pain meds, you would be able to remember how many ribs the doctor told you were broken, or which leg. Or if you were going to live. God, were you scared.

Footsteps brought you out of your thoughts, focusing your eyes to the man who stood in front of you. He looked like a boy now, so broken and collapsed in on himself.

“(Y/n),” sounded broken.

His brows were furrowed, mouth deep set in a scowl. But you knew better. You saw the tears stains on his cheeks. The redness of his eyes. His coat was inside out. You knew his face was one of worry. Fear.

You remembered the first time you saw him look like that. The first time he opened himself up to be so vulnerable to you. It was sometime after All Might had fallen, and the guilt had been eating him up. Not many other people noticed the way his thoughts were eating him up inside. But you did.

You saw the light in his eyes dim. The dark bags began to form and the way his posture fell. His confidence was falling no matter how much he screamed to keep up his image.

“K-kat-suk-i” You struggled to speak, your voice raspy. Like you hadn’t drank anything in years. Tears bubbled in his eyes, and, somehow that was more painful than when you first woke up. In the middle of the street, there had been a young woman kneeling over you, screaming into her phone. You couldn't hear her though, only the ringing in your ear.

You couldn't remember right before you got hit, it was fuzzy. Though the doctor told you it was normal. You wondered if maybe you were just running without looking. Or if tears clouded your vision. Or maybe, if it hadn't been your fault at all.

“Shit,” The love of your life began to scrub his face with his fists, much like he did the night you found him in the dorms kitchen. Crying over a late night snack as his fists clenched the edge of the counter, struggling to hold himself together.

No matter how much he tried to cover his face after you made your presence known, you could see the tears as they fell to the floor. You could hear his strangled whimpers. And even though you knew the possible consequences, you held his shaking body in your arms. You let him be vulnerable and didn’t say a word.

It was that day that you began to see Bakugou as he truly was. An Asshole? Yes, of course. But also a boy who cared way too much, who held himself to impossible standards, and who never really had a proper support system. You decided to be his support that day, and soon after you became his girlfriend too.

“They, they told me what happened to you,” you watched as little pops of frustration came out of his fists. “And I couldn't help but think that it’s my fault.”

“No,” you wanted to protest, but you instead had your breath hitched in your throat. The desire of water coming to be the very forefront of your thoughts as you reached out your hands, desperate for the hydration that would let you continue. Bakugou, of course noticed and his crimson eyes quickly spotte the glass of water on your nightstand. Once the cool glass brushed against your fingers, you brought it to your lips and drank as if you hadn’t seen a liquid in days.

“Just, listen okay? I… Ive been taking out my work stress on you, I’ve been rude and condesending and just fucking nit picky. You didn’t deserve any of that, especially what I said earlier. It was fucking uncalled for and so far from the truth.” The determination in his gaze was evident, it was the same gleam in his eyes he got whenever he set his mind to something. You adored that look from him.

“I know Katsuki, I know you don’t really think that.” You muttered, unsure of what to say. Were you just supposed to forgive his, what seemed to be, apology? You had no idea how you felt. Your head hurt along with the rest of your body and your throat was still parched despite downing your water seconds ago.

“It doesnt matter, you need to know what I do think. I think youre an incredibly strong woman. And a fucking resilient, relentless one at that. Can’t get you off my shit for two seconds. But I love that about you, you know? I know I’ve been a dick recently but I really do love you. I asmire you too, your work ethic. You never give up and thats what makes you one of the best heroes out there, fuck what the polls say.” He sniffled and quickly ran a closed fist under his nose. “You dont deserve what I’ve been putting you through lately… and I’m fucking sorry. You’re the most important person in my life and you deserve better than the asshole you’ve been getting.”

“You’ve always been an asshole.” You used your glass to hide the smirk on your face that only grew bigger as bakugou couldn't help himself from blowing up.

“I- are you kidding!? I’m trying to fucking apologize here and THATS what you choose to say!?” The pops of his quirk created a melody with the raspy laughs that left your mouth.

“Yeah,” your chuckling continued as bakugou's face softened. Eyes like cooling embers as they dusted across your figure. You tried to ignore that look, it always made your chest swell uncomfortably. Nothing could make you tear up more than the love bakugou had for you.

“Shitty woman,” he sat himself down in the chair besides your bed and took the now empty glass from your hands, “I just want you to know that when- if, you come home… that things are going to be better. I don't ever want to make you feel like you have to avoid me ever again. I want you to feel safe around me. And I swear that I’m going to put you above my hero work from now on-“

“No, Katsuki, I’m sorry I said that. I shouldn’t have said that you can't become the number one hero, it's not true.” You shook your head, the shame being too painful to look anywhere but your hands. Balled in fists on your lap before they were gently tugged into his own. You reluctantly met his eyes, admiring the fire that burned in them.

“This has nothing to fucking do with that, okay? I’m not giving up on being the number one, I’m just going to start working harder to be better for you at the same time. And anyone who thinks I can’t do it is a dumb bitch.”

“God can your ego get Any bigger?” A smile stretched across your face as you began laughing again when he simply shrugged. It hurt like a bitch, the sharp pain making your eyes water, but you just loved everything about the angry man in front of you. Even when he began yelling at you to stop laughing before you hurt yourself even more. It took awhile for you to calm down, and even longer to get bakugou to stop glaring at you for hurting yourself.

“I love you,” he said after a moment of silence, his rough thumbs rubbing circles into the meat of your hand.

“I know.” You sighed, basking in the silence that lasted only a few seconds before bakugou ripped his hands from yours.

“SAY IT BACK!”

***

I hope you enjoyed!

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #nesawrites #bakugou x reader #bnha x y/n

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tulipsandcorgis · 3 years

Note

Hii , hope you're well

Since you're open to crazy prompts i would like to contribute one!

What if Kate goes to duel someone who tries to take advantage of Edwina? And Edwina obviously panics and goes to the Bridgerton for help and she gathers all the Bridgerton brothers to go and stop Kate. Anthony's obviously furious because she's willing to kill herself (hypocrite) and drags them all back to his lodgings.

I'm sorry if its such a long prompt i simply had to share the idea! Thank you for all your fics!!

unsurprisingly, a long (and very interesting) prompt results in a long(-ish) answer! so here’s 1.5k words of anthony not realizing he’s afraid to lose kate, colin contributing very little to the conversation, and benedict and edwina just going along for the ride, i suppose. also featuring brief appearances by daphne and lady danbury, and mentions of an original(-ish) character. not sure if this 100% works with the canon timeline, since this is set before anything happens between kate and anthony (aka no kiss in the study has happened yet).

anyway, thank you so much for trusting me with your idea! without further ado, here it is:

“She did what?” Anthony exclaimed, staring at Edwina with a wide-eyed expression on his face. The crease between his eyebrows had deepened significantly, and it almost looked as if he were about to pop a vein in his forehead.

“Well, we were just preparing to leave Lady Trowbridge’s ball tonight — you were there, too. As were you, and you.” Edwina said hurriedly, glancing at Benedict and Colin. “And Kate saw Lord Mountbatten approach me, and before I knew it, she’d challenged him to a duel.”

“Why?” Benedict questioned, having clearly not witnessed the encounter, and Anthony gritted his teeth.

“Edwina, forgive my language, but you sister is a bloody fool.” He spat, clenching his jaw and massaging his temples with his thumb and forefinger.

Edwina paid no attention to his comment, and turned to Benedict. “He gripped my waist quite hard, you see, and made some comment about how lovely our children would be, and then Kate appeared. I’ve never seen her so furious. And then, well, she said something along the lines of wanting to demand satisfaction.”

She shuddered at the memory of Mountbatten’s mouth near her ear during a dance, his calloused palms gripping her waist with much more force than was strictly necessary. But then, much to her relief, Kate had showed up.

Benedict’s face contorted into a look of genuine disgust, and Colin’s eyebrows raised.

“Well, where is she?” He asked, almost conversationally, as if absolutely nothing was wrong. Anthony pondered fratricide for a brief moment. “I could always be her second.”

“You will do no such thing,” Anthony interrupted, glaring at his brother before turning back to the group. “This is madness. Mountbatten is a skilled marksman. With his finger on the trigger, Kate would die before the ten paces are even up!”

Edwina gasped. “We need to find her, quickly.”

Benedict patted her shoulder softly. “We will, don’t worry.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, brother.” Anthony snapped, before grabbing Edwina’s hand and leading her out of the study. “Now, I suppose we should find your sister before she gets herself killed.”

“Daphne told me that she and Kate were heading over to Lady Danbury’s after the ball,” Colin supplied. “Given these… unforeseen circumstances, we don’t know if she’s still there, but it wouldn’t hurt to check.”

Much to everyone’s relief. Anthony agreed, and the group quickly made their way to Lady Danbury’s residence, with Colin still offering advice, probably to ease Edwina’s anxiety.

“You know, I could still be her second,” He offered, turning to Edwina. “After all, I do know where Anthony keeps the pistols.”

The girl’s eyes widened in surprised, and Anthony frowned. “If anyone is to be her second, it will be me.” He said firmly. “Seeing as Benedict and I are the only two people here who actually know the rules of dueling.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “If you’re talking about the incident with Hastings, I was also there,” He reminded his brother, but Anthony was having none of it.

He picked up his pace, relieved to see that Danbury’s house was in view. Benedict, Colin, and Edwina struggled to keep up as Anthony practically raced across the cobblestones, bounded up the steps, and pounded on the front door.

“Christ, you’re going to give Lady Danbury a heart attack,” Colin muttered, and Anthony shot him a look.

A footman opened the door, and Anthony practically pushed past him, leading Edwina through the house, with the other two brothers hot on their heels.

In the dimly lit drawing room, the only light coming from a roaring fire in the fireplace, sat Lady Danbury, Daphne, and Kate.

“Ah, Bridgertons!” Lady Danbury grinned, nodding at Edwina. “And a Sharma, as well. Come to collect your sisters, I presume?”

Benedict muttered a quick, “Something of that sort,” as Anthony said, with the last shred of politeness left in his body, “I’m afraid we don’t have time for small talk tonight, Lady Danbury.”

He shot the older woman a strained smile, then turned his attention to Kate, who sat on the sofa with Daphne at her side. He shooed his sister away, and ushered her and everyone else, except for Kate and Edwina, from the room. Now it was just him, the Sharma sisters, and Anthony’s rage — which burst from him as soon as the drawing room door clicked shut.

“What on earth do you think you’re playing at?” He hissed, his eyes burning with a fire that was similar to the very one roaring on the coals in the fireplace. “Your sister—“ He pointed at Edwina. “She arrives at Bridgerton House and tells me you’ve demanded to duel with Lord Mountbatten!”

Kate rolled her eyes and stood. “He—“

“He made a comment to your sister, yes, but that is hardly something to duel over, Miss Sharma. Do you know Lord Mountbatten is one of the best marksmen in the ton?”

“No,” She said, eyeing him closely. “But—“

“He can kill you, Kate.” Anthony told her, his voice deathly serious, and her eyes widened. “Kill. You.” He repeated, either to get the words through her silly skull, or, perhaps, his.

Anthony stepped closer, his manners being swallowed up by the anger and fear growing in his chest. “He would aim that tiny bullet right here—“ He pointed to a spot just below her collarbone. “And you’d be gone before the doctor on site could get to you.”

She swallowed thickly, lowering her eyes to where his finger hovered in the air, just several inches from her skin. The air crackled with something electric and unsaid, and Anthony felt his jaw unclench as he lowered his hand.

“That won’t happen.” Kate said finally, looking past him, at her sister.

“You don’t know that.” He barked out a twisted sort of laugh, the sound almost getting caught in his throat. “If you did, you wouldn’t have demanded satisfaction in the first place. Seriously, what were you thinking?”

He turned away, his eyes burning from something that must have been the smoke from the fireplace - nothing else could’ve caused it, he was convinced - and looked at Edwina. Whatever words he intended on saying were forgotten once he heard Kate’s unforgettably calm voice reach his ears.

“Lord Bridgerton—“

“Miss Sharma, you must know that there is a person in this room who is very intent on not losing you!” He cried out angrily, interrupting her and effectively silencing both sisters. The only sounds in the room were the crackling of the fire, his pocket watch ticking, and his heavy breathing. He sighed.

“I know that your sister would rather you not die because of your protective and impulsive nature. My sister felt the same about me just a year ago.” Anthony admitted, looking down at his boots.

“And I realize that.” Kate responded quietly. “Which is why I rescinded my demand for satisfaction as the ball came to a close. Lord Mountbatten was… strangely understanding, and admitted that his comment was made impulsively, as well. Everything is more than alright now.”

“Oh.” Anthony said aloud, and Edwina breathed a sigh of relief, rushing forward to hug her sister.

“Well, Mountbatten’s foot isn’t,” Kate mumbled as she hugged Edwina, a devilish sort of smile spreading across her face as she caught his eye.

Anthony bit his lip to keep a laugh from escaping him. Good God, how many toes had she stepped on?

Soon after that, as he led the sisters to the drawing room door, Kate nudged his arm with her elbow.

“Why’d you do that?” She asked. “You know, come here to save me from death and whatnot?”

Anthony paused. He didn’t know how to respond. He really didn’t know why he was so set on stopping Kate from dueling. Was it because he knew how quickly one’s life could change due to a single moment, how a family could be irreparably altered by death? Or, perhaps, it was because he was so desperate for her to stop objecting to his suit of Edwina.

“Well,” He said, stalling slightly. “I suppose it’s because I care.”

“Oh.” She sounded genuinely surprised.

“About your sister.” Anthony finished, trying to ignore the way her face hardened. “Losing someone can be terribly difficult, and I would never want my future wife to known that kind of pain so soon.”

Edwina would have to accept his death in nine years, at most, but it wouldn’t matter all that much, since they weren’t likely to get very attached to one another.

“So you wanted to be a hero?” Kate muttered, walking through the doorway and joining Benedict, Colin, Daphne, Edwina, and Lady Danbury.

“I suppose.” He shrugged, and she rolled her eyes.

“Well, you’re not one yet. Keep trying, I suppose,” She replied, before taking Edwina’s arm and heading to the front door, with Daphne in tow. For a brief moment, Anthony wished that he could accompany the sisters home, instead of his sister.

And as he bid Lady Danbury goodbye, prepared to walk back to Bridgerton House to drop off Benedict and Colin, and finally head to his own lodgings, he was struck by the oddest feeling that when he became a hero, Kate would be there to see it.

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chateautae · 3 years

Note

I for duck's sake need help people.....see, I would be very pleased if anyone of you would just help me out....the thing is, I have been in a relationship for like around 3 years and trust me, he is like the most perfect kinda person I have ever met..but now comes the main issue, he has till now, never ever hinted me about doing anything ( the max. we have went is uk till just a little makeout types, ik spoiling my sex life like this sucks but that's why I am going anonymous and I think some of you might have experienced it ig, don't take me wrong, I mean like uk). The good thing is, we both are understanding and extremely working persons (he works as a employee in a business firm and I am a newbie doctor (kinda just started my practice as a doctor)....and even though I am a doctor and that having sex is like a normal thing because we literally studies everything, I still freak out upon thinking about doing it with him....it's not like I am scared or anything but I just want some uk girl tips upon how to actually do it....reading about it is quite, tbh, okay for me, but then doing it is like, a difficult task....i bet you he knows about everything and that's why he hasn't hinted upon anything but like from the past 1 week, he jas been dropping kinda hints ig.....like I won't go into the details, otherwise I would be hella embarrassed, not that I am not right now, I am literally sitting in the washroom typing this ( don't judge me)....while reading about it, it feels so easy to execute everything but then when doing it in real life is like so much like wierd ig....I mean how do I respond to it.....I am nervous and what not.....as 25yo, I sometimes feel wierd that I can't uk do it......can anyone of you just help me please......like some girl tips.....I searched it on Google too, still I don't have the courage.....amd moreover, my friends circle is so wierd amd plus, I am too shy to ask anyone.....ik asking this in such a way and place is way too inappropriate to be even considered normal....it's not like I am not ready for it, it's just I am quite nervous about how to do it.....tbh, he hasn't forced me even once still remained to be sweet and all but internally we noth know, we might wanna step up.....HELP PLZ.....my mom is way too conservative to even have an open conversation about kisses let alone doing it....

Oh hun, you are completely and tOTALLY allowed to come to this blog for any advice and not feel ashamed. This is an 18+ blog and anyone here would be so glad to help you, something like this is totally normal!! I shall leave my words under the cut, though if anyone else would like to help this lovely anon please do not hesitate to drop off a reply or even something in my inbox! I'll answer right away to help anyone wondering the same thing 💓

Alright hun, first and foremost I am so happy your relationship has been so strong! And I'm glad you're with someone who hasn't pushed you or anything into doing anything sexual yet, I'll tell you from experience that can be extremely daunting and uncomfy so I'm super relieved your man has been sweet!!

In terms of real advice, tbh I'm quite the wrong person to go to. I lost my v-card with my first boyfriend when I was 16, literally we were both inexperienced and even the times we did you know, do the deed it was very clumsy and nobody knew what they were doing, and the second person I've been with was a Kiseok situation (if you read maybe I do, yes Kiseok is based on a real person in my life) so fuck that dude. But maybe my own inexperience can also help you out, here are at least some lady tips I can think of:

1. Make sure you're comfortable. I say comfortable instead of ready because I'm quite the believer in if you wait until the moment you're ready, you'll wait your entire life. So my best advice is to make sure you're comfy with the situation and your partner!!

2. Ensure your partner is someone who cares about you. I know everyone's stories are different, and not everyone has sex with someone they've been with for a long time or even love, one night stands are totally okay and I salute you sister. get that dick!!! But even in situations where you're with a stranger, sex is a very intimate thing, and it would make your experience 1000x better if you can at least tell the person cares about you and your body and your wishes during sex. Everyone deserves to be respected during an intimate act like sex and if you feel you're not being respected, whether it's your body, your wishes, your limits, your choices, do not feel obligated to still go through with this person.

3. You have to be wet. Of course not all sexual encounters happen the same way, and every female gets off on different things or turned on by a variety of actions, but essentially you have to be wet for sex. Most men understand this but a lot also don't, basically you gotta get into that juicy foreplay to get wet my girl. Try making out, maybe if you're sitting down swing a leg over his lap and bam you're straddling him. This position is usually optimal because you gain the opportunity to grind against yo man's crotch and my fucking God, does that shit feel hella nice. It's also highkey ego-boosting feeling how much the guy's getting worked up because literally anytime you grind or move over their crotch it immediately spikes to their dick and you can usually feel them against you. If you're standing, try moving to an area that has a wall and keep grabbing at your man's neck, usually men naturally will indicate you to jump and you'll easily be all up against the wall making out, this gets hella fun too cause being carried like that is so 😩

3.2. Okay cool, we're making out, now it's essentially a game of go with the flow. Men usually take the initiative and begin the escalation of things on their own. Maybe he'll start kissing down your neck, his hands are gonna be somewhere at your waist, maybe inching down to your ass or maybe he's an ass guy and he's already palming at yo cheeks. Regardless, I can confidently say you can sit back and relax, let yourself feel, get into the kissing and grinding and if you love the way he's touching you, make some noise and let him know, don't be afraid to be turned on and goddamn horny, dudes love that shit. You however are also allowed to take the wheel, and guys usually search for the greenlight from girls by sensing their movements and how eager they seem for the go-ahead on anything. If maybe you begin tugging at his clothes, they'll usually think "okay, she's okay with this rn" and so on. This part's sincerely just go with the flow, you don't need to rush and honestly the more foreplay the better for getting your puthy wet. Make sure you're comfy and your partner makes sure you're okay with that they're doing to you.

3.3. Whoop dee doo your man's hands are suddenly going, you know, places. Another case of go with the flow, if you're comfortable with your man wanting to do a lil rubby dubby on your kitty then totally let him, this shit feel's god-like I tell you. Maybe I'm just a sensitive ass whore, who knows but something about feeling a man's hands do what your lady fingers can't just HHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. But essentially from here maybe you wanna reciprocate. Get them pesky pants open and feel your man up. Reach inside those boxers and touch that beast he's hiding inside. Make sure to go nice and slow and your hands aren't rough, men's dick are super sensitive and if you go too hard on at least a dry dick it acc hurts them. Men usually leak pre-cum at their tips so try using some of that to slick up your hand.

3.4. That's handjobbing, now if we're getting into oral, very important things to remember. A) retract your teeth, it's hard and it hurts to do it for a long time but teeth will hurt dudes a lot so suck them in and away from their cocks. B) Hollow your cheeks, men like the tightness of a mouth and that's what really gets them going. C) BREATHE THROUGH YOUR NOSE PLEASE DO NOT JUST STOP BREATHING AND TAKE YOUR TIME OKAY BLOWJOBS ARE ACC VERY FUCKING HARD AND FUCK YOU UP especially for someone like me who has a small mouth, yeah that shit sUCKS but nothing is more beautiful than seeing a man fold under your touch. D) Tease yo man a bit, kitten licks and kisses, dragging your tongue over his slit, maybe a pump and then take him out, slick him up with some saliva maybe, anything you feel like doing go ahead girl, that dick is yours for the time being and I promise he'll love it. E) Deep-throating is really when gets guys going cause they only acc feel shit at their tips, so please deep-throat with caution, and take your time if he's a big one, you can acc really hurt yourself especially if you're constantly deep-throating a really big one. F) Go to town girl, get up and bobbing, go down on him like he can't survive without you, go at your own pace and own it. G) Balls usually go neglected and I promise if you even fondle them or grab at them your man will combust.

3.5. Okay so with actual sex, FIRST OF ALL BE SAFE!!!! USE A FUCKING CONDOM, IF YOU DON'T HAVE ONE THEN DON'T FUCK BUT IF YOU'RE STILL HORNY THEN PLEASE RECIEVE SOME MONEY FROM YO MAN FOR PLAN B!!! IT'S NOT ENTIRELY FOOLPROOF THOUGH PLEASE REMEMBER THAT RISK. You can totally go on birth control too but this has its complications, there are also monthly shots you can take and other contraceptives.

3.6. Okay it's sexy times, this is just gonna have to be a thing for you. Everyone's different and has different comfort levels, maybe you can take someone that’s bigger while some women can't and that's fine. Just make sure when he does go in, you feel okay with it. It will hurt if you’re dry and not wet, like hurt a lOT but if you do feel loads of pain just let your partner know to go slower, and let yourself get used to the feeling of something inside. You can always say stop if it hurts too much, seriously it's normal and that's what I did with my first boyfriend. Hell I fucking kicked my ex off me LMAO and he was so sorry and we just ended everything there, and had actual sex the next time I visited him. From here on I've really got no lady tips, essentially it's up to you what you like and what you'll do, get it on!!!

General Tips:

4. Be you, and be confident. I know sex can be really daunting especially when you consider men usually tend to be more experienced, and maybe you become afraid you won't measure up or be as good as his previous partners or you’re not good at sex, but baby girl it ain't about that. This dude is going to have sex with you because he wants to have sex with you, and whether that's his dick speaking for him or his heart, it means he will not be thinking about some other chick he got it on with a year ago, he will be thinking of you and your pretty mouth and what you're doing, focused on touching your body and thinking he loves the way it feels. The more confident you are, the better. You're sexy and pretty and you are desirable babes, let those noises he makes when you touch him drive your confidence, the way he groans a little when you do something, the way he's tugging your body close to yours cause he wants to feel you, it all means he wants you and that's hot, let it boost your lady ego my love. You're allowed to be shy, I totally understand that, and if your partner really cares about you then they'll easily take your hand and guide you through it. Let them know you're a little nervous, and they'll really try to make things more comfy and easier for you because sex is about both parties, not just one.

5. Orgasming is hard, but it's still achievable. Especially in an open, established relationship, really let your man know what turns you on. Let him feel at your cooch while he's penetrating you and I promise that can usually get you orgasming. Other than that, another huge case of doing what you need to do to get yourself off, and always let your partner know. If you’re really searching for an orgasm in a newer relationship or if you’re too shy to say something, then literally just take your man’s hand and place him over your clit and start rubbing with him, he’ll get the hint and start doing it himself.

6. Communication is key. This is obvious, but even if it's dirty talk, usually it's still a way to communicate and see if you're okay. You can ask to go slower, faster, softer, harder, stop altogether or entirely wreck your goddamn shit. Your partner should listen and if they don't, get the fuck out of there and leave that man, he don't fucking deserve you at all, especially in situations where you ask to stop or to slow down cause maybe something hurts, if he doesn't listen here then no, he don't deserve shit and LEAVE. Don't be afraid to make noise either or say something, dudes usually love hearing you. If you don’t like something please let your partner know, I’m sure they’re wondering if you do and would love to hear you communicating.

7. Be clean after you're done woo-hoo-ing. Make sure you're tidy and stuff before putting clothes back on, sex can get messy especially if it's your first time you can bleed. Usually if the dude is a sweetheart enough they'll clean you, which is obviously aftercare uwu.

8. Pee after sex, UTI's are not fun.

9. Your body may also feel weird or go through changes after you have sex for the first time, but that’s normal. Just you body’s response to feeling something foreign inside you.

10. Ladies, remembering during sex that you have power, IT’S YOUR BODY!!!! Whether it’s because you’re totally domming or because your man is super duper sweet and will not do anything unless you want it, sex is meant to be fun and for both parties’ enjoyment. It’s not a chore nor is it something you HAVE to do to keep your man around or something, let yourself have fun girl, you deserve it. The flow of sex and any activities as such are usually dictated by you and what you want, so remember you don’t have to go through with something if you don’t want to. It shouldn’t matter if a dude really badly wants to get his dick wet, this is your body and you are to decide what happens to it. If a man makes you believe otherwise, FUCK THAT DUDE!!!! HE DON’T DESERVE YOU!!! YOU DESERVE LOVE AND RESPECT AND TO BE CARED FOR AS A HUMAN BEING!!

#sammy's advice #sammy files #inbox #anon

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sometimesiwritebadly · 4 years

Text

No Thoughts (Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader)

Summary: After you run into your ex on a case, Spencer’s jealousy causes him to cut you out from his mind. (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Language. Mentions kidnapping. Also a stupid ex-boyfriend.

Notes: Y’know, i really wish i hadn’t hitched my wagon to the whole “ ____ Thoughts” title scheme. if i had known this was gonna be my most successful series on this website i would’ve done something better. but it’s too late now so. anyways this takes place after Overwhelming and before Life-Saving. It’s angsty but don’t worry there’s some fluff at the end. Also i kinda wanted to yell at spencer for how annoying he’s being in this one but then i remembered that i made him act that way so don’t be too mad at me

Word Count: 1.7k

Soulmate Series Masterlist

Masterlist

You’re 3 months into a relationship with Spencer Reid, your soulmate, and you couldn’t be happier. It hasn't been the easiest getting used to having another person in your head, but both you and Spencer have gotten a pretty good handle on controlling your rogue thoughts. It definitely wasn’t perfect, but even the worst days with Spencer were still miles ahead of any day you’d had without him.

You and Spencer were at his apartment, enjoying a rare day off. You were rewatching Doctor Who and cuddling on his couch, arguing over the best and worst companions.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Martha! I just think her being in love with the Doctor was stupid!” You said, laughing at Spencer’s shocked face.

“Stupid? That was brilliant! It showed how the Doctor isn’t this perfect guy like the show made him out to be with Rose!”

“No, it just made it seem like the Doctor was irresistible! It made him seem even more perfect, which is why Donna-” Spencer, scoffed, knowing where your argument was heading, “Is the best companion! She’s the only one who doesn’t want to fuck him!”

Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by his phone ringing. He grabbed it, and once he saw who was on the other side, put it on speaker. “Hey JJ, what’s up?”

“We have a case. Hotch wants everyone here in 30 so we can brief on the plane. Is Y/N with you?”

“Always. We’ll see you soon, JJ.” You responded. Spence hung up the phone and stoof from the couch, before turning back to you and holding out a hand to help you off the couch. “I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong later.”

~~~

After a 6 hour flight, the BAU landed in Seattle. On the plane, Hotch had explained that there had been 3 children taken, all within an hour of each other, from 3 different homes in the area. It’s their job to determine if it’s one unsub, a group, or isolated incidents. After dropping off all their things at the hotel, they made their way to the police station. When they walked in, however, they were greeted by the last person Y/N wanted to see. “Oh fuck me.” She thought.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer had heard her, and was immediately concerned. So much for having control over her thoughts. Before she could answer, the reason for her worry began speaking.

“Nice to meet you all, I’m Detective Rothschild. If you guys need anything, I’ll be the one to help-” He cut himself off when his eyes landed on you. “Y/N? I didn’t know you were in the BAU now, How’ve you been?” The whole team had their gaze turned to you now. You could hear Spencer’s questions about the detective flying through your head, but you ignored them all.

“I’m good James. We can catch up after we find the kids.” And just like that, the topic was dropped. Finding those kids within the first 24 hours was the most important thing right now, but that didn’t stop Spencer’s thoughts. No matter what was going on, Spencer was in your mind, asking you about James.

“C’mon just tell me how you know each other! I promise I’ll focus on the case.” His question entered your mind as the two got ready to head to one of the crime scenes.

“Spence, I told you earlier, we went to college together.”

“Ok, but that’s not all. Why won’t you tell me?”

“I just don’t like talking about it! Please, can we discuss this some other time?” You answered him out loud this time, just to get your point across. You knew you’d have to tell him about your relationship with James, but you would much rather do it when the two of you are alone and not in a police precinct in the middle of a case. Before you could walk out the door and head to the crime scene, you heard someone calling your name. When you turned around, you found James walking towards you. “Great,” You thought.

“Hey, I’ll come with you guys to the crime scene, I haven’t been to this one yet. Plus, I’ll finally get the chance to catch up with Y/N here!” As he spoke, James’ arm found its way over your shoulder. You could practically feel Spencer’s anger.

“Right, well, uh, let’s get going then. I’ll drive.” You subtly pushed James’ hand off your shoulder before speed-walking over to the car.

~~~

The drive to the crime scene was tense, to say the least. James had no problem filling the silence with anecdotes from your college days, which all suggested that the two of you were slightly more than friends. Sure, you and Spencer had talked about your respective previous relationships before, but it was a whole different ball game to be sitting next to your ex-boyfriend and your soulmate.

“Babydoll, you remember when we went to that frat party? We played strip beer pong, and let’s just say she was not very good at the game…” James went on and on, not stopping to let anyone else speak. All you could do was reassure Spencer with your thoughts, but he wasn’t responding. In fact, Spencer hadn’t let a single thought slip throughout the whole ride, and you were more than a little worried. A couple months ago you and Spencer had promised to not shut each other out, and this was the longest you’d gone without hearing any of his thoughts since then. Sure, it was only a 20 minutes drive, but you missed him. By the time you were pulling up to the crime scene, it was clear he’d had enough. The second the car stopped, Spencer practically jumped out and made his way to the crime scene, not waiting for you and James to follow. James took no notice, and continued telling his version of the story.

“And then you just jumped on the table and started dancing! I’ve never seen someone that drunk even be able to stand on a table without falling, let alone dance!” He laughed as the two of you made your way towards the police tape. “I could barely get you home that night!”

His last sentence made you stop walking. Unlike with Spencer, he noticed your movements, and stopped as well. “What?”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Of course that’s what happened, Y/N. You were drunk, you’re probably just-”

“No, that’s not what happened James. Yes, I danced on the table, but you didn’t take me home that night, remember? You met Joslyn at that party, and you broke up with me. I walked home alone.” The crime scene was the furthest thing from your mind at this point. How could he forget the night he met his own soulmate?

“Oh. Right. Joslyn.” It didn’t take a profiler to see how uncomfortable he was. He was acting like he didn’t even remember her. “About that…” He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. He didn’t even need to finish the sentence for you to put the pieces together.

“Oh my god, she wasn’t your soulmate, was she?” The guilty look in his eyes was all you needed as an answer. “You just pretended she was so you had an easy out with me, right?”

“Look, Y/N-”

“James, it’s been a long time, I don’t need an apology from you. Let’s just solve this damn case and never see each other again.” And with that, you walked away.

~~~

13 hours of non-stop work and 3 kids safely home with their families later, you were back on the jet and headed towards DC. Everyone, even Hotch, was asleep, except for you and Spencer. You hadn’t had time to discuss everything that had happened with James, and he still wasn’t sending you any thoughts. So instead of going to sleep like you both desperately wanted, you pulled him to the back of the jet and away from the rest of the sleeping team.

“Seriously, Spence, I miss you. Will you please let me explain now?” You thought, hoping he’d respond similarly. Unfortunately, he just nodded, still refusing to let you into his thoughts.

“Yes, James and I dated back in college, but it was a long time ago, Spencer. He was an asshole. We were never even official, he’d just call me, fuck me, and then not talk to me until he felt like hooking up again.” Spencer was fiddling with his hands as your thoughts made his way to his brain. “Everything about that relationship was a mistake, ok? You know how he dumped me? He pretended to find his soulmate at some party just to get rid of me. I didn’t love him.” When Spencer still didn’t respond, you couldn’t help but feel a little angry. Was he really going to let some random ex get in the way of your relationship?

“I can’t help it, Y/N.” When you finally heard his thoughts, you sighed in relief. That was the longest you’d ever gone without feeling his presence, and even though this wasn’t over yet, you knew you’d get through it. “I know you didn’t love him, but hearing the way he spoke about you, hearing about how you were with him…”

“I know, Spence. I’d be the same way if you had an ex pop out of nowhere during one of our cases. But please, we gotta be able to deal with this. We both had relationships outside of us, this could happen again.”

“Y/N…” He paused for a moment, then continued out loud, “I promise I won’t cut you out like that again. I know you didn’t love him, and I made a big deal out of nothing, but I love you.” Your eyes immediately found his when he spoke. He’d never said that before. He had a light smile on his face when you looked at him. “I love you, and I’m never going to stop.”

“I love you too.” You whispered, before pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you more.” He thought as your lips touched his.

“Not possible.”

~~~

Tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @random-thoughts-003 @peculiarinsomniac @hereforbeebo @someone-you-dontknow

(I went through all the replies/asks that asked about being tagged for this series but if I missed you lmk!!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds au #soulmate au

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pinkpastels113 · 3 years

Text

Give Me a Shot

In light of me recently getting my covid shot and @wolvezzz joining us on Tumblr, here’s a little Bechloe one-shot for you all…

(I had to basically rewrite this due to some stupid mistakes I discovered halfway through in the middle of the night, so I am so sorry if some parts do not seem to add up or are too unrealistic. **I tried**)

(Also, let us just assume that the guy that Stacie is talking about is quarantined with his sister, aka no covid.)

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,571

Pairing: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell

Summary: In which Beca is supposed to get a Covid shot but instead got a dose of something far more nerve-wracking.

End B/C if you squint. One-shot. Fluff? Covid AU.

On ao3 or ff.net or here...

(I have no idea what to put as an excerpt so here we go...)

Beca hands over the clipboard to the lady at the desk and smiles tightly behind her mask in thanks as she receives a post-it note in return.

“Put this on the chair you’re going to sit in and come back to it once you’re done receiving the shot for the fifteen minute observatory period,” the lady says, bored but polite as she recites the practiced line Beca heard her give to several people before her.

“Cool. Thanks.” Beca plays with the sticky part of the post-it note in her hands as she walks over to plop down into the plastic chair next to Stacie.

“I hope we don’t have to wait as long as Amy did when she got her shot last week,” her friend says, rubbing her own post-it note onto the arm of her chair and crossing her legs as she leans back.

“Fuck yeah. Me too. Amy’s took at least two hours.” Beca copies the taller brunette’s actions and sighs as she tilts her head back, blinking leisurely up at the ceiling.

Stacie groans. “I will punch someone if we have to wait that long; I’m already hungry as it is.”

Beca snorts, despite being ninety percent sure that her hangry friend will do just that, “Why didn’t you get something to eat sooner?”

Green eyes flit to the side to look at her, “Boy from last night didn’t understand the definition of a one-night stand.”

Of course. Beca rolls her eyes and laughs, the sound muffled behind the piece of fabric covering her mouth, her chest quivering with mirth at the prospect of a guy refusing to accept that his “lucky shot” with her friend was over, “Seriously?”

“Yep.” The mask on Stacie’s face moves in a way that’s a telling of her pursing her lips, her gaze following her hand as fingers trace the unmarked portion of the arm of the chair her wrist is lying on, “He wouldn’t leave even when I told him that I had to go and get myself some breakfast with my mom before meeting with you to get my Covid-19 vaccine, even going as far as to offer to be my personal chauffeur.”

Beca lowers her head from the back of her chair and raises her eyebrows, “Wow. That’s like, a serious guy looking for a serious relationship, dude. Are you sure your friend would be okay with this?”

Stacie had informed her the night before that the brother of one of her most trusted friends would be staying the night with her doing some...choice activities.

“Yeah,” the brunette wrinkles her nose, “I had made sure that both her and her brother knew that I don’t do relationships.” She then brightens, as if suddenly remembering a thought, “Oh, he texted me too.” Stacie turns around and rifles in her purse for her phone, humming in her mouth as she pushes aside the keys and tampons within, and lets out a small noise of triumph as she whips out her device, “Aha.”

Beca chuckles at the scene but leans forward nonetheless, eager to spend the time waiting for her covid vaccine in doing something else besides counting the water spots on the ceiling tiles above her head, “What did he say?”

Stacie unlocks her phone, bouncing slightly in her seat in suppressed excitement as she goes to tap into her messages, “Look.”

Beca doesn’t think she has ever seen anything more desperate and pathetic in her life than the digital text glaring into her face, “Oh my god, he wants to know where you are at and wonders if he can take you out to dinner? Dude.”

Even through the mask Beca can tell that a sly and catlike grin had unfurled across her friend’s lips, followed by a mischievous wink, “Right? I don’t think I’ve ever had someone this desperate for another round right after the one the night before.” She then cocks her head, adding the next words almost as if it’s an afterthought, “And the one the early morning after.”

Beca shakes her head in disbelief, eyes scanning the multitude of text messages subsequent to the one she had just read aloud, “Maybe he just wants to see if last night and early this morning was a fluke.”

Stacie gasps in mock offense, yanking her cellular device away from Beca’s face, “How dare you, Mitchell. The Hunter is never a fluke.”

Beca just shrugs her shoulders in response, shifting her legs to accommodate the position for her to palm her chin.

She blinks innocently up at her.

Stacie narrows her eyes.

“Stacie Conrad?”

Both brunettes whirl around at the mention of the name, Beca taking in the blonde hair and blue scrubs standing at the entrance to the hallway of doctor offices hidden from view, and she sighs as Stacie grins and jumps up, practically skipping over to the woman holding a pen to another wooden clipboard in her hands.

They disappear from sight and Beca turns back around, pouting slightly as she waits for her turn, the foot that isn’t hanging uselessly in the air tapping impatiently on the floor beneath her chair. Just as she is about to delve into a full on sulk, a melodic voice chirps her name.

“Rebeca Mitchell?”

Fiery red hair and bright blue eyes meet her gaze, and Beca’s mouth goes dry as the woman waves cheerily at her, her entire body freezing in her seat as the organ in her chest decidedly unfreezes, and it is not until the cerulean pools has vanished into a blink that she has realized that she has stared too long and should probably get her ass up and over there.

Beca swallows and nods, and almost trips over her feet in the act of standing up without first uncrossing her legs. Blushing furiously and praying that nobody in the vicinity has noticed besides her awkward and idiotic self, she tugs at the hem of her blouse and quickly makes her way over.

“Hi,” the redhead greets, the smile lines on her cheeks creasing prettily as she crosses out her name with a ballpoint pen, “Rebeca Mitchell?”

“Beca,” she says, automatic in her response to the correction of the name that she has loathed since birth, “It’s Beca.”

She looks up at her, and Beca wants to slap herself in her haste to blurt out the two liner that she usually only reserves for people with whom she wants to be casual with, “Beca.”

Her fingers twitch at the way her name sounds rolling through the air in that sweet melodic tune, and she suddenly wants to find out how it sounds like rolling off her tongue, clear and without the obstacles of the stupid masks blocking its way.

Before she could do much more than tip her chin in acknowledgement, the redhead has twirled around in a flurry of red and blue, and Beca is dutifully following her down the hallway into the office attached at the very end.

At the gesture for her to sit on the stool in front of the wall, Beca sat, and promptly stares as the redhead sets the clipboard on the table before reaching for a pair of new latex gloves, watching the way she snaps them on and pulls a card out of her scrub pocket, drinking in the sight of her tilting her head as she flourishes her pen over the newly revealed card.

She is so fucking gorgeous.

Beca wishes that she is not in the middle of a fucking pandemic.

“So is that with one C or two C’s?” Her question snaps her out of her daze and Beca has to reluctantly pull her gaze away from the smooth expanse of her neck.

“Oh, um,” she gulps to lubricate her throat, sitting up taller to properly project her voice, hoping upon hope that the louder volume will drown out its slight tremble, “It’s actually Rebeca on paper. With one C.”

An inconspicuous murmur floats into her ears, and if Beca hadn’t known any better, she would’ve described it being accompanied with a teasing smile, “I see.”

Her heart pounds in her chest and it’s a big struggle to refrain from squirming in her stool.

The redhead finishes writing on the card and sets that and the pen aside, before slowly making her way towards her. Beca’s eyes stay determinedly on her face—or more accurately, on what she could make of it—her nerves growing more jittery and jumpy by the second, and she finds herself holding her breath as the redhead comes to a stop, feet away. She nibbles on the inside of her cheek as a gloved hand picks up a small package and tears at the seams, taking out an alcohol wipe and shaking it out, before placing the empty pieces of said package back onto the paper on the exam table from which it came from.

Sneakers step forward and then red hair and blue eyes are inches closer.

“Roll your sleeve up for me, please?” Her voice lilts at the end, Beca’s heart instantly mimicking the gesture, and she fumbles with the sleeve of her blouse on her left arm to comply.

The redhead leans forward to rub at the uncovered skin with the cold wipe, causing shivers to emanate from the affected area and spread through and around every nerve ending in her entire upper body, and Beca has to clench her hand into a tight fist to hold herself still.

“Relax,” she says, not moving away even as she sets aside the used wipe as well, removing the cap from the needle from which contained the Covid vaccine. “You need to relax, Becs; the muscle will sore if you don’t.”

Beca’s gaze snaps up, sure that the redhead had just uttered a nickname of her already shortened name, but apart from the fact that her blue eyes seemed to twinkle even brighter—a fact that Beca stubbornly gives credit to the fluorescent light from overhead, in addition to their sudden close proximity—her expression betrays nothing.

She heeds the request and unclenches her fist, and as the prickling feeling signalling the intrusion of the vaccine starts from her arm, a glare on the breast pocket of the redhead’s scrubs catches her eye.

Dr. Chloe Beale.

Huh.

Beca grins, elated at the realization that she had just found out the name of the gorgeous woman standing before her.

She sends up a mental thank you to whoever had the intelligence and generosity of coming up with the invention of name tags.

The prickling sensation resides, and Beca looks over to see that Chloe is done delivering the shot. She makes to lower the sleeve of her blouse, but a gloved hand brushing against her sensitive skin stops her.

“Hold on, I need to give you a Band-Aid.” Despite the blue latex covering her fingertips, Beca can still feel the warmth and tenderness of Chloe’s touch.

Beca nods, dumbly, as Chloe quickly peels off the ends of the Band-Aid and pastes it carefully over the reddening spot. Gloved hands linger, taking the time to rub out every last inch of the two ends of the patch, fingers wrapping lightly against the circumference of her upper arm, and Beca stares with bated breath, suddenly afraid to look at any place else.

She is glad that she is in the middle of a fucking pandemic.

“There.” It is a soft puff of a sound, and if Beca hadn’t already been so close to her face, hadn’t already been close enough to wish that she had the ability to rip off her mask and smell her undoubtedly sweet and floral perfume, she wouldn’t have heard it. “You’re all set.”

Chloe finally steps away, and Beca wishes that she hadn’t spun around so fast because she is pretty sure that she had just sent her a wink.

“So, here’s the card that I have filled out for you, and it’s really important that you bring it back when you return for your second dose,” the card that Chloe had written on earlier is handed over, covered in beautiful, curling black ink, “And you should receive a text in the next hour or so telling you when that second dose is going to be.”

“From you?” The words had left Beca’s mouth without her notice or permission, and it was not until an auburn eyebrow had risen into the air in amusement that Beca had realized what she had said.

“Fuck.”

She covers her face in her hands, only to be embarrassed even further when the evidence of her forgotten boundary scrapes against her palms. She settles for letting out a groan and closing her eyes, laying her elbows onto her thighs and hanging her head in a full manifestation of her humiliation.

Her body feels like it’s on fire and Beca wants the goddamn ground to open up and swallow her whole.

Chloe giggles. “Not from me, silly. From the Department of Health of the state.”

Beca is positive that had she whipped her head up any faster, her neck would’ve snapped. Chloe’s laugh is like a drug. “Yeah, sorry. That was not supposed to come out of my mouth.”

Now that is definitely a wink. “What was supposed to come out then?”

Her jaw slackens, and if Fat Amy was there in the room with her, she would’ve made fun of her for looking like a fish. The heat in her cheeks burn hotter and Beca hastily shakes her head, hopping off from the stool, grateful that she had managed not to trip like the time before. The hard cardstock digs into her lines of her palm of her right hand further with each pulse against the side of her neck, and Beca wills her feet to power walk to the exit of the suffocating room lest she makes even more of a complete and awkward idiot out of herself in front of Dr. Chloe Beale.

Fingers tug on her wrist, and then something small is slapped onto her card. “Here,” Chloe looks like she’s chewing on her lip, “You forgot your sticker.”

Confusion furrows her brows, but something in her hisses at her to not to say a word, especially when sparkling blue eyes dart down the hall agitatedly as if its owner knows that she is doing something she’s not supposed to and if she is caught, she is going to be in major trouble.

There seems to not be enough air in the world for her to suck in, and Beca clutches both the sticker and card tightly against the space between her breasts and speeds down the hallway, her converse squeaking against the floor as she spins to beeline the rest of her way into her yellow post-it noted designated chair.

Stacie looks up from her phone from which 14:39 flashes across her screen and moves her foot out of her way so Beca can sit down, “So? How’d it go?”

Beca finally unleashes the death like grip of her hands, the side effect of her recent dose of something far from a vaccination of a worldwide virus causing her temperature to spike and her body to hyperventilate when ten beautifully, flirtatiously, unabashedly, confidently written digits wink at her from the back of the tiny sticker. “Like how it’s supposed to. I got a shot.”

I think this is gonna be my one and only covid related fanfic; it was absolutely exhausting to write, and I am still 98% sure that I haven’t fixed all the mistakes… XD.

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe au #bechloe oneshot #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fanfiction #beca x chloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe fluff #stacie conrad #covid au #mine #middle of the night #I don’t know what I’m doing #i need to sleep

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thatfilthyanimal · 3 years

Text

I really don't want to vent here but I also don't want to overload my friends so I'm just going to do it and suck it up, fuck it.

I feel pretty fucking horrible in a very deep way and I don't know how to talk to people about it. This started up around the beginning of April and I thought it was in relation to April just being generally rough on me because of how my dad died, but it hasn't let up yet. If anything, I feel worse. Way worse.

I'm guessing I need to raise the dosage of my medication and I'm actually really heartbroken about that in a way I don't know how to describe. How am I supposed to feel if shit is so horrible I have to take the highest possible dosage I can safely take of a medication? How am I supposed to feel calling up a psychiatrist I just told two months ago my dosage was stable and I was feeling great, to tell her "ha ha ha I high key hate life and want to die again, please, raise my shit so I can hold up the illusion that I'm not a fucking lost cause a little longer?"

So... some of the only stuff I'm really comfortable touching on here is the whole transphobia at the doctors, thing. After spending most of 2020 living at doctors because of unknown stomach pain and just trying not to fucking die from something during a global pandemic I'm at a loss now. Nobody ever figured out my pain issues, I've just changed around what I eat and it seems better... Sort of? But mostly my existence in general hurts because coming out as trans to my newer doctors has been... uncomfortable. Now it feels like every time they "ma'am" me or pointedly call me "a woman" or "female" in a phone call (where I'm specifically asking for help regarding getting on testosterone) I want to claw myself out of my own skin and bury myself deep in the ground where nobody ever has to see me again.

Literally all the shit that I was terrified of that kept me from admitting to myself I was trans this entire time is fucking real and-- I'm weak, I'm fucking weak and scared and tired because I've never needed so much help with something so desperately in my life and the ONE PLACE I should be able to get help from I'm... terrified of, now. I just want to cancel all my future appointments and just never leave my house again because what is the fucking point. I'll never look right and I'll never be taken seriously and my weight is always an issue some-fucking-how regardless of the actual problem, so just. Fuck. Why leave. Why go anywhere. Why try to take care of myself anymore just. why.

I knew this would happen if I came out, I knew admitting I was trans would be a challenge of my ability to continue to love myself and... you know, I do, I do love myself, and coming out has proven that more than anything, but the cost of that almost feels like it outweighs the euphoria of being myself.

But now I'm in that weird middle-state of my body and voice not "matching" my gender and nobody taking said gender seriously and. What do I do. I'm so terrified of this happening at another doctor's office that it hurts to try to reach out. Literally the nearest doctors that might help me are an hour and a half out in Chicagoland, if not Chicago proper. And things feel so uncomfortable here where I am that I may literally need to drive that hour and a half just for basic health care, not just the hormone therapy and. Like. It hurts.

If I had figured this out sooner while I was in Champaign, there was an endocrinologist there and the city was super LGBTQIA+ friendly and I'm kicking myself for not doing something before I moved three hours away. Getting help could have been maybe a 15 minute drive in my own city instead of an hour and a half into the heart of Chicago, which, btw, I fucking hate driving in because everyone out there drives like a crazy asshole.

Idk. I'm tired and I'm scared and worn down and I don't know how to ask for help. I tried with one of my local friends but, well, their life is busy and its always "oh I forgot to ask my friend about that place here that would help you, sorry, there's been so much going on" but. It's been months now. They were the one that suggested I reach out to said people about whatever place it is, and I don't want to be rude but also... are you going to help me? Because it sounds like my sorry ass is stuck going to Chicago in a global pandemic to get T and I'm really upset about it.

Like, if my friend can't even see it as important than I guess I just have to do everything alone. Just like I've had to with BPD.

This is getting way longer than I meant, and it's not even the worst thing just. I'm feeling vulnerable and isolated as hell and I need more support than I have and I'm too scared to ask for it. And most of the people I know can't do jack or shit about it because there's really nothing they can do, so like. Why ask them. Why tell them. Idk.

I'm talking to a therapist too, have been for months, and she's nice but she's not great for trans issues. She's supportive but it's not her specialty. Because I have borderline I have to kind of choose my battles when it comes to therapists... There are therapists that handle BPD and therapists that handle trans issues but my insurance doesn't cover one that specializes in both at once in this town. And BPD is super misunderstood-- the wrong therapist may admit me for just passive suicidal ideation not realizing it's a common and (generally non-life-threatening) part of BPD that doesn't hold real threat. Getting a therapist for trans issues that doesn't know how to read the weight of my depression/anxiety/suicidal thoughts and call them correctly is dangerous and... that's its own problem. I have to choose my battles here and it's really hurting me.

Like I really don't know what to do. Do I get a second therapist and risk that they may not understand BPD and may be overwhelmed and scared to work with me? God. I've never had two therapists at once and the thought is... idk. It hurts.

I just want to feel okay, and I don't. And I'm more tired and scared and feeling misunderstood than I've ever been and the idea of reaching for help is terrifying me. This feels like stuff I should only be unloading on a therapist, not my friends... my friends deserve better than that. But also I'm well aware of how my friendships will go if I start to use them to vent and seek help like this.

Idk. I wish I knew how to talk about everything that's wrong right now but I... can't. It sounds horrible and mean when I say it all and I don't want people to look at me like I'm fragile and someone to pity, but that seems to be my life and how people are going to view me. I basically exist as an example of what not to be. So. Idk. I'm tired and I want help but I'm scared to ask for it.

Past friends have taught me that if I seek help and cry to them that I'm a Problem that they need to distance from and. It hurts. There may be friends that do genuinely want me to come to them and I don't know how to try; the idea scares the shit out of me. Everyone I've ever opened up to (besides my partner) has eventually grown sick of me and I can't handle losing what support I have right now.

I need to hush cause this sounds blamey and I don't mean it that way. My life is just... highkey fucked and I'm trying to hold on and struggling about it.

I don't regret finally admitting to both myself and everyone else that I'm trans, but fuck, the weight of this level of medical rejection on top of the BPD feelings interfering with my ability to reach to friends for help just... it's so much. And I feel guilty complaining about it at all.

And every time I post something public about it I'm just giving people insight on why they should avoid me, or worse, exactly what they can do/say if they want to hurt me.

#personal #bpd #trans issues and dysphoria yayyy #suicidal ideation yaaaaaaaaay #come to filthy's brain where we have #sadness!#regret!#dread!#trust issues!#fear of abandonment!!#it's great it's fun and I'm definitely not typing tags to stall hitting the post button hoooo #shit

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drethanramslay · 4 years

Text

A funny thing called Fate- Prologue

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Aisha Khurrana)

Word Count: 2.8K words

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warning: None really, just a little cursing

Author’s note: I had been listening to Strawberries and Cigarettes by Troye Sivan and that is actually the primary spark which led me to come up with this series. Shout out to @mvalentine and @anotherbeingsworld fo letting me bounce my crazy ideas <3

AHHH so it is finally here!! This is my first time writing Bryce so I hope I can do justice to this beautiful man. This starts with Aisha’s (MC) POV and like I said, there will be a time jump. It would be first person when I’m writing in the past and then it will shift to third person when I’m writing the present. I think i should stop my rambling and let’s go!!

Terms you need to know-

-Bhaiya: Brother in hindi

-Beta: Technically it means ‘son’ but in most Indian families its used like a term of endearment too

- AIIMS, Delhi: Stands for All India Institute of Medical Sciences. This is one of the best medical schools in the country and Only 100 people out of 200,000(or more) get in. So it is very cut throat.

10 years ago- Aisha's PoV

(Age: 16)

I am done.

Done with all the drama, done with all the lies, done with all the manipulations and done with all the heartache.

And most of all, I was done with him- the infamous Bryce Lahela.

The boy with the stupid long hair, the stupid signature smirk and the stupid charm. Those amber eyes which reminded you of the sand and sea and those lips on which an everlasting smile played used to be like a breath of fresh air. I always thought that he was so unique, but boy was I wrong.

All boys are the same.

I really thought that jocks like him would be different huh? Can someone just hand me my clown shoes?

But luckily, I don't have to see his face ever again because for once, instead of making a mockery of my existence, life decided to give me something that I really wanted badly.

A chance to leave all of this in my past. A chance to start over again.

My dad had a better business opportunity back in Mumbai. I am an Indian and we lived in Delhi since the time I was born but we shifted to Mauii when I was in the ninth grade because of how demanding dad's job was getting

Bhaiya chose to stay back in Delhi because his engineering college was there and he enjoyed the hostel life way too much. And he had finally managed to get out of our toxic household so I really could not blame him.

So yeah.. that is how I ended up in Maui in the first place.

It was okay in ninth grade. I kept to myself and blended in with the shadows (because hello social anxiety!). But... Tenth grade changed everything.

It was one of the best and worst year of my life and I often wonder if I could ever get over this.

I am definitely sounding like one of those over-dramatic Indian soap operas my mom watches every night.

"Aisha? Are you ready? The car is here beta."

"Yes, Mama. I am coming!! Just packing up some stuff."

Breaking out of my reverie, I stuffed in my phone and other essentials into my carry bag. As I was zipping up my luggage, I yanked open my closet door to see if I left anything behind my eyes landed on the shoebox I had stuffed in the back of my closet.

I gulped and I felt tears well up in my eyes again. A part of me wanted to take it for it had all the trinkets of the good things in my relationship with Bryce but, another part of me knew that if I took it with me, I would never be able to move on and that would completely defeat the purpose of this fresh start I have been looking forward to.

So with a heavy heart, I looked away and shut the door of the closet, picked up my luggage and left.

As the Uber pulled out of the curb I stared out of the window, to look at the beaches I had come to love and hate.

I liked Maui, I really did but all that it was reduced was a place where I was humiliated and belittled.

And it was all his fault.

PRESENT

(Age: 27)

"Oh my god. I'm gonna late!!" Aisha screeched as she saw the time on her phone. She shoved the duvet off her and jumped out of bed. She tried running to the bathroom in her small closet-sized apartment but it just ended up with her stubbing her toe against the coffee table.

"Ow ow ow." She cursed as she hobbled into the washroom and got on with her daily chores. Her hand-eye coordination was already awful and add that she was sleep deprived just made the entire thing worse. Stumbling, tripping, cursing she managed to brush her teeth and hop into the shower. The burst of cold water managed to wake her up as she furiously washed.

Why did I have to move into a room under a busy staircase?! This is why bhaiya says- Do your research. She angrily thought to herself as she wiped herself rigorously and zipped open her suitcase, searching for her semi-formal clothes.

Grabbing a granola bar and her trusty thermos of coffee, she was on her way to Edenbrook.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

As she entered the atrium, she was in complete awe. It looked big and majestic on the outside, with a clever mix of brick walls and the glass facade, making it look welcoming. Sunshine poured through the atrium as the various doctors and nurses worked around her, not giving mind to the clueless intern gawking.

"Hi, I'm Dr Ines Delarosa, a senior resident!! You look lost. Let me guess... the first day of residency?" A short woman in a doctor's coat walked up to her breaking Aisha from her awe, her aura full of happiness, rainbows and unicorns which made Aisha a little vary.

Is it normal to be this happy and energetic?

Aisha nodded hesitantly and the resident smiled a hundred-watt smile. "Great. You are gonna need a photo ID. Follow me, I will get you all set up." Wordlessly Aisha followed Ines, slinging her messenger bag over her shoulder, nervously playing with the strap.

It is going to be fine... Aisha breathed out as she entered a room with a white background and a camera before it. "Just step over here, in front of the camera and smile."

And waste my energy? No thanks.

She schooled her features to be as professional as she could and the flash of the camera went off. Aisha walked over the tangled wires and peeked at the screen. A serious face stared back at her, the lighting doing good to her brown skin. Her nose piercing caught light and her dark mahogany hair was tied up in a neat ponytail.

"Is it okay? Or do I need to retake the photo?"

"No, it is great! I like it. Thank you."

"Well I will just stick this on your ID.... and you are good to go!! I wish I looked that good in my ID." She said and cheerfully and once her eyes fell on the title a smile made its way on her face,

Dr Aisha Khurrana... It is real and it is true.

"My first day as a real doctor." she whistled lowly shaking her head as if she didn't believe it.

"I was in your shoes last year. Believe me, med school was nothing compared to this. Your three years of residency will be the toughest, most amazing year of your life!! But the first year as an intern will be the craziest of all."

As soon as the smile had graced her features, it slipped away and she nodded seriously. "I think I am ready for it. I have been dreaming and slogging my ass so that I could work in Edenbrook. Ever since I learnt that Ethan Ramsey worked here. His research basically pushed me to apply for med school."

Also, the fact that my parents can like shut up about me being worthless.

"That is great. I will just walk you to the locker room so that you can change into scrubs." Ines offered and Aisha gave her a small smile.

"So... Any advice?"

"Make friends..."

And I am out. She thought to herself. She always struggled with making friends and that is partly the reason why she would keep to herself all the time. Sure she did make a few gem of a friends in med school but if she had to choose between mingling with strangers and drowning, you know what she would choose.

"... with your interns, year senior residents, even your patients! Friends will get you through anything. And, uh, try to not annoy the Attendings! You do not want to get on your boss's bad side."

"Noted."

After changing she was just passing through the waiting room so that she could get to the orientation when she heard gasps from the seating area. A woman had collapsed on her seat and the people were crowding around her.

Her instincts kicked in and she ordered. "Give her space. Everybody step back! I'm a doctor."

She hurried over to the woman just as another doctor rushes in. He kneeled at her side and checked her pulse. "Pulse is weak. She's unresponsive." He looked up and his eyes landed on her.

"You Rookie. Get here."

"Right away doctor. Coming!" Aisha hurried over as the doctor lifted the fainted woman on to the nearby gurney.

"What was she coming in for? Did she fill out a form yet?"

"No, she'd just walked in."

The doctor's piercing blue eyes landed on her which made her straighten her back. "If we don't figure out what's wrong with her fast, she's going to die on this table. Rookie, check B.P."

Wrapping the blood pressure cuff around the unconscious woman's arm and she pumped the bulb, peering at the numbers.

"It's plummeting. She's hypotensive. We've gotta get fluids in her."

Aisha's eyes wandered over the woman's form, trying to search for more clues. Her eyes landed on the rapidly forming bruise on her elbow.

"Doctor... Look at this bruise. I think it's a sign that she is a haemophiliac."

The doctor replied in a gruff voice. "You think or you know?"

"I know."

"Good. Also can you see the way her fingertips are turning blue? It is a sign of low oxygen saturation in the blood. Take a closer listen to her lungs. Hurry."

She nodded assertively and slipped the resonator of the stethoscope over the ribs, straining to hear the diminishing whooshing of the lungs which made Aisha gulp in fear.

"Can't hear anything on the left side and the right side is struggling. She is going to suffocate at this rate." She spoke up , her voice struggling to stay calm but as she glanced at the older doctor, he seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

"Nurse we have got a code blue." His authoritative voice boomed over as the nurses bustled around the gurney.

Taking the bag mask from the nurse, he secured it around the patient's mouth and gently pump air into her lungs.

"What do we do, Doctor? What's happening to her?" She asked as she noticed the reducing breath rate.

He looked up. "Consider all the clues. It's all there. You know this, Rookie."

Aisha closed her eyes and took a deep breath, realigning her focus, delving deep into her mind, analyzing the clues.

Hemophilia... low blood oxygen... no lung expansion on one side...

Her brown eyes snapped open as it struck her. "It's a haemothorax!"

A twinkle of approval flickered in the ocean eyes, which vanished as soon as it came. "Precisely. A blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity..."

"... Blocking her lungs from expanding! That's why she can't breathe." Aisha completed the sentence.

Fuck.

"But we can't repair the blood vessel over here."

The older doctor's jaw clenched. "Then we will have to do a emergency thoracotomy to drain the cavity instead. Nurse!"

The nurse hustles around handing her a scalpel and a chest tube, her eyes widening in shock.

She gulped, her nervousness spiking as she sees the doctor lift the shirt of the patient, exposing the side of her rib cage.

"We need a local anaesthetic-"

The doctor interrupted her. "We're out of time and she is already unconscious. Do it now, or the woman's life is on you!!"

She gritted her teeth with determination. I am not loosing a patient on my first day.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. It is just like anatomy class only... this isn't a cadaver but a real person.

But that statement, instead of calming her, it just caused the scalpel to shake in her hand.

The doctor reaches and encompasses her hand. "Hey... You can do this."

Aisha nods stabilizing herself and focusing solely on the older doctor's voice, before she looked down.

"There you go... Nice and easy."

Incision at the fifth intercostal space... anterior.. to the mid axillary line...

And when she was confident enough, she made the perfect incision, a trickle of red following the path of the scalpel.

"Now the tube."

She took and pushed it into the incision and with a spurt, blood started draining out of the chest cavity resulting in the patient to take a deep breath.

Holy shit I did that. I freaking did that.

In the daze of endorphins, she heard the doctor order her surgery, the nurses wheeling the gurney and the onlookers applauding.

She turned towards the attending, excitement pouring out of her in waves. "Doctor.. that was absolutely amazing!!"

It's was as if a switch flipped and the grumpier and sarcastic facade took place. "You're right. It is pretty amazing you didn't get her killed."

Aisha's jaw dropped.

"Wait, what?"

The doctor rambled off, pointing out her mistakes. "Your examination was slow and superficial. Your scalpel technique, amateur at best."

It took all her might to not scoff.

Excuse me I graduated from AIIMS Delhi, thank you very much.

Swallowing the dying need to go off she spoke in a professional tone. "Amateur? I'm sorry, doctor but it is my first day."

"Well, that is not an excuse you can use because if that patient would have died, the blood would have been on your hands..." He lifted the badge attached to her breast pocket scrutinizing on the surname.

"... Khurrana."

He tossed the id back to her, turned on his heels and walked away, leaving a steaming Aisha in her place.

"What a dick." She muttered under her breath.

"Yeah and I'm totally in love with him." A nurse appeared magically out of thin air near her, causing her to jump in surprise.

The kind eyed nurse just rolled his eyes and placed a hand on her shoulder which had Aisha bristling. "Don't worry about it, Dr Ramsey is like that to everybody."

Aisha's jaw dropped for the second time. "Wait... Dr. Ramsey as in Dr. Ethan Ramsey?!"

Shooting a knowing glance, he spoke up. "I take it, you're a fan?"

"He's only my medical hero and greatest inspiration. I've read all his research!" Aisha rushed off, horror and excitement rushing through her.

Oh my god I managed to piss of my one medical hero.. I'm such a dumbass.

Noticing the horror of her expression he gave a gentle smile. "On the bright side, you'll get plenty more chances to impress him."

She sighed and looked down to see that her scrubs were stained with blood.

First impression is last impression beta, always remember that. Her father's voice resonated in her mind.

"Dammit, I'm here for five minutes and I'm already a mess. I can't show up to orientation like this!"

"Don't sweat it. There are extras in the locker room. Come I will show you the way..."

She walked into the locker room, looking for her assigned locker. There was a crowd of half naked interns and after mumbling a couple of 'excuse me's', and rubbing shoulders (literally) she made it the end of the room.

As she turned she knocked into another woman in nothing but her undergarments.

"Uh...um.. okay then." Aisha stuttered as she felt the back of her neck heating up.

Thanks to my brown skin no one can see me getting flustered.

"What? See something you like?" She asked cheekily in an Indian accent which eased Aisha up a bit.

"Ha, you wish."

"Aren't you cute?" The woman snickered as she reached for her pants.

"That's what people say, so it must be true."

She reached for her full sleeve shirt before looking Aisha's way. "Desi?"

Aisha snorted. "Obviously. And I'm guessing you too."

"Of course. And I'm guessing that you are definitely not wearing those scrubs."

"What? Didn't you hear? Bloody clothes are like the new trend around here."

There was a moment of silence before both of them started laughing.

"It's good to meet someone from home." Aisha spoke as she pulled her scrub shirt off.

"Woah, woah, woah. Don't count on that yet. I need to see if you are gonna get in my way in this competition."

Aisha smirked as she shut her locker. "Can't say I'm surprised. Can't be desi if the sense of competition isn't ingrained in your DNA."

"Oh my god never thought that I would see Jackie's twin." A familiar manly voice wafted over to them.

Wait a second...

"Shut up scalpel jockey, this is our kind of bonding."

"Oh please, don't scare the newbie aw- oh."

Oh.

She was standing right in front of him. Face to face. The playful amber eyes, with flecks of brown hadn't changed. The long shoulder length hair had been cut and styled to be short and messy.

There was no trace of the surfer boy she met in Maui. He was a man through and through but still, the youth in his eyes poured out in waves, reminding her of the sandy beaches.

But right now those amber eyes were wide with shock.

It's not everyday that you meet your ex of ten years in the locker room of your new job.

"Aisha?"

".... Bryce?!"

HEHEHEH AWKWAARRDDD

Like, comment, reblog and let me know what you think

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#anushka writes #oh bryce #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #open heart bryce #open heart #open heart mc #open heart fanfiction #open heart fandom #choices #choices oh #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #pixelberry #Aisha Khurrana #a funny thing called fate

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celosiaa · 4 years

Note

hi me again 🥺 sorry for making you tear up even if it was in a good way (hopefully?) 💕 i don’t mind the wait at all, i completely understand and it’s 100% worth it (honestly i get so excited whenever you post a new fic)!! soooo... i was doing some research for a project on epilepsy and i got thinking about epileptic martin?? like particular in s1 maybe he didn’t tell the other archives crew as he didn’t know them that well/hadn’t worked closely with them before (ok sorry tbc as i am rambling)

hello friend!!! I am so sorry that this took me a literally unreasonable amount of time to write! I really enjoyed the research I did for this, and I love this hc forever. And I hope this is what you were looking for <3

CW seizures, nausea, misgendering

Focus.

Just focus.

For god’s sake.

It’s been nearly an hour of Martin sitting at his desk, trying desperately to rein in any sliver of concentration he can muster to look at the laptop screen before him. He feels awful doing it, but every time Jon has passed by his desk that day, he’s found himself pretending to click around or to type—though he’s got the brightness set so far down there’s no way he’d be able to see it anyway. After a few attempts at turning it back up, he’s had to immediately look away, as the pounding behind his eyes resumes again. So for now, he’s stuck with reading statements—something he is loathe to do even on a good day.

And this certainly wasn’t.

He knows better than this, knows that he’s very nearly approaching disaster—what with the not sleeping out of hypervigilance, not eating out of anxiety, and not having his seizure meds for the past two days, as he’d managed to run out of his flat without them. And there’s no doubt in his mind that he cannot send anyone back to his flat. Not with Prentiss still on the loose.

Selfish selfish selfish

No, stop it.

You haven’t even done anything.

Wishing more than anything that his mind did not constantly run him ragged with thoughts like this, Martin looks up from his papers, intending to find a rubber band to snap against his wrist as a distraction, but instead—

Instead he finds himself frozen, colors fading in and out across his vision, heartbeat steadily climbing as his fingers go numb.

No no no no

Not now not now please not now

Realistically, he knows it’s only been a few seconds, but the seconds feel like years against the rapid thrum thrum thrum in his ears, made even worse when he sees Tim approaching from the periphery.

Damn it damn it

Please please please

“Hey Marto!”

Like clockwork, the focal aware seizure ends, and at last—at last he is able to move enough to look up at where Tim stands, leaning against his desk, smile fading rapidly as he watches Martin blinking in the suddenly-too-bright light.

“You alright?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at his face, doubtless taking note of how quickly he is breathing now to match his settling heart rate.

“Y-yeah, sorry, um. Was just thinking,” is all he can reply, fighting to put an easy smile back on his face.

It seems to have been the wrong move, as Tim only shifts to sit atop his desk, expression quickly becoming overrun with concern.

“Okay, well…you look like you’re having a panic attack, mate,” he says lowly, reaching across him to grab his water bottle and set it nearer to him. “What do you need?”

Even with his misguided interpretation, Martin can’t help the flood of affection he feels toward him in this moment—because that’s just Tim, isn’t it? Never assumes, just asks what will help and then does it.

If only I weren’t such a mess, and would let him.

“Oh, n-no it’s not—it’s not that, Tim, I’m—I’m alright. Must’ve…drifted off, or something. Had a nightmare.”

There is no way Tim buys that, no way in hell—but thankfully, he lets it go.

“O…kay then. Well. If that’s the case, I was just thinking of grabbing some lunch, do you want anything? Don’t reckon you’ve eaten properly in a bit, yeah?”

God, Tim.

I don’t deserve this.

Yes, you do. You deserve a friend and you need to eat.

You need to eat.

“Uhh—th-thanks, erm. Where—where are you going?” he asks, wishing to god his voice didn’t sound so shaky.

He takes a few intentionally deep breaths after that—thinking that perhaps it is a panic attack, after all. Without realizing that several seconds have gone by since his question, he feels Tim’s bracing hand on his shoulder, knowing that he’s not going to ask again—but offering him a clear sign that he’s there all the same.

“Just the corner shop,” he murmurs, starting to rub his thumb over the shoulder seam of Martin’s t-shirt. “Nothing fancy. But I can get you a sandwich, if you like. Well, no—I am getting you a sandwich regardless, but I thought I might be considerate for once and ask if there was anything in particular that you want.”

“Yeah—erm, yeah, just. Anything that’s warm would be nice,” he says at last, sinking a bit as Tim removes his hand from his shoulder. “Thanks, Tim. That’s—that’s really kind.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously,” he says, clapping his hand back against Martin’s shoulder with force before standing. “Be back in a bit. Drink that water.”

“I will,” Martin nods, earning himself some finger guns of approval before Tim starts walking towards the lift. “Thanks, mate.”

And he’s so close now, so close to shouting after him, to asking him to pick up his meds from the chemist, if he calls them in—

Just ask just ask just ask

—and then Tim is around the corner, and out of sight.

Damn it all.

He tells himself it’s probably for the best anyway—that he’s not really even sure he can get them. But it doesn’t stop him burying his face in his hands, tugging at his hair in frustration and shame. Really though, he ought to call first before mentioning anything—perhaps they have a delivery service, or they’ll refuse him, or something.

And what then?

The idea of finding himself suddenly on the floor of the archives, alone and in the dark with the worms having crawled all over him while he seized—

Have to call.

Reaching bitterly for his phone, he takes a deep breath as it rings, preparing his best “customer service” voice.

“Boots, how can we help you today?”

“Hi! Erm, I was wondering if—if I could get a refill for my prescription? For—for carbamazepine,” he says, cheery voice belying the dread with which he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Sure thing! Just need your name and date of birth and I’ll look you up.”

“Right. Erm—well, it’s Martin, but I think you’ve still got me under, erm. Mary Blackwood,” he says, forcing himself not to grit his teeth at the foul taste his deadname leaves in his mouth. “Date of birth October 15th, 1987.”

“Alright, let’s see here—“

Please please please

“—it looks like you’ve already got your refill, Miss Blackwood. Our system says you picked up your medication on the 19th.”

“It’s—it’s Mister, actually. Erm,” he stammers, stomach churning over the entire thing. “L-listen, I—I’ve had to leave my home quite suddenly, and—and I am unable to return there for the time being. So I don’t—I don’t have access to my meds. And I, erm. Really need them.”

Pathetic pathetic pathetic

“I’m really sorry, Mister Blackwood. You’re going to have your doctor call in another prescription for you before we can get you that refill. Unfortunately, it’s out of our hands.”

Of course.

“Oh, right. That’s erm—that’s okay. Thank you so much,” he says as brightly as possible, unwilling to blame anyone for something out of their control.

“You’re quite welcome. Take care.”

With a long, shaky sigh, Martin throws his phone back onto his desk, returning his head to its rightful place, buried in his hands. There’s no way he can call his doctor today—or tomorrow even, with it already being a Friday afternoon. No chance of him getting his refill, then. And no chance of sending Tim back to his apartment either.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

It was just a focal, nothing too bad.

Nothing unmanageable.

I can make it.

Steeling himself with somewhat tremulous determination, he takes another long breath—blinking back against the steady pounding in his head, and getting back to work.

—

“Aw come on, Sasha! Take a break with me!”

“Not on your life. I’m still furious with you, you know,” she replies, tossing her hair like a lion’s mane over her back. “Can’t believe you’d go all the way to the good café for Martin, and not offer me anything. Not even crumbs, Stoker!”

“Listen—” Tim grins back, hands raised in self-defense. “He looked like he could use some soup! I don’t know what else to say.”

“And you didn’t get me any? What about me doesn’t scream ‘I could use some soup, thank you?’”

“It’s different!! It’s—Martin? You alright?”

As he was walking past their bickering, eyes firmly fixed on the floor on the lookout for worms, Martin had suddenly stopped short—looking anxiously up and over their heads, framed by the doorway of Jon’s office.

“Martin?” Tim repeats, already halfway to standing in worry, following Martin’s gaze behind him and finding nothing.

Faster than he can turn back around, Martin’s muscles all tense at once—and he tips backwards onto the floor with a heavy thud.

“Shit! Martin!”

Tim darts forward at once, in some feeble attempt to catch him, but of course, far too late to do so. In his shock, he can do little but stand over him for a few seconds, taken aback upon seeing his eyes still open where he lies still on the floor.

“What happened?” Jon demands, stepping quickly out of his office towards them, where Sasha now crouches near his head.

“I-I don’t know, he just—”

And then Martin begins to convulse.

“Oh my god, he’s—he’s having a seizure,” Sasha gasps as she claps a hand over her mouth, from where it had been pressed against his forehead.

“Fuck. Fuck, what do—what do we do? Do we call 999?” Tim shouts, unwilling to sit by and watch as this all goes on around him, already grabbing Sasha’s phone from her nearby desk.

“I—I think so, let me—”

“Wait.”

Two sets of eyes land upon Jon as he interjects, crouching near Martin’s flailing left arm, waiting for him to set it back down before quickly grabbing at a bracelet circling his wrist.

“I-it’s a medical bracelet. Says epilepsy,” he says lowly, quickly sitting back on his heels as Martin’s arm begins to jerk again.

“Fuck. I—I had no idea,” Tim breathes, running an anxious hand through his hair. “How could we not know?”

“We should—” Sasha breaks off quickly to swallow a lump in her throat, before continuing. “We should be timing it, did anyone see the time?”

“I-I don’t—it’s probably been less than a minute, right?”

“I think so. I’m—here, I’m googling it to make sure—”

While she does so, Martin’s head begins to slam into the ground—and Jon immediately pulls off his cardigan, folding it quickly and placing it beneath him to cushion the blow.

“It’s alright, big guy,” Tim says, settling down to kneel next to Jon, who now has a hand gently pressed to his shoulder—not holding him down, just resting there in a comfort Martin probably cannot receive.

Tim rests his own hand against Martin’s thigh all the same.

“Okay, I think we’re good so far,” Sasha says at last, setting her phone down with a timer running on the screen. “Just time it, and—and keep watch. If it goes past five minutes, we call 999.”

“That’s—that’s it?” Tim says in dismay, snapping his eyes back to his friend, still convulsing on the floor. “There’s nothing else we can do?”

“No. We just have to watch out for him,” she replies, voice low as she adjusts Jon’s cardigan beneath his head. “Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

Not the answer that Tim was looking for.

And so they wait—silent save for the rhythmic smacking of his limbs against the carpeted floor, and the occasional whispered platitude, though all know he cannot hear them. The seconds tick by in agony while they sit helpless, all eyeing the timer on Sasha’s phone creeping up steadily past three minutes.

“I don’t like this,” Tim says, knowing how useless it is to say so—Sasha raising her eyes to meet his for the first time in a while.

“Me neither.”

“Nearly three and a half minutes,” Jon mutters, worrying at his bottom lip while still resting a gentle hand on Martin’s shoulder.

“We’ve got you, Martin,” Tim mutters. “We’ve got you.”

Ten more seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Forty.

And at last—at last he goes still, right past the four-minute mark.

“Alhamdulillah,” Jon sighs as he lets his chin briefly rest against his chest, a sentiment echoed by everyone around him.

“Okay, turn him on his side, here—Tim—”

“Got it,” Tim says as he moves to crouch next to her, helping roll him towards Jon, head pillowed on the arm Jon stretched out across the floor as a cushion.

As soon as they get him in the recovery position, they watch as saliva runs out of his mouth, surely fit to choke him had they not turned him—and he begins to snore forcefully, catching Tim very much by surprise.

“Wh-what—” he asks in bewilderment, struggling to hold back a bit of shocked laughter.

“The website said that’s normal,” Sasha assures at once, reaching behind her to grab a box of tissues from her desk behind her. “He’s going to be sleepy for a bit.”

“Okay. That’s—okay,” he says, watching as Jon takes the tissues from Sasha and wipes at Martin’s face so very gently, before tossing them aside and taking his hand.

Taking his hand.

…interesting.

Stowing THAT away for later.

As Jon starts to move his thumb across the back of Martin’s palm, the snoring stops—and his eyes begin to flutter rapidly, attempting to force their way fully open.

“Hey Martin, can you hear me?” Sasha says rather loudly, bending over him and tapping his shoulder lightly.

All she receives in response is a moan, deep and low, as he squeezes and unsqueezes his eyelids, coughing a bit against the pooling saliva. Jon reaches for the tissues again at once, cleaning his face as best as possible.

“You’re okay mate,” Tim says, patting his hip before leaving his hand there for support. “You’ve had a seizure.”

It takes a few moments, but at last, Martin opens his eyes, looking vaguely around without meeting Jon’s eyes.

“Wh’ happ’n?” he slurs—all three of them exchanging a meaningful glance, a bit alarmed.

“You had a seizure, Martin,” Sasha repeats, stroking at his hair while Tim starts rubbing his hand up and down his arm, hoping it will somehow help to ground him.

Remaining still for a few moments, still blinking, Martin tries to take it all in— looking down towards where Jon still rubs at his hand, though still seemingly unaware of his presence.

“What happened?” he asks again, voice less slurred, but still weak.

“A seizure, Martin,” Jon says, trying desperately to catch his eyes. “You’re alright.”

At once, Martin wrenches his hand away from Jon’s grasp in favor of clapping it over his mouth, muffling a small and desperate gasp behind it.

“Shit. You gonna be sick?” Tim asks, already looking around him for something to grab as Jon once again prepares his tissues.

He does not respond right away, instead pausing for a few deep breaths—at last shaking his head no. In both relief and the absence of something to do with his hands, Jon fusses at the cardigan again—positioning it just so.

“Wh—oh, seizure,” Martin breathes, and Tim cannot help but feel relieved at his gaining a bit of orientation back.

“Yeah.”

Eyebrows knitting together, Martin moves the hand clapped over his mouth to rest on his eyes, sniffling a bit before speaking.

“M’so sorry,” he gasps—and it’s enough to break Tim’s heart.

All of their hearts apparently, as they immediately place their hands on him in a gesture of comfort.

“Hey, no, none of that,” Sasha soothes, brushing back his fringe again.

“M’sorry.”

“Martin, it’s alright,” reassures Jon, with such rare gentleness that even Martin lowers his hand to look—wincing quickly as he does so, and placing it back over his eyes at once.

“Do the lights hurt?” Sasha asks worriedly, placing her hand to cover his own, hoping to block more of it out.

“Yeah—ah,” he grits out with a pained little gasp, and Jon gets to his feet.

“I’ll get them,” he says, and walks quickly to the switch, sending them into a darkness illuminated only by the light from the hall.

With a quiet sigh of relief, Martin lowers his hand again, eyes still closed, and rubs absently at his nose. Stumbling a bit as his eyes adjust to the dark, Jon makes his way back to kneeling beside him, taking up his free hand again.

“Your head okay?” asks Tim, prompting Sasha to card through his hair to look for any swelling. “I’m sorry I didn’t—I couldn’t catch you.”

“…what?” comes the vague response, delayed by a few seconds as Martin tries in vain to sort through what was said.

“Still confused,” Sasha mouths at him silently—and he nods, instead going back to rubbing up and down Martin’s arm, as Sasha moves to massage his neck.

“M’sorry.”

“Hush, darling. It’s alright,” she says, and Tim knows without a doubt she will sit there all day, repeating these same things to him as long as he needs.

And loves her for it.

“…wh—Jon?”

Eyes more focused than ever, Martin looks down to where Jon still rubs a thumb over his palm, stunned very his very presence in this space.

“Yes, I’m here,” he murmurs, offering a small squeeze of affirmation, inadvertently painting a soft grin briefly across Martin’s face—before it drops quickly again in horror, as the reality of the situation sinks in again.

“Oh god. I—oh god.”

“It’s okay, Martin.”

“No no no.”

“It’s alright,” Jon comforts, more soothing than Tim had ever imagined would be possible for him. “Just be still. You’re alright.”

Five minutes turn into ten, turn into fifteen as Martin’s confusion slowly fades away—his recovery naturally filled with a deluge of apologies, patient soothing from his friends, and tending to the waves of nausea that come over him every few minutes. Ever so gradually, he becomes better able to hold a conversation; better able to hold their gaze, asking what happened before he went down, explaining that his…well, everything is sore, but that it’s nothing unmanageable.

There is very little that Martin would call “unmanageable,” of course, but it’s the most they will get out of him.

“I think I can sit up now,” he says after a bit, bracing his arms underneath himself to prepare, and Tim reaches out to support him at once.

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

A bit slow, a bit clumsy, they get him up—not without some worried questioning when he hunches forward, face buried in his hands as the headache worsens with the change of posture. But luckily, it dulls as quickly as it comes, and Martin soon finds himself able to look up, even to offer a bit of a sheepish smile.

“Want some water?” Tim asks as soon as he looks steady.

“You don’t have to—”

“I’m on it,” he says, refusing to accept any of Martin’s guilt-laden excuses, and dashes off to the kitchen at once, leaving Jon and Sasha still vaguely holding onto him in the fear that he might fall again.

“I’m alright, guys, really,” he assures, though he makes no effort to shrug their hands off—so there they stay.

“Do you know what caused this, Martin?” Sasha asks, folding his collar from where it sticks up at the nape of his neck.

With a heavy sigh and an exhausted pinch to the bridge of his nose, Martin replies, face reddening with shame.

“Yeah. You’re—you’re going to laugh.”

“Why would we laugh?” Jon asks so earnestly, so softly that it wins him a long and surprised look from Martin.

“I…dunno really, just. It’s just that it’s—it’s all my own fault. Stupid.”

“What do you mean?”

“I—I don’t—” he cuts off for a moment to hiss painfully as he rubs at his temple again, and Sasha’s hold tightens ever so slightly as a precaution. “I don’t have my…seizure meds with me. I left them at my flat when—when I ran. From Prentiss.”

Of course.

Of course he did.

“I would have gotten them for you Martin!” Tim shouts as he returns with the water. “Any of us would, mate. You should have said.”

“I didn’t want to send you back to my flat. She might…she might still…be there.”

He fades a bit as he speaks—rubbing once more at his temples, and Sasha resumes her ministrations of massaging his neck.

“Alright, just—it’s alright, Martin,” Jon soothes, a bit alarmed at the way he’s hunched back over—seemingly nauseous again, as he moves the bin a bit closer to himself just in case. “What can we do now?”

After a few long, deep breaths, his churning stomach finally settles long enough for him to answer, albeit a bit more vague-sounding than moments before.

“I tried…I tried to call the chemist, but…they won’t refill it unless I…unless I talk to my doctor. And it’s not like I can just go.”

“You have to get some from A&E then,” Tim insists, sitting back down next to him and pressing a hand atop his shoulder.

“No, I can’t.”

“We’ll go with you,” mutters Jon, before clearing his throat, returning to his best confident-boss tone. “We’ll keep watch for the worms. Go prepared.”

“You don’t—“

“We will,” Sasha says emphatically, leaving no room for argument—and even Martin knows when the battle is lost. “We’re happy to do it, Martin. Seriously.”

“Thank you,” he very nearly whispers, face flushing beet red as the undue attention of the afternoon catches up with him. “That’s really…too kind.”

“Well, you’ve got to get it somehow, mate,” Tim says with a chuckle, earning himself a warning glare from both Sasha and Jon. “What? I’m sure Martin wants this to happen again even less than we do. Which is saying a lot.”

“Yeah,” Martin says, surprising them all by chuckling briefly in return. “Reckon you’re right about that. I didn’t—this is pretty much my worst nightmare, so…just so you all know how sorry I am.”

“Yes, you’ve said,” Sasha laughs. “And it keeps continuing to not be your fault.”

“Right. Sure.”

He does not sound at all sure—but she lets it go all the same.

“We should go today, Martin,” Jon says as he stands, already grabbing a canister of CO2 in preparation. “Don’t want you to miss another dose.”

“And take that thing on the Tube?” Martin laughs, fully smiling for the first time since the whole affair began. “Think we might get some looks.”

“It’s the Tube, mate. Stranger things have happened,” Tim chuckles, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before jumping in to assist him in standing.

“Suppose you’re probably right about that.”

“Let’s go then,” says Jon, face steeled as if armed to the teeth and ready to tangle with anything coming his way. “Work that needs doing.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #tma fanfic #martin blackwood #hurt/comfort #cw nausea #cw seizures #cw misgendering #trans martin #jordanian jon #background timsasha #my writing

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anythingandeverything1d · 4 years

Text

Congratulations

“(y/n)” the nurse called out from the door. You stood up and walked over with an anxious smile. She handed you a clip board of medical information that you needed to update and then said she would grab you once it was completed and turned into the desk. You sat back down in the waiting room and flipped through the pages. Ugh I wish my mom was here...am I allergic to anything? I mean I don't think so but maybe Im just unaware of it..I don't remember having surgery-well my tonsils were removed but does that count? You were filling out the page to the best of your ability when your phone buzzed. You looked down and saw his name flash across the screen before immediately ignoring the call. You rushed to finish the paperwork and handed it in as the nurse came back. “Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah.” you followed her down the hall where she took your height and weight before escorting you into the room. You hopped onto the chair and anxiously tapped your foot as she checked your temperature, blood pressure, and oxygen levels. After finishing up she sat on the stool and smiled.

“So, what are we here for today?”

“Uh...” you looked at your feet and shifted in the chair. “I think I may be pregnant.”

She smiled and nodded, “when was your last period?”

“My period tends to be irregular but the last one I had recored was around two months ago.”

“Okay, were you on any kind of birth controls, or using any type of contraceptives?”

“I was on a birth control, am on a birth control but I missed a few days while I was on vacation which is when I believe this all happened.”

“Okay. Have you had any symptoms other than your missed period?”

“No, not really.”

“Okay. Have you taken any pregnancy tests at home?”

You nodded, your brain flashing back to that day.

*Tears were flooding down your cheeks as he grabbed his last hoodie from your closet. All you wanted was for life to stop. You wanted him to say its okay, to make a change in the relationship, to stay. You sat on the bed crying as he walked out the door for the last time, taking with him every once of happiness you had. You ran to the bathroom, physically sick from the situation. It wasnt until you were hunched over the toilet that you realized the box of tampons had gone unopened. Missing periods was normal for you, they had never been regular. There was a slight doubt in your mind though. You had never missed a period more than once, so the fact that you were going on two means something was wrong. You had been under a lot of stress though, the distance, the lying, the excuses, all of it. Wiping the snot running from your nose, you had gotten up, washed your face, and thrown on sweatpants and a sweatshirt. You had mustered the courage to drive all the way to the drug store, purchase three pregnancy tests, and drive home. You had gotten three, you wanted to be sure. You wanted to be positive before making any other decisions. You sat on the bathroom floor after peeing in a cup and dipped each end, turning them over so you couldn't see the lines. You set a timer on your phone and closed your eyes. The only thing that could've possibly made this situation better was having him here. Of course he was gone already but you could still dream right? When the alarm on your phone went off you anxiously flipped them all over. Picking the first up and squinting you saw the dreaded double lines. Picking the second one up: dreaded double lines. And the third: PREGNANT in bold. You dropped them all on the counter and threw your phone. Of course, of course this this happens. He leaves and I end up pregnant with his baby..just like the movies except he won't be coming back. The rest of the day had been a blur. You had kind of just ignored the fact that there were three positive pregnancy tests in the bathroom. When your friend Luke had come over, you had cried into his arms. Cried about him leaving, about the break up, and finally about being pregnant. “(y/n) if you have positive pregnancy tests you need to call him.”

“No. I can't do that. Im not doing that.”

“(y/n)...hes the father, he deserves to know.”

“I may not even be pregnant though..they come up wrong all the time.”

“Not this wrong though.. this seems pretty sure.”

“I mean I've been stressed lately maybe its just a hormone thing.”

“I think you should go to the doctor and check. And if you are then you need to ball up and tell him. Seriously he needs to know”

You had nodded and cried some more before Luke left. Then you had called your doctor and made an appointment.*

Now here you were answering questions about your sex life and body. The nurse handed you a cup and showed you where the bathroom was. She said the test would take only around ten minutes but that she would be coming back to the room to do a blood test as well. Great, what a fun day... You quickly peed in the cup, leaving it on the counter for the nurse and wandered back to the room you had been assigned. Your hands were sweating and you felt dizzy. Having your blood drawn was probably your least favorite thing. In fact, you fainted almost every time. You checked your phone and thought about texting him...instead you texted Luke and told him how terrible the doctor was and that you were going to die while having your blood drawn. His only response was “lol” and you rolled your eyes. Typical guy.. The nurse came back in with a smile and sat down. “Well it does look like you are in fact pregnant so congratulations! We want to do a pelvic exam and ultra sound today just to see where everything is at and then have you come back for a blood draw in the future.”

“Thanks.” you smiled and relief flooded your face. At least you didnt have to have your blood drawn today. On the other hand, you were pregnant, which was a whole other nightmare in its own. Not that you hadn't wanted and dreamed of having kids. You just thought it would be under different circumstances and that you would be married.

“Im going to leave this gown here if you just want to change real quick we can do an ultrasound and hopefully see where the little baby is at.” She left for a minute and you quickly changed, your warm body freezing against the chair. When she came back in, she had an ultrasound machine on wheels. She started with the pelvic exam, lightly pressing all around your pelvic region. Satisfied she got out a tube of gel. “This is going to be cold at first.” You had nodded and watched as the clear gel squirted out and the ultrasound machine rubbed against your skin. You watched the screen as she moved it around looking for the baby. After what felt like months, she found a small white dot looking blob and smiled. “There it is...looks like you are measuring around 2 months right now which makes sense to when you thought everything happened.” She looked at you and smiled. “I know it can be a lot to take in..I’m guessing this is your first?”

“Yeah...its just a lot I guess.”

“It is, but it gets easier. Want to hear the baby’s heartbeat?”

You smiled and nodded. She pressed a button and you heard soft thumps. Tears slipped out of the corner of your eye and you wiped them away. “Thats pretty cool.”

She smiled and nodded before handing you a towel. “You are all set to go, we will have the pictures at the desk where you can make your next appointment. It was nice meeting you (y/n) good luck on your pregnancy and congratulations again.” You smiled and thanked her before climbing back into your clothes. 2 months pregnant...theres a living being in there...my baby...mine and Harry’s baby...oh god, what am I going to tell Harry? At the desk you scheduled another appointment and the receptionist handed you a picture saying congratulations. You looked at the little pea shaped blob inside you and grinned. Thats mine...thats inside me.

Luke surprised you by standing at your car door with an ice cream sundae. “Soo did you faint? did you die? did you live?”

You laughed, “Yeah I lived. I didnt have my blood drawn at all actually.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” You took the sundae from him and smiled taking a bite, the hot fudge melting in your mouth.

“Because of this.” you waved the picture in your hand and he grabbed it his mouth dropping.

“Is that what I think it is? Do you have an alien growing inside you?”

“Lukeee seriously”

He laughed and looked into your eyes. “Okay okay but wow, a baby. That’s amazing. How are you feeling about it?”

“I feel like it hasn't sunk in yet....but that I’m really happy. I mean Ive always wanted a baby...why not do it now? I don't need a man in my life. Im a strong and independent woman.”

“That you are, but don't worry you will have me too. Im going to be a great uncle, its the best job anyways. But uh- are you going to tell Harry?”

You shrugged your shoulders and continued eating. “(y/n)...it is his baby right?”

You rolled your eyes and nodded. “It cant be anyone else's.”

“So then you're going to tell him.”

“Idontknow” you mumbled, your mouth full of ice cream.

“You have to..you know he would want to know.”

“Theres a lot I wanted to know and he didn't tell me so I’m not sure yet. I haven't decided anything.”

“Okay...” he gave in and hugged you. “I’m happy for you I really am.”

You hugged him back and smiled. “Thanks. I’m glad you're here...I’m glad I have someone to go through this with. And I’m so so glad you brought ice cream.”

“It’s okay. What are friends for right?” You nodded and jumped in the car after saying goodbye. You didn’t quite know who to call yet so you decided to just enjoy some time with yourself. You did the only logical thing you could think of after finding out that there was a baby inside you: you went shopping. You picked a local baby store and walked in, looking at all the onesies, furniture, blankets, binkies, and bears.

“Hi! Anything I can help you find today?”

“No, thank you I’m just looking.”

“Okay well we are having a two for one deal on onesies and bibs so make sure to check those out.”

“I will thank you.” you smiled at the girl working but she kept looking back at you.

“Are you (y/n)...the girl dating Harry Styles?” she asked shyly.

“I was dating him, not anymore actually.” She nodded and gave you the look, you know the one of pity and sorrow? You went back to shopping looking at all of the little outfits, there were so many choices. You also had no idea if you were having a boy or a girl..something told you it was a boy but obviously you had no clue whatsoever. You decided on a cute grey onesie with little animals on it...gender neutral. You also grabbed a cute binkie that had a stuffed bear attached to it.

“These are super cute.” the girl said while checking out. “There's a whole collection that goes with this if youre interested.”

“No, that's okay this is enough for now?”

She nodded and wrapped the stuff in a bag. “So how far along are you?”

“Not very far, only a few months.”

“Well congrats! I hope everything goes smoothly and I hope to see you back here soon for more stuff.”

You smiled and nodded. “I for sure will be back.”

You drove home, your phone blowing up the entire way with twitter notifications, instagram tags, and more. Inside you scrolled through it, only to find pictures of you shopping for the baby clothes. Your name attached to headlines stating you were expecting but not far along. Great...this is not what I need...how do they even know.... you were scrolling through more twitter notifications. Harry’s name was now being brought into this. Another daddy in One Direction? Harry Styles Expecting? ugh...this literally cannot be happening.. and then everything got worse.. Harry’s name and photo popped up on your screen as he called. “Harry?” you answered anxiously.

---

Part 1 of my new series, hope you all enjoy! Goal is to have another part posted tonight or tomorrow! This is kind of just an intro to the story, I’m hoping to have them be a little longer but let me know what you all would rather: longer and less stories (may take more time to upload) or shorter and more stories (updated a little faster)

Let me know what you think so far and what you think will happen.

xoxo

#one direction #one direction fanfiction #directioners #one direction imagines #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines

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shelby-love · 5 years

Text

JAY HALSTEAD

“I was dumb.”

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: none

Authors note: /

Another day at District 21. You're the first one to arrive at work. You make your way to your desk and place yourself gracefully in your chair. You let your eyes roam around the room. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You check your phone again. 8:00 A.M.

You look around the room once more. Jay's table is opposite yours. Papers, pens and different colored files are all scattered all over his table. There's a great difference between your two tables. Yours is organized, everything is color-coded, in its place. There's a framed picture of your family on top of a few books and a few souvenirs from when you were travelling. Your desk has its own touch and it radiates your energy while Jay's table... Its like a tornado struck it. Could that be because he's just a messy person or there's a deeper reason going behind that, you wouldn't know. With the rate your friendship has been growing you could say that in around 20 years or so you could be friends and then you could maybe ask him.

After 7 months of being in the unit you've been at dozen of Antonio's dinners that even his kids call you auntie Y/N now. You're practically Kim's future maid of honour. Everyone loves you. Everything should be perfect but it's not.

Because the one person who you want to love you doesn't even call you a friend.

You shake your head at your stupid brain. You hate that your heart beats faster ever time you see or think about Jay, how butterflies erupt in your belly at the given reasons. "You're an idiot Y/N."

"I didn't realise I wasn't alone," You look up and meet the most beautiful eyes. You stop breathing, you freeze and want to die on the spot. After several long seconds you finally realise that you have been staring. Staring hard. You cough awkwardly, hoping it draws his attention to your coughing and not your...staring.

"I haven't been here for long," You stand up abruptly, your nervousness taking over your actions. Once again you seriously freeze, now you're standing doing absolutely nothing instead of sitting like any other normal person would. You take two deep breaths and walk over to grab a few files. "Do you want a coffee. I was about to get one for-"

"No thanks. I'm good Y/LN," You watch as he sits behind his desk and starts reading through the files. He literally knows where he left off, he easily switches between the papers like a professional. He's ignoring you.

Or maybe he isn't.

Either way it makes you sigh sadly. With a pile of case files you make your way behind your desk. After dumping all the files onto your desk you walk away to get some coffee and get away from whatever the energy you two carried when you were near each other.

"God please give me strength."

***

You hold your gun in front of you and walk through the house. You've been partnered up and ended up going undercover with Jay. You had to pretend you were together so you can get some insides about the criminals you've been chasing. You constantly keep reminding yourself that that was all an act. A task.

But how could you possibly forget that? Jay had his hands all over you, showing off his acting skills. It felt so right to have him against you like that - an act or not. But that wasn't Jay. That was detective Halstead on a mission because if you're sure about one thing then you're sure about the fact that Jay Halstead, the man you like, wants nothing to do with you.

Slowly, you push the last door open. The room is clear but just like you did with every other room you walk in to check it thoroughly. Three steps in and someone tackles you to the ground. Your gun falls out of your hands and you sigh. Dammit.

The man on top of you is at least 4 times your size. He's a block of muscle that's covered fully and thoroughly with tattoos. He strikes for your nose but you manage to evade the punch, instead you bring your head to his and slam it as hard as you can. You ignore the literal ringing in your head and get to your feet. The man let's out a war cry and grabs your legs pulling you down, he reaches for his pocket and pulls out a small gun. You use your delicate hand and punch him square in the face, it takes him off guard but not enough to stop him from finishing his business. Instead of shooting at your chest, because of his disorientation caused by your punch he pulls the trigger out of nowhere and the bullet lands into your leg.

You hiss in pain as a sudden gush of pain jolted throughout your body. You put a hand to your leg. My gun is not too far. The man rises to his feet and looks down on you. Your stomach ached, your arms lost tension and your leg began to throb violently. He will not get the better of me, you thought as you looked at him dead in the eye. Bruised and winded, with a leg in agony, you grabbed the foot of the attacker and pulled him to the ground. You threw his gun out of his hold and brought a fist to his face, snapping his nose.

Then you hauled yourself towards your gun with the left adrenaline, and before he could reach his own gun you pulled the trigger and shot him in his right shoulder. The gruff man wasn't so scary like he was in the beginning.

He growls in agony but you ignore it and limp over to him, you grab your cuffs and turn him on his back ignoring the wincing that slips out of his mouth.

With his cuffs secured you use your upper body strength to pull him up, then you press your fingers against his bullet wound putting him in pain so he doesn't even think about running away from you. "I'm going to recite it to you okay? You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions now without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time. You got that?"

By the time you finish the Miranda warning you're walking out of the door to a full police patrol. You notice your team in the middle of the commotion and pull the man with you. You truly don't know who's walking worse, you're both bleeding all over and the only thing that's keeping you from falling to the ground is the adrenaline.

Your team practically runs over to your side when they see you. Your offender must've gotten his adrenaline rush back because he turns around and uses his legs to kick you down to the ground. You hit the ground and all hell breaks loose. Everyone is yelling, screaming and arguing. You don't make out any voices as the last thing you hear is "You're going to be okay Y/N." Then you're lifted in the most comfortable pair of arms and a rock solid chest and you give up.

***

As soon as you open your eyes. Bum. Light.

You close them once again and groan. The bed you're in is awfully uncomfortable, the light is shining too brightly - you're not at home.

Your eyes shoot open.

You take everything in and connect the dots. A fancy looking hospital. You were shot.

Not the first time that happened, you shrug and look around. Your eyes spot a sleeping figure on the couch in the corner of the room and you gasp loudly. "Oh my God...oh God."

Jay Halstead. In your hospital room. With his jacket thrown over him to act as a blanket while he's sleeping.

You melt on the spot but freak out once again. "Shitshitshitshit.."

He stirrs in his spot at the words you said loudly, then something ticks inside of him and he shoots up from his sleeping position.

"Y/N??" His eyes find yours and butterflies erupt in your belly. "Thank God you're okay."

You're surprised to see him pull out a chair and bring it next to your bed. "The doctor said you should be fine... Jesus Christ I'm so happy you're okay. I was so worried."

"Yeah," You say, your voice a hit hoarse. Upon noticing that Jay immediately bolts to the corner of the room and brings you a glass of water.

"Here you go," He hands the water steadily over to you and you take it shakily, not believing what's happening.

"What are your intentions Jay?" You blurt out after you drink half the cup. You didn't mean to sound so blunt but blunt is what you need right now.

"Listen... I know we weren't on best terms during the past 7 months but-"

"We weren't on any terms."

"But, I have a good explanation for that," He says and you stare at him. Dumbfounded. He thinks I'm the devil and that's why he didn't wanna hang out with me? He takes your silence as a sign to continue.

"Y/N I like you."

"You like what??"

"With what happened with Erin I thought I don't need another relationship but I liked you from the moment I saw you," He smiles as if he's going to memory land. "You're my kinda girl and so much more. You're funny, beautiful, caring and hard working and I felt bad for ignoring you but I didn't know how to be friends with you because friends is something you and I could never be. I was dumb to let you go."

You stay silent.

"Today, when you came out and passed out in my arms I knew I shouldn't wait another day to say how I really feel about you. I want more. I don't want friendship, I want everything and you can call me selfish but-"

You cut off his rambling with a deep kiss. A one you've been imaging for ages. The taste of his lips on yours sends you and your body in overdrive. It's so much more than words can explain.

"I like you too Jay."

#jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #chicago pd #chicago #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction

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forestdivinity · 4 years

Text

there’s nothing for me but the dying

You make mountains from molehills, Reginald had always been fond of telling him, you let your fear control you, instead of controlling it. You crave attention; you leave yourself deranged for want of it- The thing was, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Something inside of him was an ache, a great yawning mouth that throbbed like it was teething at all times. It was hungry and all it wanted was to feed, to consume, to fill that emptiness with the tender meat of the world around him. Maybe it was the death of small things inside of him, he was rotting in all the places people couldn’t see. All his life, Klaus had flirted with dangerous situations in an attempt to fill that void. Around him was reality, always twisting. It was a volatile thing, split across two realms. Or he was the distortion, body snapped around an emptiness, trying to exist in life and death at once. Humans weren’t meant for such things, and it terrified him. He had to choose one or the other.

And so the danger-

It was fights with his father that would end with a crack around the ear that always left his head spinning. There wasn’t pain, or there was pain, but it simply melded with the ache of his being, that rot beneath his skin. More impactful than the pain was the touch, the blood beneath Reginald’s fingers, the heat of his hand. Life. And then it was the mausoleum, the cold that seeped into his bones, the hollowness of his body mirroring the emptiness of the room; at least until it was full of spectres, visages of the undead, drawn like moths to a flame. Or one of those sparkling, electric lights, the same blue as the glow of his powers, the cracked lava lamp of his body. Some metaphor, some dream. They flocked to him, all ice and incorporeality. That was Death.

Somewhere between the two, Klaus began to know other dangers. The heat of MDMA and the cold of a comedown (life, death, repeat, start again. It was all cyclical; he was the cycle, something never ending) the touch of a body, the concrete of an alley. He flirted with men and women alike, anyone who caught his eye. Anyone who offered a bump or a hit.

Danger successfully courted and all that.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Ben moaned at him. It was a familiar complaint, barely a question at the point they were at now.

“Don’t kid yourself into thinking I have an answer.” Klaus told him, waving his GOODBYE hand in his brother’s direction. Something in his soul ached. Maybe not his soul - did he even have one of those? Was he alive enough? Was he human enough? Maybe it was just his body that ached, that old familiar thing. Rot split open his veins, it flooded through him with every beat of his heart.

What was even the point of that thing? It worked overtime and Klaus didn’t even want it.

“You must have a reason-”

“Oh, you know darling Benny. Benerino. Ghost of my life-” people were looking at him funny now, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, “I’m here for a good time, not a long time and all that.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Klaus.”

“Drop dead, Benzo. Oh, wait-” He was tetchy, somewhere between the high and the comedown. Ben had been tetchy since he’d died and realised he was stuck with the one brother he’d never been closest to.

Screw him. Screw all the ghosts. Klaus had better things to focus on, even if Ben was the only thing haunting him now, it didn’t mean he wanted to stay sober. Addictive personality, he’d been told once, no drive to help himself. Then again, that doctor had also thought him schizophrenic.

Klaus couldn’t really prove him wrong. Maybe his father had listened to the ramblings of a psychotic child and decided he must be seeing ghosts. Who knew what he should believe anymore, all Klaus wanted was the high. It was the floating that he craved, that heat that flooded his body, the freedom from the expectations of his own mind. Maybe he’d been fucked up since birth, always pushing for more, always looking for danger.

Trauma response, CPTSD, suicidal ideation, another rehab center had written on a chart after three mandatory weeks of group therapy. His fingers had itched then, even though it had been a relatively nice place. Clean, smelling faintly of antiseptic - one Allison had clearly paid for.

He’d only seen two ghosts in his time there, neither one of them screamers. They terrified him nonetheless. Klaus was always terrified: of himself, of the world, of the living and the dead. When sober he remembered his father’s hand, the sound of it cracking against his head. Ouch, what a bastard he’d been. Thinking about Reginald always made his cravings worse. It was hard not to think about Reginald when he was sober. The man lingered in his mind like a bad smell. Klaus wanted to claw at the soft underside of his belly, imagined opening up the fragile skin there and letting all his rotten organs spill out onto the dirt. The thought gave him nightmares for weeks. You’re making a mountain out of a molehill again, a voice echoed in his mind., somehow he couldn’t tell if it was his father’s or his own. “I really think you can do it this time.” Ben told him on the day before they were let out of rehab. His support was nice, if obviously fake, they’d been through this dance enough times. They both knew Klaus wasn’t the type to get better.

Addictive personality. Attention seeker.

“Nah.” He said. Ben sighed, a low, haunted sound. Like a ghost!

“You’re gonna kill yourself one of these days!” Diego seethes from across the hospital room, it’s a wonder the nice nurse from before hadn’t kicked him out yet. She’d been blonde, like their mother, and brought him jello with a wink like she wasn’t meant to be spoiling him.

Klaus had liked her.

“Pish.” He waved his hands at his brother - brothers, Ben was standing there too with a frown. “Lighten up, it was only one measly overdose.”

“Fuck you, Klaus! Your h-heart stopped, it took two minutes to revive you-”

“Impressive timing. Down to the wire there. Gotta admire our healthcare system- oh wait.” Klaus rolled his eyes. Diego’s teeth were grit, above his scar Klaus could see the little vein on his forehead threatening to pop like bubblegum. Inside of him, something ached and snapped. The emptiness was brittle, stale, like it had been left for too long.

“I can’t keep fucking doing this.” Diego sounded angry, but that wasn’t unusual. Strangely, there was a pleading to his face, like if he gave Klaus big enough puppy dog eyes then Klaus would get down on his knees and promise to never do drugs again.

Yeah, right.

“Then don’t, I’m not keeping you here Diego-”

“You’re such an ass! You really don’t care about anything other than your habit-” Also untrue. Harder to say though, Klaus thought of street corners and vomit and club lights. Danger, flirted with.

Couldn’t Diego see he was already dead, dying, dried out in the worst of ways? Existing in two places was exhausting. Sometimes all he wanted to do was sleep.

Klaus closed his eyes.

Danger, danger, danger, it rang like a klaxon in his head. His ears rang like someone had smacked him. He could practically hear his father’s disappointment - or maybe that was just Diego scoffing.

“Don’t contact me again unless you’re clean, Klaus. I’m not gonna sit here and watch you die.”

“Sure, whatever. I’ll see you at the funeral then, hm?” There was a crash and a stomp and a few hissed swear words. Klaus didn’t bother to open his eyes - it was easier to hide his tears that way. Not to mention he didn’t have to see Ben’s disappointed look or the otherwise empty room.

Another month of rehab was ordered by the court, probably only because his daddy was rich and Klaus was still somewhat famous, despite the homelessness and the drug addiction. Childhood fame had its perks, as did the lawyer kept on standby for their family. Reginald wouldn’t rent him an apartment, but so far he’d kept Klaus out of jail - he wasn’t sure whether to be happy about that or not.

Eventually he settled on not.

It wasn’t as nice as his last one. Klaus saw a ghost with her wrists split, thought of the danger of a knife, and then thought of his brother.

His stay got extended another month. The lack of drugs was disappointing, but the attention was fun - in the same way that bee stings and casts were fun for about five minutes until the novelty wore off. God, was he bored.

-drive yourself deranged for want of it, echoes, echoes. Klaus thought of his father often and wished he had a drink or a pill to drown them out. At night they locked him into his room, restraints and all due to the word suicidal in his file, and he had screaming nightmares of the mausoleum, that cool, deadly place.

He needed to get out; he realised. Before, rehab had just been a pain. Something to endure between bouts of danger and death. Klaus bounced between his highs and lows and occasionally thought of killing himself in how most people thought of buying coffee when they were broke. It was hard to take the impulse seriously when he knew (had always known) that he was born halfway to his grave already.

You couldn’t kill something that was already alive.

Now, though, something had snapped. Maybe it was the loss of his brother. Maybe it was the soft leather restraints that they’d clasped around his wrists (as if he hadn’t been trained to escape cuffs when he was eight, as if he wasn’t a child soldier superhero).

“You’re okay, Klaus. You’re not there, you need to calm down-” Ben was telling him. Klaus realised he was crying - screaming again, maybe. Something was cracking, and the sound echoed around the room, like it wasn’t just inside him this time. And then he had a dull realisation that it might be his wrist. That was fine, fun even.

More danger. More pain. God, was he acquainted with it by now, the rot inside of him was going to slip out if he wasn’t careful. Klaus was going to slip out too, right out of this godawful place and out of reality too if he was lucky. He needed a hit.

He’d do just about anything for it.

Surprisingly, no-one had noticed his yelling. Then again, this rehab facility wasn’t as nice as the last one. The one before that? They had all begun to blur together, Klaus didn’t remember what number he was on now. Addictive personality, he remembered, letting your fear control you.

Fuck it, maybe they were right about him - who even cared any longer.

“Klaus, come on, don’t do this- at least get some shoes, Klaus-” Ben was talking, his voice felt very far away. Klaus removed the bars on his window without really knowing how - training had made escaping places instinctive at this point. Klaus hadn’t used the skills since he was fourteen and had gotten kidnapped on a mission but, well, it was like riding a bike! That was how the saying went, wasn’t it?

He didn’t know. He’d never leant to ride a bike.

And then he was outside in the snow, and it was still so, so cold. He realised he wasn’t wearing shoes, socks. Not even a coat. Still, he’d gotten by on worse before, hadn’t he? Another danger to dance around. Only. this time, there was no Diego to fetch him. Fine. It was fine.

The ghosts were somewhat easier to deal with for once, while he slowly froze under the foundations of some cracking bridge. It was winter again, like it was every year. Weirdly, Klaus always felt more alive as everything around him rotten and died.

Well, usually he did. Now he just felt cold and exhausted and on the brink of death. Ben had convinced him to find clothes. He had a pair of boots two sizes too big and a thick fur coat on over his blue gown. Inside of his shoes, his toes curled and went numb - Klaus hoped they didn’t fall off. Sure, he was rotten inside, but he’d rather not be rotting outside too.

If he went to the hospital, they’d just send him back to rehab (or worse).

Everything hurt from the inside out. The cold made his vision swim. Around him was the familiar stench of mildew and wet earth, like he’d been born and crafted from mud. Sure, it was probably the sludge that had once been a river, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

Maybe it was Christmas already? Klaus hoped it was, he hadn’t been very good but hopefully Santa didn’t mind - the bastard had a few decades worth of presents to make up.

“I’ll take a bottle of vodka and a bag of cocaine, if you’re out there fat man.” He muttered, hands shoved up under his armpits. It did little to warm them up - for as long as he could remember his hands had been cold.

Poor circulation, dear, don’t forget your gloves, his mother had told him, but Klaus knew better. He was dead and rotten on the inside, and corpses didn’t get to be warm.

“I can’t believe you’re still thinking about drugs-” Ben hissed, as if he had to be quiet. It was ridiculous, Ben was a ghost, and he still insisted on whispering at times, as if anyone but Klaus could hear him.

“Drowns out the ghosties, Benny boy!” Usually, Klaus would throw his arms out to emphasise his point, but he’s a little focused on making sure his fingers don’t fall off.

Useful things, fingers.

“I’m the only one here!” Ben huffs and looks around pointedly.

“Exactly.”

“God, you need serious help. The drugs aren’t some magic medicine, Klaus, you’re just an addict.” Ben’s voice was a sneer. It’s funny, they’d had never gotten along in life and they’re only doing a fraction better in death.

Death, because they’re both dead. Klaus is just a bit alive too. Maybe. Some days it’s hard to tell.

He shoots a glare at Ben. It does very little. Inside him the void aches, it wants to take and take and fill itself up on anything it can get. Ben should understand that better than anyone else but Ben is dead and Ben was always too similar to him and Klaus understands, he’s always been too much-

-mountain out of a molehill the voice inside of him reminds and Klaus snaps again.

He’s lost count of how many times he’s snapped in his life. Sometimes it feels like all he ever does is break.

“An addict who’s tired of hearing your voice!” He hisses. Ben recoils back and stomps off to the other side of the river where he sits and ignores Klaus for the rest of the night.

Well, Klaus assumes it’s the rest of the night.

He passes out after their fight and can’t remember if it was minutes or hours between the silence and the darkness. There’s a blissfulness to being unconscious, but when he wakes up the void is hungry as ever.

That’s the cycle, after all. He fucks up; he does something dangerous, skirts between life and death, has a fun time of it all and then fucks up again. Life, death. Living, dying.

Klaus is an addictive personality stuck somewhere between worlds. Sometimes he wants to blame the cycle for his problems, but he thinks the addiction is just what he’s like on the inside. Nature versus nurture and all that shit.

Maybe its nature versus nature. Himself against his powers. Life against death. God, he hates the contrariness of it all; it makes him want to vomit. Klaus picks himself up, wraps his coat around himself, and wanders towards a shelter he knows gives out free clothes.

In his body there is a beat playing out, it sings drugs drugs drugs, it sings attention seeker, it sings addict, it sings deranged with want, it sings complex post traumatic stress disorder, it sings mountains and molehills and suicidal tendencies.

Through it all there is the ringing of a hand against his ear and the chill of old stones against his back. Klaus whistles a tune as he goes.

Everything is absolutely fine.

#klaus hargreeves #tua #ua #The Umbrella Academy #Umbrella Academy #drug use tw #suicide attempt tw #self harm tw #abuse tw #addiction tw #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #Reginald Hargreeves #fic #character study #writing #my writing #klaus tua #klaus hargreeves character study

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

Falling in Temptation

Previous chapters • Sequel to Stars Dance • Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

Ch. 24: With Love, Z

Fandom: Doctor Who // Pairing: 11th Doctor x OFC

Chapter summary: The Doctor takes Avalon to see an old friend down the 1920s French Riviera. At the end of the night, they finally say a couple things that they've been struggling to keep hidden.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

An angry Avalon stormed down the corridors with an equally angry Amy following her. It seemed like no matter how quick she walked, Amy was just as quick. She hated this unintended synchronicity.

"You are just wrong, Amy!"

Amy huffed. "Am not!"

"Are too! They gave me the dress! It's mine and I'm not giving it back!"

"But where the hell are you even going to wear a Louis Vuitton gown!? Leadworth!?"

Avalon audibly growled that even before she made it to the console, both the Doctor and Rory heard it. They also heard Amy's shout afterwards. The two men shared a dreadful look. It wasn't odd that Avalon and Amy disagreed on something to the point of arguing loudly. They were very similar in personality traits which often made them butt heads.

"Any idea what they're arguing about?" The Doctor quietly asked Rory.

"Nope." Rory's gaze lowered to the glass floor. "Is it too late to hide?"

"AMY! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Avalon stormed into the room with a look of death on her face.

"That would be a yes," the Doctor mumbled to Rory before dashing to meet Avalon. He put on his best smile for her, extra cheery for good measure. "My Ava! You are looking lovely today!"

"WE'RE NOT FINISHED!" Amy came in shortly after, startling everyone in the room.

Avalon whirled around. "Yes we are! It's my dress and I'm keeping it!" She then turned right back to the Doctor, suddenly wearing a pout. "Fairy Tale Man, she wants me to give back the gown that Louis Vuitton gave me! Tell her I don't have to!"

"Uh, she does, because it's not right," Amy came up beside them, arms folded, "It's a priceless gown that Avalon practically stole. The only reason Louis Vuitton even let you have the it is because you already had it in your arms. He was being polite. Rory, tell her she has to give it back!"

Rory's eyes widened. "Uh, well…"

Avalon turned back to Amy, glowering at her grandmother. "Don't bring Rory into this!"

Amy did the same. "You just brought the Doctor into it!"

Said man was quietly retreating from them, moving back until he was standing next to Rory. Their heads turned from one angry ginger to the other, trying to follow their argument while simultaneously attempting to cut in and stop them. It sounded ridiculous, really, and after a few minutes they stopped trying to interrupt them. Maybe if they got it out of their systems, it would all end nicely...they foolishly hoped.

"I'm right!" Amy snapped, but Avalon scoffed.

"You wish, Pond! I'm right!"

"Rory, tell her I'm right!"

"Doctor, tell her I'm right!"

And suddenly, both gingers were looking at the Doctor and Rory, waiting for them to agree with each of them. It left a very terse air in the room.

Rory, on his part, swallowed hard with fear. "Seriously, is it too late to hide?"

The Doctor's eyes did flicker to the console for a moment as he truly considered the idea. "There's always a black hole we could jump into."

"You want to jump into a black hole?"

The Doctor was halfway nodding his head when Avalon growled at the two. "You two are cowards!"

Giving up their delirious plan of escape, they went to gather up their angry Ponds and separated them.

"Instead of arguing, why don't we go somewhere?" The Doctor asked them, bringing back his cheery smile that Rory quickly adopted as well. "I've been meaning to take Ava somewhere important, just been waiting for her to get a little bit better."

The curiosity got the better of Avalon as the Doctor suspected it would. "Where would that be?" She asked him with glimmering eyes. "Another fashion designer? I could definitely do with meeting, say, Coco Chanel?"

"No more fashion designers," Any sternly said, making Avalon look back at her and stick her tongue out. "Avalon!"

"No, no, well, there might be since we don't know exactly who's-"

"Doctor," Rory purposely cleared his throat, making a motion for him to skip over that part before it caused another argument.

"Right, it's a surprise! So," he turned to face Avalon, "Go find a dress for the 1920s! We're going to the French Riviera!" He laughed at how wide Avalon's eyes got in just a few seconds.

"Seriously!? The 1920s!? French Riviera!?" She repeated everything she heard just to make sure that it was all correct. She squealed when he nodded his head. "Oh my God! The 1920s! I love it! Amy! We need dresses!"

"What-" Amy barely had time to say when Avalon reached for her wrist and yanked her towards the corridor.

All arguments forgotten for sure.

"Nice save," Rory said to the Doctor when they were alone.

"Mhm, I've got a whole list of places I have in case I ever get into trouble with Avalon. You should probably make your own for Amy."

"But is taking Avalon to the 1920s a good idea? She's doing a lot better with her health and the 1920s aren't exactly that clean…"

"She will be just fine," the Doctor assured him. "Just, um...no alcohol. Bit early for that to re-enter her system."

"Have you met Avalon!?"

The Doctor nodded his head but there was no way he was taking the 1920s away from Avalon. Her grandfather was more than welcomed to try. He would not be the fool.

~0~

Somewhere along the dressing up process, Avalon lost Amy. That was just fine with both of them. They were no longer arguing but Amy couldn't see why Avalon put so much effort into the dressing up part. Usually all gowns for them were so uncomfortable, but Avalon was Avalon. She went above and beyond to get herself ready. She was finished before Amy and before returning to the console room, Avalon stopped by her bedroom first. She grabbed her journal - she was more inspired to write ever since she read her work to the children at Leadworth - and grabbed a cute cream-colored purse to stuff it into. She was coming out of her room when the Doctor called for her name.

"There you are!" He should've known that she would come back to her bedroom first. He was aware of her writing habits coming back to her and he couldn't be more happy for her. She wasn't letting anyone see what she was writing but she did promise him that when she thought her work was good enough, he'd be the first to see it.

"Doctor…" Avalon was breathless at the sight of him, much like he was with her. For the first time ever, he had changed for the era they would be visiting. He wore a white button-down shirt tucked under dark brown pants. She could see red suspenders matching his red bowtie. But what really drove things for Avalon was the fact he'd chosen a very familiar coat to go with his outfit. "That's the coat I told you about a while ago...the one you wore in Berlin." He'd chosen to abandon his tweed jacket for the day in favor of the thicker dark brown coat he'd found for Berlin (or rather the coat Lena forced on him because he'd been avoiding a proper change while searching for Avalon and Melody).

The Doctor grinned with the effects his wardrobe change caused. He was hoping for something like that. "Since we're going to the 1920s, I thought I'd go for a little change."

"I love it," Avalon stepped closer to him, her hands going back and forth as if unable to decide what to do with him first.

"And I love your dress! Look at you!" the Doctor looked her over, losing breath like Avalon had earlier. Visiting the 1920s was such a good plan!

Avalon's hair was left down with only a white headband with matching white feathers to keep it out of her face. Her lips were painted a rose-gold shade, matching the dress she'd chosen for the day. It was a pastel pink, beaded flapper dress that was a the bit on the daring side with its fitted form and low cut neckline. There were shiny pearl beads near the hemline above the layer of white tassels. The same pearl beads, with a touch of smaller golden beads, made up the straps and…

"Check it out!" Avalon smirked and turned her back to him, revealing the dress's very low backside was made up of plunging pearl straps instead of fabric. It was a shock as it was...the most the Doctor had ever seen of Avalon's body and it was...doing things to him. Avalon turned back to the Doctor, her smirk widening to the edges of her face. "I picked good, huh?"

"Yes…" The fact he was momentarily speechless spoke volumes of what he thought. She was always stunning but to see her show off like that was just further confirmation. "You look amazing, Ava," he gingerly touched her hips.

Avalon was past the careful touching. She had decided what she wanted to do first. "I'm hot, you're hot, that equals…"

She pushed him against the wall and kissed him. She slipped her hands under his coat to grab onto his suspenders. Though initially surprised, the Doctor caught onto the game fast. He moved his hands to her back, absolutely loving the feel of her warm skin under his fingers. He could really just stay there with Avalon for hours (and hours) touching her and kissing her, especially when she seemed to love letting those hands of hers wander over his body.

Avalon pulled away from his lips but that was the only thing she did. Her body was still pressed against his. "Seems like we're both out of words." She smirked at him then added, "And out of lip gloss, it seems."

"Faint taste of strawberry again," the Doctor proudly said. He long ago perfected that talent of recognizing her series of lip glosses and lipsticks. "That's my favorite."

Avalon laughed. "Right. I'll need to re-apply again." And it just so happened that her Rose-Love lip gloss was one of the things in her purse.

"If you don't get off me I wouldn't even bother doing that." He was sure that she was purposely pressing even more against him.

"Ooh, someone's bold today," Avalon bit her lower lip and finally stepped away from him. "But I really do want to see what's in the French Riviera so I'm going to press pause on this."

"Pause?" The Doctor caught on, another smile coming to his face. He liked that idea very much.

"Let's go," Avalon linked her arms with his. If they stayed where they were, she would lose the little control she was clinging to.

~ 0 ~

It was a pretty warm night in the French Riviera, perfect for the dress Avalon chose. She still couldn't believe the reactions it got from the Doctor then Amy and Rory a short moment afterwards. Sometimes, things were just too easy. Now the group walked along a path leading up a hillside, none of them knowing where they were going except for the Doctor. He kept telling them to trust him, that he had the perfect spot for them and that they really needed to issue some patience. They almost laughed in his face when he started going on about patience.

"You all need to be kinder," the Doctor muttered to them as they came up to a beautiful two story building on the hillside above the sea. Lights were flashing as people kept arriving. One could easily tell there was a party going on.

"I don't know where we are but I know that I'm going to love it," Avalon's smirk promised fun times.

"It's the Villa Saint-Louis," the Doctor told her, and Amy and Rory, but he seemed to hold onto her arm that curled around his in a tighter manner. "And before I start with anything else, Avalon, it's imperious that you listen to this. You're cannot drink tonight."

Her smirk fell to the ground in that one moment. She uncurled her arm despite his grip on it and turned to him. "What the hell do you mean? I've not touched a single drop of alcohol in, what, half a year?"

"Yes but we can't risk you intoxicating yourself right now, especially in a place where emergency medical attention can't be delivered as quickly as we're used to. And I need certain tools!"

Avalon folded her arms, huffing like a child. "You don't just bring me to the 1920s, in the French Riviera, and then tell me not to drink outside the door of a party!" She gestured towards the building.

"Avalon, you're overreacting," Rory said. "The Doctor's right. You've been making very good progress and you're not going to ruin it because you want one glass of vodka."

Avalon groaned. "I thought we were done with this!"

"Done with what?" Amy curiously asked.

"This!" Avalon's wild gestures now went to them. "You've been looking after me nonstop for months now! I thought it was finally going away because we started travelling again but...no, you all still see me as the fragile doll you rescued from Berlin. Well, it's not Berlin and I am okay! So just stop with all these rules! You know I hate them!"

"Ava, the last thing I want is to upset you, I just want to be cautious." As the Doctor said those words, Avalon groaned all over again.

"You are so lucky we are in public or I would kill you on the spot!"

"Avalon, quit being a baby and just stay away from alcohol!" Amy hissed at her granddaughter. "It's either this or we go home. You should be thankful that the Doctor thought of this place for you."

Avalon had her arms folded in her angry stance but her eyes flickered to the Doctor every few seconds. He was encouragingly smiling at her in his usual goofy manner that despite her irritation with him, her heart warmed. "Fine," she huffed. "I really hate you and your stupid rules."

"And I…" the Doctor trailed off, knowing he wouldn't be able to finish that sentence with the words he wanted to, so he settled for the next truth, "I think you are positively beautiful tonight." He got her to smile at him and that was a huge win. "C'mon, there someone inside I think you're going to want to see." He unfolded her arms and took her hand, bringing it up to his lips for a kiss. "Shall we?"

Avalon sighed. "Yes. Sorry," she said very quietly.

"I know," the Doctor chuckled. He led the group up the front steps, warning them all to be cautious because "There's important people here" and the last thing they needed was for history to be changed. It just made the group wonder where exactly he had brought them to.

Inside was a lovely living room, spacious too, full of fancy-dressed guests. They could feel the warm air breeze in through the open terrace at the end of the room. Avalon immediately eyed the lovely piano sitting in the corner of the room, near the terrace. No one could recognize anyone they were supposed to be excited over meeting, at least not until the Doctor started pointing out some specific people.

"You're telling me that's the Pablo Picasso," Rory had to rub his eyes when the Doctor pointed them to a man standing to their left with a beautiful woman at his side, a ballerina named Olga Khokhlova.

"His wife," the Doctor said then added, "Well, his first one anyways. Wonderful ballerina dancer."

"Are they all painters?" Amy asked, now really taking a scan of the room in hopes of recognizing one of the big names from history.

"Nah, we've got Jean Cocteau over there," the Doctor nodded to the man across from them mingling with other guests. "He's an artist but he's also a poet and novelist. Go on then!" He motioned Amy and Rory to go talk to people.

"What are we supposed to say to them?" Rory stayed right where he was.

"I don't know, invent something," the Doctor still tossed him his psychic paper in case they stuttered too much. "You can be anyone you want with or without the psychic paper. Just please don't leave the Villa. I really don't feel like going searching for you."

"What are you going to do?" Amy arched an eyebrow at him. "Not going to sneak off, are you?"

"No, Avalon's got someone to see here," the Doctor squeezed Avalon's hand in his.

Hearing that again made Avalon look at him. "You keep saying that but I don't recognize anyone here."

"You'll see," he smirked far too mischievously for her liking. He sent her grandparents off to explore then took Avalon in the opposite direction.

"Doctor, what are you up to?" She asked him while continuing to study the guests. She had already crossed gazes with a few of them, mostly the men, and she assumed it was more of her dress they were looking at instead of her.

"Something to help cheer you up," he stopped walking suddenly to turn to her. "I know you're still a little sad about the Sapling…" True to his words, Avalon's gaze lowered. "I just want to help you out. I hate when you don't smile."

Avalon smiled without even intending to. "I would've been fine with a movie night in the TARDIS."

"I know, but I think seeing an old friend might help you out a little bit more, especially now that you're starting to write again."

"Alright Fairy Tale Man, tell me what you're doing," Avalon laughed lightly. Instead of answering her straightaway, the Doctor turned her around so she could see more guests. "What am I supposed to be lookin…" She trailed off when she spotted a familiar blonde amongst the guests. It was cut in a short bob but Avalon picked her out straightaway. "No way," she breathed in.

"Go on Ava, say hello," the Doctor nudged her only a bit because from there, Avalon knew exactly what she needed to do.

She maneuvered through the guests until she came up to the blonde-bobbed woman and tapped her shoulder. "Hello?"

The woman turned around to see the giddy Avalon standing in front of her. Her eyes widened. "Oh my...Avalon?"

"Hi!" Avalon waved a hand, unable to help her short bursts of laughter. She was more than delighted to get to see her old friend Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald again after the whole fiasco in Montgomery

"How...when...how are you here?" Zelda had her own moments of laughter to match Avalon's.

"Are you upset that I'm here?"

"God no! Come here!" Zelda took Avalon into a hug that Avalon immediately responded to. The Doctor was right, it was really good to see Zelda again. "Oh, it's been so long!"

"Exactly how long has it been since you last saw me?" Avalon curiously wondered. The Fitzgeralds had lived in the French Riviera for a long time and then kept coming back every so often, making it harder to pinpoint which year it was.

"Why, 4 years," Zelda pulled away and happened to look at Avalon's dress. "That is a gorgeous dress! Very daring. I love it!"

"You're looking fantastic yourself!" Avalon said, pointing then to Zelda's hair. "And you cut your hair!" It was so funny that the first time she met Zelda, she was older but now Zelda was older.

"You haven't aged a bit!" Zelda took Avalon's hands and spread her arms to the sides. "Well…" She stopped for a moment to meet Avalon's gaze, "There's something different in your eyes."

Avalon swallowed hard. Of course Zelda would notice the eyes. She was brilliant like that. "Oh, you know, just things that happen in life."

"Mm," Zelda seemed to take that to heart, like she was living it herself and if Avalon was right about her history, Zelda was. The French Riviera for the Fitzgeralds was such a turbulent era for them as people and a couple.

"Avalon," the Doctor came up behind Avalon with a rather smug smile.

She flipped her head back at him and rolled her eyes. "You utter sneak!" He specifically wanted her to meet Zelda again and she couldn't be happier for it.

"Told you," he said, dropping a kiss to her temple. "Lovely to meet you again Mrs. Fitzgerald," he held a hand out for Zelda.

"Zelda, please," the woman said, almost sounding like a plea instead of a request. She looked at the pair with a knowing smile. "How have you two been? Last time I saw you, things seemed a little rocky."

"Things got rockier...and then they got pretty good," Avalon shrugged, preferring to skip over the details of that 'rockier' period. "Really good."

"I can see," Zelda hummed with a smirk tugging at her lips.

"Why don't you and Zelda catch up while I go see where our friends have gotten into?" The Doctor was already searching for Amy and Rory despite having seen them only five minutes ago. He could never be too careful with them.

"Mhm," Avalon practically waved him off. He rolled his eyes and kissed her cheek before taking off.

"I so knew that would end up in marriage," Zelda set her hands on her hips, shooting Avalon a smug look. "Didn't I tell you? I told you!"

Avalon rolled her eyes. One of the last things Zelda told her the first time they met was that she saw something between her and the Doctor. At that time, Avalon would try her best to dissuade any ideas like those. "Yeah, but we're not really marr-"

"I do like being right," Zelda sighed dramatically. "And he did look like he cared for you, I hope you're very happy."

Avalon pursed her lips together and glanced to find the Doctor pulling Amy away from a woman. Whether she wanted to or not, her lips formed a smile. "Yeah, we are." So she let one person believe the whole marriage thing, that wouldn't be bad. She'd just tell the Doctor that she couldn't convince Zelda otherwise.

Soon, Avalon and Zelda found a spot in the living room for them, ironically struggling in the beginning even though it was Zelda's own home.

"I quite liked Paris a bit more but this is also nice," Zelda said when Avalon remarked about the lovely villa she was now residing in. "Scott says he's going to finish his novel but...we'll see." There was wavering hope in her husband's work, one that Avalon wouldn't even try to change. She read all about these troublesome years and how Scott Fitzgerald made himself and his wife miserable by drinking instead of finishing his novels. "But I'd rather not talk about my husband right now. What has Avalon Reynolds been up to in these past years?"

"Umm…" Avalon would've preferred to skip over that as well but doing that would be saying that everything after visiting Montgomery had been bad and that just wasn't true. "I have been traveling with the Doctor and Amy, you remember her right?"

Zelda nodded. "Yes, same ginger hair as yours. Sure you're not related?" She'd also made the mistake of presuming that the last time.

Avalon laughed. "No way. But she did get married to my best friend. I'll introduce you to him. Rory's a sweetheart. Um, I...I sort of…" She debated whether or not to talk about the Sapling, but if she did she would have to figure out how to explain it in a way that wouldn't freak Zelda out.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Zelda asked when she noticed the grimness setting on Avalon's face. She sighed and nodded, but it was a weak smile. "Oh, it seems like I haven't been the only one in her own rocky ship. Is it trouble with your husband?"

"No, no," Avalon said but stopped, making a face, "I mean, the only problem we have right now is he's being so overprotective. Can't drink a drop of alcohol, mind you."

"Oh don't tell me you're pregnant too!"

"What!?" Avalon's face went red fast, her arms wrapping around her stomach. "N-n-n-n-n-no! Not at all! No!"

Zelda laughed, or howled, at the sight of such a stuttering Avalon. "Sugar, you are making it far too easy here!"

"I am not pregnant," Avalon shuddered at the idea. "I just...I sort of had an adopted child for a while and...well, he's left. Making his own way now."

"Oh, that's a wonderful thing you did," Zelda smiled in admiration. "I've heard people do that but none of the people I've met even think about adoption. Sad really."

"He was a very good boy," Avalon sighed. "And I just really miss him. I know I wasn't the best of Mothers - I don't know how to be a Mother - but I did come to love him. Now that he's gone I'm a little bit lost." Among other things. It wasn't just the Sapling's departure that left her feeling lost. Too many things had happened in a short amount of time and it was all sort of spinning in her head.

"Is that the only thing?" Zelda was clever to ask.

Avalon dropped her arms to her side, thinking by now the pregnancy thing was over. She spared a small smile at Zelda. "You really do see everything."

"I don't know about everything but I certainly know when someone's struggling. You, my friend, are struggling. What else is bothering you?"

"I...well, if we're being honest, I got into deep trouble and...and that sort of left me sick, near death…" Avalon purposely paused to see how Zelda would take the news because if it was bad then she would stop right there and change topics. However, Zelda only seemed to wait for her to continue, giving no indication that she was freaking out even on the inside. "I lost something that usually helps me stay very healthy. I was very weak for a long time. The Doctor had to take care of me, a lot...and my best friend Rory, he's a nurse. He's had me on all these restrictive diets. Beyond the biological parts, it just leaves a mark in you, you know? Makes you feel lost."

"I am so sorry that happened to you," Zelda reached over for one of Avalon's hand, giving it a friendly squeeze. "If you need anything from me, please let me know."

"I just really need my friend Zelda," Avalon didn't hesitate to say. The two shared a chuckle together.

"Well your friend Zelda could be a little bit of a better friend. I didn't even know you were coming. Though I'd never see you again."

"Part of the Doctor helping me out is taking me to these nice places, get myself back out there little by little. That included you. He, uh, he sort of found out you live here now."

"Like a detective he is," Zelda said. "I am so happy he found us, though. Truth be told, I'm a little lonely here. We've only just come up to live here so I'm still figuring myself out here."

"You'll find something to do, I'm sure," Avalon happened to see Picasso crossing the living room and remembered the painting interest Zelda would pick up soon. "Have you spoken to Pablo Picasso yet?"

"I have, actually," Zelda said with a nod of her head. "He has a dazzling mind when it comes to art. I've been eyeing the terrace as a new painting room for me."

"You should do it," Avalon said immediately, making the woman smile. "I think you would be wonderful at it."

Zelda appreciated the support. It was one of the things she always remembered from Avalon. Avalon's incredible support for her work that she hadn't even thought of doing properly. It still warmed her heart to know that Avalon trusted her enough to place her faith in stories that she hadn't even seen. A short moment later, Zelda had gotten herself a glass of wine. She had just handed Avalon a glass of ginger-ale when the Doctor, Amy and Rory found them in their little corner.

"Avalon, you can't drink!" Rory exclaimed, frantically taking the glass from Avalon.

"Rory, the fact you don't know that's ginger-ale embarrasses me," Avalon flatly said. "Me, a professional drinker, hasn't taught you what proper wine looks like?" She gestured to the glass in Zelda's hand. The blonde giggled as she raised her glass.

"Oh," Rory slowly handed the glass back to Avalon. "Sorry."

"Well, that's my best friend Rory," Avalon introduced him to Zelda, figuring she'd seen enough to know what he was like in general. "And you remember my friend Amy."

"Nice to see you again," Amy waved a hand. "I love this place by the way. Thinking of moving here." She flashed a smile at Rory, making the man groan.

"No, no we're not."

Amy still smirked like it was actually happening.

"I am truly thankful that you brought Avalon back to see me, Doctor," Zelda saluted her glass to him. "I could use a good friend for a while."

"Don't get used to her though, I have to take her back home soon," he warned as he came to sit on the armrest of Avalon's seat. "She's on a bit of schedule, you know."

"Oh, I know," Zelda laughed as she watched Avalon's face fall flat again. She really did not like that routine. "Keep doing it, though. Somebody's got to take care of her or who knows what trouble she might get into."

Avalon snorted. "You're one to talk!"

"I am, aren't I?" Zelda smirked before laughing with her.

"You're terrible!"

"Zelda, dear," a slightly older blonde man walked up to the group, holding his own glass but Avalon knew that wasn't wine. It was whiskey. "Who are your friends?"

"Old friends, actually," Zelda rose from her seat to introduce them. "Scott, this is Avalon Reynolds. I met her a bit before I met you back in Montgomery. Avalon, this is my husband, Scott Fitzgerald."

Avalon got up with a polite smile. She had mixed feelings about this man and she had to do her best to keep them hidden. "Hello."

"A Brit in Montgomery?" Scott eyed her curiously. "That's definitely unheard of."

"I was being punished," Avalon threw a look at the Doctor, letting him know that she still remembered that very clearly.

"Taj Mahal," he whispered in her ear so that she knew he remembered why he had 'punished' her in the first place.

She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The Taj Mahal was still standing so there was no reason why he should be upset about it. "These are my friends, I sort of brought them along for the ride. Amy and Rory and that's the Doctor."

Scott greeted each of them, subtly commenting on their surprise appearance. Zelda blatantly rolled her eyes beside him. "Avalon wanted to surprise me," she said, quieting his questions about Rory's profession. He had already assumed the Doctor was exactly what he was called. "She stopped by the Villa, isn't that wonderful?"

"Of course," he nodded.

"And she's a talented woman too. Don't think I forgot you write too," she winked at Avalon.

"She also sings," the Doctor added, loving the reddened tinge on Avalon's face. He dropped a kiss to her hair and wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Really?" Zelda's eyes widened. "You sing?"

"N-not really…" Avalon tried to say before Amy cut in.

"Yeah she does! And she's pretty damn good at it!"

"Maybe you could sing a little bit here," Zelda suddenly said, glancing at Scott. "Wouldn't that be nice for the guests? You got a singer for entertainment."

"That would be really good," he agreed slowly. As a newcomer to the French Riviera, it was important to place himself as a top tier writer. "Very good, actually. I'll get thing settled for you."

"No, wait!" Avalon's call made no difference as the man was already gone. Suddenly, she whacked the Doctor, Amy and Zelda. Rory, for good measure, stepped away before he became the next victim.

"Ow!" The three culprits rubbed their injured spots.

"How are you so strong?" Zelda shot a look at Avalon.

"I don't know how to sing in front of people!" She hissed at all of them.

"Sure you do," the Doctor said, though as soon as he did she threw a glare at him. "You have a beautiful voice."

"First you don't let me drink and now you want me to sing in front of people I don't know? In front of important people?"

"You don't have to," Rory said as a means of comfort but she snorted.

"Get real, I have to now that these idiots brought it up."

"I resent that," Zelda pointed at Avalon. "And I haven't heard your voice but I do trust what the Doctor says. Just sing a little bit, please? This party is as boring as it can get. You are bound to turn things around."

"I just don't think I'm that good," Avalon sighed.

"Ava," the Doctor tugged her away from the group for a moment. "You sang with Mary Costa and for your favorite movie. What's so different about it now?"

"That it's in front of people who don't sing," Avalon looked around the room nervously. "You said it yourself. There's writers, artists, dancers...musicians. There's other musicians here. What if I don't sound as good as them?"

"You'll sound much better than them," the Doctor said with the utmost certainty. "Because you are Ava Williams! Remember that?"

Avalon playfully rolled her eyes. "Of course I do." How could she forget the alias she gave herself when she couldn't remember Rory at all.

"So go out there and share that beautiful voice of yours. Just do me a favor and remember me when everyone starts to talk to you, alright?" The Doctor cupped her face as she laughed. "I mean it. You're stunning in that dress. Eyes wander and lips are tempting."

"And yet the only temptation I have right now is to snog you up against that terrace over there," Avalon flashed a smirk at him.

The Doctor spared a glance at the terrace and immediately thought up that scenario. It ended very nicely and a few loose beads on the ground. Soon, there was a bright blush on his face. "You are absolutely paying for that," he warned now that he couldn't get the image out of his head.

Avalon snickered at him. "Okay, now I can sing." She gave him a kiss on the lips, purposely kissing him a second time just on his lower lip for extra flair.

"Oh, I hate you," the Doctor huffed as he watched her leave.

"No you don't!"

No, he really didn't.

~ 0 ~

As it turned out, one of Zelda's talents included playing the piano. It was a wonder for Avalon because it was actually something she didn't know about the woman. At least she would feel a little less lonely now that Zelda would be playing the tune.

"Evening," Avalon cleared her throat once Scott got the guests' attention. He had introduced her as an 'aspiring singer', something that Avalon wouldn't really fight him on. She didn't know what she wanted to do but singing wasn't something she was against. Now here she was, standing in the middle of the living room, all eyes on her...the eyes of very important people to history.

Avalon controlled her breathing and waited for Zelda to begin playing. She did want to make a good impression on everyone, she was just so nervous. She met her friends' gazes, all of them wearing encouraging faces. Rory was even secretly holding his phone out, no doubt to record the event. Lena would have a hoot! The Doctor was smiling at her so softly, it made Avalon's heart skip even quicker than when she was just nervous. She couldn't read his mind like he could read others but she could see, she could literally see that he really did care for her.

And all you do is snap about him trying to protect you. She felt guilty remembering the bits of disagreements they had earlier. She would have to make that up to him. When she heard the soft tune, she gathered up all her courage and opened her mouth. She would make a damn good show, at least for her Fairy Tale Man.

'Why do I do, just as you say,

Why must I just, give you your way,

Why do I sigh, why don't I try to forget,

It must have been,

That something lovers call fate,

Kept me saying, "I have to wait",

I saw them all,

Just couldn't fall 'til we met',

She sure captivated everyone's attention...and she liked it. No one was moving, not even a step to the side. They were all watching her...

'It had to be you, it had to be you.

I wandered around and finally found the somebody who

Could make me be true, could make me feel blue,

And even be glad just to be sad thinkin' of you.'

Some others I've seen,

Might never be mean

Might never be cross,

Or try to be boss

But they wouldn't do

For nobody else, gave me a thrill

With all your faults, I

Love you still

It had to be you, wonderful you

It had to be you

Avalon finished with her eyes locked on the Doctor. Somewhere along the way she'd forgotten there were other people. She only thought of him and how she thoroughly needed to apologize...and maybe spend some time with him.

As it turned out, everyone loved the new aspiring singer. They all clapped for her, making her go as pink as her dress. Avalon found herself the center of attention, only being pulled around by Zelda who loved watching the young woman react to it all. Eventually, Avalon warmed up to the night and played along with Zelda. In no time, they were laughing away with the other guests.

"She does look happier," Amy remarked to the Doctor and Rory. They were watching Avalon like hawks in case any alcohol made it into her hands or - because both Amy and the Doctor remembered how Avalon got when she and Zelda were together - things went too far.

"I live for these moments," the Doctor admitted quietly. He was watching Avalon with the fondest of smiles. She should always be smiling and laughing, having fun. He was guilty for taking that away from her. "Kovarian has taken too much from you Ponds. I refuse to let her suck Avalon's life away too."

"You don't have to keep proving that to us," Rory said, getting the feeling it was a huge factor for what the Doctor decided to do for Avalon. "River is...fine, she's good where she is. Because she has us and Avalon."

"Yeah, but things would be so different if Avalon could've had River with her too. So I'm doing my best to give her bits and pieces of what I can to keep her happy."

"And you're doing just fine," Amy said, motioning to Avalon who had entered into a laughing fit with Zelda again. "Those two have so much power together. It scares me." She made the Doctor and Rory laugh but she was actually very serious.

~ 0 ~

As the night turned old, many guests started to disappear. Amongst the disappeared was Scott Fitzgerald himself, making the group wonder at what point did the author slip out of his own party.

"Oh, he does that," Zelda shrugged carelessly. "I go days without seeing him sometimes." She was picking up a few glasses left by the kitchen. The Villa was mostly clean thanks to the combined efforts of the travelers' and Zelda herself. It made Avalon wonder exactly who did the cleaning when it was just Zelda.

"Where does he go?" Amy curiously asked.

Zelda shrugged again, planting her hands on the kitchen table. "I have no clue. But it's got to be somewhere with a decent stock of whiskey and whatever alcohol they can find."

"And you stay here by yourself?" Rory looked out to the open terrace. The sea was calming but he didn't quite like it at night.

Zelda smiled at him. "I do just fine, thank you."

"Still," Avalon said, making her own face.

"I do have my daughter but we're still fixing things so she won't be here until next week. But what about you four, do you have a place to stay?"

"Uh, well...we were just gonna head back…" the Doctor began to say, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, "...to, er, our hotel…"

"Nonsense, you should stay here," Zelda moved out of the kitchen, stopping beside Avalon with an absolute grin on her face. "It would be so wonderful! I have spare rooms and, well...maybe I am a little lonely."

"I don't know…" Avalon wouldn't outright say it was a fantastic idea. She didn't know if the Doctor planned on letting them stay overnight. For all she knew, he might want her back in the TARDIS to run new tests on her.

Luckily for her, the Doctor knew her very well. One look at her and he knew exactly what she wanted. "I suppose one night wouldn't hurt."

Avalon's face lit up. "Yeah!" It was fairly similar the way Zelda's face lit up, like they were one of a kind together. "Oh, that'd be so much fun!"

"Well that's just perfect!" Zelda clapped her hands together. "Let me show you your rooms in case you want to turn in early."

"I sure won't," Avalon laughed behind her. "We've got loads to talk about!"

"But no leaving the villa," the Doctor warned her. "I don't want you overexerting yourself."

Avalon came by to his side while Zelda went to show Amy and Rory their room. 'Thanks for this, Fairy Tale Man. I really appreciate it. I know I'm not always very kind...I have a very big mouth."

"I think you have a wonderful mouth," the Doctor said, bringing his fingers to her chin. He tilted her head up. "I certainly lo…" He really needed to control his words before they slipped out. Avalon was waiting for him to finish that sentence so he scrambled to fix it. "I think you have an adorable mouth."

She laughed. "Well thank you. And I want you to know that I'm sorry for snapping so much before. I know you're only watching out for my health."

"And I know that you're not used to it. Plus, it has been a long time since...Berlin. It's hard but I really only want to make sure you're as healthy as you can be now that...that you lost your immunity abilities."

Avalon leaned up to kiss him. "Something I will never regret, alright? In case that's still lurking in your head. Never have I regretted it. If roles were reversed, I know you would've done the same for me, so...let's move on from that."

The Doctor could only nod. He was fairly sure that he would never forgive himself for making her give up such a huge part of her, a part that was responsible for keeping her safe and healthy. It was why he would always be extra protective of her. He stole something, it was only fair that he kept her safe in return.

~ 0 ~

"I love this view," Avalon said as soon as she and Zelda had made themselves comfortable on the terrace. Even though it was far later in the night, the air was still warm enough so that they didn't even have to get blankets or change altogether. The sea was calm with only a few gentle waves crashing every now and then. It truly was the perfect place to live in…

"It's nice for a while," Zelda said, shrugging lightly. She was nursing another glass of wine.

Avalon glanced at her sadly. "You don't like being here, do you?"

"I do," Zelda clarified first. She leaned forwards on her chair, eyes cast out into the dark sky. "But truth be told...I'm a little bored up here. Scott's either out with friends or trying to work on his new novel. My daughter is usually with her Nanny. I, uh...I spend a lot of time on my own or...at the beach."

"Ah, right," Avalon followed her gaze to the ocean. She suspected she knew what things Zelda had gotten up to as of late. She read about that as well.

"Can I tell you something?" There was a hint of fear in Zelda's tone that Avalon picked up on. She was still staring at the ocean, now on purpose to avoid Avalon. "I know we've met just once but I really did consider you a friend. No other friend has ever showed that much support like you did."

"Of course you can tell me something," Avalon offered Zelda a kind smile. "You can tell me anything. You and I...we really are very similar."

"Not that similar, sugar. You love your husband, I'm not sure I still love mine."

There were oh so many wrong things in that sentence that Avalon had trouble deciding which one to go with first. "I don't really...um, you think I lo...love the Doctor?" She swallowed hard as she felt the flames over her cheeks. Zelda Fitzgerald had to be a psychic, that was the only explanation for how she knew these things that Avalon wouldn't say out loud.

Zelda tore her gaze away from the ocean to smile just as kindly as Avalon had. "I can see it in your eyes. They're a bit sad and troubled but I can see it. I saw a glimpse of it the last time I saw you in Montgomery. Does he treat you nice?"

Avalon gave a nod of her head. She would let those comments slip by before anyone heard them. She wasn't brave enough to come clean to the Doctor just yet. "He does. He, um, probably over-does it sometimes."

"Well, as a wife, it's supposed to be that way. You're supposed to let yourself be pampered and petted in return for your loyalty."

Avalon laughed at that. "As in never argue with him even when he's wrong? Please. He's wrong half the time and I, as Avalon Reynolds, have to tell him he's wrong."

Zelda's smile only saddened. "Does he get mad if you do?"

"More like annoyed but it's fun. We go back and forth until one of us wins. But it's never toxic, you know? It's all good-natured because...because we're the same type of people." Avalon looked at Zelda again and saw how her words affected the poor woman. She was having doubts.

"We started out so nicely," Zelda began after a moment. "It was all so nice and easy in Montgomery. Scott was full of dreams and I...I liked the sound of his perfect world. I still do but...I feel like I'm sort of floating now. Scott and I get into so many arguments. He doesn't listen to me. When we argue, it's not good-natured. Makes me wonder what happened. You should've seen us in New York, Avalon. We took that city by the horns. It was ours."

Avalon wanted to point out that that period seemed more like an extended honeymoon but that would be senseless, not to mention there was no point. Zelda was troubled enough. "What's happened?" She settled for that instead. She knew that there were very few people in Zelda's life who would listen to her without judgement. She would be honored if Zelda considered her to share with.

"There's a man I met. Edoard. He's a year younger and...he's...he promises me stability. He doesn't go around wanting to know what other people have in their lives, not like Scott. And he's kind. He...he kisses me. Scott hasn't done that anymore. Barely gives me a hand to hold."

The affair. Avalon remembered that bit in the biographies. "May I ask if you are in love with this man?"

Zelda's shoulders shrugged with an expression that screamed indecisiveness. "I'm lonely. And he offers passion."

"Can I give my two cents?"

"Please."

"Passion isn't love, it's just...passion. I've never had that. I mean, I've dated but it was more casual. Now with the Doctor, it's fun but I know that it's serious. It's not just fun kisses and fooling around. I know, I'm sure, that he cares for me. Is that what Eduard offers you?"

Zelda once again shrugged. "I don't think so. It's just nice being with him, you know?"

And yet the truth Avalon knew, and she suspected that Zelda was beginning to know, was that she would always love Scott. However much they argued, whatever they threw at each other, they loved each other. If only they were a little kinder to each other.

Zelda shook her head and drowned the rest of her wine. "I'm sorry. I'm just pouring out all my feelings here. That's not what you came to the French Riviera for."

"I came to see you," Avalon smiled. "You're my friend."

Zelda met her smile with her own. "You're my friend too. You're an odd friend…"

Avalon laughed. "Oh, thanks!"

Zelda's lips stretched into an even wider smile. "No, no, you know what I mean. You're...there was always something strange about you. I remember you back in Montgomery. You seemed so lost, like you were mourning. That's what I saw in your eyes last time. That and so much conflict. Now I see it's not just that but...a long story. There's a long story in your eyes."

Avalon tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm not your local normal girl."

"You're not," Zelda agreed with a hum. "I think the story of Avalon Reynolds is a long, interesting one that I would love a peek of."

"Oh, it's pretty impossible. Call me the impossible girl," Avalon chuckled.

"I, uh...I have actually…" Zelda suddenly looked nervous all over again but Avalon was pretty sure it no longer dealt with her husband. "Give me a second." She got up from her chair and went back into the house, returning a few minutes later with a leather green book in hand. A journal.

Avalon barely held herself together at the sight of the journal. "Are you...are you writing again? Have you published Our Own Movie Queen?" It was only after she asked the last question that she realized it was a huge No-No.

Fortunately for her, Zelda nodded her head. She just assumed that Avalon had gotten word of her latest short story. "A few weeks back. Have you read it?"

"Aha! I love it!" Avalon grinned. "I loved the ending. Gracie sort of got some revenge and I am always impartial to women who have been wronged by men. Personally one of your best."

Zelda chuckled. "Well I thank you."

"And just so you know...I know that it was your story, not a collaborative effort between you and Scott."

Zelda smiled despite her obvious confusion. "How would you know-"

"Your words are not like Scott's," Avalon gently cut her off. "I would know your words anywhere."

"How?" Zelda asked. It wasn't that she didn't believe it but it still didn't answer how Avalon would know that if she never saw her work. Is the same question she asked herself back when they met in Montgomery. Avalon seemed to know a lot more about her than anyone else at that moment. There were things that she had never told anyone and yet Avalon knew them so perfectly. Truth be told, Avalon made no sense and yet she still inspired trust, which was why Zelda brought her journal out. No one, not even Scott, had seen the insides of it.

Avalon's shoulders shrugged before she could come up with a reasonable answer. "I just...I know. I really do and I know it doesn't make sense but just trust me, okay? I love your work even though you haven't published it. I know you're writing but you hate that whatever you present has to have your husband's name next to yours or that it just has to be his and only his name. I know it, and I'm so sorry."

There was no way she could know all that. Zelda had dozens of more questions but she decided to save that for tomorrow. Right now, she wanted to do something else. "I'm in the middle of writing something new. Care to lend me some of your critiques?"

Avalon's eyes dazzled when Zelda opened up her journal. That journal would be lost to history, thanks to the fire that would one day consume it, and now Zelda was actually showing it to her. "Oh my God…" She whispered when Zelda deposited the journal on her lap to scoot her chair closer to hers.

"Well go on, look through it," Zelda laughed after watching Avalon stare at the green cover of the journal for a few minutes.

"You want me to open it?" Avalon was flabbergasted, only making Zelda laugh even more.

"Yes!" And because Zelda was so impatient, she had to open the journal herself. She took Avalon through the pages she specifically wanted her to see.

Avalon had never felt so frozen in her life. Her eyes, though, were taking everything in. Every last detail Avalon took in with a rush. She recognized some drafts that would later become a published short stories throughout history and there were others that would never make it. Those were the ones that would be lost either because of Zelda's self doubt or because of the fire that would end her life.

"What do you think, then?" Zelda asked with her tongue between her teeth, absolutely nervous to hear Avalon's opinions.

"These are fantastic," Avalon laughed. "I-I would love to see these be published one day."

"Really? All of them?"

"Yes! I like this one," Avalon flipped through the pages to go back to a certain draft that would fortunately make it to the public in a few years. The Original Follies Girl is what Zelda would eventually settle on for the title. "I know the ending isn't all that nice but the first part makes you want to be that girl. Somebody who everyone wants to be friends with, a somebody who's admired by people."

Zelda's lips thinned into a smile. "I think that will be you someday, Avalon. Course I think it'll be because of your work, not because of your looks, though that might also be a factor."

Avalon playfully rolled her eyes. "Right."

"I mean it. I know that your work is going to be amazing whenever you decide to publish it. And just like you once told me, I in you you. I believe that anything you write is going to be a hit."

Avalon looked at the journal in front of her, truly touched that she was able to see such a magnificent journal. "You really think so?"

"I know so, honey!"

There was a brief moment of indecision for Avalon but holding Zelda's journal made it fade into the deepest part of her mind. "Hold on." Like Zelda had done before, Avalon left the terrace to grab her purse from the couch. She returned holding her journal against her chest. "I, um, I've never really shown this to anyone before. There's so much stuff in here." It's an endless journal, after all. The Doctor made it so. "You'll think it's crazy."

Zelda laughed with a shake of her head. "If you think it's crazy, then it means you've created fantasy. Can I have a peek?"

Avalon bit her lip as she sat down again. Before the voices started layering the self-doubt in her head, Avalon held her journal out to Zelda. "You're the first person to see it," she said as she intently watched Zelda flip through the pages. If there was anything outstanding in it, Avalon was sure she could play it off as a fantasy story, just like Zelda said. But there were true drafts she'd began that would mean a lot if Zelda took a read.

Short minutes felt like hours as Avalon waited for Zelda's verdict. Eventually, Zelda looked up with a wide grin. "You have an incredible mind. Such impossible things you write about. Metal men? Wedding crashers? A child made out of a tree!? Avalon...your mind is a cavern of stories!"

"You don't think it's weird?" Avalon studied the woman for any indication that she did think it weird and was just lying.

Zelda shook her head. "Of course not! No one else has thought of these things! And creatures that make you forget them when you look away from them? You wrote some deep things for that. The trauma, near depression...God help that poor character of yours." Zelda realized Avalon was crying before Avalon herself. She curiously watched the girl, trying to work something out before Avalon would notice it.

"All just stories," Avalon said once she checked back into reality. She rubbed her eyes and yawned for good measure, hoping she could pass her little moment off as a sign of sleep.

"Ava," the Doctor cautiously poked his head into the terrace, smiling when he found the two women. "I don't mean to interrupt but I really think you should get some rest."

"And yet you just interrupted," Avalon playfully rolled her eyes. She wasn't quite sleepy but it was futile to argue with him. Minimum he wanted her to at least try to sleep.

"Oh let him be," Zelda looked back at the Doctor with a smile. "Taking care of her must be a hassle, huh?"

"You wouldn't believe it," the Doctor relished in Zelda's support. He leaned against the doorframe, dramatically sighing. "All I want is for my Ava to take it easy and it's like she hears 'you're never going out again'."

Avalon glared at him. "Funny, all I'm hearing right now is 'you're going to die'."

"Avalon," Zelda chuckled and handed her journal back. The Doctor was quite surprised to see that in Zelda's hands. "If you were sick and your husband wants to take care of you, let him. Sometimes it's nice to be pampered."

Avalon awkwardly coughed and avoided the Doctor's shocked face at all costs. Yeah, that one came back to bite her for not saying the truth. She got up from her chair, her journal to her chest. "I think maybe it is time to sleep."

"Well, I showed the Doctor your bedroom earlier. I even left some clothes you might want for sleep. That dress, while stunning, is not very comfortable for sleeping." Zelda watched Avalon carefully make her way around the chairs. She was immediately enveloped in the Doctor's arms. He tenderly kissed the side of her head and murmured something in her ear. It had to be something either sweet or annoying because Avalon rolled her eyes at him.

Eventually, Avalon shooed him into the house and awkwardly smiled. "He's...I apologize for his dramatics."

Zelda laughed and rose from her chair. "I think he's funny. Definitely a sweet fella who wants to take care of you."

"I was sick a while back, but I'm really better now," Avalon assured her before she started taking a leaf out of the Doctor's book.

"Still, one more night can't hurt you. If he wants to, oh I don't know, tuck you into bed, let him." She folded her arms and smirked. "Could be ground zero for some yummy times."

Avalon's face went stark red while Zelda snickered. "I think...I am going to sleep," Avalon declared.

"Mhm."

"I really hate you," Avalon shook her head.

"Oh don't be shy, sugar! It's alright!"

Avalon shook her head again and her hand. She did not want to hear anymore of this. "Goodnight Zelda. I'll see you in the morning." She hurried back inside the house and was so relieved to see the Doctor waiting for her by the hallway, nowhere near the terrace. That meant she only had to explain for the husband part and not...not the second part.

"I am so sorry," she started when she pulled him into the hallway.

"For what?" he cluelessly asked her.

"Zelda just assumed that we were married and I was going to correct her, I swear I was, but she just kept talking and talking so...I sort of let it be."

The Doctor stopped walking and forced her to do the same. "Why would I be mad at that? It's not the first time someone presumes I'm married. I don't know what it is, it just always happens."

Avalon keenly studied him. "You're...you're serious? You're not upset?"

"No! So someone thinks you're my...my wife." A smile started spreading across his face. Something about that made him feel all warm inside. "That is not the end of the world."

Avalon blushed under his gaze. "Really?" She whispered. From her end, she couldn't see any problem with someone thinking she was his wife either...she just wasn't brave enough to admit it.

"Have you seen yourself, Ava? Anyone would be lucky enough to be your husband." The Doctor took her by the waist and lowered his head down for a short kiss. "I think a handful of the men at the party wished that after you sang so beautifully."

Avalon waved that off. "How unlucky for them that I was only singing to you." She went on her tippy-toes to kiss him again.

"C'mon, you really should try to rest."

Avalon dramatically groaned as he led her to their designated bedroom. "But I'm really not tired."

"You always say that and yet there's a handful of times where you end up falling asleep," the Doctor stopped by a door and grabbed the knob. "After a day like today, I'm pretty sure it's going to be one of those times."

"But I don't feel tired," Avalon insisted and slipped in-between him and the door. "I would much rather do something else." Her fingers danced along his chest as she suggestively smiled up at him.

"Don't be confused, I do love all the kissy moments but I can't let my Ava go without sleep," the Doctor tapped her nose but before he could draw his hand away, she grabbed it and settled it on her hip again. "Avalon…"

"How about this, I'm going to kiss you and if you don't kiss back then I will try to sleep," she promised with her typical sly smile. She knew exactly what she was doing, always did, and it was a shame that she always won. Her hands crawled up to his neck, loosely joining behind, and in two seconds she had planted her lips against his.

The Doctor could smell her rich lavender scent, just further adding to the unfair fight. He learned long ago that it was useless trying to fight her off because every time she kissed him, he wanted to kiss her back. Today's moment had her wearing a dress that made her simply exquisite. His hands had already found her exposed back - at what point that happened, he had no idea. He only knew that he couldn't move his hands off that part.

Avalon unwinded one arm to find the doorknob behind her because she wanted no interruptions and Amy and Rory were very good at that. She had no trouble finding it, despite being very occupied, and pushed it open. The Doctor had to hold her tighter due to the sudden loss of their support but Avalon managed to walk them inside, leaving him to shut the door behind. They fervently kissed each other while they crossed the room. The Doctor was aware that the longer they spent kissing the harder it was to want to let Avalon go. She fit so nicely between his arms and no matter where his hands roamed (or lips) on her body, it felt right. It felt like he needed to touch her, feel her warm, smooth skin and keep her sweet lips plump with all his kisses.

That's because you love her. Youloveheryouloveheryouloveheryouloveher-

Avalon's legs had hit the edge of the bed, knocking them both into reality. For Avalon, it was a mere nuisance that she would gladly ignore and go back to the happy kissing but for the Doctor it was a reminder. He needed self control, for his part and hers. She was still recuperating after all.

"No, don't," Avalon pouted when he untangled her arms from him. "I thought we were having fun." She looked past him to see her purse on the ground. No idea when I did that, she realized with a smirk.

"I was, am," the Doctor clarified quickly before she got any ideas. "But you need your rest and this...this is not resting."

"So?" Avalon sighed. "Fairy Tale Man, I have to ask if this and sorry for being daring because I know that you blush but...do you want me?"

"What!?"

"You heard me."

"Ava…" the Doctor cleared his throat, his face warm as ever and he was sure that it was red too.

"I have to ask because each time you just kind...recoil from me," Avalon bit her lower lip like it was gum all of a sudden. "It's never really happened to me before." She waited for an answer but all the Doctor did was stare at her with a smile working its way across his face. "Are you going to answer or did I just humiliate myself into the next century?"

"You asked a fair question but I'm just not sure how to answer it without...making you blush." He smirked when he saw just that happening. "What kind of question is that?" He reached to touch her cheek, tracing a pattern over it. "You're intelligent, passionate, stunning...an absolute princess. Who wouldn't want you?"

"I don't care about anyone else, only you," Avalon said quietly.

"Yes, absolutely yes." The Doctor was able to pull her back to him. He kept an arm around her waist while he nuzzled the side of her face. "You have no idea how much self control I've been exercising lately. You drive me crazy."

Avalon's lips twitched into a smile, soon into a smirk. "So what are you waiting for?"

The Doctor chuckled lightly, though his hearts did skip a beat at her light request. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. "Not the moment, certainly not the place." Avalon's eyebrows knitted together, puzzled until it shifted into annoyance. The Doctor sensed where her thoughts were going and turned her around so that her back was to his chest. There he lightly swayed them and pressed a kiss to Avalon's neck. "See, when I finally get to kiss and touch you the way I want to...we're going to need a room with thicker walls…"

Avalon blushed but her smirk widened. "Ah, so you're confident."

"Very."

"If you start saying from your experiences, I'll kill you."

"I won't if you won't. You seem to know your way around things as well."

"Well…"

"What I just say?"

Avalon laughed. "I love…" She caught herself at the nick of time. Oh my God. She turned around wearing a usual smile. "Thanks for explaining that." She fixed his skewed hair and took in a breath. "I look forward to that moment."

"As do I," the Doctor promised. "Get some rest please. Try."

"I can't do that unless my Fairy Tale Man is lying right next to me." She shrugged and backtracked from him. Zelda had left folded clothing on the foot of the bed so she swiped it off and pointed at the Doctor. "I won't try unless you're here."

"Where else would I be?"

Avalon triumphantly grinned. In a few minutes, she had forgone her beaded dress and put on a simple silk chiffon nightgown. She wasn't that surprised it hung a bit below her knees. For a time that thought it daring, Zelda was no stranger to the different fashions. Avalon wasn't interested in the shorter styles. Her mind was stuck on the accidental near slip up from earlier. Even though it was a slip up, after everything she heard, would it really be that bad if she finally told the Doctor? Her heart pounded at the idea of telling him but there was also an excitement she couldn't deny. Maybe it was time.

With those jumbled thoughts she climbed into bed and patted the spot next to her for the Doctor to join her. She giggled when he tickled her side and brought her closer to him. Even if she wasn't tired, she could lay there with him all night (or at least what was left of the night).

"I did have fun today. Thanks for bringing me here," she said after spending some nice quiet time. "It was good to see Zelda again."

"We can come back anytime you want," the Doctor said, knowing Avalon would love the idea.

"I'd like that," she nodded, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. "She showed me her journal...and I showed her mine. I've never done that. Are you mad I never showed it to you?"

"Of course not. One day I'll get to see it," he said, tucking a few strands of her curls between them.

"I just want to make sure it's perfect before you see it," she said, biting her lip. "Zelda kinda gave me pointers on a few drafts. But I also let her see the, um, things I wrote about our travels. She thought it was fake of course. Was that bad?"

"Nah, you'd be surprised how many people in the past know about me and my, uh, unique nature, and they deal with it rather well. We've become good friends."

"I know it's silly but I really do consider Zelda a friend. She's my special friend cos, you know, she's like my writing idol. Thanks for giving me that opportunity. I never thought in my life that I would get to meet her."

"You don't have to thank me, Ava. You know I'd do anything for you." He gave her a sweet kiss on her lips.

She rested her hand over his cheek when he kept his head hovering over hers. He kept saying that, didn't he? He made her feel so special all the time. Even when they bickered she got a thrill that absolutely no one gave her...and she had done a lot of bickering with other people. Everything he did, even if he was making her try to sleep when she didn't want to, had her feeling special.

"I love you," she whispered and suddenly her eyes couldn't meet his anymore.

Initially, the Doctor couldn't really decide if he had heard her right. His hearts had started hammering the moment he thought he heard her say those words. That sure made it easier to decide. Avalon didn't repeat it, she stayed quiet and kept herself busy by playing with the buttons of his shirt.

She was waiting.

And she was incredibly nervous.

"Ava…" the Doctor gently pulled her fingers off him and kept her hand within his.

She looked at him very briefly before finding the ceiling very interesting, but the Doctor was quicker in that moment. He'd seen the nervousness in her eyes, how anxious she was to hear his response. He almost laughed. If only she knew.

"I love you," he finally told her. He laughed at how quickly her eyes snapped back to him.

"Yeah?" She still whispered but even then her voice sounded like it'd lost air. She had lost air. "You do?"

"You have no idea the time I've spent swallowing these words down. I thought I'd freak you out if I told you."

"What? Why on Earth would you think that?"

"Because we've only been dating for a few months? Pretty sure saying 'I love you' months into a relationship is a huge no-no."

"And when exactly have we ever been the normal type of relationship?"

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue...then shut it. That was right. Very right. Nothing about them was normal. "I do love you."

"I love you," Avalon tested the way she would say those words from now on. She loved the way the words sounded each time she repeated them, and she repeated them several times. The Doctor eventually laughed at her but she whacked him until he apologized and said it back to her as many times as she had to 'make her feel better'.

And as it turned out, it became one of those nights where she was a little bit tired. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was still sleeping a little more than usual due to the medication she was still on and because of her recuperating health overall. She fell asleep somewhere in the middle of their bickering, missing when the Doctor declared a triumphant 'I win' at her sleeping form.

~ 0 ~

"So sorry I can't offer you a decent breakfast," Zelda offered yet another apology to the group after setting out the little bits of biscuits and fruit she had left in the fridge. "Each party wipes us out, believe it or not. They do eat while drinking."

"It's really fine," Amy tried to stop the woman from going crazy in the kitchen but Zelda kept searching through cabinets while they watched from the table. "We're not that big on breakfast anyways."

"Nonsense, I know Avalon's on a specific diet for her health."

"Yeah, but I'm fine," went the woman in question. "Really Zelda, come sit down. We'll be leaving soon and I'd rather talk instead of watching you search for an apple."

Zelda smiled at the group, though rather nervously if Avalon had to describe it. She pressed her dress down as she returned to the table. "Avalon, can I show you something? Before you go?"

"Of course," Avalon was quick to get up from her chair. She wasn't hungry anyways.

Zelda led her back to the living room where she picked up her green journal from the coffee table. "I, um, I sort of started something last night...after we talked. I hope you don't mind but it's about you, sugar."

"Me?" Avalon blinked, pointing at herself as if there was someone else in the room and Zelda had just spoken to the wrong person.

"Yes, I think it's fitting that whatever I publish next should be about you. An impossible girl, right?" Avalon looked at the journal and Zelda until the latter pushed the journal into her hands. "Read it, please?"

Avalon silently looked at the draft. There were still notes on the margins but she saw the title clear as day. 'The Impossible Girl'. A smile came to her face as she read through the lines. Despite understanding very little of the future, Zelda had managed to capture the essence of the adventures Avalon had gone through. She twisted it into her own world, making it so that Avalon still retained her beautiful human nature. Zelda made her the girl everyone wanted to be but absolutely no one could be.

"I...I love this!" Avalon exclaimed with the happiest of smiles on her face.

Zelda beamed. "Really? Oh, that means a lot!"

Avalon laughed. The irony of things. Her favorite author was telling her that her opinion meant a lot. "Zelda, thank you for writing this. I...I can't believe you managed to make this fantasy into, well, a good story."

"Oh," Zelda gently took the journal from Avalon with an odd expression on her face. "I could only do so much to make it good, nothing to what you must have truly experienced in these moments."

The laugh and smile faded from Avalon's face. "What...what do you mean?"

"I don't understand how it's possible but...I'm fairly certain all those things you wrote in your journal are true."

"What…?" Avalon nervously laughed. "Why-why would you think that?"

"Because no one cries as sad and scared as you did last night," Zelda touched Avalon's arm with a soft smile. "And I am so sorry for all the horrors you had to go through."

"Zelda, I don't know what you're thinking but it's not...it's not true. I mean, really, creatures that make you forget?" And yet as Avalon made the best argument she could come up with, tears were pooling in her eyes. It was the same sad, scared tears Zelda saw last night.

Zelda reached over to wipe a few tears off Avalon's face. "Oh sugar, no more tears. I think you've cried enough." Avalon tried her best not to cry but she was already sniffling. Zelda pulled her into a big hug. "You've gone through so much and yet you decided to come back and visit someone as insignificant as me."

"No, never," Avalon sniffed and hugged her tighter. "You're my friend. You're my friend who I wish lived near me."

"Where are you from? Really?"

Avalon hesitated to answer her, but the Doctor's words flew into her mind. 'Nah, you'd be surprised how many people in the past know about me and my, uh, unique nature, and they deal with it rather well. We've become good friends.' Could it be that Zelda would be one of those people for her? Something in her heart told her that she was right.

"2011," Avalon said and immediately felt Zelda stiffened. Before she could pull away, Avalon gripped the author into the hug. "I'm from a small town called Leadworth in England. I grew up learning about people in history and I always loved learning about Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald. She was my idol and I-I always wished I could meet her to tell her how much her work meant to me because I was always an outcast at home. We're very similar despite the hug gap between our lives. Being your friend has been a dream come true."

Now it was Zelda who had tears in her eyes. Avalon loosened her grip and allowed her to part. "It's impossible but it's the only way things make sense. You...you really learned about me?"

"You are not insignificant," Avalon took her hands and smiled. "You are an icon. I once dressed up as you for Halloween."

"What?" laughed Zelda.

Avalon's smile widened. "I did. You have always been my inspiration to write and the day I do write something it'll be in your name. So please, please, don't let anyone tell you that your work doesn't matter, that you don't matter."

"Avalon Reynolds believes in me," Zelda chuckled, remembering Avalon's very similar words she said in Montgomery. Avalon firmly nodded her head. "Well, you go back home then and think of me each time you want to scrap up whatever you drafted because I want you to pick it up and rewrite it. I believe that one day you will write an amazing book, a book so fantastic that you'll have everyone reading it. Zelda Sayre believes in you, Avalon, and she also believes that you are strong enough to keep going. Don't let those, um, Silence things and that woman win. You show 'em who's boss."

Avalon chuckled with fresh new tears in her eyes. "Oh, come here!" She encased Zelda in another hug.

Later on, when the group left the villa, Avalon excitedly babbled on about what transpired with Zelda. Amy and Rory were shocked and soon worried that Avalon had made a huge mistake revealing she was from the future but the Doctor seemed fine with it...almost like he expected it. When the Doctor had Avalon in the medbay later on, Avalon still went on about Zelda and lingered on the short story Zelda wrote about her.

"She called it 'The Impossible Girl'. It was so good and not because it was about me. The way she wrote it...Doctor, don't tell me I have to make her get rid of it," Avalon gave him her best pout in hopes that this time they could let history be changed just a tiny bit.

She was incredibly lucky.

"Ava, do you remember that I told you that you had no idea how much of an impact you had on people?"

Avalon distinctly remembered that as part of his sweet words he said to her the first time they visited Leadworth after Berlin. "Yeah…"

"And then I suggested we go visit Zelda again?"

"Yes," Avalon's eyes immediately narrowed on him. "What have you been up to, Fairy Tale Man?"

It was the Doctor's proud moment to show her the short story Zelda Fitzgerald published in 1924 - with her husband's name on the same byline - under the title 'The Impossible Girl'.

Avalon read the entire story and cried tears of joy. At the very end of the story was a small little letter.

'Everyone believes the impossible is just that but sometimes, if you are truly lucky, you get to see it in person...or you get to meet the impossible girl.'

With Love, Z.

#ocappreciation #doctor who #11th doctor #fd: doctor who #dw imagine #11th doctor imagine #11th doctor fics #doctor who fics #dw fics #oc: Avalon Reynolds #fic: falling in temptation #z: the beginning of everything

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