#BUT it’s the first time I’ve figured out tickets/parking/bag check on my own

[lesbiansanemi]

Fighting for my fucking life trying to figure out airport parking rn the website is so confusing about where I can park and what the rates are and whether I can reserve it/pay or not ahead of time

[wisp-of-thought]

I met you when I was young. We were both young, but now I see it. I was 15 and you were older and kind and spent smiles like they cost you nothing. Maybe it was this illusion of abundance that originally tipped me into the fall but you were everything I never thought could exist for me.

My best friend introduced us in passing. I met you mid-morning in the middle of the week in the middle of a bustling hallway. Maybe this was the first sign that we would never be anything all the way. You made a joke about my name but it was all in good fun and to hear my name on your tongue made my palms prick. All I saw was your smile, brilliant enough to blind. It hurt to look at you too long, but I did it anyway. I was always a little bit of a masochist I suppose. You will learn this soon enough, when I love you so hard it hurts. When I manage to turn this soft thing between us sharp. But in fact, you won't. You won't learn this. And perhaps that is where we begin to fall apart. Or when I do. I begin to fall apart. Because we never seemed to do much of anything to you. We never seemed to touch you at all. While we tore me apart. Or I did. I guess it was always me doing the breaking, wasn't it?

We leave after last period to get lunch from the place near school you swear has the best fries. We miss 3 busses trying to figure out the route, the last one is on me because I can't run in flats with my school bag. While I walk, you sprint across the parking lot to buy our tickets but we're already too late. I don't want to watch the movie even if it's only 5 minutes in. I want to leave. I've wanted to leave since we waited for your food in awkward silence for 15 minutes but I swallowed and called it first date nerves even though we never said it was a date and I know now that it most definitely wasn't. And that's how things always were between us, weren't they? Me being let down by my own expectations of you. Me taking your kindness and taking and taking and taking even what wasn't there?

You let me pick what we watch instead since we're already here and pay for my ticket. I return the cost to you in the dark of the theatre. The movie is bad. In fact it's awful. I lean away from you and bite my nails during the sex scenes I didn't expect from the trailer. I wince every time I hear you shift, so sure you hate me as much as you hate the film, quietly begging for it to be over. We leave after it's done. I apologize. I didn't know it would be that terrible. You tell me we totally could have caught the original one we came to see and I nod, holding back tears that taste like shame. But you mean nothing by it.

It's summer, warm and sticky, walking across the parking lot.

I fell out of love with you then.

I didn't know it in that instant but looking back on it, this is the exact moment.

I realize there is nothing here. Nothing between us but space. There is nothing here, and the question is seeded if there ever was. The thought takes many weeks to root and bud. Months to flower and come to fruition. But it is planted here. Here, I keep searching for a feeling of comfort even if just in your presence but there is nothing to find. My stomach turns at my mother's missed calls, she's wondering where I am, who I'm with, and I'm panicking because I am still young. You offer me nothing but shrugged shoulders and it is worse because I know you mean well. Or rather that you mean nothing by it. And suddenly I know that I need you to say something. I need you to say something that matters right now. Or there will be nothing to come back to tomorrow.

But you don't. You don't walk me home. You walk me to the street across from my father's apartment building. Nod. One hand wave. See you later. Walk back across the street before the light can turn red again. You don't look back. And of course, I only know this because I look back. Stare after you. Not heartbroken yet. But gently being let down. For the next few days I would rather not think about you. I try many times to remake how it happened in my head but I'm grasping at threads. There is too little material to sew a new tapestry memory from stray comments and wayward touches.

After this butterflies were not summoned at the sound of your name, funny how easy delicate things die isint it. After this, I did not feel the tug of your orbit's gravity pulling me closer to you in a crowded room. Your words sounded less and less divine to me, I think this is because I started hearing what you were saying instead of what I wanted you to be saying. After this, the poetry about you turned sad, then angry, then ran mostly dry. There were no more tears shed over you in the bathroom around the corner from the theatre classroom because your promises were pretty coloured tissue paper flowers to me now. Good for decoration and conversation, but they would tear easy, for they were never meant to last. Never crafted to be put to the test.

We try again a few times. Every once in a while I find you at my locker at the end of the day and we try again. Painfully awkward, but we try again and again and every time I think it's over you're there again. Here is where you instill in me the inability to get over you all the way. You do it by accident. Or at least mean nothing by it. And I begin to understand this the hard way. It's hard because everything means something to me. For I have spent my life trying to squeeze enough from the nothings cast my way.

You ask me out of the blue if I'd like to go for bubble tea and I say I've never tried it so we do. My mother is at work and my sister is in school and no one is at home to expect me and I feel sickeningly giddy at the little rebellion. The silence is only half as uncomfortable as before. The other half-emptied of expectation and filled with acceptance. But the place is closed and this time I laugh at the inconvenience fate keeps gifting us. I tell myself it's a sign. One I'll look at later. We go somewhere else. Somewhere convenient. Somewhere familiar.

You buy me an iced coffee we playfully push the two dollars back and forth across the table as I insist to pay you back and you refuse. As a gentleman. As a friend. The spell is broken when you ask about a scar and I realize I could never tell you. Well, I could. But I don't want to. That someone like you would never understand. And you let the subject drop so easily. You let it all go so easily. Instead you check the bus schedule and walk me to my stop. You get on your bike and ride down the street and you don't look back.

Another time you meet me at the mall. My father asks to meet you so he does. You are the first boy I know that he ever meets. But of course, this means nothing to you. And so I try to let this mean nothing to me too. I link our arms together and it's easier to touch you. Without anticipation. You leave me after we eat cinnamon rolls and do not look back. And I always find myself looking after you. A part of me brought back to the piece of myself left in that movie theatre parking lot in the afternoon sun. But I don't ever really love you again after that.

And I am better for it.

We are better for it.

I am glad I still have you.

For I don't know what would have become of us if not for your careless gaze and fickle heart.

I do not know what would have become of me.

And I am grateful now, for the falling out of love.

- #1: reflections on falling out of unrequited love with him

[yoonieboonie]

The Substitute Lover (3)

word count: 2.2k

genre: fluff, angst hehe

pairing: myg x reader

summary: Finally meeting the college boy you've been eyeing on for months, everything goes wrong when you realise what you're really getting yourself into.

a/n: this is part 3!!! i finally, finally figured out the whole masterlist thing! anyway, is it alright if i ask for feedback? because it honestly keeps me going and i’ve been writing non-stop bc of the hearts and reblogs you’ve given me. thank you from the bottom of my heart!

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You didn’t sleep a wink that night. What has gotten into Yoongi and he decided to take you to that date? It was clear as day that you didn’t win against him. Your score are tied up, all because you forgot who Plato is. You plop your head on a pillow and let out a muffled scream. Who forgets Plato on a Humanities class? Your eyes trail to the bedside table, watching the big hand of the clock tick the minutes away. Not long after, you realise that it is already morning, and you recall how cold Yoongi’s voice was when he reminded you not to be late. You quickly jumped off the bed and prepared for the day. You presumed that Yoongi didn’t have classes today. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked you to push through with the “date”. On the other hand, you are going to miss a whole day of class. The wind was cold on your skin as you step out your apartment building. You hugged your coat to your chest, adjusting your backpack, remembering Namjoon’s stare each time you use it. It was no surprise to them that you are not fashionable, despite that, they didn’t push their opinion on your fashion choices any further. Walking to the gate, you noticed that it was almost 9:00am. Five minutes to spare. There he was though, in his mighty glory. Your eyes widened at the thought of him waiting for you. It was bad enough that you forced him on this date, furthermore let him wait for you. You half-jogged to where he was. Panting, you started to speak. “Sorry for being late. Have you been waiting long?” Yoongi stayed silent, only eyeing you up and down. He nodded his head and started to stalk out of the campus. You followed him quietly trying to practice in your head how you’d initiate a conversation with him. With your thoughts drifting, you noticed he skidded to a stop once you got to the waiting shed. You both are going to wait for a bus, you concluded. Once the bus arrived, he still refused to talk to you. This was going horrible so far. You were not having the time of your life and he mirrors that too. You took a seat beside him and tried to shake the thought away. Maybe he would open up soon, you decided to be a little more patient. You decided to try one more time and take out your phone. Carefully, you plugged in your earbuds, looking over Yoongi who kept his gaze straight ahead. You meekly tap his shoulder and offered to share it. He glanced briefly and shook his head. You slump in your seat. This was a really bad idea. “We shouldn’t have done this. I’m sorry for forcing you to go.” You stood up, getting ready to alight on the next bus stop. A wrist shoots up and gently grabs your arm. “Where are you going?” He questioned. His first words to you today. Wow. Sighing, you sat again and faced him. You did want to go on a date with him, but not forcibly. “Let’s just go back to the campus. I’m sure Hoseok and Namjoon might be—“ “They won’t.” “How are you sure?” You ask, genuinely curious. “We have classes today. I just skipped.” He explained nonchalantly. Your mouth formed into an O, trying to suppress the crimson red that’s trying to creep onto your cheeks. You can’t help but think that he might’ve wanted this too as much as you did. It sent a foreign feeling to your heart. Subconsciously, you held a hand to it. Noticing this, Yoongi lifted an eyebrow. “Is something the matter with you?” “No, I’m alright. I’m sorry for making you miss class.” You bowed your head. “Stop,” Yoongi spoke. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to.”

As soon as you saw the castle that signals the entrance of the theme park, you ran as fast as you can, momentarily forgetting that you had company. You stared at everything with glee, almost jumping at every sight. Yoongi watched you as he walked towards the same direction. “Let’s go.” You hear him mutter behind you as he finally catches up, breaking into your trance. Both of you lined up to get tickets, Yoongi watches as you clumsily swing your backpack in front in attempt to retrieve your wallet. While rummaging through your things, Yoongi contemplated on what he was about to offer. He did agree to go to whatever this was, but mostly because he wanted to prove Hoseok and Namjoon wrong. That he is indeed capable of moving on and if this stupid date was a proof for that then be it. However, he also didn’t want to make you hope. Yoongi also has a heart.

“I’ll pay.” Yoongi was surprised by his own voice. You looked up, your already doe eyes getting magnified more by your glasses, he let out a small “tsk” as he repeated what he said. Were you deaf? The problem wasn’t that you had bad hearing, but it was because you heard him crystal clear. “No, it’s okay.” You softly smiled, making Yoongi look away. He didn’t want to look at you anymore, it was intriguing but he decided that he wanted this day to be over with. You are making it difficult for him, he thought, but sadly, he has no idea why. He reached out to push your wallet back in your bag. Then after, turning to the cashier to buy two tickets. He handed you one and went in first. The theme park was everything that you expected. The enormous rides, different carts of food to munch on, candies, balloons, and colorful gift shops. You felt overwhelmed by everything. You want to try them all, your eyes practically twinkling with delight. Yoongi can tell you’re holding yourself back so he decided to speak first. “Where do you want to go first?” He asked. You pointed to the gift shop to which he nodded. You both made your way inside and your attention was immediately captured by the variety of headbands mounted to the wall. You grab one, pink bunny ears, to be exact. You quickly try it on, looking over to Yoongi who had a blank expression on his face. You shrugged it off; he doesn’t really seem the type to like these kinds of things. On the other side, Yoongi wants to kick himself for his heart was beating so loudly, if it can burst in his chest, he was pretty sure it will. He tried to keep a blank expression on his face as he watch you pay for the headband that you decided to leave on through the day. The next stop was rides, you were skeptical of asking Yoongi to come with you but it dawned on you that you wanted this so the best you may do is make the most out of it. That’s when you grab Yoongi’s jacket sleeve, dragging him to various rides. He let you drag him, not one complaint from him.

After about five rides, you both were exhausted. It was around noon and you were both hungry too. Since Yoongi paid for the tickets, it’s only fair for you to buy the food. So as you both take a seat at an empty table at the park’s food court, you excused yourself to use the restroom when you actually went to but hotdogs and soda instead. Yoongi noticed that you took a while; he tried to ignore the worry building inside him especially when you revealed that you were new in Seoul and was from Daegu all your life. Did you get lost? He checked his watch and when he concluded that you were taking too long, he prepared to stand up and gather his things when he saw you trying to juggle a tray of food in your hands. You walked towards him and placed the food on the table. You placed the hotdog and a can of soda in front of him and beamed. “Eat well, Yoongi. Thank you for taking me here.” Yoongi said nothing but started to eat. You did as well but you wanted to know more about him so you tried to initiate a small talk. “How old are you?” you asked, taking a sip from your soda. He stayed silent so you took that as a cue to speak again. “I’m 23. Taking up Bachelor of Science Major in Business Administration. Born and raised in the farmlands of Daegu.” You chatter away when you noticed him playing with the pendant of the necklace he was wearing. Your eyes watch his slender fingers twirl it around, clearly uncomfortable with the ongoing conversation. “Is that hers?” You boldly asked. His hands halted to a stop, dropping on the table. You notice him tense up and look away. “It’s none of your business, Y/N. Please don’ bring it up again.” He stated icily. You frankly felt bad for imposing on him like that. He wasn’t obligated to tell you anything. You felt absolutely horrible and wanted to disappear from the face of the earth. Instead, you cleared your throat and started to apologise. “I’m sorry for asking such a personal question, Yoongi. It’s just, I want to get to know you more and I overstepped a line. Again, I am sincerely sorry.” He stood up and you did too. He cleared up the wrappers and empty cans of soda and headed to the trash bin. You were staring at his back while he did so, before you ran your big mouth, you already convinced him to ride inside the waterpark. He initially refused since he didn’t bring spare clothes but so did you. “Let’s go, Yoongi.” You nod your head to the exit. He looked at you, a confused look on his face. “I thought you want to enter the waterpark?” He asked. Strapping the both of you in, the park attendant reminded you the basics. It is basically a log that will bring you to a certain height and zoom you down to a puddle of water. You can feel your adrenaline rushing through your veins as you’re nearing the drop. As you sped down the slope, you screamed with glee and grabbed onto Yoongi’s hands that was already in the railings. A flash blinded you for a second and before you knew it, you are drenched in water.   You stepped off the ride, looking like a wet duckling. Yoongi looked ten times worse, you cringed. You had forced him on this ride despite him warning you about your lack of extra clothes. You shiver slightly as you try to rub your arms in attempt to get warmth. You are failing big time and Yoongi can hear your teeth chattering. Your nose and cheeks now flushed from the cold, you both decided to enter another gift shop. Inside, you noticed that there was a booth that took pictures of the passengers of the ride. The attendant called out to you and Yoongi and offered to show you a picture. Yoongi, as polite as he can, declined and you pouted. You playfully glared at him and asked the attendant if you could see the picture. You wait patiently as the picture was being printed out, handing out the payment. You quickly put it inside your bag for safe keeping. You the proceed to Yoongi who was looking at sweaters that had big bold letters saying “MY OTHER SHIRT GOT WET SO I GOT THIS” and you noticed him holding two in his hand. The notion that you two might have couples clothing made you smile. You both paid for the shirt and head to the nearest restroom to change. The sweater, though the smallest size, ate you up. You were really small, Yoongi noticed. You eyed him up and down. “You look dashing, Yoongi.” “Thanks, it’s the shirt.” He smirked. You were about to say something back when his phone rang. One look at the screen and panic stretched across his face. He held out a finger to you, signaling you to wait for a while as he answered the call. You nodded, also worried for whoever was calling him. He slowly started walking away but he picked up while he was still in earshot. “Jagi?” he breathed. ---------------------------------------------------------

Fairytales are too good to be true anyways. You tell yourself as you kicked a pebble on your way to the bus stop. Yoongi after picking up the call was frantic, not knowing the right words to say. If you remember it correctly, all he was trying to let you know is that he had to go. You, of course, let him.

Stepping into your apartment, you beeline to the bathroom to wash up and head to bed. You were exhausted to the bone. You were getting ready to shower when you saw your reflection at the mirror. You gave out a bitter smile at the sweater you’re wearing, stripping it off, hoping you could also strip off the heaviness you feel inside your heart.

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[highpope]

Silver Keys - Chapter Five

JJ Maybank x OC x Topper Thorton Soulmate AU

warnings: none, let me know if there ever are :)

notes: first, I know this took agesssss I'm sorry but I've been sitting on a couple chapters so you guys should be getting some updates for a while. Second, I lost my tag lists. so lmk if you want added to this one or my general tag list. I've been writing a lot more to cope with my anxiety so... things are coming bahaha. Love you guys, thanks for your support recently - J

Silver Keys Masterlist

June probably wouldn’t admit it to anyone besides her sister and Kie, but going out with Topper was fun. When he had asked her out to have dinner at the country club, she was worried she wouldn’t fit in at all. June was convinced she’d make it about 15 minutes before she bailed and met everyone back at the Chateau. She had on shoes she could barely walk in and a dress she found at goodwill, no doubt someone’s from a homecoming dance in years past and she was fighting the urge to pull her hair up all night. But then she realized they had talked straight through appetizers, dinner, and the waiter had come by twice for the check. The two of them had fallen into a comfortable understanding with each other that had continued into the following weeks.

He picked her up from work on most days, driving around in search of the perfect chocolate chip cookie. June argues that the small bakery run out of one of the local’s houses has the best cookies, but Topper is determined to try every option before making a decision. It had started as kind of a joke, but now it was just an excuse for them to hang out.

Currently, they were at the island’s movie night, chairs propped up near the back and various snacks shared between the two of them. Topper’s arm rested on her shoulders, something she had become accustomed to the past few weeks. June found herself more relaxed with him, it was easy being with Topper. She didn’t have to think or worry, June could just be.

They were playing The Sandlot, arguably the best movie of all time and June had to hold back from saying the iconic lines with the characters. She had grown up watching this movie with her sister and had practically begged Topper to go see it.

“Really?” He had asked the day before, “The movie nights aren’t really our thing.”

“Yeah, that’s because you guys always cause trouble and then get kicked out.”

He shook his head.

“Yes, you do. Besides, you’re gonna be with me and I am a model citizen.”

He laughed then and again in the chair beside her now.

She found herself leaning into him naturally, even with the arms of both their chairs in between them. It was something she had never had previously. June didn’t do relationships. In high school, she mostly stuck with the pogues and focused on school and not getting in trouble with the cops. Sure, she had the occasional crush or hookup with a touron, but nothing was ever serious. Not that this was, but it was closer to that than anything else June had experienced.

The next morning June had her last piano rehearsal with Mrs. Hana before the recital. The Saturday coming up was the big dress rehearsal. The one with the kids from all over the island and hundreds of different schools and programs. And the weekend following that was the recital. Her whole family was going. Her dad had even surprised her by getting a hotel room for all of them and making a whole trip about it. He had to work night shifts for two weeks, but he assured her it was worth it. Not that that added any pressure.

At rehearsal, June played nearly perfectly. She had only messed up a couple of notes near the end. She’d be lucky if Saturday went as smoothly as this. Mrs. Hana corrected her posture and made her go from the top. They went on like this the whole lesson: June playing and her correcting one thing at a time before making her start over. Normally, June would argue, but she knew it was because Mrs. Hana understood how important this was. This could set her future up, get her off the island if she wanted. She could do something she loved every day.

The night before the recital, June was laying on a hammock in John B’s backyard.

“Nervous?” Kie questions.

June shrugged, “Kinda, yeah.”

“I’m sure you’re going to do fine,” Pope said with confidence. It was only the three of them. John B and JJ had ventured out to get snacks and beer but hadn’t been back for an hour. June’s guess was they found a party and couldn’t bother to text an update. That or they got arrested. Which probably would’ve earned a phone call quicker than the first option. She chuckled thinking about this.

“It’s just a rehearsal and Liv is driving down with me so I don’t really have anything to worry about.”

“You seem to have this all figured out,” he said with a laugh.

Kie said, “And I cannot wait to celebrate when you get back! It’s gonna be so fun.”

June could only imagine what her best friend was thinking when she said this. She was sure it would end like most nights did, tipsy and watching movies on John B’s couch. Her favorite way to end a day. The three of them drift into a comfortable silence, lost in their thoughts. June starts to hear a familiar melody, but can’t quite put her finger on it. She was sure it wasn’t anything she had chosen to listen to, but couldn’t figure out where she had heard it before.

She was brought back to reality when John B and JJ come strutting into the yard, cases of beer on their shoulders and grocery bags in their hands. Kie and June both started cheering.

They set down the stuff on the closest table.

“What took so long?” Pope asked, getting up and rummaging through the bags. He pulls out a bag of chips before turning around.

“You’re not even going to believe it.” John B starts, taking a seat.

“Hey,” JJ yelled at June, “Gummies?” He asks and holds up a bag of gummy worms.

She nods her head and he tosses them over before grabbing his own snack and beer and joining her on the hammock. They all listen to JB’s story, JJ adding in his own variations and making everyone laugh.

“And who ended up being in front of us at the grocery store?” He paused for dramatic effect, “Sarah Cameron.”

June realized a beat late that she was supposed to be reacting, “Sarah Cameron!” she repeated.

JJ turned his head to keep from laughing.

“Am I supposed to be excited?” Kie asked, an annoyed expression on her face. She and Sarah used to be friends before they drifted into different friend groups.

“Yes, Kie. It was like fate.”

JJ spoke up, “I would hardly call it fate.”

John B just rolled his eyes at his friends and took another drink.

“What happened to Molly Fields?” Pope questioned. That was the girl we had gone to elementary school with, the latest victim of John B’s soulmate search.

“Nah,'' he dismissed, “This one’s different.”

“Well, I hope it is, JB,” June spoke up. He looked over and smiled at her.

The next morning June and Olivia jump in the car and start towards the concert hall where her dress rehearsal was being held. She had been up for hours, too excited and nervous to sleep. June had gotten ready, done her makeup, changed three times, and called Topper twice all before Olivia had even woken up. Downstairs, their mom had made some breakfast and June couldn’t bear to tell her she was too nervous to eat anything. So, she grabbed a pancake and thanked her parents.

They listened to music the whole way down, Liv was always determined to get June to listen to the most mainstream pop music she could. She always argued that she wouldn’t understand anyone’s references and it would be an embarrassing mess. June made sure to point out that she had made it 18 years without that ever happening, but nonetheless she persisted.

When they arrived, they parked the car and decided to window shop. They were still about an hour early from call time and Liv was restless enough as it was. June was trying to push her nerves down. She didn’t want to come across that way to the instructors. June had a vision that she would walk across the stage, take a deep breath, and be transported by the music. She didn’t want to have the weight of the competition on her shoulders or the constant confusion about her soulmate circling in her head. That was a new development. June found herself lying awake at night going over everything Topper had said or done and trying to place it into this mysterious soulmate cut out she had in her head. She was trying to do a puzzle with the wrong number of pieces. And she wasn’t even sure if it was the right picture on the box.

….

“Okay, turning the key a bunch of times isn’t going to do any good if the battery is dead,” Olivia said, snapping her head to look at June from the passenger side.

After the dress rehearsal, June had called Liv and the two of them had eaten in the cafeteria with a few other performers. June was practically glowing after being there for a few hours, she couldn’t imagine how she would feel at the actual recital. Everything was going perfectly.

Until they got back to the car and realized the battery was dead.

“Well,” June sighed, “I don’t know what else to do.” Her voice pinched.

“Can’t we call a mechanic?”

“Liv, you know we can’t afford that. Especially in this area. We just need a jump.”

She surveyed the empty parking lot and tried to think of what to do without panicking. They were too far from home to have someone just pick them up and there were no cars in sight. Even if there were, they didn’t have any jumper cables. Maybe they could take the bus home and get help tomorrow. June probably had enough cash in her purse for two bus tickets.

“Isn’t there like a trick with distilled water? That could get us somewhere.”

“You think I have distilled water in my car? Besides, I have no idea how to do that.”

“I’m just trying to give you ideas here,” Olivia said, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car.

June leaned her head back and closed her eyes, thinking and thinking.

She was interrupted when Olivia opened the driver’s side door and handed her the phone, “here.”

Confused, June lifted the phone to her ear, “hello?”

“June? What’s going on?” JJ’s voice was on the other end.

“J, we’re fine. Just a little car trouble.” She rolled her eyes at her sister.

“We’re stranded!” Olivia yelled so that he could hear.

“We’re fine,” she said, shooting her sister a look.

JJ speaks up, “Doesn’t sound fine. June, I’ll just come out and help. No problem.”

“No, no. We just need a jump-”

“I’m already in the car, just send me your location.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I’m going to.”

Defeated, June agrees and sends him the address of the music hall.

About 45 minutes later, JJ pulls into the parking spot opposite of them, “Hey,” he says as he turns the key and gets out of the car.

“Oh thank god! JJ, do you have AC? I’m melting.” Olivia yells. She’s already getting in his truck and rotating the fans to blow her hair back before he can process what she’s just said.

“I’m sorry,” June starts, but he interrupts her.

“Eh, no big deal”

“I can give you gas money for coming all the way out here.”

He shakes his head, “Nah. Here catch.” JJ throws one end of the jumper cables to her, “You know how to put them on?”

June scoffs, “This isn’t my first jump, Maybank.”

Once everything is sorted out with June’s car, the three of them drive to the nearest ice cream shop. Mostly because Olivia was being dramatic and promised to pay for herself, but also to thank JJ for driving the whole way out here just to get them home.

“I don’t know, it’s like what if my soulmate doesn’t like ice cream? Ew, or worse, orders mint chocolate chip.” Olivia said as they headed to a table outside. The spot they had picked was really nice, there were picnic tables with umbrellas lined up on a patio in front of the window they had ordered from.

June just laughed, a conversation the two of them had had more than once.

“What’s wrong with mint chocolate chip?” JJ asked.

Olivia made a face, “only everything.”

“Isn’t the whole point of a soulmate that you overlook those flaws and-”

“Please. Don’t lecture me.” She begs.

“She’s kinda right though,” JJ replies, looking at June for a second and scrunching his nose. She smiles back, looking down at her ice cream.

“Have you heard it?” She asks him.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “the other night at John B’s.” He meets June’s eyes. “I fell asleep on the pullout and the storm woke me up. So I was just laying awake and that’s when I heard it. It was really faint. Mad weird though,” He finished and took a bite of his ice cream, making June shudder.

She remembered the night he was talking about. It had stormed for about two days last week. She thought about what she was probably doing at the time, practicing for the recital, maybe reading until

she drifted off.

“Do you think you know who it is?” Olivia inquired.

He shook his head, “No, haven’t thought about it.”

“You don’t wanna know?”

“I mean, sure. But if I’m gonna find out anyway by force of,” he struggled for the right word before landing on, “the universe, then why stress right now?”

That answer seemed to have satisfied her enough because she nodded her head and stopped asking questions.

When she finally pulled into her driveway, June had a phone call.

The three of them had left shortly after ice cream, JJ following them most of the way back before he went off towards John B’s and June continued straight, with a quick wave behind her.

Olivia had practically jumped out of the car before she had even parked so now, June answered her phone, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Hey,”

“Hey!” Topper said on the other end, “I wanted to see how everything went. I stopped by your house just a little bit ago, but your car wasn’t in front.”

June groaned, “That’s because we just now pulled in. The practice was great! Everyone was so talented and I got to meet a couple of instructors. It was really cool.”

“That’s amazing, bub.”

“Yeah, it really was.”

“What took you so long getting home?”

“Oh, uh. I just had some car trouble, no biggie.”

“Oh, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just needed a quick jump and then we were on our way.” June chuckled, nervously. She hadn’t even thought to call Topper when her car wouldn’t start. Truthfully she hadn’t thought to call anyone, but she still felt nervous to tell him what happened.

“So someone had cables? That’s pretty lucky.” He pressed.

“Uhm. No, actually. We had to call JJ for some help and then we were good to go. It drove perfectly on the way home.”

There was a pause before he spoke again, “You could’ve called or texted me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I wasn’t even the one who called JJ, it was Liv.”

“Well, I could’ve helped.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“I would’ve called a mechanic for you, had someone come out and get you.”

“And I would have really appreciated it,” June laughed nervously, “Next time I promise I will call you.”

He stayed silent for a long time before speaking, “It’s just your first thought wasn’t to call your boyfriend. Forgive me if I’m a little upset.”

She pondered over his words for a moment, skipping over the mention of ‘boyfriend,’ “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “yeah, you’re right. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

June nodded even though he couldn’t see her and hung up the phone. She huffed, threw her phone in her bag, and marched up the sidewalk inside.

[keanureevesisbae]

Protection Chapter 4

Summary: Mia is deeply hurt by August, only she is the one with a slight problem now: her heater is broken.

August Walker x Mia Makaruku (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: I hope everyone had a lovely few days! please let me know what you think about this chapter. I love to read about it 🤗

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter 

That Saturday I had my second to last game and I scored not one, not two, but three goals. Some even said I might’ve set a record for the fastest going goals in the history of female soccer. That might have something to do with me being still so damn mad at August.

I mean, I know I said I was going to accept his hot and cold attitude, since there would be a kind man underneath that harsh exterior, but after being hurt like that, I just figured that I couldn’t accept it anymore. He was harsh and borderline mean to me.

I don’t understand him anymore, but what I do know is that him being like that to me, is probably not going to change. Maybe I’m being a baby and totally overreacting, but I decided that it is best for my own wellbeing if I not talk to him anymore and so far, it’s working. Despite August always being home, I only bumped into him once and that for being next door neighbors.

Yesterday we both stepped into the elevator, but since I know him a bit, I was just sure he wouldn’t start a conversation with me.

I was right. However, I had to go against all my own impulses and you can almost say reflexes to not start a conversation with him.

August told me he doesn’t do apologies, so I shouldn’t be expecting one from him.

When I wake up that Sunday, a day after my game, I’m hit with a painful cold. Normally, Bobo sleeps on top of my blankets, but now he is securely curled up underneath them. Why is it this cold in here? I slip on some thick socks (that feels like two large ice cubs) and rush to my thermostat.

Only to discover it’s not working?!

‘Shit, shit, no,’ I whine. I really can’t use that right now. I mean, I can’t ever use it, but right now I really don’t want it. I check the card that hangs next to the thermostat and it informs me I can call the mechanic at nine on a Sunday.

It’s seven now, which is absolutely fantastic.

While my body is slowly freezing up and my nipples are the evidence of the cold temperatures (I’m really happy I’m all by myself now), I go to the bathroom to check if my shower can provide me with some warmish water. I grab the shower head and I wait until the water turns even slightly warm.

It doesn’t.

Great, so even a shower can’t keep me warm. I desperately need a shower, my sore muscles need some relaxation. I turn off the water and I walk to my bedroom. After I put on a bra and some more layers, I jump around, desperately trying to keep myself warm, but it’s useless. It’s what? Minus a billion degrees in here? I’m never gonna warm up, even if I wanted to.

I look over at the wall, the one that separates my apartment from August’s. I could do it, you know. I could just go over there and demand I can stay over at his place. I mean, that’s what he does and considers normal.

I can do that too. I can demand some shelter for a few moments. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

Right?

Nah, it’s not. I’m too damn proud to do such thing.

The two hours go by really slow, but at least I got myself a good work out in, because I was desperately trying to keep warm. and I curled up underneath my blankets, but it was of no use. When I finally can call the mechanic, the shithead on the other line told me he couldn’t come in until three in the afternoon. Six whole hours in this freezing cold? That is something I simply cannot do. I want a hot shower and just chill in my sweats all day. I deserve that after last night’s game.

I grab some clothes, my shampoo and skincare products and pick up Bobo, who feels like a hot water bottle, but is not enough to keep me warm. I close the door of my apartment and with my elbow I knock on August’s door. It takes awhile before he opens the door, but when he does so, he frowns and looks visibly confused.

Probably because I’m holding Bobo and have a big bag with me.

‘What do you want?’

Always the gentleman. I should’ve thought this through, but I think the frostbite has reached my brain before I could do so. ‘I have a problem,’ I say. ‘My heater is broken and the mechanic comes at three.’

He leans against the doorframe. August looks different and I think it’s because of the grey sweatpants. I never really pecked him for a guy who wore something like that, matched with a thick hoodie. ‘Okay?’

Demand shelter, Mia, you can do it. ‘You should give me shelter,’ I say. Okay, that was’t exactly what I was aiming for, but it’s a start. ‘I cannot handle six hours in the freezing cold and I also don’t have hot water, so I can’t shower. Before you ask: ‘Why would I do this?’, remember, I did the same for you and I paid for the court side tickets.’

‘Tickets you bought before you even knew you were going to take me with you,’ he retorts. He sighs deeply. ‘Does the animal has to come as well?’

‘The animal is very sweet,’ I tell him and almost on cue Bobo starts to hiss. ‘Okay, maybe not to you, but please… Just let me stay here for six hours. If you do so, I might forgive you for being a total ass to me last Wednesday.’

‘I wasn’t an ass to you,’ he says, but when I cock my eyebrow, he looks kinda caught. ‘Okay, I maybe was an ass to you sometimes.’

‘All the time,’ I interrupt in.

‘Not the entire time. Just the ending,’ he tells me. ‘Okay, okay, please, come in, Mia and the creepy cat. Make yourself at home.’

At first I’m afraid he is being sarcastic (I mean, we’re talking about August Walker and it didn’t sound like it came from the heart), but when he actually steps aside, I realize he is serious. ‘Thank you,’ I say with a smile and I walk into his pretty boring apartment. I’ll let it slide for now, because he just moved in. I place Bobo on the ground and he struts through the apartment, avoiding August. Being here feels like I’m being wrapped up in a warm blanket.

August walks passed me to the kitchen and I decide to walk after him. ‘Are we going to talk about Wednesday?’ I ask him.

‘No.’

Figured. ‘Come on, August. Just… We should talk about this, to clear the air.’

‘I don’t want to talk.’ He places his hands on the counter and I don’t know where I’ve got the guts from, but I dare to step closer to him.

‘I bet there was a reason why you were like that this Wednesday,’ I continue. ‘You can talk to me, you know?’

‘I don’t want to talk about my feelings, especially not with you,’ he barks out.

Weirdly enough, this doesn’t hurt me, because I think he doesn’t mean it. ‘August,’ I whisper, ‘please. I just want to know why you continue to hurt me, when I’m nothing but nice to you, minus maybe the pedophile comment.

He clenches his jaw. ‘You want coffee?’

Why is he ignoring me? ‘Sure,’ I say, because I can actually use a cup. ‘Can’t you just try to be nice to me, without it being sandwiched in between insults? I’m not forcing you to go skipping with me in a park and make flower crowns with me, while feeding the ducks. I’m just asking you to cut the insulting crap and be nice to me.’

August actually turns his back to me and I let out a sigh. What was I even thinking?

‘I can try.’

Did I just hear that correctly? ‘What?’ I ask. ‘You can try?’

‘I can.’ He pours in some coffee for me and hands me a mug.

‘Thank you,’ I say with a gentle smile. I carefully place my hand on his underarm and he looks up, nearly snapping his neck in the process. ‘I really want to get to know you,’ I say to him in a soft tone. ‘But only if you allow it, okay?’

He nods. ‘Yes, okay,’ he says.

‘You want to get to know me?’ I ask with a chuckle.

‘Weirdly enough: yes.’

I roll my eyes. ‘August.’

‘Wait, wait, wait, I can do better,’ he says. ‘Yes, I want to get to know you too.’ He cocks an eyebrow. ‘Better?’

I laugh. ‘Yes, much better.’

◎ ◎ ◎

Since August’s shower provides me with hot water, I might overdo it by standing underneath the warm water for at least half an hour. Yes, I’m that type of guest. I quickly dry my hair, put on some moisturizer and get dressed, before I walk to the living room.

‘Did you clean up in here?’ I ask August, noticing the place is a whole lot cleaner than it was before I took my shower. ‘Are you trying to impress me, August?’

He scoffs, placing his feet on the coffee table. He looks like a mocking kindergartner, it’s  almost endearing.

‘Where is Bobo?’ I ask him, when I sat down next to him and look around.

‘In my bed,’ August answers with a shrug.

That caught me a bit off guard. My cat is in his bed? ‘And you don’t mind?’ I ask. ‘Or are you too afraid to shoo him away?’

He doesn’t want to—I can see it in his eyes—but he smiles. ‘Maybe a bit of both. Besides, he was hissing at me, so I was too afraid to get him off the bed.’

I chuckle. I shiver a bit, as I’m slowly losing the warmth from the shower. August stands up from the couch and wanders through the place. Only to come back with a blanket. He drapes it over me and I’m genuinely surprised. ‘What is this?’ I ask him, though I know exactly what this is.

‘You were cold,’ he says, ‘so I got you a blanket.’

I feel my cheeks heating up. ‘You can be very nice, did you know that?’

August looks at me for a few milliseconds, before he averts his gaze. I realize this may have been too much of a compliment. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘You want to watch some tv?’

‘Sure.’ He grabs the remote and turns on his television.

Was August watching the sports channel?

The only channel that broadcasts the women’s national football league?

‘Did you watch the game last night?’ I ask him.

‘I might’ve,’ he admits, his cheeks a little red. Oh my, my brooding neighbor August Walker is blushing!

‘Next week I have my last game, before the winter break. You want to watch? It’s free and I can arrange a nice spot for you. Special VIP treatment.’

‘Really?’ he asks. ‘Even after I was an absolute asshole to you?’

It’s nice of him to acknowledge that. ‘Even after that.’

‘I would like that.’

Are we having a moment now or is this me hallucinating? August looks into my eyes and doesn’t turn away. His light orbs are obviously hiding so much and it breaks my heart to think he has been through so much. ‘What are you thinking about?’

August shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’

‘Liar.’

He smiles. It makes him look beautiful, approachable and absolutely breathtaking. ‘I was thinking about giving you a compliment about the game last night and whether or not I should add an insult to it.’

I laugh. ‘Well, you can ditch the insult. I’m not sure if I can take it right now.’

‘You are by far the best player on your team,’ he says. ‘Maybe this is an insult to your teammates, but I think you would be the only female player that could actually beat the best male players.’

I bite my bottom lip, as I feel my stomach twists and turns. ‘That’s really sweet,’ I admit. ‘I bet you don’t want me to give you a hug as a thank you, right?’

August leans back in the couch. ‘Why would you want to hug me?’

That’s not a no, which is an improvement. ‘I barely got hugs when I grew up,’ I say. ‘I don’t know if you are aware of my sob worthy backstory. It’s pretty much all over the internet.’

‘I might’ve looked up some bits, he admits in all honesty, which I appreciate. ‘Lots of foster families.’

I nod. ‘I mean, it was mostly me. The families were nice enough, but I was simply afraid, because I knew that there was a chance I would leave again. What if I attached, you know? Saying goodbye would be harder.’

He nods, almost as if he understands.

‘However, my soccer team was pretty much the same team for years. I grew attached to them and hugs were totally normal. It was a way of communicating, really. Since that moment, I appreciate them. It’s a way to let someone know I appreciate them. If that makes sense.’

August nods again. ‘Back when I grew up, I never got hugs.’

For some reason, I see a young and pouty August in front of my eyes. Desperate for some human contact, only to be deprived by it.

‘I just never was in a setting where hugs were acceptable. Not when I was younger, not now.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t apologize for stuff you had nothing to do with,’ he says and he sounds like the same old August I have come to know. He lets out a deep sigh, one that nearly sounds like a growl. ‘You can give me a hug.’

‘That doesn’t sound very sincere.’

‘I am very sincere,’ he says. ‘I mean it.’

This is adorable, I think to myself. ‘Well, you have to know that once I hug you, you are in it for the real deal. I may or may not hug you every chance I see you.’

August laughs. ‘Then I just have to live with that.’

I push the blankets off of me, before I nearly jump him. I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and while he is slightly awkward, he places his hands on my back and actually engages in the hug. ‘You are very huggable,’ I say.

‘You too.’

I pull my face back, so I can look at him. ‘Remember,’ I say, ‘you can put your walls down around me. I would even really like that, to get to know you.’

August moistens his lips, before he whispers: ‘I would like that as well.’

◎ ◎ ◎

After the mechanic fixed my heater and left, August and I ordered pizza. Now, we sit on my couch and watch some YouTube compilation of me playing soccer. That wasn’t even my idea.

It was August’s idea.

Ever since our hug, I notice he is trying his best to be nice and to me, that’s what matters the most. While I don’t understand his struggle, I do appreciate the effort.

I just shouldn’t be attracted to someone who hurt me twice within a week of knowing me, but I can’t help but feel a little something deep inside of me, when I look at August sitting this relaxed on my couch.

‘You want my crusts?’ I ask him, holding out my plate to him.

‘Of course.’

I can’t help but scoot a little closer to him, so I can hand him the plate a bit better. Maybe it’s because I’m touch starved, maybe it’s because I never had this much male attention (insults or not) before. It’s just really nice being around a man, especially August. I didn’t want to admit it, but I enjoyed every moment of him being overprotective of me in the stadium and how he wiped my hands clean in the restaurant.

That never happened to me before.

‘You want my last piece?’ August asks me, holding up his slice.

‘Are you sure?’ I ask, already taking it out of his hands.

‘Postive.’

Before I take a bite, I say: ‘You can have this crust again, though.’

He smiles. ‘I was hoping for it.’

We eat in silence, staring at the television, but I’m not even paying attention. My mind is full of thoughts about August and the questions I want to ask later on when we get to know one another better. ‘Here is my crust,’ I say.

‘You know, Mia, you eat shockingly fast.’

I scoff. ‘I do not.’

‘You totally do,’ he argues. ‘And you are also the world’s messiest eater. I don’t know how you do it, but you got sauce on your forehead.’ He leans over to my coffee table and grabs some napkins. ‘Sit still, will you.’

‘I am sitting still!’

‘You’re not. You are fidgety.’

I roll my eyes. ‘First I’m a fast eater, then a messy one and I don’t sit still. I was about to offer you some dessert, but now I’m not so sure, since you are being so damn mean to me right now.’

‘I’m not mean to you,’ he says, his voice all of the sudden a lot lower. He places his hand in the back of my neck, before gently cleaning the corners of my mouth and my forehead, letting out a tsk in a process. August is so close right now, I’m nearly going cross eyed. His rough thumb slowly caresses the delicate skin in my neck. I can feel his warm breath against my lips.

‘You want dessert?’ I ask him after I cleared my throat. ‘I have some chocolate pudding. We could eat that.’

August nods. ‘Yeah, I would like that,’ he says, letting me go. ‘Let me help you.’ He stands up as well, holding the plates in his hands. Together we walk to my kitchen and I start preparing the pudding for the both of us.

However, I still feel his hand in my neck. Back when I was in high school in the Netherlands, I was never really in favor of the boys. Besides, I moved a lot and I was pretty  much invisible. There was this one time, where it took the teacher almost three weeks to notice me.

Being touched like that, it is a rarity in my dating history. Sure, I’ve had a few kisses, but other than that, I never engaged in anything. Now I’m twenty five and I want it.

So badly.

I look up, only to discover August was already looking at me. ‘What?’ I ask him.

He shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’

We eat the pudding in silence and when it is eight ‘o clock, he decides to leave. We may barely spoken to one another and when we did, it was pretty shallow, really. But I do feel like I got to know August better and he is willing to open himself up to me.

I walk him to the door and I say: ‘Are you willing to hug me goodbye?’

‘I’ll probably see you tomorrow, Mia,’ he says. ‘It’s not like I’m leaving anytime soon.’ Then he seems to realize what he is missing out on. While he rolls his eyes, I spot a grin on his face and he spreads his arms. ‘Come here.’

I let out an excited squeal and I jump up, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. He laughs and wraps one arm around my waist, holding me against him.

‘You happy now?’ he asks.

I pull back my face. ‘Delighted, August Walker.’

He places me back on the ground. ‘See you tomorrow?’

‘You bet. Now you’ve hugged me. let me in your place and allowed Bobo in your bed, I think I’m gonna be over all the time.’

◎ ◎ ◎

The entire Monday morning I spend baking. I want to thank August for yesterday and I figured to see if the saying “nothing says loving like something from the oven” is true. I think it might be. I know I always appreciated when mister Toriello made me a pie.

I walk out of my apartment to knock on his door, only to discover his door is slightly ajar. I push it open and peek inside. ‘August?’ I ask with the steaming pie still in my hands. I walk inside, but he isn’t here. Maybe he is out and didn’t close the door right, however that seems so out of character. Leaving his door open like that… That’s weird.

I place the pie on his kitchen island and find a piece of paper to write something on it.

I place the note next to plate and I want to leave the apartment, but my eyes fall on something. It’s one of those yellowish files, you see in programs like NCIS. I know you shouldn’t peek in other peoples stuff and usually I don’t do such thing.

However I can’t help it right now, as the file is like a magnet that pulls me in.

I pull out the file and it confirms my suspicions. That was my name indeed I saw from afar  and this file has my DMV photo attached to it with a paperclip.

Why does August have this? I mean, I don’t even know what he does for a living, but why would he have this? What kind of job would require all this information about me?

Oh my, is he a stalker? I know that’s not a profession, but still…

I open the file and see an entire timeline of my life. The car accident, transcripts of my interviews with specialists, my football career. He is even up to date on my Instagram account… I even see he figured out the name of the man who was gawking at me during the game.

What is this?

‘What are you doing here?’ I hear August’s voice behind me. I look over my shoulder and see him standing in the doorway. He looks tired and a bit sweaty. What has he been doing? ‘What do you have there?’

I turn around, as I hold up the yellow folder. ‘Is there a specific reason you have my entire life compiled in one file?’

[realcube]

BNHA shopping headcanons pt.2

part 1 here! (momo x reader, todoroki x reader, iida x reader)

Uraraka x Reader

Bakugo x Reader

Kaminari x Reader

tw// cussing, irresponsible moeny-spending 😳

Ochako Uraraka

if you have ever watched mha you should know that Uraraka is  canonically dirt poor

well maybe not dirt poor as from what i know, she isn’t homeless but..

it’d be a fair assumption that she is an extreme cheapskate

she really is that bitch at the cinema who deadass walks in lookin built like manatee from the neck down but her skinny face really doesn’t sell the act

and she smells like off-brand skittles and soda from a mile away but box office clerk pretends not to see shit because they are too underpaid to deal with an determined, skint bubble girl first thing in the morning

oh and did i mention she exclusively takes you to early bird specials for the huge discount

so, needless to say, when you want Uraraka to come see a movie with you in the afternoon, you have to pay for her ticket

now, with that in mind, why would she ever want to go shopping as a date? shopping!

the whole premise of ‘shopping’ is spending money - something she is very much against

so, obviously you thought it was a prank when she texted you to ask you on a date to the local mall

none the less, on the day you showed up - with a pocket knife in your purse, just in case - and to your pleasant surprise, Ochako was standing there outside your favourite jewellery shop with a cheesy grin on her face

“(Y/N)!” She called out, skipping up to you and throwing herself into your arms. “Guess what?!”

You giggled, delighted to see her so happy but confused as to why - as usually she gets upset when she is surrounded by so many expensive things. “What, bubbles?”

She pulled out from the hug to reach into her pocket, grab her hand-me-down wallet from her dad and unzip it to show you the many notes she had cramped inside there. “Look! Remember when I told you I couldn’t come on dates on weekends with you anymore because workloads at the UA were increasing? Well, truth is, I couldn’t see you because I’ve been holding down a secret job at a dessert place for the last few months - and look! I’m rich!”

You felt your cheeks heat up and your eyes become glossy for some reason, it just made you emotional seeing Uraraka so happy and excited, despite the fact you noticed that the money in the purse was definitely no more than ¥5500/£40/$53 - so either she had already started spending or she had been severely underpaid for 4 months of work.

“Ochako..” You croaked, sticking out your bottom lip and doing nothing to resist the tears that came rushing down your cheeks. “I’m so proud of you.”

Uraraka shook her head rapidly, “No!” She whined, shielding her eyes with her wallet, “Please don’t cry, (Y/N)! Then I’ll start crying too!”

You nodded, wiping away your tears with your thumb, “Okay, bubbles.” You mumbled, feeling the spark of emotion inside you die down, “So, where shall we go first?”

“Um..” Uraraka hummed in thought before pointing to your favourite jewellery shop which stood behind her, “There! I’m gonna buy you a necklace; to make up for last year when you got a me a really pretty bracelet for valentines’ day and all I could afford to get you was a candy necklace.” She mumbled the last part before taking your hand and dragging you into the shop.

She didn’t even spare a second so you weren’t able to explain to her how you actually really liked the candy necklace - it was delicious! 

Also, while she shifted through all the pretty necklaces looking for one that would ‘compliment your gorgeous eyes’, you realised something - she definitely wasn’t built to be poor.

I mean, yeah, she is very stingy when it comes to shopping for herself

but when it came to buying you a necklace, she was ready to take a mortgage if it meant you’d be satisfied with your gift

or maybe you could call that reckless spending-]

Katsuki Bakugo

when y’all go on dates it’s usually to one of your houses or maybe an abandoned park or something

but because you said you had a way better aim than him - he challenged you to a game of laser tag! and since it was just you and him, he said you could consider it a date

however, when you both arrived at the laser tag arena, it was closed 

neither of y’all checked the opening times on the website so how were you supposed to know that it was closed on Mondays?

after a long while of bickering between the two of you, y’all just decided to spend the rest of the day at the mall next door

and when i tell you bakugo should be on bargain fkn hunters

he is also very clueless when it comes to giving gifts so he takes this as an opportunity to figure out what you want for your birthday/valentine’s time

you show him a crop top you think is cute and he is like ‘i literally do not give a fuck’

he says he is just following you around the shop bc he doesn’t want you to get kidnapped 

but in reality, you see him out of the corner of your eye typing in his notes app ‘black crop top’ as soon as you turn away to hang it back up on the rack

he refuses to shop for himself because ‘all the shit in these shops are ugly and overpriced’ 

as if that is a good enough excuse to hide the real reason why he won’t look for clothes in these shops; which is that he exclusively shops in Hot Topic and ASOS

he gets butterflies whenever you show him any article of clothing and say it’d look good on him, despite the fact his response it usually something along the lines of 

‘fuck off, that shirt is so ugly! why would i want to wear that?!’ or

‘of course i’d look hot in that - its a fucking tank top! don’t be stupid, (Y/N).’

and mentally he does the same for you whenever he sees a cute shirt or a cool pair of shoes but he stays silent, wanting to keep up his ‘i don’t give a fuck’ façade.

in fact, the whole time y’all were shopping the only thing he recommended to you was a revealing piece of lingerie that a mannequin was displaying in the window of a Victoria’s Secret 

“hey, that’d look good on you, (Y/N)!” he chuckled, pointing at the set from across the hall

you rolled your eyes, punching his shoulder without missing a beat, “Of course i’d look good in that - it’s fucking lingerie! don’t be stupid, bakugo.”

“HEY YOU CAN’T USE MY OWN LINE AGAINST ME!”

Denki Kaminari 

y’all hang out at the mall quite a lot but mostly for the food court

by now y’all have probably eaten at every single chain in that bitch at least twice so obviously you go there quite a lot

after you eat, y’all stroll through the mall window-shopping since you probably spend all your money on food 

however, after Kaminari’s birthday he was pretty loaded so he was finally able to walk around the mall and actually buy something other than food! crazy, i know. 

you both were so hyped to buy shit - you forgot how to act

anyway, kaminari hadn’t decided what he was going to spend his ¥7000/£50/$66 on

‘clothes?’ you suggested

‘what’s wrong with my clothes?’ he replied defensively.

‘body spray?’

‘are you saying i stink?’

‘hair product?’

‘i have more than enough, heh.’

‘phone case?’

‘i have one..’

‘toiletries?’

‘that’s a funny word-WAIT!’ he yelled, shock running through his body as the ‘best idea of all ideas’ dawned on him. ‘wait here, (Y/N). I’ll be right back.’ 

with that Denki ran off, leaving you outside Sephora with no money 

It took him a while to come back but once he did, a foolishly wide grin painted his features, “(Y/N)! Look!” He yelled, motioning to his huge white bag.

He opened it to show you what was inside, “A yellow blanket?” You asked, cocking your head to the side.

“Yes! It’s 5x5 feet because you said the blanket home that we cuddle in is too small.” 

You blushed, rubbing the back of your neck, feeling kind of bad that Denki spent him birthday money to make you happy. “Oh, well, I didn’t mean that-” 

“And feel it! It’s so fluffy and soft!” 

You nodded, reaching down and stroking the blanket, “Oh my-” 

“It feels like heaven!” he finished your sentence

[lykegenia]

Trust, But Verify

Convinced that Unit Bravo isn't everything they seem to be, Detective Leah Kingston decides to return to the warehouse that she knows plays some part in the mystery of Wayhaven's first murder in years, this time with Tina as backup. But sometimes, what is said on patrol doesn't stay on patrol, which isn't great when the subject of conversation is a certain new arrival with a dazzling smile and warm brown eyes.

Read on AO3

--

The air in the office holds a studied silence, from the members of Unit Bravo who have arranged themselves around the room like they’re on a photoshoot, and from me ignoring them so I can finish updating the board with information about the case. There’s precious little to go on so far. Adam called it a waste of time, but working as a teammeans everybody needs to be on the same page, and now I can feel a certain amount of spite creeping into the thoroughness of my notes.

I can’t afford to let it. Getting bull-headed means things get missed.

“What information can you give me about the other victims?” I ask.

“Nothing that will help us here.”

Nate passes a guilty glance between me and his glowering leader, but all it does is get me even angrier. Folding my arms, I turn to Adam, temper finally frayed enough to let my professional veneer slip.

“Did my mother send you to sabotage my case?” I demand. I shouldn’t, but today has not been a good day.

Adam glares. Somehow, the silence in the room deepens.

“I’m only asking because so far you seem to be trying your hardest to seem incompetent and uncaring about the fact that a woman has been murdered. If you can’t show even basic respect for that then you can get the hell out of my office and not come back.”

“Detective…”

“Are you here to help or not?” I’ve dealt with Saturday night drunks and middle managers angry at getting parking tickets – hell, I’ve had to face the mayor’s bluster more than once – and though Adam looks like he knows more ways to break someone’s bones than any of those guys, I’m willing to bet he’s on a much shorter leash.

Finally, the muscles working in that square jaw unclench just enough for him to loose a strained breath through his teeth. “We’re at your disposal.”

“Glad to hear it.” My shoulders relax a little. “The better we work together, the faster we’ll solve this, and unfortunately all the legwork has to come first.”

Nate steps forward, visibly relieved that we haven’t come to blows. “What do you want us to do?”

“We need to trace the victim’s last steps,” I say. Coming up with a plan gives me something to focus on. “Bank records, phone records, CCTV. If we can find out where and when she met the killer, hopefully we can follow the thread back to them. Someone should ask Verda if there’s any way to track down the equipment the killer needed for the transfusion, too,” I add.

“Anything else?” Mason drawls from his corner. He’s started on another cigarette.

“Nate very kindly said you’d all go and check out the Farris warehouse later. We think it might be the murder site.” I don’t miss the look Adam shoots across the room, but it’s not important. “Be careful when you do, when I was there yesterday I ran into some unsavoury characters.”

“Really?” Felix asks, grinning. “If we see them I’m sure we could take them.”

Nate rolls his eyes and Adam grinds his teeth again, and neither of them are doing anything to soothe the off vibes I’ve been getting all morning.

“Glad to hear it,” I reply, turning to grab my coat off the peg. “While you’re on that, there’s something else I want to chase up.”

“What something else?” Adam asks, his eyes narrowing as if he can hear the uneasy tick of my pulse.

I shrug, already half out the door. “I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

“One of us should go with you.”

“Thanks for the offer, but Tina and I will be fine – Tina! Fieldtrip!”

She looks up from the papers on her desk and gestures to the steaming mug in her hand. “But I just –”

“Now. We can stop off at Haley’s later.”

There’s a pause as she glances behind me, assessing, no doubt lining up a bunch of questions to ask me as soon as we’re out of earshot. “Sure thing, Detective.” She pulls on coat and scarf and sidles closer. “Day one and the power’s already gone to your head, I see.”

I stifle a smile and turn back to Unit Bravo, who are all leaning around the door of my office in various attitudes of surprise. “I almost forgot, while I’m out I’d be grateful if you could add the information on the other victims to the board. It should help.”

“We’ll see to it,” Nate promises when his colleague only flexes his biceps in response.

“I appreciate it.”

I’m almost to the door when I catch Felix sigh and mutter I don’t think she likes us very much, but I straighten my shoulders and step into the already darkening winter day, not allowing the prickle of guilt to take hold. They’re not here for me to like them, they’re here for a job – and I need to figure out what that job really is.

--

Tina shoots me a dubious look as I pull up outside the Farris warehouse and cut the engine. There’s still some light left, though the thick growth of trees crowds most of it out, and aside from a few harsh alarm calls from birds flitting between the trunks, the place is lifeless. Silent. The moon watches us from just above the top branches, hanging in the sky like a spider in the corner of its web.

“You changed your mind about letting Unit Boyband have this one?” she asks.

I reach behind me for my flashlight and check the safety on my gun is locked before kicking open the door. “There’s something not adding up about them, and I want to know what it is. Nate practically contorted himself trying to think of reasons for me to stay away.”

“And so here we are.” She sighs and follows. “Just like the good old days. As your friend, I think you’re being a bit paranoid.”

“Shady government agencies bring that out in me.”

“Just as long as you’re not expecting to split up in there.”

I toss her a grin. “Not even for a Scooby Snack?” I chuckle at her flat look. “Don’t worry, after those guys put that dent in Nessie last night, I’m not taking chances.”

With a wary look around, she unholsters her own gun and takes position on my left. “That dent looks like it was made with a sledgehammer.”

“Yup.”

We fall silent as we cross the threshold, crumbs of rubble cracking under our boots. The wind blows in from behind us, rustling the ivy reclaiming the walls, distorting sound, but unless someone is keeping very still, there’s nobody else here.

“Sooooo… it’s ‘Nate’ is it?” Tina ventures as we climb the stairs to the first floor. The artistic endeavours of Wayhaven’s teenagers scroll the walls, the empty cans and bottles from last summer’s illicit parties still scattered in the far corners.

“That’s what he asked me to call him,” I reply carefully. “It’s what the rest of them call him too.”

“Uh-huh.” She peers down at something. “Cigarette butt.”

“Recent?” I catch a shadow to my left, but when I chase it with my flashlight, it turns out just to be pigeons again, scattering for some reason of their own.

“There’s still ash on it, so I’d say so.”

“Bag it.”

While she kneels and starts the usual procedure for getting evidence into one of the bags we both carry with us, I pace the rest of the floor, peering around rusted heavy machinery and into the dustier corners in case of footprints. With so many people passing through, though, it’s unlikely we’ll find enough to connect anything to the murder – at least not anything that would stick in court.

“You have seen him eyeing you up though, right?”

“What?” I glance over, startled by the suddenness of Tina’s voice. “Who?”

Her tut would have made any disapproving grandma proud. “Nate.”

“Tina, I met him this morning.” One last glance around. “This floor’s clear.”

“So?”

“So when has he even had an opportunity to ‘eye me up’?”

“Oh, that’s right,” she sing-songs, “you were too busy doing your best to make the grumpy one quake in his combat boots, but I see everything. His mouth was hanging open and everything. And that was after your cosy little trip down to the morgue. I’m telling you, babe, you have a shot.”

We go one at a time down the stairs, which means she can’t see me roll my eyes, but as we turn to take our first proper look at the ground floor, the idea wiggles in to distract my better judgement. Nate has certainly made a better first impression than most of his team, but that’s not exactly hard, and his face looks like one that’s used to smiling, to smoothing ruffled feathers. If I maybe noticed the warmth of his hand when I shook it earlier, or caught the faint scent of whatever aftershave he uses when we were walking down to see Verda, then it’s still not something to lose my head over. It’s not something that matters.

“As your friend, I’m duty-bound to say that I think you’re delusional,” I say, deliberately light.

“Over here.”

Tina’s flashlight rounds on the transient’s camp I found yesterday, a loose pile of tattered blankets and a few rusted oil drums converted into fire barrels, only now with more light, there seems to be little evidence of recent occupation. No trash, no scuff marks beyond what could be explained by the passage of my own feet and the strangers who ran into me, and no odour of an unwashed body.

And yet…

Still crouched, I glance at the walls, try to imagine them blurred as I hold up my phone screen with the photos copied from Janet Greenland’s. She had known she was going to die, with enough advance warning to try and leave some kind of message, and then hidden them where her killer would be unlikely to look.

Tina breaks the concentrated silence. “What’s so delusional about someone finding you attractive?” It helps, the distraction from the grisly reason we’re here.

“Nothing in particular,” I reply. “People have wanted to sleep with me before. It’s just not something that would work.”

“Why not?”

I stand and walk slowly, still with my phone up in front of me. “One, this is a temporary assignment. Once we catch the killer, Unit Bravo will be whisked away to somewhere far more exotic than Wayhaven with far more interesting people.” I stop. “Two, he’s technically a colleague, which is never something that ends well. And three…”

The last of Janet Greenland’s photos line up with the view ahead of me, minus the difference in our height.

“Three?” Tina presses.

“I’m not interested.” It’s a ready answer, but she scoffs all the same.

“Oh come on, you mean you don’t think he’s sexy as hell?”

From somewhere behind us, there’s a loud crash as a piece of masonry collapses. We wheel, ready for something to come at us, but after a long moment, nothing else moves. Probably a rat, or a piece of the ceiling that was ready to go anyway. Even so, Tina keeps her back to mine as I return to my snooping.

“That’s not a no,” she wheedles after a few more minutes of silence.

“He’s –” The right description eludes me for a moment. “He’s good-looking. He seems nice, for what it’s worth. But that doesn’t mean he’d stay, and it doesn’t mean he’d be interested in anything… beyond casual. I have more worthwhile uses for my time than trying to guess a stranger’s motives for noticing me.” The bitterness isn’t something I meant to slip out, but thankfully there’s no comment on it. Tina knows enough about the fiasco with Bobby to leave that particular sleeping Rottweiler lie.

Besides, I’ve found where Janet stumbled into the warehouse – or tried to get out. By one of the broken windows some of the stones have tumbled and turned the mossy sides underneath, and a few threads of material are snagged on the jagged edge of the glass that are the same colour as the jacket she was wearing. There’s just enough light left to photograph it, but without any evidence of the killer or any kind of struggle, there isn’t much else to be done. Wayhaven doesn’t have the resources to dust an entire warehouse for prints.

“I remember being told at the academy that we should try to collect all the evidence we can,” Tina says, when I make no move to reach for a bag.

“That’s what I’m doing,” I reply. “Sometimes it doesn’t all look the same, that’s all.”

She eyes me with a frown, though the corner of her mouth is fighting a smile. “What did I tell you? Paranoid.”

--

Sitting in the Facility cafeteria barely a week later, a plate of unappetising mince and mashed potato in front of me, it’s hard to believe how much a life can change. Hunting for petty clues, looking through bank records and phone calls as if any of it would have turned up anything useful – not even the vindication of knowing I was right about my mother’s team does much to lessen the lurch the world has taken since learning that the man I was hunting is not only a vampire, but that he’s hunting me, too. The thought puts me off eating. Or maybe it’s the tests, or just that the food itself isn’t very good.

I’m in the middle of drawing a passable mixed media landscape with my fork when a shadow falls across my plate. Nate smiles at me, genuine if somewhat nervous, one hand holding a mug of tea and the other on the back of the chair opposite mine.

“May I sit?” he asks.

I’ve barely seen him since the first night I was here, between all the debriefings and the sessions with the scientists, and even those brief glimpses have been accidental, moments of stumbling into each other in the corridors of Unit Bravo’s section of the Facility. To have him seek me out, in a place that reeks of leftovers, stirs an unfamiliar flutter behind my ribs that turns into a smile to answer his.

“Please do.” I gesture, and his smile grows wider, and I cast about for something that will avoid me floundering in awkward silence. “I didn’t think I’d see you here – not because you don’t need to eat!” I add hastily. “The smell of stale coffee is almost too much for me with just human senses.”

He doesn’t seem too offended, and just shrugs. “I like the ambience. People here are just being people, no matter what species.” As he speaks his eyes cast over the nearly empty room, and the pockets of agents and supernaturals at other tables buried in conversation. A person could visit a thousand parallel universes and a cafeteria would look the same in every one.

“The more things change…” I mutter, following the line of his gaze.

A smile touches his lips. “You have no idea.”

I really don’t. Not compared with someone who’s lived so long and seen so much. In the pause that follows, I turn my attention back to my plate, and the interrupted tree I was trying to capture in the foreground with an overcooked slice of carrot.

“You’re quite the artist – I mean it!” he adds, holding up his hands at the sharp glance I throw his way.

“This is the part where you say you met some famous painter or other, isn’t it?” I grumble, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Van Gogh did sell me a painting once – not one of his own, I’m afraid.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say the statement was meant to impress me, and that the sip he takes of his tea is more to hide a smirk than because he’s thirsty. Still, his eyes grow serious as he taps the mug back on the table, and the measured way he looks me over makes me want to twist my fingers in my lap.

“What?”

“You seem to be handling the revelation of all this rather well,” he replies, muted, with a flicker of a softer smile. “We should have trusted you with it sooner.”

For a moment I don’t answer, both startled by the admission and caught up in an echo of the resentment that’s characterised so much of my time with Unit Bravo so far. It’s not a comfortable feeling, not now I know the reason behind the secrecy, but the morning after my second visit to the warehouse is still fresh in my mind, Adam’s flat ‘no’ when I asked if they’d found anything, and the way Nate glared at the floor, arms folded and shaking his head in tacit disagreement as the others waited for my reaction, as if they knew I wouldn’t believe them.

“I’ll admit, ‘new co-workers are secretly vampires hunting down a vampire serial killer who’s picked me as his next target’ wouldn’t have been my first guess for what was going on,” I try with a shrug. “I assume it’s not something everyone responds well to.”

“Most people who find out don’t have to deal with the serial killer part.”

Sometimes, in the face of such absurdity, you just have to laugh. Nate seems pleased that I haven’t run screaming, amusement warming the sympathetic way his gaze lingers.

“Actually, I wanted to thank you,” I say, after another moment of silence.

“For what?”

I shrug. “For wanting to tell me – trying to tell me, even though you had orders. Not everyone would do that.” My mother springs to mind as a prime example.

“It was clear you were going to find out anyway. You’re pretty incredible that way.” His gaze on mine is heavy, soft and intense but tinged with regret as well, and he looks away. “But after you went to the warehouse, it was also clear you didn’t trust us. It’s not a great combination for trying to keep someone safe.”

“How did you know I was at the warehouse?”

“I, uh…” He clears his throat, not meeting my eye. “I followed you. One of us had to, just in case Murphy came back.”

He seems… embarrassed more than anything, as if following me was somehow something more shameful than lying to my face, and it’s not what I expect. And then I remember my conversation with Tina while we hunted through the ruined building. Damn. My fork sets against the edge of my plate with a faint clink.

“You were in the warehouse – when I was in the warehouse,” I check, just in case there’s no real reason for the sudden flood of heat into my face.

“I was.”

“And you heard everything me and Tina were saying with your hypersenses, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t exactly need –” He stops, smiles an apology. “Yes, I heard everything.”

I roll my lips together, chasing something to say. My fingertips drum on the table. “There’s no chance you could just… forget all of that, is there?”

And now the smile curls into something smoother, sleek like a cat. And guess who’s the canary.

“I would rather not.” He purrs it, and my insides squirm. “But since we’re on the subject of… things you said, I feel the same way. About matters of the heart. They’re too precious to be treated casually.”

I stare. There’s more in the words than I really want to acknowledge, certainly more than I can respond to in the middle of a public place full of creatures I thought were myths for most of my life. His brown eyes search my face, patient, until I can’t stand it anymore and drop my gaze to the table, and he covers by taking another sip of his tea.

“That’s an elegant way to put it,” I manage, after what feels like an eternity. He’ll still be leaving once we’ve caught Murphy, and now that we’ve got a solid set of leads on him, that won’t be long at all.

“I hoped you would think so.”

“It must be hard to have any kind of relationship with… all of this.” I wave my hand around the room. “The secrecy and the travelling, I mean.”

His head tilts, the smile returns. “You don’t think it’s the vampire thing that would put people off?”

“No.” I don’t miss the way his mouth twitches upwards at that. “Vampires have become fashionable in the last few years, so I hear. Even if you don’t sparkle.”

“I’d hope my wit does, at least.”

I can’t help it, I break into a laugh at that. It’s so easy to feel comfortable around him, to want to be closer and spend hours just talking. When I knew he was lying, it was an easier feeling to ignore.

“You could always find another vampire,” I point out. “That would solve it if you thought it was a problem.”

It confuses him. His brows furrow as if it was something he hadn’t considered, as if the conversation has taken a turn he didn’t expect, and I use the distraction to look at the clock, high on the wall where clocks always are in cafeterias.

“I need to go. It’s stab-Leah-with-needles o’clock.”

“So soon?” he asks.

It’s not entirely untrue, but I’ll have to walk slowly not to be early, because god forbid they think I’m eager for more tests. My heart skips a little, and he can probably tell, but this whole conversation has veered far too close to gates I locked a long time ago, and do not want open again. I shrug.

“The sooner I get through everything they can think up, the sooner I can go back to catching Murphy.”

“The sooner this whole case is finished.” He watches me, the unspoken half of the sentence left hanging.

“The sooner Wayhaven is safe again.”

In the end, that’s what matters. I can’t lose sight of it.

[janicho88]

Come Back

Paring- Dean x Reader

Summary- You push Dean away when a monster attacks, and end up with a small injury instead of him.  How does Dean repay you? By telling you to get out.  Where will you go, what are you going to do now?  Will you find your way back, or does fate have other plans? 

Warnings-Lot of angst, Little, I mean little fluff in this one. Language, just a few words.  Angry Dean, upset reader,  Major character injury and hospitalization, possible brain injury.

A/N This story decided to take its own course.  It was only going to have a smidge of angst, and well this happened.  I’m sorry. There will be a part 2. 

It had been a rough hunt, you all thought you were on a salt and burn for a vengeful spirit terrorizing a retreat. Turns out it was a couple of werewolves changing their tactics, picking off the participants.  One of the werewolves took you all by surprise when it snuck up behind Dean and grabbed for him. You quickly pushed him out of the way as the werewolves claws came down, tearing through your side.  The boys quickly fired off shots taking out that one. Turning they quickly got its friend who came at you next

Dean never spoke to you as you all cleaned up the mess and left.  Sam had helped you quickly with your cuts and you headed back to the bunker. Exiting Baby, and walking inside you barely made it into the War room before Dean started yelling at you.  He told you how reckless you were, how you were going to get them hurt, and you were in the way.  They would be better off if you weren’t hunting, or around anymore. When you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore you responded with a ‘fine’ and headed to your room.  You collapsed crying on your bed, you just hadn’t wanted Dean to get hurt.

It was well past midnight when you had calmed down, you began gathering your belongings in your duffel bags.  If they boys didn’t want you here, you would leave.  You left a note for Sam that just said, Be safe.  Heading to your car, you tossed your things in and took off for Jody’s.

A week later Jody had heard the boys were on a case nearby.  You didn’t want to chance running into them so you left quickly to take a hunt in Washington. That had been the last time you talked with Jody.  You didn’t want to risk talking to the guys friends, and making Dean even madder at you.  Since you left neither of them had tried to contacted you. 

You were on your own taking hunt after hunt, to the point you didn’t care if you made it.  You had been friends with the guys since you were kids, had moved into the bunker two years ago, and been fighting your feelings for Dean for years.  It had been just over two months since you left, that was the longest you had ever gone without talking to one of them, it definitely hit you hard.

You were in Minnesota, and had to break down and ask Donna for help with a Vamp’s nest.  Donna hadn’t seen you in a while and when you got out of your car at the motel, she had to hide her shock. There were dark circles under your eyes, it looked like you hadn’t been sleeping much if at all,  and you definitely had lost weight.

“Hey lady, how are you doin?” she asked.

“Fine, Donna.  Thanks for the backup on this.  How have you been?”

“You Betcha! Good, all good. Saw Jody and the girls last week.”

“How are they?”

“They’re all good.  So um have you talked to the guys..”

“Don’t go there Donna,” you interrupted.

You two went to the office and got a room to share. You had a little bit of work to do on the case before you could hit the nest.  After splitting up and gathering information from police and victims you met back at the hotel.  Putting everything you had together you were ready for the next day, and Donna went to sleep.  While she was out, you sharpened your machete, and looked over your plan again before crashing for a few hours.

The next morning went well in regards to you both making it out alive, uninjured was another story. You only made it out because Donna had quick reflexes.  After beheading 5 vamps you were slowing and missed one behind you.  Donna turned just in time to take it down.  Neither of you had any serious injuries, a few bumps, bruises, and you had minor cuts where one of the vamps had gotten a hold of you and bitten.

 Cleaning up back at the hotel Donna got on you about taking better care of yourself.  You told her you were fine and walked into the bathroom shutting the door.  Donna was asleep when you came out after your shower.  You wrote her a note thanking her for her help and telling her you were sorry, but had to get on the road.  You walked out and hit the road alone again. 

It was a few weeks later when you got a call from Jody.  Alex’s birthday was coming up and they were going to have a party at Donna’s cabin.  She really wanted you to join them.  You told her you would try, but were unable to make any promises. You weren’t going to bring them up but had a feeling the guys would be there, and you weren’t sure if you were up to seeing them.  Sam had texted you a few times, but you hadn’t responded.  Dean never tried to get a hold of you.

Day of the party you pulled up to the old cabin, sure enough, Baby, was parked amongst the other cars.  You sat staring at the cars debating what to do.  Go in for Alex, or let the fear of running into Dean keep you away.  A tapping at your window had you jumping in your seat  Turning your head you saw Sam standing outside your car.  Opening your door you exited the car.

“Hey, I wasn’t sure if I should come out or not. After a half hour passed without you getting out I figured I would come see you before you just drove off again.”

He gave you a hug and you said “Hi, Sam.”

“That’s all I get, hi?  You have been gone four months without a word.  How are you, where have you been?”

“I’m fine, been here and there.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“What do you want me to say, Sam?  I was told to leave, that you both would be better off!” 

“You know how Dean gets after one of us gets hurt, especially if it is to  save him.  He was worried, yes, he took it out all wrong.  He misses you, we both do.”

“I highly doubt that,” you respond walking past Sam toward the cabin.

Entering the house Jody and Charlie were the first people you ran into. The fiery red head quickly wrapped you in a big hug, Jody quickly following.  You spoke with both of them for a few minutes, catching up on what you missed over the last few months before moving further into the cabin.  You were searching out the birthday girl when you headed toward the kitchen.  As you rounded the corner you saw Dean in there and quickly turned the other way.  Back already turned, you missed the way Dean’s head shot up with a hopeful look that fell swiftly when he saw you were retreating from him.  

Walking back into the living room you saw Donna talking with Alex and Claire and joined that group.  Donna and Alex both giving you a hug, while Claire gave you a “what’s up runner?”.

Claire had been talking about a hunt she went on with Jody, while Alex filled you all in on her classes and work.  When Donna went to check on Dean who was in charge of the grill, and Claire was occupied by Castiel, Alex asked if you wanted to join her out front.

“What’s wrong birthday girl?”

“I just needed some air, too many people in there for me.”

“Well it is a party, you know, for you.”

“It’s a party I didn’t want.  Love you all, but I’m not the big party type.  You are the reason for the party, my birthday is the excuse to get you here.”

“What are you talking about Alex?”

“We all know what’s going on with you, you are avoiding everyone.  So we came up with a reason to get you to come around.  Jody bought me concert tickets to agree.”

“I’m fine, there was no need to do this.”

“Yes, there was.  We are all worried about you, Dean especially.  He’s constantly talking to Jody and Donna about you, a get together was his idea.  We just added the why.

“Dean made it clear, he doesn’t want me around.  The man never even tried to contact me, and you and Sam want me to think he cares about how I’m doing.”

“He really does.”

“I can’t do this,”  You turned and walked back in the cabin to grab your coat and keys, it was time to go.

Donna and Sam were standing near your coat when you went to grab it.

“Hey where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Time for me to go.”

“You barely got here, it’s Alex’s birthday, stay awhile.”

“Right it’s her party you apparently threw because of me, I need to go, don’t worry about me anymore.”

Dean saw you grabbing your things and heading outside.  “Y/N, Y/N wait please!”

“I don’t want to talk to you, why should I Dean?”

“I need to talk to you please, stop!”

You stopped walking, but didn’t turn around.  “Why know, after four months, why do you suddenly care about talking to me?”

“I have always cared about you, I didn’t think you would have left or ignored us for the last four months, I never thought you would have been hunting on your own.”

“You told me you were better off without me!  Did you really expect me to stick around?”

“I was an idiot, I figured you would have ignored me for the night, maybe the next day.  When Sam said you were gone I called Donna and Jody, and Jody said you were at her house.  I thought you would stay there for a few days, then come home.  We took a hunt close by, I was going to come get you and apologize, but you were gone.  You’ve been running nonstop, you need a break! You and I both know you shouldn’t be hunting alone.”

You just stood there with you back to Dean, not answering him.

“Forgive me, don’t forgive, hell don’t even talk to me anymore!  I don’t care as long as you come back, and I know you're safe and not hunting alone. Please Y/N!”  You turned around when you heard the break in Dean’s voice, and there were tears on his face to match.

“Please, don't run again, let’s go back inside.  When we leave tonight, I wish you would come back to the bunker.  If you can’t do that at least go to Jody or Donna’s, don’t go back on your own.  I need to know your safe,” he begged.

“Why do you care about where I am now? You said it yourself, I’ve been gone four months, if you really wanted to know where I was or talked to me you could have tried calling.”

“Sam called you, you never answered.”

“Right, Sam did.  But never you, you didn’t care where I was!”

“NO! I was worried sick about you! If you’re not going to answer Sam, why in the hell would you answer ME? I called other hunters and asked if they saw you to let me know without telling you.  I went after you so many times, but by the time I got the call and got there you were gone.  That Vamp’s case you took with Donna?  I woke her up at 2 am pounding on the door, but you had already left.”

“You wanted me to leave, and I didn’t want to stick around your friends get yelled at from you again.  I don’t want to put them in any more danger by being around me like you said.” 

“I was mad that night because you got hurt.  You got hurt trying to save me.  I would rather a monster went after me than you any day.  It would kill me if I lost you.  These last four months have been worse than my four months in hell, but at least I knew you were alive.”

Stepping closer to him you asked, “Dean, why do you care so much about what happens to me, Sam I get, he’s your brother.  Me, I’m just your friend.”

“You used to be me best friend, then I did something stupid.  I fell in love with you.  I couldn’t do that to you though.  You deserve better, and if I ever did anything about those feelings you would have a big target on yourself.  Not to mention I couldn’t lose my best friend, when she didn’t feel the same.  So I did what I needed to keep you safe, I tried to push you away.  This last time I pushed you too far, I never wanted to push you out of the bunker.  I hated hurting you, but I just couldn’t let you get close.  Then I lost you anyway.”  Tears were falling from both of your faces now.

You walked closer to Dean, putting your hand up to stop him from talking, “Can we go back to the part where you said you fell in love with me?  Do you still feel that way?”

Instead of answering you Dean moved your hand and crashed his lips into yours.  Neither of you pulling away until you needed air.  “Does that answer your question?  Does that mean I’m not the only one who feels this way ”

“Yes to both.  But it also doesn’t mean you're off the hook Winchester.  When I leave here, I’ll do what you asked, and not go off on my own.  I will go back to Jody’s.”  Dean’s face fell at that.  “I won’t shut you out this time.  I think we have some talking to do before I come back to the bunker.”

“You’ll come back?”

“Eventually, I think so.  I’m not going to promise you something I don’t know if I can keep.”

“Why don’t you just come back now?”

“I know you, you know you, I come back now and we don’t settle anything.  We get back to the bunker and we end up falling in bed. You hurt me Dean, and I’m not over that yet.  I need some time to process all this, we need to work through this before jumping in.”

The two of you headed back inside to join the others.  Sam came up when Dean went back to check the grill he abandoned.

“Does this mean you are coming home with us?” Sam asked with a smile.

“No.”

“Wait, what?  I saw you two outside.  It looked like everything was good between you?”

“Okay, one, you really need to work on this peeping Tom thing you have going on.  Second time today you’ve watched me through a window buddy.  Two, things are better.  I’m not ready to come back yet.  He hurt me, and I need to work over everything he said to me today.  When we leave I’m going to go stay with Jody.”

“Please don’t shut us out this time.”

“I won’t, your brother and I have a few things to talk about.”

After the party you headed for Jody’s.  Claire rode with you, while Alex was with Jody.  

“You know he is crazy about you right?  He was driving everyone crazy when you went off on your own.”

“What?” You had been lost in your thoughts and missed what Claire had said.  

“Dean, he went nuts when you left.  I know you two talked, Sam said you were making out.  So why are you coming home with us?”

“I need a little more time Claire.”  The rest of the ride was silent except for the radio.  

               Gif by soluscheese

You had spent almost two weeks at Jody’s. Dean had called you every day to talk, the two of you talking about the day, hunts the guys took, one you went on with Claire, much to Dean’s dismay.  You had talked a few times about the fact Dean really didn’t want you hunting, but that was only because he was worried you would get hurt.  Almost every call ended with him apologizing for what he did, and telling you he hoped you would come back soon.  A few days after you arrived a bouquet of flowers was delivered, white and pink roses with carnations of the same color.  All your favorites.  The card said, ‘I can’t wait for you to come back home. Love Dean.’  

Jody had sat you down to talk about the whole situation with you.  You admitted you had forgiven Dean for what he said, and you understood why.  You were afraid to go back to the bunker, you just didn’t know why.  Talking over everything with Jody helped you see, you were scared to go back knowing how Dean felt about you.  Up until this fight Dean had been the one constant in your life, well except for his time in hell, and purgatory.  You knew how you felt about him, but worried that his feelings weren’t going to last.  Then what were you going to do?  Have to leave the bunker and lose your best friends again? You really did love Dean, and you owed it to him and you to give this a chance.

You had been putting your things back in your duffle bag at the end of the second week, it was time to go home.  Your phone rang, but this time it wasn’t Dean on the other end, it was Sam.  

“Y/N, Dean’s in the hospital and I can’t reach Cas.” was all you heard before dropping to the floor, Jody took the phone and Sam filled her in.

 Dean had been hurt on their last case.  They thought there were four demons, they had those taken care of and cleaned up.  They were back at the motel when one smoked into the little cleaning lady and grabbed Dean.  Sam had gone out to grab dinner and came back to a trashed hotel room and Dean gone. Luckily his phone was in his pocket and he could trace it.  By the time he found him the Demon had beat him up pretty bad.  He had multiple cuts, and bruises, they were worried about internal injuries and were running tests now. 

The hunt was in Nebraska, just a few hours south of where you were, you grabbed the bag you had been packing and ran out to your car.  Jody wasn’t even out of the house before you pulled out of the driveway.

You made the drive much quicker than usual, a call to Sam gave you the floor and the room number Dean had just been transferred to.  When you arrived up there Sam met you in the hall Dean was on the ICU floor so only family was allowed in the room.  Sam had told the nurses you were his wife so you would be able to enter. 

Walking up to his bedside you could feel the tears sliding down your face again.  Talking to Jody yesterday you were so worried about what would happen if a relationship didn’t work and you lost your best friend.  You should have been thinking more of what you guys do, and how that could take Dean from you any day.  You had been in love with Dean for years and wanted this more than anything, why had you fought it.  Now you might never get that chance.  Sitting down in the chair beside the bed you grabbed one of Dean’s hands with one of yours and the other ran through his hair.  Leaning up slightly you placed a kiss on his cheek, careful to avoid the tube running out of his mouth. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t come home with you when we left Donna’s.  I was fighting us, and I never should have done that.  You are it for me Dean Winchester, I just need you to wake up now.  Please Baby, can you wake up for me?”

The only response you got was the steady beat of his heart on the hospital machines.  Sam came in and sat in the chair on the other side of the bed, both of you waiting for any sign of Dean waking up. Sam told you Dean had gone into surgery before you got here.  They had found some internal bleeding which needed to be repaired, he had lost a fair amount of blood and also needed a blood transfusion, it didn’t appear any organs were damaged.

 A neurologist came to talk to you a few hours later.  Both the MRI and CT scan of Dean’s head showed slight swelling around the brain.  This could just be bruising and go down before Dean wakes up, from a concussion, or something more.  They would be keeping an eye on him, but until he woke up there was no telling how bad it was.   

Both you and Sam spent the night in the hospital, with no changes appearing in Dean.  A nurse and doctor came to check him over and asked the two of you to step out for a few minutes.  Sam convinced you to go to the cafeteria to at least get a coffee or something.  Walking back to Dean’s room with Sam’s coffee and your hot chocolate, you saw the doctor leaving the room.  When he looked up and saw you he came over to talk to both.  

“His vitals are getting stronger, still weak but better than yesterday.  We don’t want to take him for another CT scan right now, so I can’t tell you if the swelling has gone down.

“When will he wake up?” you asked.

“That’s hard to say.  If he keeps fighting it could be a few days, although if he takes a turn there is a chance he may not wake up.”

Sam had to grab you with his free hand to keep you from falling when your knees buckled. Dean, might not wake up.  That couldn’t happen, he had to come back to you.  The two of you headed back into the room to sit and wait.  Going back to your chair you grabbed Dean’s hand in yours once again, and pleading with him to please wake up.  It had fallen to Sam to keep Jody, Donna, Charlie, and Garth appraised of Dean’s condition.  They would have been there in a heartbeat to see him, but wouldn’t have been allowed into his room.  You couldn’t bring yourself to talk to anyone.  Although you kept praying to Cas, who had yet to appear. 

The fourth day sitting in the hospital you caught Sam watching you.

“Yes?”

“I’m just wondering what you are going to do when Dean wakes up?”

“What do you mean?’

“Are you going to run again?  I don’t know if Dean could handle that.”

“No, I was actually packing my bag to come back when you called me.  He’s it for me Sam, I can’t lose him.” you tell him with tears in your eyes once again.

Two days later your head was laying on the bed, with your hand holding Dean’s when you felt movement.  You jerked up so fast Sam jumped at your reaction.  Looking down at Dean’s hand his fingers were starting to move.  

“Dean? Baby can you hear me?”

“Dean, it's Sam and Y/N, can you hear us?” Sam ran to the hall to get a nurse or doctor.

“Please, please wake up Dean.  Come back to me.”

Sam came back in the room followed by a doctor and nurses, who pushed you back from Dean.  He was slowly becoming more coherent, when he started fighting the tube in his throat they pulled it out.  Sam and you were in the corner watching, hoping this was it, Dean was finally coming back to you.  They checked his vitals, everything looked good.  Someone went to get him ice chips another got him readjusted.  Since he was awake they were moving him to a room soon, and the neurologist would be in to check on him.  Dean had yet to say anything but you all figured it was because his throat was so dry from days without drinking.  You took the ice chips from the nurse so you could give them to Dean.

Watching the last of the medical staff clear out you gave Dean an ice chip and turned to him with a smile.

“I am so so happy to see you’re awake and okay! I was so afraid I had lost you,” you tell him as you lean down to kiss him.

“I’m glad you're excited to see me Darlin.  Um..  Who are you exactly?”

Part 2

Tags- @talesmaniac89 @malfoysqueen14​  @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @emoryhemsworth​  @superfanficnatural​ @flamencodiva​ @winchest09​ @deanwanddamons​ @katehuntington​ @anathewierdo​

[debbiechanclub]

Best Two Out of Three, Part 21

Y’all.

That’s it. That’s the preface.

(Oh, also @what-does-mine-say is responsible for soft Matt in this so don’t look at me, I swear to baby Jesus.)

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 21/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x Cash Wheeler and Adam Page x OFC x Matt Jackson

Word count: 7.6k

Warnings: Language; angst to the nth degree.

Tag squad: @freshlysqueezedmox @gabbynorth98 @librathepheonix13 @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @exe-sadboi-exe

Catch up on previous parts here.

Callie only stayed one extra night at the hotel in Jacksonville. She’d booked the room through Thursday; it was non-refundable. But she couldn’t stay there another day. She was tired of washing and wearing the same five outfits she’d packed when she walked out more than two weeks ago. She was tired of living in limbo. So, before the sun had even come up Monday morning, she checked out, got in her car, and set out for Virginia.

It was just under an eight-hour drive, which meant she had an awful lot of time to think about what she would say to Adam. And the more she thought, the more solid she became in her decision.  The longer she drove, the more every sad country song streaming through the radio seemed to tell her what she needed to do—no matter how bad it would hurt. She refused to sit around and wait any longer. As far as she was concerned, they were only delaying the inevitable.

It was almost four o’clock when she pulled into Adam’s driveway. She parked next to his truck and cut the ignition. She was exhausted from the drive, and despite all the time she’d had to prepare herself she still wasn’t ready to confront him, not mentally or emotionally. But she didn’t drive all day to turn around. She had to do it, ready or not.

The world was quiet as she walked up to the front door. It was unlocked. She went inside. It wasn’t long before she heard the sound of someone coming quickly down the stairs. Adam’s blue eyes looked confused at the sight of her. Not relieved. Not happy. Not hopeful. Just confused. It broke Callie all over again.

“Hey,” he said.

She let out a rueful breath. “Hey? I’ve been gone more than two weeks and that’s all you have to say to me?”

He frowned. “I’m sorry, Cal. But I wasn’t expecting to see you. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

She picked up her hand and let it fall back down in frustration, her keys dangling from her first two fingers. “What would’ve been the point?”

It hit him when she said that. It was written all over his face, clear as day. “You’re not staying.”

Callie’s nose burned. She shook her head, a bubble in her throat. “No. I’m not.”

She crossed into the kitchen and pulled a glass out of a cabinet to get herself some water. Her hand shook as she carried it to the fridge and filled it up. She took a drink. Adam watched the entire time, mute.

Callie walked to the kitchen island and set the glass down. She drew in a shaky breath—and then she told him what she’d been thinking, over and over, for the last eight-plus hours.

“I can’t go on like this anymore, Adam. I can’t sit around waiting anymore. It’s been more than two weeks, and the only time I heard from you was when you burst into my hotel room with Alex demanding to know why I’d been out with Cash. Do you know how that’s made me feel? It feels like you don’t care about us enough to even try. To even pick up the phone and send a text that says you’re thinking of me, or you’re sorry, or something. Anything.” She shook her head. “You can’t even look at me right now.”

Adam’s eyes flicked up to meet hers. They were so sad. Ashamed. “How can I, Cal?” he asked. “I know what I’ve done. I know how bad I’ve hurt you.”

“Do you?”

“Yes!”

“Then why haven’t you tried to fix it?”

Tears filled her eyes and the room went hazy. Adam looked away again. He didn’t have an answer for her. He didn’t have an answer for anything anymore.

Callie’s voice wavered as she spoke. “I have no choice but to be selfish now. I have to look out for myself, and I can’t sit around in limbo while you figure out if you even want to be with me anymore. What sort of self-respecting woman just waits for her boyfriend to decide if he still loves her?”

“I do still love you,” he quietly said.

She shook her head, tears spilling over. “But not enough. It’s not enough, Adam, and I don’t just want to stay in this because it’s what’s convenient.”

She wiped her tears away. Adam looked back at her, mute. She couldn’t stand there and listen to the silence a second longer.

“I’ll go get what I can.” She walked past him and up the stairs to their bedroom. His bedroom. It was just his bedroom now. She pulled her spare set of luggage from the closet and started packing, clothes, shoes, toiletries, everything she needed and anything that would fit. Adam appeared in the bedroom, a dejected look on his face.

“You don’t have to do this now. I’ll sleep in the guest room.”

“No, I do have to do it now,” she insisted.

More silence. And then, “Do you have somewhere to go?”

She stiffened. “Yes,” she returned, but she didn’t tell him where. She didn’t think it would be fair to tell him where. Thankfully, he didn’t ask.

“Alright,” he breathed. And then that was that. He turned and left the room without so much as another word. It only proved to Callie that she wasn’t the one he was fighting for.

She made quick work of filling up the luggage, desperate to get out of the house that she’d once called home. She lugged it all down the stairs and to the front door. Adam stood in the kitchen, a glass of whiskey already in his hand. His eyes were glassy and red.

“I’m sorry, Cal,” he breathed.

She frowned. “Me too,” she said, and she walked out the door for the last time.

She didn’t cry as she pulled her bags to her car and threw them in her trunk. She didn’t have any tears left. She got behind the steering wheel and started the ignition, and as she pulled out of Adam’s driveway and back onto the road, she made a phone call. It rang once, twice. And then Matt’s voice floated through the speakers of her car.

“Hey. How’d it go?”

“It went,” she answered. Translation: I don’t want to talk about it. “I’m on my way to the airport now.”

“Alright,” he said. “Please drive safe. You’ve driven a lot today.”

“It’s only another hour-fifteen. I’ll be fine.” She chewed on her lip, anxious. “Are you sure your offer still stands?” It was a little late to back out now—she’d already bought the ticket. But she couldn’t help but feel guilty that it was Matt who she was turning to.

“Of course,” he assured. “What time is your flight?”

“9:05.”

She could almost see him nod on the other end. “Alright. Then I’ll see you around 11:30 pacific.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Typically, Alex was the type of person who liked to figure out her shit on her own. But this time, she needed to talk to someone about what she was going through. Maybe if she talked it out, it would help her figure out what the hell she was thinking and feeling. Obviously, she couldn’t talk to Callie or Adam, and she didn’t want to talk to Chuck or Trent (and Jim was completely out of the question). Which left just one person for her to call on: Kris.

“Alright, I need to make sure I have everything straight, because you just hit me with a lot,” Kris said through their FaceTime call. Alex had just spent the previous thirty minutes downloading her on everything that had happened since her injury. She didn’t blame her for needing a recap.

“So you ended things with Kenny the day I got injured so that you could be with Cash,” she started.

“Correct,” Alex confirmed.

“And then Cash ended things with you because Kenny gave you a locket and told you he loved you and got you all confused about how you feel.”

“More or less.”

“And then Adam apparently admitted that he has feelings for you, too?”

“Apparently,” Alex breathed.

Kris shook her head. “Your life is a certifiable soap opera, dude.”

“I know,” Alex agreed with a roll of her eyes. “I wish whoever the hell is writing it would hurry up and tell me the fucking ending.”

Kris gave her a sympathetic frown. “Well, despite everything you’ve told me—and like I said, it was a lot—there’s still one thing you haven’t.”

Alex’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“How you’re feeling.”

The compassion in Kris’s tone caused Alex’s sinuses to burn and tears to stab at the back of her eyes. No one had asked her that. Not one person, since this whole ordeal had started. And now that someone had, she couldn’t help but unload.

“I feel empty. Emptier than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I went from falling in love with Cash, to realizing that I might still love Kenny while falling in love with Cash, and it tore me apart. And now… I don’t know what I feel. All those feelings are still there, but I don’t know if I wish that Cash and I were still together or if I want to move forward with Kenny. And I’m mad. I’m so fucking mad at myself for the things I’ve done; for hurting people I care about for no good reason. And I’m fucking furious at Adam for being so goddamn selfish. He knows what I’m going through. He’s known the whole fucking time and on Saturday he acted like all he cared about were his feelings.”

Her voice broke, and the tears that she’d been fighting to hold back finally spilled over, streaming down her face, hot and angry. “I’m sorry—”

“No,” Kris firmly returned. “Don’t you dare apologize. You needed to get that out.”

Alex tried to wipe her cheeks dry, but more tears kept falling. “I’m tired of feeling like this,” she choked. “But I have no idea what I’m supposed to do to fix it.”

Kris’s brow puckered in thought. It was clear even through Alex’s tears that she was debating saying something. “What?” she pressed.

“I was just thinking,” Kris started. “I read somewhere once that if you fall in love with two people you should choose the second, because if you truly loved the first then you wouldn’t have fallen in love with the second. So… that would be Cash, right?”

Alex bit the inside of her lip in contemplation. “I don’t know.”

Kris looked confused. “What? What do you mean you don’t know?”

���Because,” she breathed in frustration. “If you include last year, then yeah, Cash is second. But if you’re only talking about the last couple months, then wouldn’t Kenny technically be second?”

“But you’ve already been down this road with Kenny.”

“But still,” she quietly returned. She closed her eyes. Her head was starting to hurt.

“Do you want my honest advice?”

Alex reopened her eyes. “Of course,” she said.

“Alright, well here it is: if you’re this confused and you really don’t know what you want, then I think you need to just step back from the entire situation. You need to take care of you, Alex. That’s what’s most important. And after that… the things that are meant to be will work themselves out.”

Alex stared at the screen, her vision going distant and blurry as Kris’s words sunk in. They were hard to hear, but the truth was never easy to digest. All these weeks she’d contended with guilt and hurt and confusion and regret—and her own happiness had gotten lost in the process. She needed to find it again, and the only way to do it was to focus on herself.

“You’re probably right,” she admitted.

“I know it sucks,” Kris said. “But you deserve to be happy. And none of this is making you happy.”

“No shit.”

Kris pouted. “I wish I could actually be there for you. I’d go smack all three of them.”

Alex gave a watery laugh. “It’s the thought that counts.” She checked the time; it was a little after 5:00 p.m. “Well, I should probably go feed myself. I haven’t had anything to eat today except a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch this morning.”

Kris’s eyebrows arched. “Yes, please go eat. And don’t have Cinnamon Toast Crunch for dinner, too!”

“Yes, mom.”

They said goodbye, and Alex felt a little bit lighter; less burdened. Her heart still felt broken. But, for the first time in weeks, she had hope that it wouldn’t stay that way.

* * * * * * * * * *

Just as Matt had predicted, Callie’s plane touched down at Los Angeles International Airport just before 11:45 p.m. pacific time. She’d slept nearly the entire five-and-a-half-hour flight, and as she walked through the terminal to baggage claim, she couldn’t help but notice that she felt more energized than she had in weeks. The hustle and bustle of LAX was welcoming and familiar; the warm West Coast air filled her with a sense of nostalgia and comfort. And when she saw Matt waiting for her at arrivals, a smile on his face, she couldn’t help but propel herself forward and jump into his arms. Relieved.

“How was your flight?” he asked as he embraced her. “Not too bad, I guess?”

“It was perfect.” She stepped back from him and smiled. “Left right on time and I slept almost the whole way.”

He nodded. “Well then I guess you don’t need this.”

He gestured with the Starbucks cup in his hand. Callie had been so happy to see him that she hadn’t even noticed. “You got me coffee? You didn’t have to do that!”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I only got you one because I wanted one.”

Callie playfully rolled her eyes. The smirk on his face said otherwise.

“Decaf caramel macchiato, right?”

She nodded as she took the cup from him. “You remembered my order?”

“Yeah. It’s not like it’s anything crazy. Well, except the decaf part.”

Callie smiled and took a sip, hoping the cup would block the blush that had crept into her cheeks.

“Alright, well let’s get out of here,” Matt said as he grabbed the handle of one of her suitcases. “It’s over an hour drive back to my place.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie had worried that the drive to Matt’s house would be awkward. Even more, she worried he would ask her about what had happened at Adam’s house. But it turned out she didn’t need to worry at all. They’d just listened to music and talked about whatever; anything other than the current circumstances. How it felt to be back in California. What she’d missed most about it. Things they’d done together when she’d still lived there. It was light; comfortable. Part of her had worried that she would instantly regret flying out to stay with Matt. But the only thing she regretted was that it had taken her breaking up with Adam to finally come back home.

It was after one in the morning when they arrived. Matt carried both her suitcases through the front door and led her back to the guest room. It looked like it had been recently cleaned. She wondered if he’d done that for her.

“I’ll let you get settled,” he said as he put her suitcases next to the bed. “If you need anything, I’m just at the top of the stairs to the left.”

She smiled warmly at him. “Thank you, Matt. I really appreciate this.”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. You can stay as long as you want.”

He started for the door—but then Callie had a thought. “Hey.” Matt turned back around, an expectant look on his face. “Um, I know it’s late, but between my five-hour sleep on the flight and the sugar in the coffee I’m not exactly tired. So, I don’t know… do you maybe want to watch a movie, or something?”

Callie immediately felt silly for asking. It was after one in the morning and Matt had just driven nearly three hours round-trip to pick her up from the airport. He probably just wanted to go to bed.

But then he gave her a crooked grin. “Yeah. We can watch a movie.”

She blushed again, and she was thankful for the dim light in the room.

Matt disappeared out the door, and Callie tossed open her suitcases and dug around for her pajama shorts and a comfy t-shirt, eager to get out of the clothes she’d been wearing for almost a full twenty-four hours across God knows how many states. As she finished changing, she noticed one of Matt’s hoodies hanging from the doorknob of the closet. It looked comfortable. She took it off the doorknob and pulled it on. It felt just as comfortable as it looked. Content, she threw her hair into a high messy ponytail and met Matt in the great room. He sat on the couch, his phone in his hand. A corner of his mouth quirked up when he saw her.

“Is that my hoodie?”

She smirked. “Yeah. It looked comfy. Is it alright if I wear it?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Something about the look in his eyes told her that Matt thought it was more than just “alright” that she was wearing his hoodie. Callie fidgeted and changed the subject. “So, what do you want to watch?”

He nodded toward the media cabinet. “See if there’s anything you like over there. If not, there’s always Netflix.”

Callie walked over to the media cabinet. It didn’t take long for her to find something that piqued her interest. She pulled a pink DVD box from the cabinet and held it up. “This,” she happily decided.

Matt’s brow furrowed. “Mean Girls? You’re gonna make me sit through that?”

“It’s in your collection,” she flatly pointed out.

He cleared his throat. “It’s, uh, Nick’s.”

She smirked again as she walked over and handed it to him. “Uh huh. Sure.”

He didn’t make any arguments as he took it from her and stood to put the DVD in the player. Callie sat down on the couch and made herself comfortable underneath a throw blanket, pulling her legs up. She grinned at Matt as he made his way back over and sat down next to her.

“Wanna hear something funny?” she asked.

“What?”

“So, after Kenny and Alex split up, she told Adam that the Elite were like the Plastics.”

She giggled as she watched him, awaiting his reaction. His face screwed up as he pressed play on the remote. “Please tell me you’re not being serious.”

“Deadly,” she confirmed. “She said that Kenny is Gretchen and Nick is Karen… and you’re Regina George.”

“What?” he shot. “Well, if that’s the case then Alex is Janis and Chuck, Trent, and Orange are collectively Damian.”

Callie let out a loud burst of laughter and covered her mouth with her hand. “So you are a fan of the movie,” she teased.

He pursed his lips. “Just shut up and watch it.”

She gently kicked him with her foot, but he caught her ankle and pulled her feet onto his lap. Callie adjusted so that she laid on the couch, her legs draped across him under the blanket and his hand on her shin, slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth across her skin. And it didn’t feel strange, watching the movie with Matt like that. It shocked her that she didn’t miss it being Adam. And even though she’d said she wasn’t tired, it wasn’t long before she closed her eyes and was lulled into sleep by the comfort of his touch.

“Callie.”

She heard Matt’s voice as if in a dream, half awake. The movie still played in the background. “Hm?”

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

She felt him gently take her hand, and she let him pull her up and off the couch and lead her back to the guest room. He helped her into bed, and as he pulled the covers up and over her, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. She pressed a half-conscious kiss to his cheek, the stubble of his beard rough against her lips.

“Goodnight,” he said, and Callie rolled over and slept.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie didn’t wake until almost 10:30 the next morning. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in that late. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept that well. She pushed back the covers and stretched, and she realized that she was still wearing Matt’s hoodie; she’d slept through the night in it. She remembered him helping her to bed, her pressing a kiss to his cheek as he said goodnight. Her stomach did a little flip. She tried not to dwell on it as she climbed out of bed, grabbed her phone, and walked into the great room. Matt was in the kitchen.

“Morning,” he greeted with a smile. He was already dressed, his hair tied back in its usual bun at the nape of his neck. “How’d you sleep?”

“Really good, actually,” Callie answered as she took a seat at the kitchen table. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He shrugged. “I thought about it, but you had a long day yesterday. I figured you needed the rest.”

She didn’t say anything in return. She knew he was right.

“I have some bacon and toast ready here for you,” he said. “Do you want eggs? I didn’t want them to get cold, so I held off making any.”

She shook her head. “The bacon and toast are fine. But I will take some tea if you have any?”

Matt smiled. “I actually went and bought some because I know you like it.”

He set to work making her up a cup, and Callie felt that flutter in her gut again. But then her phone chirped. It was a text from Britt.

How’s hotel living?

She stared blankly at the screen until it went black. Britt thought she was still in Jacksonville. Callie wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell her the truth.

“Everything alright?”

She looked up at Matt and nodded. “Yeah, just Britt checking in with me.”

She left it at that and opened the text. On second thought, she didn’t want to lie to Britt. If she did, it would only make it seem like her staying with Matt was more than it was. I’m actually in California.

“Does she know you’re here?” Matt asked as she pressed “send.”

“She does now.”

He nodded. “Does Adam know you’re here?”

Britt texted her back. With Big Brother Buck???

Callie internally rolled her eyes as she responded to her. Yes, she sent back. And then to Matt, “No.” She looked down at her lap. “I just thought it would be better not to tell him.”

He carried over a plate of crispy bacon and buttered toast and a steaming hot mug of tea. “I get it,” he said as he set them down in front of her. “Adam and I haven’t exactly been the best of friends lately.”

“Thanks,” Callie said as she picked up the tea. She blew on it and took a sip, relishing in the taste and warming comfort of it. He’d made it just right.

“So, do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?” he cautiously asked. “I understand if you don’t… but it might be good to just get it off your chest.”

Callie’s phone chirped again, but she silenced it and placed it screen-down on the table. She didn’t feel like dealing with Britt’s probing questions at the moment, and Matt was right. It would be good if she got it off her chest.

“He barely said a word to me when I showed up yesterday. He didn’t even try to stop me from leaving, and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t even try to fight for me.” She wrapped her hands around the mug, feeling its warmth radiate through her skin. “The only thing he did say was that he still loved me.”

Matt looked back at her. “Do you still love him?”

She let out a sigh. “I do. But sometimes being in love isn’t enough. Just saying it isn’t enough. I need to feel it, too. I need you to show me that you want me.” She blushed, suddenly realizing what she was saying. “God, that sounds super clingy, doesn’t it?” she said as picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite.

But Matt shook his head. “No. It makes perfect sense to me. And if Adam doesn’t want to show you, then it’s his loss. There are other guys out there who will.”

Callie’s chewing slowed to a stop as she looked into Matt’s eyes. Their dark brown color was so warm, so different than Adam’s bright blue. But their color wasn’t the only thing about them that set them apart from Adam’s. She saw emotion and truth in Matt’s eyes, two things that she hadn’t seen in Adam’s eyes in weeks.

And suddenly Callie thought—maybe she shouldn’t have told Britt where she was.

* * * * * * * * * *

“So, what’s the verdict, doc?”

Alex looked hopefully up at the trainer as he finished examining her ankle. She’d come to see him as soon as she could after arriving at Daily’s Place, eager to learn her prognosis. As much as she’d rested her ankle over the last two weeks, she expected to get the all-clear.

“I think you’re good,” he said. “But I want you to rest it one more week just to be sure.”

Alex wilted a bit, but she nodded. “Alright. It’s not like I’ve got anything going on anyway.”

She climbed down from the exam table, pulled on her sneaker, and went out the door with a wave. Now that that was done, she was headed straight back to the Best Friends locker room—and that was exactly where she intended to stay for the rest of the show. She would not go to catering, she would not accompany Chuck and Trent for the tag team gauntlet match, she would not pass “Go” or collect $200. There were far too many people she didn’t care to run into lurking around the halls of the arena.

Like Cash, for instance, who had just stepped out of FTR’s locker room into the hall. Because of course he had.

“Hey,” he said. Just to say something. It would have been rude not to say something.

“Hey,” Alex returned. They were only a few feet apart, but it felt like there was a massive, impassable ocean between them. She hated it. She couldn’t bear to be around it a second longer. “Um, I was just headed back from the trainer, so…” she awkwardly trailed off, unsure what to say next. So, she said the only thing she could think of to get herself out of there. “Well, good luck in the gauntlet match.”

She started to walk past him; but then Cash spoke up.

“How’s your ankle?”

Alex blinked, somewhat surprised that he’d asked. That he seemingly cared to ask. “Oh, it’s good. I feel fine, but he wants me to rest it another week just to be sure.”

He nodded. “That’s good,” he said, and Alex’s gaze went distant as she realized the sad irony of her choice of words. Ankle aside, she didn’t feel fine.

“Will you be out there for the gauntlet match? With Chuck and Trent.”

She focused back in on him. “Um, no,” she answered. She glanced down at her hands, anxiously picking at her nails. “So, you don’t have to worry about that.”

She looked back up at him. His face fell. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She chewed on the inside of her mouth. How had he meant it, then? Had he hoped she would be out there? No, she couldn’t think that; she couldn’t hope that. It would probably only leave her disappointed. “Well, like I said… good luck tonight.”

She tried to leave again, but he said something that made her stop.

“Do you really mean that?”

Alex looked back at him. It didn’t seem like he thought she was being insincere in wishing him good luck. Instead, it looked like he genuinely wanted to know if she meant it. And the truth was, she did.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I do. I mean, of course I want Chuck and Trent to win; I want them to be the champions. But you and Dax deserve it, too. I know how hard you’ve worked to get here.”

Cash looked into her eyes. He gave her a sad, grateful smile. “Thank you, Alex,” he genuinely returned. “That means a lot.”

She nodded. She really needed to go now. “Just do me a favor: if Chuck and Trent don’t beat the Bucks, kick their ass extra hard for me, alright?”

He smiled again, more lighthearted that time. “Will do.”

Alex gave him one final grin, and then she turned and continued down the hall. That interaction hadn’t been as painful as she’d thought it would be at the start, but it still left a part of her wanting. She thought back to the conversation she’d had with Kris on Monday, to that thing she’d told her she’d read somewhere. If you fall in love with two people you should choose the second, because if you truly loved the first then you wouldn’t have fallen in love with the second. Then there was that other thing she’d told her: You’ve already been down this road with Kenny. Maybe she was right. Maybe Cash was the second.

But she didn’t have a chance to think about it. The Best Friends locker room was just a few yards ahead. The door opened—and Adam walked out. He stopped when he saw her.

“Oh, hey.”

Alex slowed to a stop. She was nervous to see him; and yes, a little bit angry, too. They hadn’t spoken since that night at the bar, when he’d sat across from her and so selfishly admitted his feelings. But then she noticed his eyes. They were bloodshot and glassy. He didn’t look sober.

“Hey,” she cautiously returned. “What’s going on?”

He took a few steps closer. “Um, I was just looking for you,” he explained as he pointed his thumb back at the locker room door. “Trent said you’d gone to see the trainer.”

She frowned up at him. “I don’t want to talk, Ad—”

“Callie ended it.”

Alex stopped. She felt for him, she really did. But she wasn’t surprised. She didn’t know what to say.

Adam swallowed. “She, um. She showed up at the house on Monday and told me it was over. She packed everything she could and left.”

Alex’s brow furrowed. “Is she still staying with Britt?”

He let out a soft, wry laugh. “That’s the thing. I didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t say. But uh, I was just walking back from catering to my locker room. I passed by hair and makeup and… I overheard Britt tell Penelope that she’s staying with Matt.”

The bottom dropped out of Alex’s stomach. She couldn’t believe it. She expected something like that from Matt Jackson, that fucking cocky asshole, but not Callie. And, suddenly, she wasn’t angry at Adam anymore. She was angry for him.

“She broke up with me and then immediately went running to Matt, of all the fucking people she could have gone to. And I know, I just know he loves that she did.”

He gritted his teeth as he spoke, becoming angrier with every word. Alex’s heart was broken for him. “I’m sorry, Ad—”

He cut her off. “Don’t be. That asshole’ll get what’s coming to him.”

And with that he walked off, leaving Alex wondering—and worrying—what exactly he meant.

* * * * * * * * * *

Callie’s heart hadn’t stopped racing since the tag team gauntlet match had started. Matt and Nick had already beaten the Natural Nightmares, and now they were in the midst of their second match against Best Friends. If they won, they would face FTR immediately after. If they beat FTR, they’d get a title shot against Kenny and Adam at All Out in just over a week. And the longer Callie watched, the more she realized: she wanted the Young Bucks to win. Tonight, and at All Out.

Matt had taken out Chuck with a chop to the knee on the ring apron, and now he and Nick had Trent isolated in the ring. Nick tagged in Matt; Matt grabbed Trent and hung him up on the ropes. Nick went to the top turnbuckle and hit a perfect 450 splash. Matt went for the cover—but Trent kicked out at two-and-a-half.

“Dammit,” Callie muttered.        

“I see who you’re rooting for,” Britt commented with a smirk.

“Well, obviously I don’t want Best Friends to win,” she returned.

Britt’s eyebrows arched. “No love lost between you and Alex then, huh?”

Callie didn’t comment. Alex was the next-to-last person she wanted to think about right now. The last was Adam.

“So how are things going with you and Big Brother Buck?” Britt asked.

Callie sent her a sidelong glance across the locker room. It was obvious she assumed something was going on between her and Matt. “We’re just friends, Britt,” she said. But she couldn’t help but add, “But I’m glad I decided to go out there.”

Britt’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Oh, really? Professor Jackson was a good host, huh? Did he teach you anything else while you were out there?”

“Britt!”

“Relax,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m just teasing you.”

Callie pursed her lips. She wasn’t entirely sure she was just teasing her. But her attention abruptly was drawn back to the TV when she heard Chris Jericho proclaim, “Oh look at this! Hangman!”

Callie’s brow furrowed. Hangman? She didn’t see Adam anywhere. But then the camera cut to the right side of the ring, and she couldn’t help but see him. He held onto Nick’s leg. Nick tried to break free, but he couldn’t. And then, Trent rolled up Matt and counted one-two-three.

“Oh shit,” Britt said.

Callie couldn’t believe her eyes. She felt herself starting to shake as she watched, unable to look away, trying to process what she’d just seen. Adam’s eyes were red and glassy. Nick and Matt stared at him—shocked, betrayed, confused. Matt screamed at Adam to look at him, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.  

“I need to go.” She stood from the couch and pushed her way out of the locker room, heart racing, thoughts going a million miles a minute. So fast that she couldn’t make sense of any of them. She couldn’t make sense of what Adam had just done, no matter how bad his relationship had gotten with the rest of the Elite.

She arrived at Gorilla just as Matt and Nick returned backstage. She didn’t even get the chance to open her mouth before Matt yelled, “Did you know he was gonna do that?”

She gaped at him, taken aback. Angry that he could even think that. “No! Of course I didn’t know, are you kidding me?”

He raked a hand through his sweat-damp hair and turned away, pacing. But then he abruptly stopped. “I bet I know who fucking did.”

He took off down the hall. Nick followed, just as heated as his brother. Callie practically had to run to keep up with them. “What are you doing?” she asked—but she got her answer when she saw the door to Best Friends’ dressing room just ahead. She panicked.

“Matt, don’t,” she implored. But he didn’t listen. He charged in without warning, sending the door flying against the wall with a loud bang! Callie had no choice but to go in after him.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?”

Alex nearly jumped a foot in the air from where she sat on the couch at the unexpected boom of Matt’s voice. But as soon as she got her bearings, her shock was instantly replaced with anger. “What the fuck, Matt?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he spat as he stalked toward her. “Did you put Adam up to what he just did out there?”

Alex’s lips parted in shock. “You’ve lost your goddamn mind,” she said.

“Have I?”

“Yeah, you fucking have.”            

“Cut the bullshit, Alex!” he proclaimed. “We all know you have every reason in the world to sabotage us, and you have Adam wrapped around your fucking finger just like you do Kenny!”

Callie reeled when Matt said that. But she didn’t have time to fully process it before Alex stood from the couch and stepped right up to him. Her eyes darkened.

“Nick, if you don’t want to become an only child then I suggest you get your brother out of here right now.”

Matt let out a low laugh. But before Nick could step in the door flew open again. Kenny hurried in, a mixture of panic and confusion on his face.

“Oh, perfect timing,” Matt sarcastically muttered.

“What the hell is going on?” Kenny asked. “I could hear you yelling from all the way down the hall!”  

“Matt burst in here screaming at me about how he thinks I had something to do with what Adam just did,” Alex answered.

“What?” Kenny hissed at Matt. But Matt ignored him.

“Oh, quit the innocent act, Alex!”

“I AM innocent!”

“Alright, come on,” Kenny took Alex by the waist and gently pushed her back as she tried to advance on Matt. But she wasn’t done.

“If you want to know why Adam sabotaged you then maybe you should take a look in the fucking mirror!”

Matt’s brow lowered. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Quit the innocent act, Matt,” she spat his own words back in his face. “How long did you wait to swoop in once you found out Callie and Adam were having problems?”

“What?” Matt charged. “I didn’t swoop in. I was being her friend.”

“By inviting her to come stay with you in California?”

The room went quiet; shocked. Callie’s heart jumped into her throat. How the hell did Alex know that she’d been in California? Did that mean Adam knew? He must. Her eyes flicked to Matt. He looked just as caught as her.

“You did what?” Kenny gaped. He glanced between Matt and Callie, eyes wide, waiting for an explanation. Matt bit down on his jaw.

“Like I said, I was just being her friend.”

“Oh my God,” Kenny pinched the bridge of his nose. It got Callie to finally speak up.

“There is nothing going on between Matt and me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Alex charged.

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” she returned. “How many guys do you have dangling on a line right now, Alex? Three? Four? I honestly can’t keep up.”

Alex took a threatening step forward, but Kenny pushed her back again. “Don’t bother, it’s not even worth it,” he said to her.

Callie scoffed. “Defending her like always.”

“Yeah, I am,” he returned. “Because she’s right. It’s no wonder Hangman threw the match with you two going behind his back like that.”

Matt’s mouth dropped. Betrayed. “Are you serious? Callie and I are just friends!”

“You’re supposed to be ADAM’S friend!”

Alex yelled so forcefully that it took her by surprise. But she was angry. She was so angry for Adam’s sake, and she couldn’t hold back any longer. “The only thing he’s ever wanted is your approval! That’s it! And your head is shoved so far up your own goddamn ass that you can’t see it! So just for one second, can you please pull it out and imagine—can you fucking imagine just for one goddamn second how it must have felt for him to find out secondhand from Britt-fucking-Baker that as soon as his girlfriend broke up with him she hopped a plane to fly clear across the country to stay with someone who’s supposed to be HIS friend?”

She finally stopped, out of breath, voice hoarse, dizzy from yelling. And then, the sound of the ring bell came from the TV. The last match of the gauntlet, Best Friends vs. FTR. She’d completely forgotten about it, what with Matt storming in on her. She turned to look. Her face fell as the ref raised Cash and Dax’s arms in victory. “Shit,” she cursed. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it when Matt spoke up again.

“Adam’s insecurities aren’t my problem,” he said. “If he has an issue with me giving my friend a place to stay, then tell him he can come talk to me like a man. Not sneak up on my brother and cost us a fucking title shot. What he’s feeling is personal. Interfering in our match is business.”

With that, he turned and stalked back out of the locker room, pushing his way through the door. Nick cast disappointed eyes at Kenny before he followed after his brother. Callie looked at Alex. She shook her head, her expression angry, and then she turned and walked out the door.

Alex’s shoulders slumped. Her head was pounding and her ears ringing, adrenaline still coursing through her. “What a fucking asshole,” she breathed.

Kenny gripped her arm. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I just can’t believe he thinks I would tell Adam to do that.”

He frowned. “You know how Matt gets when he’s angry. He jumps to conclusions.”

She nodded as she drew in a breath, trying to calm her nerves. She looked up at him. “Um, thank you for coming in here. I don’t think I would’ve wanted to deal with that on my own.”

“Of course,” he softly said. “But you tore him a new one, so I think you would’ve been fine.”

He gave her a lopsided grin, and she couldn’t help but return it. There was that feeling again, those three little-big words. But, at the moment, there were more pressing matters than her complicated feelings for Kenny. “Well, I’m gonna go meet Chuck and Trent. I’m sure they’re not happy.”

Kenny nodded. “Yeah, go.”

Alex nodded and, somewhat reluctantly, made for the door. But she stopped and looked back at him, a thought occurring to her. “About the text you sent me… I want you to know that I’m not mad at you, Kenny. I’m mad at myself. And because of that… I do need some time.”

He nodded again, his blue eyes soft. “I know, Alex. And I understand.”

She gave him a thankful smile, and then she went out the door, her heart a little stronger than it had been five minutes ago.

* * * * * * * * * *

Matt couldn’t wait for Adam to come talk to him and Nick. Part of it was because he was still so angry, but it was mostly because he knew Adam wouldn’t come talk to them. He was a coward. Only cowards would do what he’d done tonight. So, he decided that he had no choice but to go confront him himself.

He stalked through the halls of Daily’s Place, Nick close behind. They found Adam right where they expected him to be.

“Of course you’re at the bar!” Nick shouted. “Of course you are!”

Adam stood there, mute, a drink in his hand. There were two more drinks sitting on the bar. It was obvious he was waiting for someone. Matt let out a laugh.

“Are you expecting someone, Hangman?” he asked with a gesture at the drinks. “Are you kidding me?”

Adam didn’t answer. He still couldn’t look at him; at either of them.

“Why’d you do it, huh?” Nick pressed, getting right in his face. “You cost us a title match. Why? Are you afraid to face us again, is that why?”

“No, he’s insecure!” Matt proclaimed. “He’s insecure about his friendships, he’s insecure about his relationship, and it all finally pushed him to this.”

Adam finally looked at him when he said that. Angry. Matt could see it in the set of his jaw, in the tension in his shoulders, in his bloodshot and glazed-over eyes. But there wasn’t just anger in his eyes; there was also guilt and shame. He’d done this to himself. He pushed his friends and his girlfriend away—and he knew it. But Matt didn’t feel sorry for him. Not anymore.

He stepped closer. “Apparently, all you’ve ever wanted was our approval. Well, guess what: you had it, Hangman. You had it. But not anymore.”

Adam opened his mouth—but Matt snatched his drink from his hand before he could speak. He didn’t want to hear anything he had to say.

“And you know what? It’s about damn time someone told you the truth. You’re nothing but a drunk.”

He tossed the whiskey in Adam’s face. And then Matt said something that he’d been wanting to say to Adam for months.

“You’re out of the Elite.”

With that, he and Nick turned and left Adam there at the bar, covered in alcohol, alone.

[nymphigeon]

From me, to you || 06

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.9k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, mention of murder, mentions of gambling.

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

05 06 07

The walk back to Taehyung’s cell was uneventful. I was scared Ella would be waiting for me around the corner, ready to scream at me all over again. Luckily though, she was nowhere to be seen.

Taehyung didn’t really say anything anymore about our talk, just silently walking in front of me. Some colleagues passing us gave me weird looks, as if they knew what had happened. Well, seeing your supervisor angrily stomp to her office might be a dead giveaway something went down.

“Taehyung?” Again, when he entered his cell, no words were spoken. He simply went to sit on the bed and stared at the ground, not even acknowledging my presence. Even now as I try to grab his attention, his gaze stays fixed on the grey coloured ground.

“You haven’t eaten a lot since you got here right? Wait, I’ll go get you something.” I turn around in the direction of the small kitchen, not really planning on waiting as I’m not expecting a response. My expectations aren’t met however.

“No need.” Short, but clearly stating his desires. Or rather, lack of desires. “I insist. It doesn’t take a detective to figure out you must be hungry.” I don’t look at him as I speak, still facing the destination only a few steps away.

“I know that talking about it must’ve reminded you of that time, brought up feelings you forgot about for a while. They were the past back when I rescued you of the street, and they’re still the past right now. Nothing changed.”

A memory of Taehyung scarfing down food because of my tears pop up. It causes a tiny smile to appear on my face, even though at the time it wasn’t the happiest moment. “Should I start crying again?”

It’s said as a joke, something to lighten the mood. A light chuckle coming from behind confirms it worked. “I won’t hesitate to call you a baby this time.” I can’t see him, but I can hear the smile in his voice.

We’ll be able to laugh at this in the future. Looks like that’s true.

“Hey, it’s a good thing to let out emotions, bottling them up causes stress and discomfort!” Putting my hands on my hips, I take on a defensive stand. The one where I defend my statement, not to fight, fortunately.

“Sure miss smarty pants. Go get me some of that delicious prison food.” If I wasn’t so relieved that he finally accepted to eat, I would’ve probably defended my cooking skills as well. Contrary to the others working here, I actually can cook without burning everything I touch. Now that is what I call an achievement.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Ella, I need to speak with you.” A familiar voice pushes its way through the door. One that I haven’t exactly missed, but looked forward to hearing from nonetheless.

She’s direct, rough sounding. The normal politeness her words usually contain gone, most likely together with her respect for me. Not that she can show it, as I still hold all the cards, though it sure would be fun to see her try.

Whether her directness was born out of her growing disdain towards me, or out of the confidence she built knowing the answers to my questions is unknown to me. I don’t really care, it doesn’t matter with the position I’m in.

The position I got by being harsh and unforgiving. Throw your sympathy out of the window, just focus on whatever you need to find out. The way you do so is unimportant as long as you succeed. It’s the exact attitude she screamed at me for. The exact attitude she’s giving me right now. Perhaps she is more useful to me than I thought.

“Do come in.”

With no hesitation the door opens and she steps into the room. Her expression is different from the typical kind determined face she wears around the office. The kindness has gone, replaced by something else.

I’m curious as to what she will tell me. Will I be left disappointed? I didn’t count the option that she might just come beg me to keep her. Reckless of me.

“I found the guy.”

Disappointed I am not. Then this is most likely jealousy. Jealousy for the way she found what I failed to acquire myself. Though that’s just half of it. The other part is joy.

“Now this is interesting, tell me about it.”

She nonchalantly throws the device she had been holding at me, the recorder I left in the room with the hybrid the other day. First, my sad attempt, and second her who effortlessly got what I couldn’t. “You can take a listen at that after we’re done, it contains all you need to know.”

That I will do, but I don’t say it out loud. Simply nodding, I motion for her to go on. Just get straight to the point, I’m not satisfied until he is behind bars.

“The guy’s name is Lee Ji-hyun, who, according to Taehyung, is a popular gambler. Presumably that’s the way he got enough money for a tiger hybrid. Found his name on a few gambling websites, completely unlawful if I may add, which confirms that.”

Not only did she find him, she also figured out that wherever he went for his money, the places aren’t supposed to be there. I never asked her for any more than that guy’s name, and instead of one, she brought me two cases to work on, one easier than the other. I’ll worry about the easy one later.

“According to our records he got arrested for drug use a few years back, but got released due to too little evidence.” That makes things easier. At least we already know something about him from the investigation back then, we won’t have to start from square one.

“Great work, I’m impressed.” Praise encourages people to work hard, makes them even more useful to me. Why figure things out myself, when I can boss others around to find it out for me?

“I need access to the World Hybrid Register and a search warrant. I don’t just want to catch him for murder. The signs of hybrid abuse, hybrid dealing, illegal gambling and drug use are also there.”

Again, as direct as she can be. She isn’t asking me, neither is she ordering me. Stating what she needs with the underlying expectation she’ll get it. Normally that would give her a one way ticket out of this place. Normally.

“Sure.” The determined face she was wearing crumbles into a look of shock. The underlying expectation I thought I heard had been completely faked, and I fell for it.

“Wait, really? Just like that?” She seems happy. Everything about her posture exuded confidence when she walked in here. Now I’m beginning to think the entire thing was one big act. One that she played perfectly.

“Yeah. I’ll make sure to get you whatever you need. I trust you know what you’re doing?” It must be apparent how I’m nice when you do as I say, not so nice when you go against me. Apparently a great leader listens to those lower in the ranks, however my superiority complex holds me from doing so.

“Always.” It’s back. The sweet smile playing on her face brings back the kindness she walks around with. The one I thought was her weakness. For once, I was wrong.

“Great. Go send me the details over email, I have stuff to do.” My sentence ends in a sigh, not feeling like going back to the old boring work I was busying myself with before her arrival. Whether I like it or not, I have to. There are still people holding power over me, I can’t decide entirely on my own.

“Of course.” With that she excitedly bounces out my private room. A type of excited I don’t show, but definitely feel.

Let’s see what you’re capable of Y/N.

It wasn’t even 24 hours after the talk with my supervisor that I got an email inviting me to the World Hybrid Registration Centre headquarters. The organization has offices al around the world, keeping tabs on who all own a hybrid, who aren’t allowed to own one, who has had a warning before, etc. They basically just make sure the hybrids are treated well and kept healthy.

I’m not exactly surprised they’re okay with my checking the system, as this is just as much their concern as it is ours, but I am surprised at the speed in which they replied. Known to be extremely busy since the hybrid owning trend blew up, a reply is usually days to weeks after the first email has been sent. Even for the police it can take a couple of days for them to come back to you.

Immediately after I’ve completely read the email I shut down my computer and pack my bag with whatever I may need. I don’t tell any of my colleagues that I’m going, as I know at least one of them will offer to come with me. There is no need for anyone else though, I prefer to go on my own.

The address is way out in another town, causing a two hour drive I’m not looking forward to. Reminding myself of the poor hybrid back at our office and the extra money I’m getting paid, I gain the necessary encouragement for the long trip. At least I’m doing this for someone.

The parking lot is completely full when I arrive. Expensive Tesla’s and huge Mercedes’ litter the place as if the pay is ten times higher than mine. If I would take a second to think it would seem logical, since even the cheapest of hybrids are still mad expensive, and part of that money goes to the people registering everything. Besides that there’s also the hybrid tax, of which, again, a part goes to these workers.

Stepping out of my extremely out of place looking car, I make sure I properly lock the door before walking inside the building. It’s not hard to find the front desk, with it being the first thing you come across after having been blown in the face by the warm air coming from inside.

“Ah, Y/F/N Y/L/N, thank you for coming on such a short notice. I’m sorry it had to be on the same day, we didn’t have any more room for appointments until next month.” The rather old looking lady behind the desk smiles my way with an apologetic look on her face.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m actually glad I was able to visit this fast.” The lady nods and takes off her glasses after typing something into her computer. “It’s our pleasure. We too got really concerned after we heard about the multiple offences.”

There is a hint of sadness to be heard in her voice. Coming across hybrid owners is quite rare where I live, as nobody has the funds to do so. Most people will just curse at the rich and despise anything that has to do with them, including hybrids. Seeing someone who truly cares about them is a nice change.

“You personally wanted to check the information we had on this hybrid mentioned in the email, correct?” The lady, who stood up from her chair a few seconds ago, rounds the desk to stand in front of me. In her hand she holds a card attached to a string that goes round in a loop.

“Yeah that’s right. It’s suspected the hybrid has been neglected, so we just want to know the origin of the hybrid, when it has last had a check-up, things like that. I just need a copy after that and then I’ll be on my way.”

Not knowing whether I could fully trust all the workers here on giving me the right information, I decided to come check everything out myself. It’s said that even here not everyone fully supports hybrids, with the worst stories claiming some are even trying to bring the organization down from inside.

The registration centre has tried to calm the accusations down by stating they check all the workers regularly on their hybrid views in extensive programs, but this was never verified by any other source other than themselves.

“Great! This pass will give you authorization to any room you may wish to enter and on the back is a code to access any systems. One of my colleagues will be with you at all times, but in case you wish to enter places yourself you can use this.”

With one of her hands she beckons me to crouch down to her level. When I do, she carefully places the string around my neck and makes sure it isn’t cutting into my skin, before pushing me to stand back up again.

“Eun-ji! Can you escort this lovely lady around please?” The newfound nickname startles me, not having expected something like that. She clearly doesn’t seem to notice though, keeping herself busy with making sure Eun-ji knows all the details of her upcoming job.

The place is a lot more confusing inside than it looks from the outside. Long hallways with doors to rooms everywhere, stairs in spots you wouldn’t expect them to be and dead-ends in places I was sure looped around in circles. If it wasn’t for my nervous guide, I would’ve definitely already been lost.

“And here we have one of the registration rooms. We fill in all our paper work into the system and make sure everything is updated, although most information just comes in digital nowadays, so all the binders placed in the corner don’t really have a function anymore.”

The room just consists of a bunch of computers with huge monitors screwed to the walls. Right now there is absolutely no one here except for the two of us, but a few of the monitors are still turned on. What a waste of electricity.

“Would you mind if I search the system now?” I already have permission to do so, though my kind nature refuses to just start typing without a heads up. “Of course, that’s what you’re here for after all.” Eun-ji lets out an awkward giggle while fiddling with her fingers. She’s clearly uncomfortable, even though she does her best to hide it.

I don’t waste a second, immediately sitting down behind one of the computers. The system isn’t too hard to navigate, the simple search bar being the only tool I need.

Name owner: Jihyun Lee

Name hybrid: Taehyung…

“Is it needed to fill in everything? I don’t know the hybrid’s last name…” I mentally slap myself in the face for never having asked his full name. Even his file back at the office just has his first name, and nobody ever questioned it. Perhaps we all just assumed he didn’t have one.

“Just fill in whatever you do know. Most hybrids take on the last name of the owner though so you could try that.” In the little time I’ve been staring at a screen, Eun-ji has made it her mission to put as much space between me and her as possible, pretending to be busy doing something at the other side of the room.

Name owner(s): Jihyun Lee

Gender owner(s): Male

Name hybrid: Taehyung Lee

Gender hybrid: Male

Hybrid animal: Tiger

That’s how far I can fill it in. The following bars needing a hybrid type, hybrid identification code, adoption centre, all clog my brain with question marks. The little information I can fill in reminds me of how there is not much I actually know about Taehyung.

Realizing there is nothing else that I can do, I click the search button and wait for the results to come up.

Nothing.

Huge letters on the screen apologize to me, suggesting that I may have made a mistake in whatever information I gave. A breath of air escapes my lips as I sigh and delete Taehyung’s last name.

Still nothing.

“Could it be that I’m doing something wrong? No results are showing up.” Going back to the main screen I try to figure out if perhaps I used the wrong tool, but nothing suggests that I have.

“Okay wait, let me see.” Eun-ji hesitantly comes closer when I stand up from the chair, only sitting down when I’ve moved back a few steps. “What’s the name of the guy?”

“Lee Ji-hyun, or well it’s first name, last name right? Then Ji-hyun Lee. Wait, should I have used a hyphen?” While I’m still trying to come up with what I may have done wrong, Eun-ji quickly brings up a list of people.

“There are a few males with that name owning a hybrid around the world, though since we know he lives here we can narrow it down to one country. What type of hybrid is it?” She doesn’t look at me as she asks, though as soon as I answer her head slowly turns my way.

“You’re sure it’s not just a striped house cat? Or, I don’t know, another predator hybrid instead?” Disbelief is written all across her face. The nervous look she has been wearing got replaced by furrowed brows, obviously going down a list of animals that may look similar.

“Yeah I’m sure. They’re not forbidden right? I would’ve known.” I can’t understand the confusion written across her face. Sure wild animal hybrids are expensive, but that doesn’t mean nobody owns them.

“No not forbidden, I mean they’re hard to come across sure, but…” Eun-ji’s hesitance is making me nervous, something is off. Something that I’m definitely not going to like.

“Miss, this hybrid doesn’t exist.”

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @daisychwe @deathkat657 @elenaramos1

[jenovahh]

The Honey Pot - Ch. 29 - A Love Just as Sweet

“You’re sure you don’t need me to come help? No furniture you need to move?”

“I think you’re just looking for an excuse to ditch work, Ardbert.”

“You’re half right. I’m also looking for an excuse to come see my godchild as well.”

“Your godchild is at home with the babysitter, waiting for me to return from the grocery store.” You can’t help but giggle into the phone at Ardbert’s dramatic groan as you pick up a few rolanberries to put in your shopping cart. “You know you’re more than free to visit, Ardbert.” you grin, even if he cannot see it.

“I know, I know. But it’s hard work now being in charge of an entire luxury chauffeur service now that Varis is gone! I may be the boss, but I have employees to manage. Paychecks to write. Won’t you have pity on your poor friend? Won’t you pay for my ticket to Eorzea?” Ardbert bemoans, and already you can envision his melodramatic flare, unable to stop yourself from snorting at his antics.

“Maybe in a few years I’ll be ready to come back to Kugane.” you murmur softly, rolling an apple around in your hand.

“Always at your own pace, Honey.” Ardbert adds warmly, and it’s times like these you do miss your closest friend. “Even if you feel you can never return, I’ll never fault you for it. I’ll always do my best to come see you.”

You prepare to say something back when your phone beeps in your ear. Pulling it from your face, you see you have an incoming call. “Hey Ardbert, I’ll call back later. I’ve got an important call coming in.”

“No problem, talk to you later, Honey.”

Tapping on the screen, you transfer the call over, bringing your phone to your ear again as you continue to amble around the grocery store. “And what do you want?”

“Is that any way to greet a friend?” Cid scoffs, just as, if not more dramatic than Ardbert.

“It’s a way to greet this friend.” You laugh, nabbing some chips off the shelf. You were getting pretty low on snacks.

“I called to check in on you and also deliver some news. Are you busy?”

“I’m a full time mother, Cid. When am I not busy?” you joke, making your way to the meat department. “After all, my days are filled with diaper changes and games of peekaboo. Exciting stuff.”

“Boring, but peaceful.” Cid supplies, giving out his sage wisdom as usual. “But on a more serious note, is all well?”

Was all well?

It had been a year since your coming to Eorzea, landing yourself a fairly decent sized house in the Gridanian countryside. While off the grid, you were still afforded modern amenities, such as high speed internet and cable TV. Every so often you would have to work your way into the city to run a few errands, just like you are today. You would usually call up one of your trusted neighbors to come over and babysit to put some spare change in their pocket.

You had woken up in the hospital alone, feeling as if you had been hit by a truck while getting ran over by a train, and somehow managed to live. Merlwyb and Cid were the first to barge in your room at news you had woken from your sleep, having feared you would fall into a coma from the damage to your body, or even the damage to your mind.

There was hardly a day that either of them wasn’t at your side, working in shifts almost until Ardbert had even managed to convince them to squeeze in on the rotation. Ardbert’s presence helped break down the walls you had immediately put up upon waking, spending an entire night sobbing into his arms, finally allowing yourself to mourn everything you had lost.

With his help did you get yourself to therapy, Ardbert there with you every step of the way on the road to recovery.

When you reached a point where you felt stable enough to confront all that had happened, you had asked the three of them to tell you what had been going on since that day.

Cid and Merlwyb were quick to hold off the local news of misconstruing facts, Cid telling them to wait until he could get back to his home and compile all the evidence the public needed. The entire city was in an uproar, Varis’ most loyal followers spewing hate and lies to try and convince the public that everything was a ruse and that Cid was the one to cause the explosion at the research facility.

There seemed to be no hope in sight until an unsuspecting witness came to the front.

Gaius of all people had given his testimony, exposing every bit of collusion and dirty deals Varis had a hand in, debunking every lie that Varis had ever spewed, every promise he had intended to break. He had offered himself up for arrest for taking part in Varis’ crimes, even if he had been manipulated into thinking it was for the better of Kugane.

But with Varis gone, and his heir missing, what would happen to Galvus industries?

Cid would receive everything from the corporation, from shares to assets to the building itself. Cid, being the philanthropist he is, decided there was no use of him having so much extra wealth on top of what he already had, and decided to spend the rest of his days giving the money to charities and actually improving the city he now called home.

Said city of course let Lord Hien serve another term. Lord Hien, being an honest man, did not hide his taking part of your operation to stop Varis. With full transparency he informed the public of why he made the decisions he did, assuring them he had not taken out Varis for power, but had kept a tyrant from taking over their country.

When you ask what had become of Elidibus, everyone only stares at you in confusion. You try to describe him to the best of your ability, but all it seems to do is make people more concerned for your mental health by trying to make them remember someone who never existed. Hoping you had not gone off the deep end, it is only when you try to search for him on the internet do you realize his entire existence has been erased.

No notes of him being prime minister of Garlemald, no notes of him having a casual friendship with Vris. As if he had been a figment of your imagination.

Only when you reach for the back of your neck and feel the telltale pulse of your tattoo do you know it wasn’t all a dream.

Taking a deep breath, you finally answer Cid. “I...am well.”

“Good,” Cid breathes, and just hearing his voice makes you yearn for his company. You hope he’ll visit soon. “All good on funds? Need any extra change?”

“Cid, you already wire me nearly 500,000 gil a month; I couldn’t do anything else with more of it.” You grumble as you pick up some chicken breasts and place them in your basket.

“Hey, that money isn’t just for you. I know you want to keep baby Aldynn a secret, but he is still the rightful heir of the Galvus inheritance, and with me in charge of the funds I’ll ensure he gets it. The best time to start saving for college is now,”

“Cid.” you sigh, padding your way to prepare to checkout. Thankfully the lines aren’t too long this time of day. “Aldynn is barely a year old. I don’t have to start thinking about college for another decade and a half.”

“I know, I know…” Cid grumbles, and you can’t help but feel a little bad. Cid really did mean well, being every bit the overprotective uncle you knew he’d be. “I just worry. And I miss you.”

Smiling sadly, you begin to hand your items to the cashier to checkout. “I miss you too, Cid.”

“And better me to call you than Merlwyb, eh? You know we’re practically monitoring her bank account to make sure she hasn’t bought another round trip ticket to Eorzea.” Cid laughs, prompting you to snicker as you hand your payment to the cashier.

“I don’t know what she worries so much for...she really should work through her guilt…” you muse quietly, thanking the cashier as they help load your bags back into your basket.

“She will, in time. Granted, I'm sure the statue they are about to erect of Raubahn down at the police station will reopen some old wounds for a little bit.” Cid laments, both of you silent for a second. “You may be seeing her come over sooner than you’d like. Your statue,”

You stop in place as you glare angrily at the phone glued to the side of your face. “My statue?”

“Shit,” Cid curses under his breath. “Yeah, I fucked that one up. Sorry, Honey.” Cid apologizes, but you’re already fuming as you make your way out to the parking lot.

“I already said I didn’t want a statue! That Chief Raubahn was the only one who deserved it for his sacrifice!” You huff and puff, practically throwing your groceries into your trunk in frustration.

“I know, I know, but you know Merlwyb can be very convincing and very intimidating…” Cid winces as he tries to calm you down. “It’s just going to be a nice little statue in one of the parks, I promise. Merlwyb was prepared to give you an entire fountain--”

“Well thanks for making her show some restraint.” You drone sarcastically, slamming the trunk lid closed. You swear you were going to give that woman a piece of your mind. “Anyway, I appreciate the call Cid. I’m about to drive back home and cook dinner. Gotta send the babysitter on their way.”

“Of course, Honey. Take care.”

The call ends and you pull out of the parking lot, driving your humble car back out of the city. You took to Gridania almost immediately, the climate not too different from Kugane, though the entire country was packed with trees and native flora. You didn’t mind it though, having picked up gardening as a little side hobby as a result. You most likely wouldn’t try and go back into any line of work until baby Aldynn started going to school, which wouldn’t be for a few years yet.

Adjusting to an entirely new life hadn’t been easy, but you needed to just get away from everything. When you were fit to be released from the hospital after the whole ordeal, the outside of the hospital was packed with press, so much so that the only way out of there undetected was with Ardbert’s help since he wasn’t as prominent a figure as Cid or Merlwyb.

You were dodging letters and emails and phone calls every hour of every day it felt like, people badgering you about how you stayed undercover for so long, about how you had saved Merlwyb from being killed alongside Raubahn, about your supposed romance with the heir who had mysteriously gone missing--

It was Lyse and Y’Shtola’s idea that you leave Kugane.

You couldn’t have been any happier to finally reunite with them, the two of them crying their eyes out as they are finally allowed to see you, weeping about how they saw you on the news and how worried they were and for you to never leave their sight again.

You had thought to do just that, but even they could see your mental health continue to deteriorate. You couldn’t even leave your own apartment for fear of being recognized in public, unsure if people would question your “heroic deeds” or ask you things far too personal to answer. It was with their encouragement you got the idea to leave the country and start anew, and what better time to do so when you were halfway through your pregnancy? A pregnancy that against all odds, your unborn child had been just as strong as its parents.

Which, as hard as it was for you to admit, made you wonder if Aldynn would have some kind of freakish strength as he got older. No matter how many doctors checked you, after the sting operation, they said that both mother and baby were the perfect picture of health. While you were overjoyed that you would not have to deal with the trauma of a miscarriage, you can’t steer your mind from darker thoughts that your baby might have been the invincible weapon Varis had been hoping for.

Pulled from your thoughts as your phone rings, you activate the hands free calling, noticing it is your babysitter. “Hello, Zhloe. I know you’re probably eager to get home, I just left the grocery store a little while ago--”

“Oh don’t worry about it! Aldynn is safe with his father!”

Your heart stops.

“Excuse me?” you ask, voice tight but making sure to not lose your cool. While an adult, Zhloe was a very kindhearted, yet unfortunately naive individual. She lived with her younger sister down the road where they ran an animal sanctuary, the two of them orphaned when they were young but maintaining their good hearts regardless.

“Yes! I had left the house a little while ago, but a man knocked on the door. I asked who he was and he told me he was looking for you. I told him very nicely to go away at first because I thought he was a stranger, but when I got a good look at him through the window, I saw he looked just like Aldynn. I asked how he knew you, and he said he was Aldynn’s father.”

Your foot floors the gas before you can stop yourself. You had told her nothing of your past; for all you knew whatever stranger she let in your house could be out for revenge. “Zhloe, I hate to tell you this, but Aldynn’s father,”

“It’s okay, Ms. Honey, I won’t tell anybody! When I asked him questions about you, he answered all of them and that made me sure he wasn’t a stranger. I’ll admit, I had always wondered about Aldynn’s father, but it makes sense he was off in the military like he said. If you guys ever need a date night, just give me a call! He’s so handsome too...you really hit the jackpot!”

“Zhloe, wait--”

“I’m going to get dinner ready for me and Khloe. Have a good night!”

The phone call ends, and you decide not to try and call back to not worry the poor woman. She surely meant well, but you can’t stop your heart from leaping out of your chest as you turn onto the road that has you exit the city and leads to your countryside home.

It’s not possible, you keep telling yourself as you blaze down the street, passing cars like you’re in a street race. Could one of Varis’ old goons have found you, wanting revenge? Would they hold your baby hostage? It’s not possible, it’s not possible--

You’re practically drifting into the driveway of your home, kicking up dirt as you wrench the car to a stop, practically flailing as you kick the car door open. “Aldynn!” You cry. You can see the light on in his room upstairs. Your baby is in danger, he’s in danger--

Shoving the keys into the lock, you fling the door open, running down the entrance hallway and straight into the living room. Your living room is completely empty and you can see nobody in the kitchen or dining area. The house is quiet, not even the sound of your baby crying. Did they already get him? Is he gone--

“I would keep it down,” a voice calls from upstairs, “our son is sleeping.”

It’s not possible.

Halfway near tears, you numbly climb the stairs, afraid of what you might find.

You know that voice.

A single light fills the hallway from Aldynn’s room, and you hear not so much as a whimper from your babe. He knows he is safe, knows he is in no danger.

It’s not possible.

Reaching the doorway, Aldynn’s room is exactly as you left it, and so is your son. Not a hair out of place, his chubby face relaxed and asleep, entirely content in the muscular arms of the man who rocks him gently in his arms. With golden hair like your son’s adorning the man’s shoulders, there is no doubt of who is holding your child.

Blue eyes land upon you, twinkling with mirth. Pouty, pink lips pull into a taunting smile.

“Hello, my love.”

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 10

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Fluff and Angst, I’m sorry. Probably a swear or two.

Word Count: 6,157 (I know!)

A/N: I know nothing about the lives of the Evans family and mean no harm. This is purely fiction and for fun. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! The tag list is now closed. Each chapter tends to get reblogged from me a few times, so if you’re following me, you can’t miss it. See additional note at the end.

*Italics are internal thoughts

Catch up with Chapter 9

**

A simple “I’m home” was texted to Chris when your feet hit your bedroom floor. You were slightly concerned you may have been too clingy about the “not seeing him again soon enough” comments you shared. What you really wanted to say was “I’m home and missing you already”, but you refrained. He replied with “glad you made it home safe, sweetheart”.

This was strange for you and you didn’t quite know what was going on with your emotions. With Ethan, it was all too much too soon. The spending nearly every day together was entirely too much. In the end, that relationship really made you lose sight of yourself. With Chris, your time together wasn’t nearly enough. And you couldn’t forget that fact that your relationship was undefined. It was new and not exclusive. You didn’t plan on seeing anyone else while you were seeing Chris, but did he feel the same way? You just needed to have the patience to see where it would go.

**

Before heading into work, you were stopping by Jana’s office to fill her in on your trip. She’d been busy as of late, more so than usual, so the two of you hadn’t seen much of each other. Up until today, you had successfully avoided Ethan on your two other trips to her office. Once by luck, and the second by careful planning. You hadn’t seen or talked to him since you ended it in your favorite coffee shop a couple of months back. It was still your favorite coffee shop, you just didn’t visit there on Sundays anymore. Jana had given you the heads up that she had already seen him that morning, so there was a chance of running into him as well. It was bound to happen sooner or later, might as well face the music now.

Grabbing two “I Love NY” coffee mugs from the shopping bag you picked up from the airport, you checked your reflection in the mirror once more before going to your car. In all honesty, you weren’t trying to look good for Ethan, not at all. But it didn’t hurt to look good in front of your ex. Besides, you really did have that new relationship and you just had sex glow going on.

**

“Could you be more cliché?” Jana asked, picking up one of the mugs.

“Most people would say thank you for the gift, Jana.”

“Thank you,” she says sarcastically, but offers you a smile.

You successfully made it from the lobby to her office without an Ethan sighting. Although, you kind of wanted to get the first run-in over with. You didn’t plan on ending your friendship with Jana despite her less than thrilled response to the souvenir you brought back, so you were bound to see him. Wasn’t like he was leaving the firm anytime soon now that he was partner.

“I don’t have Fifth Avenue money, woman. Besides, wasn’t like we did a lot of shopping. Figured that it was a classic New York souvenir,” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

“I really do appreciate it. It’s cute,” she said sincerely. “Besides, you know how much Brooks loves collecting coffee mugs.”

“Hence why I got you each one,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Suppose you didn’t leave the room much anyway.” Her eyebrows raising and lips forming a smug smile.

You leaned over her desk, smacking her arm lightly. Wasn’t like you were Instagramming all weekend. She apparently could read your mind.

“No comment,” you replied, leaning back in your seat, your arms crossing over your chest.

“You do know that no comment is admitting guilt?” she asked.

“Who says I feel guilty?” you replied.

“Good for you. Really, Y/N. I’m happy for you.”

You nodded and smiled slightly.

“It was a nice getaway. He makes me happy,” you said honestly. “I just feel so comfortable around him, you know? I mean of course, I was nervous. You know that. But when we’re together, it’s just nice.”

“It’s probably because you guys were friends first. You already had that existing comfortability.” She leans back in her chair with a soft smile. “That’s really great. When do you think you’ll see him again?”

That was the million dollar question.

You licked your lips and then chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Um. That’s a really good question and I’m still trying to work that out.”

“Well, hopefully soon.”

“I don’t disagree,” you replied.

**

You made it to the elevator with no Etahn sightings. Grabbing your phone out of your purse, you saw you had a text from Chris.

Chris: I like me better when I'm with you I knew from the first time, I'd stay for a long time 'cause I like me better when I like me better when I'm with you

“How does he even know that song?” you asked to yourself.

Y/N: You know that song?

Y/N: And I like me better when I’m with you too. 😘

Chris: It was on your phone. Played it a couple of times when I was at your house.

He’s got quite the memory.

Pressing the call button for the elevator, you wait patiently for it to arrive. There was one problem though, you couldn’t get out of your own head. It was going to become more difficult the more time passes without seeing Ethan. You didn’t want to be nervous every time you came to visit Jana. It was silly really; you had known Ethan over a year before you started to date. Taking a deep breath, you turned around and walked to his office.

He didn’t notice you at first. His eyes glued to his computer monitor while his pointer finger scrolls endlessly on the mouse. His door is open but you definitely feel like you’re intruding.

Just knock already! Say something!

“Knock. Knock,” you said while literally knocking on his door.

I’m such a dork.

“Y/N!” he blurts out. His face is one of surprise but he quickly straightens it and gives you a polite smile. “Please come in.”

“I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Just the usual.”

Surprisingly it isn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. Of course, Ethan is a lawyer and can keep a straight face when he needs to, so if he’s nervous, he isn’t showing it.

“I just haven’t seen you, so I wanted to say hi. Was just visiting Jana and on my way out,” you said in a rush.

Okay, so maybe this is awkward.

“What have you been up to?” he asks tentatively.

You’re still standing slightly in the doorway which is adding to your unease. Gesturing with your hand to one of the two chairs in front of his desk, he quickly nods. You sit down and you feel slightly better even though you are much closer to him now.

“I’ve been good. I’m doing more stories for the online edition of the paper lately and a few have been picked up nationally which is great.”

“That’s really great, Y/N,” he replied.

It’s sincere and you’re happy he’s lost that cocky demeanor he used give you before you were together. One fear of yours was that he’d put on the show again. Despite being together for only a couple of months, he really opened up to you during that time.

“How about you?” you asked.

“Good. Great actually. Works been busy but we’ve brought on quite a few clients. Busy is good.”

“I’m really glad,” you said. “So..”

“So, are you seeing anyone?” he asked.

Back to awkward then. You hesitated for a moment.

“Do you really want to talk about that?”

“Sorry. We don’t have to,” he replied. “Seen any good movies lately?”

You chuckled and then told him about the nature series you’d been watching on Disney+.

Were the two of you going to be best friends? No, but you never were and that was fine. At least now you felt that if you ran into Ethan, pleasantries could be given without running the other way.

**

For years, your boss has encouraged you to attend a writing conference. Every year you find an excuse not to go. Well, you went once, maybe six years ago, but you just hadn’t gone back. They were paid for by the paper except for food and spending money. That wasn’t the problem. Attending a conference took time away from your job. They were usually held in a ballroom at a hotel that had you holed up for hours, never allowing you to see the sun. And since they ran up until the time for you to fly home, it didn’t make much sense for you to travel to another city to attend one and never actually see the city. That is until you thought about seeing Chris. You could easily enough have your ticket extended to allow an additional night or two in order to spend time with Chris if you could get your schedules line up.

There were three upcoming conferences you could attend; Cincinnati, Los Angeles, and St. Paul.

You grabbed your phone and fired off a text to Chris figuring you’d bring it up to him before suggesting it to your boss.

Y/N: Any chance you’ll be in LA the week of August 2nd?

The conference was being held August fifth through the seventh which was a Friday. Staying until Sunday evening would make it a short weekend, but time together was still time together.

Chris: The short answer is yes. Taking a quick look at my calendar I have nothing scheduled, so I could be in LA then. What’s going on?

Y/N: I have to talk to my boss, but possible work conference. I’d be free the weekend though.

Chris: More time with you? I’m sold.

“I’m falling fast,” you whispered to yourself.

The truth was, you had already fallen and it scared you to death. If this were any other guy, it wouldn’t be as scary. You’d been in love once before but it ended on bad terms and you’d been afraid to give your heart away ever since. You were never in love with Ethan, but the relationship was rushed and you fell into it easily. But this was Chris. The two of you would never have a normal relationship and that’s what made you hesitant. If you were having a bad day, you couldn’t call him to come over. You couldn’t crawl into bed with him after working on a story late into the night. He couldn’t stop by to watch a movie with you. This was long distance to the extreme.

Chris: I still feel bad last weekend fell through.

Chris planned on flying into Orlando to spend a few days at your place, but something came up and he had to cancel. Sure, it was a little bit of a letdown, but his life was busy and he was in demand, you couldn’t fault him for that. You had seen him a couple of weeks prior so it hadn’t even been that long.

Y/N: Baby, it’s fine. Honestly. Hoping August works out. I should know soon.

While you and Chris still hadn’t discussed the status of your relationship, it had kicked into high gear. He was texting you more often, usually with sweet words and telling you that he missed you. Some of the texts had reached into that R rated category which made you blush, especially if you were out with friends or at work. There were no nudes exchanged or anything like that; neither of you trusted the security of your phones completely. But there were a few occasions that you needed to call him right after receiving one of those messages.

You fired off an e-mail to your boss explaining that you wanted to go to a conference next month. You gave him the dates and asked for approval. Now you just needed to wait.

**

It was quarter to midnight and you were in bed reading Circe. Looking to expand your reading beyond the latest Disney news as well as the articles published in your employer’s paper, you joined a book club a friend from college started. You were determined to finish the thing on time for once, even if it cut into your normal viewing of the late-night talk shows.

Just as you were getting into a flow with the chapter, your phone rang. Scott had impeccable timing. You had already had your almost nightly phone call with Chris, and no one else besides Scott dared to call you so late.

“Good evening Grumpy. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You seem to be in a fine mood. What’s got you so cheery?” he asked.

“Let me guess. You’ve talked to your brother?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Unfortunately, I know you both too well at this point. Might as well end the friendship now since there’s nothing new to learn,” you sassed.

“You’re such a brat!” Scott groaned. “Yes, I talked to my brother. It’s how we do.”

“Ahuh. I know you can’t see me, but I’m sticking my tongue out at you.” And you did.

“So, tell me about the trip,” Scott said in a cheery voice.

God, you loved Scott. You could give him shit and he could give it right back but at the end of the day, you both loved each other.

“Well, nothing’s official. I still need to wait for my boss to approve the trip and for the admin to confirm my travel. But if all goes well, I’ll be able to see Chris for a few days. So, hopefully.”

“I’m sure it will all work out,” Scott replied.

“Any chance you’ll be in town that weekend?”

“Maybe. I’ll have to check with Zach,” he said.

“Ooooh! Do I maybe get to meet the famous Zach?”

“Maybeee. If you’re good,” he replied.

“Hey! I’m always good.”

“Ahuh. Moving on,” he said dismissing you.

“You realize, if this all works out, this will be the first time the three of us will be hanging out.”

“That’s not entirely true. The day we met, Chris was there,” Scott reminded you.

“Yeah, but barely. I think he said hi to me and that’s about it,” you chuckled.

“My how the times have changed,” he laughed out.

**

Much to your delight, you had an e-mail from your boss approving the conference by the time you made it to the office. You quickly typed out an e-mail to your boss’ admin Patty, asking that she extend your flight until Sunday, but advised you wouldn’t need a hotel for those additional days.

Y/N: Guess who’s coming to LA in a couple of weeks?!

You spun around in your chair much to enjoyment of your co-workers.

“Sorry, just got some good news,” you said, smile on full display to Allie and Erin who looked on.

Your phone buzzed in your hand with a text from Chris.

Chris: Baby, that’s great!

In about two weeks, you’d be seeing Chris again. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you tried. Granted you had to attend three days of lectures and small group discussions, but you get to see Chris! You made a promise to yourself to try to enjoy the conference and learn something from it. By doing so, you would award yourself by being in the company of a man you really liked. It was well worth the reward.

Chris: We are so going to Disneyland.

You smiled at his response. The two of you really belonged together, at least you felt that way.

Y/N: Anything you want. Just excited to spend time with you.

Chris: I feel the same way. I’ll call you later.

**

Always the last-minute packer, you stood in your closet two nights before your flight to California starring at the clothes you no longer deemed good enough for such a trip. It was silly really, you wore business casual daily, even owned a couple of suits. Then your weekend with Chris, besides the trip to Disneyland, you probably wouldn’t be wearing much clothes. You smirked at that thought. It was a nice one to have and you hoped it played out that way.

Y/N: What should I pack for a writer’s conference?

Jana traveled a lot for work and her style was always impeccable. If you were going to trust anyone to help you pack, you’d trust her.

Jana: You’re not packed yet?

Y/N: Have you met me? Best friend of seven years.

Jana: I’m coming over, but we’re drinking after.

You could handle that so you quickly agreed to her deal. Who were you to argue with a high-powered attorney?

**

Jana’s idea of drinking was not from the bottle of vodka you kept in your freezer. No, she made you put on actually pants and leave the house. The sweats you were wearing were name brand, you did not see the problem. The central air in your house was set to ice cube, so you often lounged in sweat pants even in the dead of summer. Neither of you wanted to drive far for a drink, so you settled on a nearby chain restaurant with a bar. You were always down for chips and salsa with your margarita.

With chips stuffed to capacity in your mouth, Jana chooses that moment to ask your relationship status. As if she doesn’t already know.

“There’s no status, at least not yet,” you said, hand covering your mouth to avoid any crumbs from escaping.

“Do you think you guys will discuss it?” she asked, popping an overflowing salsa covered chip in her mouth.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I would like to talk about us, at least come up with a definition. Are we just having fun? Is this friend’s with benefits and I just don’t know it? Are we dating? Is he seeing other women?”

“And you have the right to ask that. What do you want it to be?”

“That’s a really good question,” you answered honestly. “I’m realistic about this whole thing, at least I’m trying to be.” Taking a sip from the frozen concoction in the oversized glass, you really thought about what you wanted. It wasn’t hard to figure out. “If we can make it work, I’d like to say that we’re together exclusively. I just don’t know if it’s too soon or if he’s not on the same page. I know he cares about me. He’s said it.”

Jana nodded along to your reasoning, stealing a few sips from her own glass. She set her glass down, placing her chilled hand over yours. “Be honest with him.”

You gave her a small smile and nodded in agreement.

**

The flight to Los Angeles was longer than you expected. Summer storms didn’t help with the time or the comfort of the flight. Patty was nice enough to get you a window seat since you hated having to let the others in your row out ever time they wanted to get up. But since it rained through the first half of the flight, you kept the window shade lowered.

Patty booked you at the Hilton Los Angeles in Glendale where the conference was being held. At least this way you didn’t have to pay for transportation to and from the conference each day, but once again it proved your point that you would never see the city. Hopefully Chris would be up for a drive this weekend so you could see some of the sights. You’d been to California twice. Once on a family vacation to San Diego when you were a kid and a trip to Disneyland with your dad shortly after your parents got divorced.

After settling into your room and doing a quick Google search for a place to grab dinner, you sent Chris a text to let him know you were in. The two of you discussed him joining you, your first night, but he wouldn’t be in town until late and the conference started bright and early the next morning. You wouldn’t have much time to see him in the evenings after each session, so you needed to deal with waiting until Friday like originally planned.

Y/N: I’m here. Lots of storms on the way out, so my nerves are pretty shot. Text me when you get settled at home.

Dinner was quick at Italian deli a few blocks away. You picked up a couple of snack sized bags of chips and freshly made rice krispie treats to bring back to the room. You almost let the guy at the counter talk you into a giant pickle, but you’d figure somehow the packaging would open and you have a mess in your room. Smelling like a pickle wasn’t the impression you wanted to make tomorrow morning.

Chris didn’t text until close to three in the morning. You’d kept the volume on your phone up when you started to fall asleep around eleven. You really wanted to make sure you received that goodnight text from him. The thought of it coming in at three in the morning and him being drunk off his ass didn’t cross your mind.

Chris: Baby!

Chris: You in my 2nd state home

Chris: 2nd home state

Chris: So drunk

Chris: Miss you

While you were glad he texted, you were a little pissed that he waited until the early hours of the morning to do so. A quick goodnight would have been great before he got drunk. Deciding that arguing with a drunk person didn’t get you anywhere, you put your phone on silent and went back to sleep.

On your lunch break, you sent Chris a text, but kept it simple. You almost called him before your eight AM welcome breakfast, but you knew he’d still be sleeping at that time.

Y/N: Hope you’ve slept off that hangover.

The morning sessions hadn’t been as bad as you imagined they would be. You met a couple of great people during your first breakout session and already agreed to drinks in the hotel bar later. Brooks had sent you a message that one of the senior writers from his new employer was there as well. He had given her your name and you promised to keep an eye out for her name tag since he hadn’t scheduled a meet up between the two of you.

You were already wrapping for the day before you were able to check your phone again. Chris had sent a text around two in the afternoon.

Chris: I’m so sorry about that. A buddy picked me up from the airport and we went out.

Chris: Hope your first day is going well.

Scott had also sent a text to check in with you. A week after the two of you discussed all being together in California, he let you know your schedules wouldn’t line up as he would be in New York that week. You were bummed but you knew you’d make it work eventually.

After a quick elevator ride to your room, you called Chris before changing into comfy clothes for drinks with your new friends.

“Hey,” Chris drawled out.

“Hey yourself. Just got done for the day.”

“How was it?” he asked.

“It was a lot better than I figured. A couple of really great journalists are presenting each afternoon, so I’m learning a thing or two. Most of it is pretty inspirational.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said.

“Me too. I’m actually meeting a couple of ladies I met today for drinks in the hotel bar before I crash tonight.”

“Speaking of drinks,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m really sorry about last night.”

“You mean this morning,” you corrected.

You heard him let out a sigh. “Yeah, this morning. I apologize for texting to so late and for being a drunken idiot.”

You laughed lightly at his response. “It’s fine babe, just maybe text me before you start drinking next time.”

“Absolutely,” he chuckled. “Do I need to worry about late night drunken texts from you tonight?”

“Nope. Technically I’m working, so two and I’m done. Besides, don’t need to embarrass myself in front of people in my industry. There may be a lot of people employed in this field, but word travels fast. Before you can blink, I’ll be known as the drunko from Orlando.”

“The drunko from Orlando. I like it.”

“You would,” you chided. “But listen, I need to get ready.”

“Have fun, but not too much. I’ll be sure to keep a look out for drunko from Orlando trending on Twitter.”

“You’re such a brat. Lucky, I like you,” you replied.

“I could say the same sweetheart.”

“Two more days,” you muttered. “Two more days until I can kiss those lips to get you to be quiet.”

“That all you’re gonna do?”

“While I would love to delve into this conversation further, I need to get going,” you sighed out.

“Alright beautiful. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Chris said.

“Night handsome.”

**

You were on your second vodka sour, heavy on the lime, of course, when a woman had stopped at your table of three and smiled brightly at you.

“Are you Y/N? Y/N Y/L/N?”

You laughed nervously, might have been the drinks. “Yes,” you drawled out.

“I’m Asia Williams. I work with Brooks,” she said, offering you her hand.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you replied, standing up to firmly shake her hand.

“Brooks had sent me a picture of you. Don’t worry, it was flattering,” she said with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you. Would you like to join us?”

She looked down at your companions and then back to you. “I won’t be imposing?”

The other two ladies shook their heads.

“No, not at all. We all just meet today so we’re just getting to know each other,” you replied.

After introductions, Asia ordered a glass of white wine and chatted with the other women.

It was about nine when the other two ladies said goodnight. You all had ordered appetizers to munch on in place of dinner and you found yourself still picking at the humus and carrots, trying your best not to speak with your mouth full.

“I looked you up. Occupational habit,” Asia said, ducking her head slightly. “I really loved your piece on education in the climate change era.”

“You read that?” you asked, slightly embarrassed. It was one of those pieces that was really outside your norm, but you felt compelled to write after watching a nature documentary that you tended to get wrapped up in. “I know it got picked up by a few outlets, but I never hear feedback on my non entertainment pieces.”

“It was great. You actually have quite a few great stories in your portfolio. Ever think about writing that fulltime?”

The truth was, you had. You loved writing entertainment, it was fun and it barely felt like work most days. You however longed to be taken seriously outside your immediate area. The challenge of writing outside your comfort zone was thrilling and you often longed for that feeling again weeks after a story was published.

“Uh, yes, actually. It is something I’ve been thinking about. But I’m also hesitant because I’ve been writing entertainment for years. Even before I started working at the Sentinel, I worked the local beat for smaller papers. It’s a little intimidating. Kind of scary to go from being kind of a big fish to a small fish,” you answered honestly.

“Listen. Brooks is a big fan of yours and after reading quite a few of your stories, I am too. I’m going to leave you with my card. When you’re ready, give me a call. I’d like to bring you on.”

You’re sure you looked like a cartoon character at that moment because your eyes couldn’t possibly be any larger than they were. She stood up and you followed suit.

“Thank you. Are you based in Orlando?” you asked.

“No, I’m in New York. We have writers all over the country. If Orlando isn’t for you, you don’t have to stay there. We don’t offer a moving budget, but do offer a large signing bonus that many have taken advantage of. No pressure. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.”

“Likewise. I’ll be in touch. And I’m sure I’ll see you at the conference,” you said with a smile.

Lots to think about. But that would need to wait.

**

Thursday kept you busy with non-stop breakout sessions. You had to switch tables at least three times and ended up with a table full of sports writers at the end of the day. You were never one to follow sports outside of school, so you mostly just nodded and pretended to understand what they were discussing.

Rather than going back to your room to change, you decided to walk to the deli for dinner first. You picked out a small table against the window and dug out your phone while you waited for your sandwich to be finished.

Y/N: I’m so excited!

Y/N: See you soon!

Chris would be picking you up promptly at three tomorrow afternoon. The hotel would hold your luggage after you checked out that morning to attend the final day of the conference. The last session was scheduled to end at two thirty, so you’d have a half hour to grab your luggage to change and freshen up.

Rather than text back, Chris was calling you instead.

“Hey you,” you answered.

“Hey sweetheart. Are you all done for the day?”

“Yep, just grabbing dinner from a deli down the street. I’ll probably watch a movie on my iPad and pack when I get back. I’m so excited to see you tomorrow.”

You heard him let out a big sigh.

“Somethings come up. I’ve a, I’ve got a meeting with a director tomorrow night. My agent set it up. It’s for a huge movie that they’re considering me for which is why it’s important I take the meeting.”

“So, so, I’ll just hangout at your place while you’re at the meeting? Do you need me to Uber to your place?”

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out. “Listen baby, the meeting is in New York, so I actually have to fly back out East tomorrow morning. It’s not going to work out this trip.”

Your heart hit your stomach.

I will not cry in public. I will not cry in public.

“Oh,” you said, it was the best you could muster.

“Sweetheart I’m so sorry. If I could move it I would.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “I’ll a, I’ll set you up in any hotel you’d like. Have a car bring you there until your flight on Sunday.”

Oh right, my flight’s not until Sunday.

“Um.” You had to think for a moment. “No, no,” you said softly. “I’ll just change my flight to tomorrow night or early Saturday.”

“Y/N, I don’t want you to have to scramble to change your travel plans. Do you want to go to Disneyland still? I’m sure I could get you a room at the Disneyland Hotel. You could make a story out of it, comparing the two parks.”

He was trying, you had to give him that. It sounded like a good story idea, but your head wasn’t in it. You were just so disappointed at the moment that all you wanted to do was go home and get into your bed.

“That’s really sweet, but um, I think I rather just go home. My foods here so I’m gonna eat and then head back to the room. I’ll a, I’ll call you later.”

He groaned slightly. “Please call me when you get back to the room. I want to talk about this more.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll call you. Bye Chris.”

“Bye.”

You numbly picked at your sandwich while you checked the airlines app regarding change fees. You didn’t want to stay in Los Angeles, not alone anyway. There goes your plan about defining your relationship. The reasonable part of your brain tried to reason that this was his job and sometimes you have to make sacrifices for work, but the part of you that was falling more and more for Chris each day wanted to be selfish.

Chris had texted you at some point during your walk back to the hotel. You fished your phone out of your purse once you kicked off your shoes and laid down on the bed.

Chris: I’m so sorry

Y/N: It’s fine

Chris: Don’t do that.

You could see that he was typing something out, but you clicked out of the text and back to the airline’s application. There was a flight out at six tomorrow night, you figured you could leave the session a little early and request an Uber to the airport. Before you could change your mind, you changed the flight, accepting the one-hundred-dollar change fee.

Rather than looking at the text, you called Chris back since you promised you would.

The phone rang only once before he was answering.

“Are you mad? I feel like your mad.”

“Hi to you too,” you replied. “I’m not mad. I’m disappointed.”

“I know. I am too. Trust me,” he insisted.

“What time’s your flight tomorrow?”

“Early, around seven I think.”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “This is twice Chris. Work is important and I’m not going to be one of those girls that wants to be put as a priority, but I don’t have the capacity to just take off and come meet you whenever. I can’t go to another conference for a year. This just sucks.”

“I know. I know!” he growled. “I’m coming over.”

“You’re what?” You started to do the math in your head. With traffic, he wouldn’t make it to your hotel for at least an hour, maybe two. It was already late. Then he’d have to turn around and go back to his place to get some sleep before going to the airport before dawn. “Babe, don’t. There just isn’t time. When would you sleep?”

“You’re right. You’re right. Please let me set you up somewhere nice. We’ll book a couple of spa treatments. It could be a mini vacation for you,” he offered.

“I’ve already changed my flight. I just don’t feel like being here alone. But I appreciate it. Just promise me you’ll make time and come stay with me. I’ll have to work, but at least we’d have the mornings and the evenings.”

“We’ll do that and I’ll stay until you get tired of me. I’ll be your pool boy while you’re working.”

“God, you’re such a dork. How’d Scott put up with you all those years?”

“Ma’am, watch your lip. It was I that had to put up with him.”

“You can be my pool boy as long as that means you’re shirtless while I’m home,” you said.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

**

Walking into your house at midnight, you barely had enough energy to change into your pajamas. Settling for a t-shirt, you slipped under the covers and sent Chris a goodnight text.

Y/N: Back in Florida. Hope your meeting went well. Call me tomorrow sometime.

**

Waking up to a three text messages from your brother on a Saturday was pretty out of the norm. Granted it was almost noon.

Heath: Are you guys not together?

Heath: Call me when you wake up.

The third text was a direct link to TMZ. Clicking on the link brought you to an article titled Boozing It Up. Your phone screen was filled with pictures of Chris surrounded by bottles of beer and alcohol. He looked heavily intoxicated from what you could tell. A few pictures had who you assumed were friends holding him up. In one picture, a woman had herself draped across his lap with her arms around his neck. One of his hands was resting on her lower back, close to her butt while the other held a bottle of beer.

That talk defining your relationship was apparently not needed. Now you knew. You were just a girl he was seeing. You definitely were not exclusive. Didn’t mean it was any easier to swallow. You were in your thirties and really thought you’d left casual dating behind in your twenties.

Your phone started to ring in your hand.

Chris.

You hit the decline button. Wanting to take a chance to breathe and center yourself. You weren’t exclusive. You shouldn’t even be upset. Neither of you talked about what you were to each other. He said he cared about you and you cared about him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s not allowed to care about someone else. Or more than one someone.

Chris: Please call me before you read anything today.

Chris: Some photos came out, but I want to explain myself.

**

A/N: I’m sorry! Just know I am a happy endings girl.

Chapter 11

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[permanentcrossfics]

Blurred Lines: An English Christmas // h.s.

Late because life is messy sometimes, but I hope you enjoy regardless. x

“It’s New Years,” you protested.

“It’ll still be a new year tomorrow, they can see us then.”

You wanted to argue but somehow you couldn’t find the strength. The next thing you knew, he was counting down next to your ear, quietly, breath warm on your skin.

“Ten… nine… eight….”

So many things had changed this year. When the last one had rolled around, you’d been alone, drunk, wondering if it was appropriate to text your international musician bootycall a happy new year and petrified of how he might take it. Now, said bootycall had turned boyfriend and he’d all but begged you to spend the holidays with him, and there you were, tucked in his car with his family inside.

“Five, four—“

“I love you.”

“Two,” mixed with a laugh, his hand was already on your cheek and you just caught sight of his eyes. “One… happy new year!”

Read NOW on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

Right around the time he’d been in the city for SNL, the first of the deep freeze spells had claimed the city. It was the type of cold that froze your knuckles stiff if you didn’t pull your gloves on before going outside, and sometimes even if you did. Sixth Avenue and Rockefeller Plaza were transformed from when he’d been there just over a month ago  — the tree was lit in all its glory, though you did your best to steer clear. Pickpocketing did not a holly, jolly Christmas make. 

Standing on 34th street, you took a deep breath, eyes stinging as you took in the Macy’s display. Just the wind, you told yourself. And yet, the ache that accompanied it stayed even when you were tucked inside your place, the little faux Christmas tree in the corner twinkling away, merry and bright. 

Just about a month ago, you’d been in bed together, A Christmas Carol on in the background while you’d straddled him and he’d chased the kisses he was so in demand of. 

“You’re crazy,” you’d sighed when he’d made his suggestion into your neck. 

“An English Christmas,” he’d said. “Met Jeffrey and that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Manager and mum are different animals.” You’d massaged his scalp, gently finger combing his curls. “But I did like how surprised he was.”

Harry had chuckled and pulled back to beam up at you. “Yeah, me too. So, what say we do that again?”

Sighing but smiling, you’d cupped his cheeks. “Flights are through the roof by now,” you’d said stroking the smooth patches above his stubble. “And Christmas in New York—“

“I know, I’ve seen it,” he’d said. “But Christmas in England….” He’d puckered his lips and you’d granted him a kiss. “Ice skating at Winter Wonderland....”

“Ice skating at Bryant Park,” you’d countered and he’d chuckled. 

“Mulled wine by the fire.”

“Cocoa over a subway grate.”

“Me.”

He’d smiled softly when your breath hitched and you’d blinked. “Me,” you’d whispered and he’d tightened his hold around your waist. 

“Fair point, that is.”

He’d left before you’d come to a resolution — a flurry of coats and scarves, your pajama pants slung low on your hips and toes freezing in your slippers as you kissed him goodbye outside your building and next to his car.

“Miss you.” Kiss. “Love you.” Kiss kiss. 

“I love you, too.” You’d squeezed him closer, seized with the idea to grab on tight enough he wouldn’t be able to go. He’d pulled back, though, and cupped your cheeks with another kiss.

“Merry Christmas.” He’d grinned lightheartedly, but he’d knocked the wind out of you. You hadn’t said a word back when he got in the car and you watched him drive off, shivering on the sidewalk. 

The closer you got to Christmas, the worse it was, and worse still because you felt silly to feel so… sad. You’d been apart last year! But last year… things had been different. Your world was smaller, and now everything was bigger. You together were bigger. He’d asked you to spend Christmas with his family. 

Too late and too close, though. You’d looked — you had to at least take a look, didn’t you? — and everything that turned up that didn’t have a twelve hour layover somewhere was thousands. He’d pay for it if you mentioned, but that wasn’t right, or fair, and it shouldn’t be expected of him just because he could. 

Christmas in New York had never felt so blue. 

The change of the wind happened very fast, then. Christmas music tinkled in the background in an effort for you to feel festive, and you were hanging new ornaments on your tree when your phone buzzed and an alert appeared. You squinted, gasping when you read it before it disappeared, and you nearly dropped Santa on his head in your haste to fumble with your phone. 

“Harry,” you breathed. “Harry, Harry—“ 

It took ages for him to answer his phone — in reality, no longer than seventeen seconds, but when it could disappear at any moment….

You’d just about given up on him answering when it stopped and you took a deep breath. “Hey. What’s happening?”

“I’m ok,” you said. “Busy? Did I wake you?”

“It’s only half ten,” he said. “I’m at Mum’s. Eating some cheese, sitting by the—“

“If I asked you—“ You covered your mouth but stuffed back the apology for cutting him off and inhaled deeply, fingers shaking. “If I asked you to pick me up at the airport, could you?”

“What? When?”

“There’s a deal for Christmas Eve,” you said. “I could… I’d stay through the new year, if… I mean, I can change the dates to see the price, but—“

In the most romantic corner of your mind, you’d nursed the idea of staying through and ringing in the new year together, but for all you knew, in the absence of your plans he’d made his own.

“Where? Here?”

“Manchester, yes,” you said, throat sticking. God, what if you were too late? “Unless London—“

“No!” 

Immediate and vehement, you heard a distant voice. “Harry? Everything ok, love?”

“Fine, Mum, m’—“ He cleared his throat. “Fine.” Lowering his voice, he asked, “Christmas Eve?”

“Through New Years, if… if you don’t have plans.”

“No, plans, no… just… I was eating cheese, I—“

You laughed softly. 

“When did you decide—?”

“I’ve been watching it since you were here.” You gulped, short of breath in your excitement. “I didn’t think anything would happen, though, it’s so last minute, and so… I mean, I know you have—“

“What about your plans?” he asked. 

“I’ll change them.” Immediate and without thought, the words flew out of your mouth, and you went hot all over. “I mean, I’ll figure it out — this is a great opportunity, isn’t it? An English Christmas?”

“It’ll be enough to make you want to move here.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said. “So, Christmas Eve? I’ll book it.”

“You haven’t?” he asked. “Why—?”

“I wanted to check!” 

“Why would I say no?”

“Shut up.”

Harry chuckled and you smiled despite yourself. “Good thing you’re coming,” he said. “Gem’s been nagging me. Saying I’m a Scrooge.”

“I’ll send you the flight info when I get it, and I’ll book a hotel—”

“What? No,” he said. “You’re staying here.”

Your stomach dropped. “I don’t want to step on—”

“Not stepping on anything. You’ll stay here, Mum’ll be fine with it. We can sleep in my room, it’s—” His breath hitched. “It’s fine, love.” 

Tingles made your fingers jittery and you swallowed hard. “If you’re sure,” you said. “I’d like that.”

“D’like it, too.” Silence lingered for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Right, go book that ticket, otherwise we haven’t got anything to plan.”

***

I’m going to be late.

The first glimpse of Manchester you had was of it covered in snow. Large flakes fell in slow motion, and a thin layer of slush coated the asphalt as you shivered on the pavement waiting for Harry’s car to pull up. 

He’d messaged you while you were on the flight warning that he was running behind schedule and the snow would have everyone on the road losing their minds. You’d told him not to worry — a weather delay out of New York had kept you grounded, so however late he was, he would be right on time. Now, though, waiting for him, you wondered if you shouldn’t have kept that bit of information to yourself to try to keep him on schedule.

Just when you were about to go back inside, fingers and knees trembling from cold and inexplicable nerves, you locked eyes on a pair of headlights growing closer and brighter on a car that had become quite familiar to you some months ago. It slowed, and just after it came to a stop, the door opened and a head of dark curly hair emerged followed by broad shoulders and long limbs. 

“Told you I’d be late,” he said.

Chortling under your breath, you quieted when he embraced you, warmed immediately, and you dug your nails into his shoulders, breathing deeply. Christmas. “You kept me waiting long enough,” you murmured without venom, squeezing him closer. 

“Could say the same about you.” He kissed the side of your head and you finally broke the embrace, fumbling to hand your bags over to him. He made quick work of storing them in his boot while you hurried around the opposite side of the car, and when he joined you inside, he rubbed his hands. 

“Right. Where’re we going?”

“You’re not funny.”

Harry chuckled and fastened his seatbelt. 

It was a long while of winding roads and peering out the window at the passing scenery before you mustered up the courage to ask, “So, what do they know?” 

“Who?” Harry tilted his head your way but kept his eyes on the road. “Mum and Gem?”

“Yeah.”

He was silent at first and your stomach dropped. “Gem already sniffed out something was up… but Mum was a bit caught off guard. Dunno if I’d call her surprised, though.”

“I can stay somewhere—“

“Don’t be silly.” He grabbed your hand. “It’s not even an issue.”

“I don’t want to just barge in—“

“You’re not barging, I’m kidnapping you,” he said. “Holding you hostage in my mother’s house.”

You forced a smile and he glanced at you. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he said. “Mum would let anyone in.”

“So, I’m not all that special?”

“Not one bit.”

Laughing, you said, “That’s better, then.”

Still, when the car slowed and turned into a driveway, your heart felt like it was going to beat its way through your chest, and it just about stopped when he announced, “We’re home.”

He led the way to the door with you on his heels and he pushed it open without fishing for keys. Warmth and the smell of something sweet slammed into you, and you stood there in shock as he maneuvered around you to close the door. 

“Sorry!” you said in a hushed tone and he smirked at you.

“S’ok—“

“Harry?” A voice called through the house — warm and inquisitive — and muted footsteps followed.

“Yeah?” he called back. “Who else?”

Footsteps grew louder and seconds later a woman slightly shorter than him with wide eyes, a pointed nose, and hair so dark it was nearly jet black appeared, wiping her hands on a garish Christmas hand towel. 

“Hello.” She smiled and held her hand out, leaning in for a quick kiss on the cheek when you shook it. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Mum, this is….” Harry jerked his thumb at you. “And this is my mum, Anne.”

“It’s good to meet you,” you said. “It’s so—” You gulped. “Thank you for having me.”  

She smiled warmly, but before you could say anything else, Harry hunched in front of you. 

“C’mon,” he said. “Take you upstairs….”

Suitcase in hand, he climbed the steps swiftly with you right behind him and rounded a corner into a room that was a time capsule of the late 2000s save for a few upgrades. It smelled almost exactly like his home in London, making it impossible to mistake who resided there. 

“Small,” he said, dropping your luggage on the floor. “But it’s only for a little bit.”

“It’s nice,” you said. “Cozy.” You nodded towards the posters on the wall, eyebrow arched high, and he colored instantly. 

“Dunno how to take them down,” he mumbled and you grinned. “C’mere.”

Gladly. You closed the short distance between you and practically melted into him, head on his shoulder and eyes closed. “Merry Christmas,” you whispered and he kissed your head. 

For the longest time, you stood there wrapped in each other, and it was only when you swayed that he rasped, “Must be tired.”

“I am,” you said, voice muffled. “But it’s earlier there than it is here.” 

“Did you sleep on the plane?”

You shook your head and he chuckled, kissing your head again. “Should sleep a bit.”

“It’s rude,” you said. 

“Then I’m rude all the time.”

“I should stay up,” you said. “Otherwise my schedule will be all off.”

“S’get comfortable, then.”

Shoes, coats, scarves, and his hat removed, you both trudged down the steps in socked feet. “Tea?” he offered and you nodded. “Go in there and sit down,” he said. “I’ll be right in.”

The living room was comfortable, with plush furniture and blankets. The fireplace was empty, but logs by it promised a fire later, and you perched on the edge of the sofa, glancing around curiously. 

“You must be Harry’s.”

Your spine nearly snapped when you turned on the sofa and met a pair of sharp, clear eyes under strong brows and framed by dark hair. 

“Something like that.”

Gemma — unmistakably her brother’s sister in the intensity of her stare if nothing else — swept around the side of the sofa, hand extended, and you stuck yours out, gasping when a blunt nail scraped your skin. “Sorry!” she said quickly. “Did I get you?”

“No, no,” you assured her. “I’m fine. It’s nice to meet you, I— I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Surprising,” Gemma said with a rueful smile, settling into an armchair. “That means he had to talk.” 

“He doesn’t do a lot of that, does he?” 

“Not really.” She pushed the sleeves on her jumper up her forearms. “He hasn’t really mentioned you much, I’m afraid, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Not a surprise when all things were considered, but you slid down a cliff in your mind, suddenly unsure of what you could say and what he’d want you to say. 

“What haven’t I done?” 

Harry shuffled slowly into the room, two mugs filled nearly to the brim in his hands. “Careful,” he warned when you reached for one. “S’hot, you’ll burn your fingers… let me put it down on the table.” He gingerly set them down to avoid spillage and he sighed when he straightened up. “What are you two talking about?”

“You,” Gemma said and you smiled slightly. “And how I didn’t know she existed until a week ago when you were being a Grinch.” 

“I wasn’t—” Harry whipped around to look at you, hair on his forehead and eyes intently focused. “We weren’t telling anyone, you know that.” 

“A Grinch?” You arched an eyebrow and he flushed. 

“He was a miserable sod,” Gemma confirmed. “Should’ve pitched him into the fire for kindling— ah ah!” Gemma leaned forward, eyes locked on something behind you, and snapped her fingers twice. “Stop that!”

Mreow.

You gasped and leaned away from the sound next to your ear, twisting your head and finding yourself practically nose-to-nose with a pair of green eyes that didn’t belong to the man in front of you. The black-and-white cat in question blinked, wide-eyed, but before either you or it could move, Harry scooped it up in his arms. “Dottie,” he heaved when it made an offended little noise. He scratched behind the ears before placing her on the ground. “Mum has cats,” he said sitting beside you. Dottie blinked at him before slinking back towards his legs. “Sorry about that.” 

“It’s fine — surprised me is all.” Harry slung his arm over your shoulder and you clasped your hands in your lap. 

“You’re not allergic, are you?” Gemma asked before turning her attention onto her brother. “She’s not, is she?” 

“She’s not.” Harry glanced down at you. “Are you?” 

Before you could answer, Anne walked in with a tray laden with sweets. “Biscuits, if you’d like them,” she said, setting them down on the coffee table. “Gemma, love, would you help me in the kitchen for a bit?”

“With what?”

Anne nodded towards the doorway and Gemma rolled her eyes but stood and followed her mother from the room, quiet, bickering whispers moving with them. 

“Jesus.” Harry sighed, eyes falling shut as he leaned back against the sofa. “S’not even Christmas yet.”

***

Christmas. The room was dark, cold, and so still you could almost hear Anne turning in her bed down the hall. Jet lag had gotten the better of you, and even though the sun was far from the horizon, you were wide awake. You didn’t even remember falling asleep — the last thing you were consciously aware of was begging off the Christmas Eve pub crawl and Harry declining in solidarity before ushering you off to bed. 

Now, Harry’s bare back was to you, throwing an absolutely sweltering degree of heat off, and his snores echoed and bounced off the wall. It wasn’t until you were peeling yourself out of your jeans that you’d realized you’d forgotten pajamas — you’d lobbed your rolled up socks at him when he’d waggled his eyebrows and lecherously commented about the convenience of that — and now, cold as the tip of your nose might be, your legs were burning up in a pair of his flannel bottoms and an old t-shirt that’d been repurposed for your use. 

Biting your lip, you struggled with the knotted string until you got it loose enough to pull on the elastic, and you lifted your hips, wriggling and holding your breath. “What’s…?”

The sheets rustled when Harry turned halfway and looked over his shoulder, face barely visible in the dark but hair clearly stuck out at odd angles. “What’s happening?”

“It’s hot,” you whispered, yanking his bottoms the rest of the way and sighing with relief when they slid down your thighs. 

“S’winter, the heat’s on,” he said.

“You’re on.”

So crammed was the bed that he nearly squashed your arm when he rolled over, and you kicked the bottoms off the rest of the way under the duvet just as he reached across you.

“What are you doing?” you wheezed, pushing against his chest. Seconds later, the glow of his phone illuminated the room and you caught sight of him squinting.

“It’s Christmas!” his hoarse whisper broke the darkness and you squeaked when he collapsed half on top of you and squeezed the breath from you. 

“Stop that,” you whispered back. “People are sleeping.” Harry burrowed his face in your neck and you squirmed. “Harry, you’re hot.”

“Don’t care, s’Christmas.”

It hit you on his second declaration. Christmas. Christmas in England, with your boyfriend, holed away in his childhood bedroom. “Merry Christmas.” You patted his arm. 

“It is.” He exhaled heavily against your skin. “M’glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you said into the darkness. You slid your fingers into his hair and pulled softly, turning your mouth to his when he lifted his head. The kiss was sweet if restrained and you shifted onto your side to deepen it just before he pushed you onto your back and settled over you, bed creaking with every wriggle of your bodies to maneuver the mattress. “What are you doing?” you asked between kisses. 

“Saying Merry Christmas.” Harry kneaded behind your knee gently and you held your breath. 

“We can’t.” You hoped you sounded like there was more heart in the words than you felt, but the follow up pull on the bottom of your sleepshirt  — a gentle, unassuming action — said otherwise. 

“Why not?” He pressed several puckering kisses to your cheek and you smiled despite yourself. 

“We’re in your mother’s house.”

“D’you think—?” Harry stopped abruptly. 

“Hmm?”

He pressed his nose into your jaw. “S’my Christmas present, innit?” he mumbled and you laughed under your breath as he sucked soft kisses under your ear. 

“Gemma’s next to us,” you sighed, and for a moment, that did make you take pause. His sister who’d only just met you most certainly did not want to hear her brother getting up to no good on Christmas morning. 

“She’s asleep!” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I heard her one year — it’d be pay back.” You snorted softly and he kissed your mouth several times. “Gonna be here for a week,” he murmured. “Not gonna say hello t’me the right way for a week?” 

“Can’t spend a week with me without having sex?” you whispered.

“Know that’s not true.” 

You rubbed the back of his neck and kissed his chin. “If you want.”

“I want,” he groaned. “I do, I want… f’you want.”

“I want,” you said, hands sliding in his hair. “I want— mmm.” He kissed you again, deeper, and you sighed into it, hiking your legs up around his waist. For the longest time it was just heavy, smacking kisses and wandering hands from both of you, seeking new skin and new places to touch and tease, with his groans and mumbles interjecting the harsh pattern of breathing you wove together. 

“Christ, I missed you.” He kissed your neck and your eyes rolled up. “How’s it been so long?”

“It’s been a month,” you said. “Just over—”

“So long.” He shook his head and rutted against you. “So fucking long, I can’t— I hate it.” You’ve had longer — much longer — but something about the way he’d said it had you aching, distance unbearable even though he was on top of you. “Kept me waiting, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, digging your fingers into his shoulders when his hand slipped up your sleepshirt, his breath hot on your neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m here, I’m here, I promise,” you babbled. “I’m here, come—” You drew his mouth back to yours for a kiss and his blunt fingernails scraped against your skin. “I’m here, baby,” you said between kisses. “I’m here, I’m here….” 

“Say it again.” He pulled your underwear, wrestling them down your hips and thighs. “Say it again, please—“

“Baby,” you sighed. “I’m here, baby, I’m here, baby, baby, baby….” 

Your throat closed up when he pressed against you and then inside of you, stretching you just a little uncomfortably and face pinching when he dropped his pelvis fully against yours, murmuring instructions for you to, “Breathe, take a deep breath, love....” He held perfectly still for a moment before he thrust sharply and you gasped when it punched the air from your lungs. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned under his breath. “Tight little thing, aren’t you?” 

Were you? Or was he big enough and had it actually been as long as he’d bellyached about? His next thrust was heavy and you squeezed your eyes shut, thighs shaking for a moment before they fell open farther. 

“That’s my girl.” Harry kissed your cheek, breathing you in with his next thrust. “God, you’re wet, too… don’t even have to try to get up to my balls, do I?”

“No… fuck, Ha—!”

“Shhh!” he urged you, mouth on the side of yours. “Have to be quiet, sweetheart, have to....” Whimpering, you grasped his shoulders, fingers slipping on his sweat-slicked skin. “D’get you on your hands and knees if I could,” he whispered. “Fucking bed’s so small….”

You hiccuped over a deep breath.

“Like gettin’ on your knees for me, don’t you?” he rumbled. “Makes you cum like no other when m’in your belly— fuck, d’you hear that? Hear us?” 

Mouth stretched, a tremor rolled through you and you tensed. Everything was so fucking hot and deep! 

“Good girl,” he said. “That’s better…. Good girl, nice and quiet.” 

“I missed you!” you whispered through a burning throat.

“Missed m’cock?”

“Missed your cock, missed y-you— ungh!” Your lips quivered  in a silent whimper. “You’ve been gone so long, you’ve—”

“I know.” He ground against you and you nearly cried out. “I know, darling, m’sorry, I won’t do it again… I won’t….” Harry groaned gutturally, then, and came to a short and sudden stop. 

“Harry…!” You gulped and pulled on his shoulders, hands sliding uselessly.

“Can’t….” He shuddered and his cock twitched in you. “I can’t… fuck….”

“You can,” you said. “You can, you—”

“M’gonna cum!” he hissed, exhaling slowly between trembling lips. “If I do,  I’m gonna—! Can’t, I can’t….”

“It’s your p-present,” you said, kissing the corner of his mouth. “It’s your… Harry….”

Face screwed up, he thrust short and quick, swearing under his breath, and seconds later streams of hot cum spurted inside you. Harry wheezed, shaking from head to toe, and he smothered apologies in your neck, pressing you into the mattress.

Short of breath, you clung to him and combed your fingers through his hair, rubbing his sweaty scalp and shushing him gently. “Quiet,” you reminded him, kissing his ear. “Have to be….”

A thunk against the wall behind the bed nearly startled you out of your skin and you stared at the ceiling, heart in your throat. 

“Are you done now?” a muffled, irritated voice rang out. Mortified, your jaw dropped. Oh, God….

Harry slapped the wall as snickers and conversation faded in and out behind it. 

“Shut it!” he rasped before quietly adding, “Not like you two haven’t….”

You pushed his chest and he grunted, but when he threw an arm around you, you squirmed. 

“Don’t!” you whispered. “I can’t believe you—”

“What?” 

***

When you woke again, the sun was struggling to break through the frosted window, the haziest beams breaking through as best they could to cast a little light in the room. Harry’s face was smashed against his pillow, mouth open, snoring softly and apparently exhausted from his midnight awakening. You yourself were sore, and you winced, sinking into the mattress when you remembered how that’d ended — it’d taken ten minutes of him muttering to ignore it, it’d be fine, everything was ok before you’d nodded off again. Squeaking, you rolled into him and pressed your face into his hair, breathing in deeply and only pulling back when he stirred. When he settled again, you slipped out from under the duvet and shivered when your feet landed on the cold wood floor. 

It wasn’t until you were halfway down the stairs, wrapped in his purple dressing gown, that you realized you weren’t alone on Christmas morning, but by then it was too late to scurry back to the bedroom. You braced yourself and counted to three before nimbly descending the rest of the way. Alone time with his family and all the questions that came with it was bound to happen eventually, and he adored his mother. As long as it wasn’t Gemma or her boyfriend just yet….

The kitchen was flooded with bright sunshine and the smells were as homey as they were mouthwatering — spicy, sweet, and savory, you took a deep breath. Anne moved from counter to counter, muttering to herself in an almost musical way as she referenced different cards, and your heart just about leapt into your throat when you opened your mouth. “Good morning.”

Anne turned, and, eyebrows high, she smiled. “Good morning, love. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” you said, dry lips cracking with your own smile. 

“Sleep well?”

You nodded, scratching your elbow and shifting in place. “You?”

“I did, I did— have a seat,” she gestured to a stool by the island and you tiptoed towards it to perch atop. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Please,” you said and Anne quirked an eyebrow with an amused little smile.

“Which one?”

Oh. 

“Either,” you said, hot under the collar. “Whichever you— tea,” you decided upon spying her own milky cup. 

“It’s nice of you to join me,” she said as she set about making it. “I’m always the first up on Christmas. Think I’m more excited than they are — at least ever since they found out about Santa. Sugar?”

“No, thank you.”

“Milk?”

You shook your head with a shy smile and she smiled — approvingly, unless you’d imagined it — and set the mug in front of you. “Take it like he does.”

“Thank you,” you murmured. The mug was warm to the touch and you held it, breathing in the steam wafting from it. “Is it nice? Having everyone home?”

Anne paused, a warm, sentimental glint in her eye. “It is. It’s chaotic, and loud, but a full home is a happy heart. It’s good to have my babies home.”

“Thank you,” you said. “For letting me stay with you and for having me—”

She waved her hand. “We’re happy to have you — all of us, really, especially Harry. Night and day compared to how he was before. I think he’d have come around by now, maybe, but not as much.” 

“Still,” you said. “I don’t think I’ve had the chance to tell you I appreciate it.”

“Haven’t had a chance to say much at all!” Anne agreed. “He’s always around — it’s like he’s afraid we’ll bite your head off. Have you ever had a Christmas away from home?”

A pang hit your chest but you cleared your throat. “No… first one. He promised me an English Christmas.”

Winking, Anne said, “Think we can manage that for you. You’ll never want another.”

You took a tentative sip of the hot tea.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Your eyes watered when you swallowed the scalding mouthful, but before you could come up with something to say, an arm went around your shoulder and a kiss dropped to your head. 

“Merry Christmas.” 

You looked up at Harry, relief rushing through you. “How did we meet?”

He chuckled deeply but scratched his chin, and you could see him working it out in his eyes. “At a concert,” he drawled slowly. “Little bit ago. Had a good time.”

“Who were you seeing?” Anne asked, pulling out another mug. 

“Can’t remember,” you murmured and his eyes softened, crinkling at the corners some. “Someone not very famous.”

“Was good, though,” he said.

“He was ok.”

Snuffing a laugh, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Tea, sweetheart?”

“Thanks, Mum,” Harry said. 

Anne busied herself with the electric kettle while he leaned in. “Sleep ok?”

You nodded. “You were out like a light.”

“Got tired,” he said with a smarmy smirk and you tutted. “Love me anyway.”

“For now,” you said and he bumped his nose into your temple as Anne gingerly slid a cup his way. 

It took a simple knock at the front door disturbed the peace. 

Uncle Harry was someone you hadn’t seen until he had kids at his feet pestering him and demanding attention or a quiet moment in front of the television. It pulled at something deep in you hidden behind your belly button, but with your water wings removed as his attention became occupied, you were in the deep end on your own. Their parents — cousins and step-relatives, from what you could gather — were friendly if vocal and sharply more inquisitive than the little ones who had his ear. Anne, Gemma, and her boyfriend were one thing, but you were quite sure you’d forgotten three names already, and you found yourself staying quiet instead of running the risk of revealing that embarrassment. After gifts had been opened and drinks had been poured, you murmured gentle excuses in the midst of the chaos and slipped away in search of a quiet moment of sanity.

You climbed the steps into the darkness of the second floor and rounded the corner into his bedroom, but your eyes watered instantly when your foot collided with something hard. “Fuck!” You hobbled to the nightstand and turned the night on, an accusatory gaze falling on your suitcase. The bed sank beneath you and you bent to rub your offended toes.

“You good?”

Your eyes snapped up to find the senior Styles sibling in the doorway with her arms crossed. “Yeah,” you said. “Just… needed a minute.”

“There are a lot of them.”

You nodded. “And I don’t know who anyone is or how to—“ You mimed jamming your hand in somewhere and she hummed. 

“They don’t bite,” she said. “They can be loud, but they don’t generally use their teeth.”

“I’m trying.” You massaged your toe. “I’m just not sure and I don’t want to fuck it up.”

“And he glued himself to you for 30 hours and didn’t let you figure out how to know people before getting swept away in a sea of kiddies.”

You nodded again. “They’re excited to see him, though,” you said, a smile pulling at your mouth. “That’s nice.”

“Do you want children?”

“Yes,” you said without thinking. “We— yes.” Gemma’s eyebrows rose and your face burned. 

Footsteps clunking closer made you both look to the doorway, and seconds later his frame filled it. “There you are,” he said. “You ok?”

“Stubbed my toe.” 

“How’d you do that?” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” you huffed. He sat down next to you and pulled your foot onto his lap. 

“I’ll leave you two to talk.” Gemma slunk from the room and Harry frowned. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said. “Just overwhelmed.” He peered at you with clear, focused eyes, and you felt guilty for admitting it. “Feel out of place.” 

His lips thinned but he nodded slightly.

“I don’t know anyone, but—” your voice stuck and you swallowed hard, “but I’m trying.” 

“And you’re doing great.” You looked at the ceiling. “You are,” he insisted. “I think so. And I know there are a lot of people. It’ll be calmer tomorrow — Boxing Day and all. We’ll play some games and have a walk.” 

You nodded and did your best to keep your lower lip from wobbling. “The kids love you,” you said and he chuckled low. 

“Yeah, I’m the fun one.” He squeezed your ankle and tugged. “C’mere.” Shifting, you leaned forward and curled up against his side, face in his neck. 

“Sorry,” you whispered. 

“Don’t be,” he said. “You’re jet lagged, too, yeah?”

You nodded and circled your arms around his chest when he rubbed your back. “Can we have a minute?” 

“Yeah, we can.”

***

He was right. Boxing Day was significantly less crowded, with the family and friends trimmed down to only the closest, although the boisterous energy lingered, lending just enough festive spirit to counteract the long-melted snow that had turned the outside into muck. You leaned against his legs, head on his knee, with a full belly in front of the fire and his hand on your shoulder as voices rose and fell, a smile on your face listening to him shout interjections and laugh. 

“You awake down there?” Harry bounced his knee and you tilted back to frown at him. He grinned boyishly underneath the cap on his head, eyes full of mischief. 

“Why are you being a pest?” 

“He can’t help it,” Gemma quipped from where she sat cross-legged by the hearth, the fire casting a glow onto her skin. “He was born that way.” 

“Take a lot of abuse, don’t I?” 

“Your knees are knobby,” you said as you settled back down against him with a smirk. 

“Oi—” He pinched your cheek and you shrank away from his fingers. 

“Everyone behave,” Anne said, walking through the maze of legs and limbs. “And take your pick. Forgot to do these yesterday, so we have plenty to clear through.”

Of what you were picking you didn’t know until the bag passed you by you caught a glimpse of a variety of gold, red, green, and patterned Christmas crackers. 

“You’ll share one with me,” Harry said, a gaudily patterned one in hand. 

“What’s my prize?” you asked, twisting between his legs. “A cheap toy and a bad joke?”

“Sounds about right,” he said, holding his cracker out. “Go on and give it a good pull. Y’might know a thing or—”

Gasping, you grabbed the tab inside the cracker and tugged hard to cut him off. The anticlimactic pop was followed by a puff of smoke which he waved away quickly before digging inside the half he’d come away with. 

“I got a crown!” he crowed, unfolding the flimsy paper. Smirking, you took it from him and stood on wobbly knees before removing his cap from his head and placing the paper crown delicately on his hair. 

“Prince Harry,” you said with a simpering smile and he burst out laughing. 

“Treat me like a king, though, don’t you, darling?”

You rolled your eyes and Gemma retched. “That’s disgusting,” she said.

“She’s right,” you agreed and he pulled you down onto his lap. You tensed but he adjusted his legs to make a comfortable seat, arms looped around your waist like a seatbelt. 

“Now I know why I kept you two apart for so long,” he said. “Teaming up on me.”

“You deserve to be told,” you said, straightening his crown. 

“How long have you two been together?” Gemma asked. “I don’t think you’ve actually told us.”

“A while,” Harry said and she rolled her eyes.

“Quit dodging, I’m not telling.”

“A year,” you said. Harry looked at you and you held his gaze. “A year and a half?” you went on. “Maybe?”

“Somethin’ like that,” he agreed. “Depends on how you cut it.” 

“Last summer?” Gemma asked, thumbing the end of her cracker. 

“More or less,” Harry said. He exchanged a quick glance with her and you ducked your head, only able to imagine their unspoken conversation. He cupped your cheek and kissed the side of your head quickly. 

“That’s a long time,” Anne said absentmindedly as she picked a cat out of the bag of crackers. Harry mumbled incomprehensibly and you became fascinated with his fingers, her observation echoing in your head. She was right — a year and a half wasn’t nothing. It’d taken awhile, and the first year or so had been spent in limbo, but here you were at the end of it on his lap at Christmastime with his family in his mother’s home. That was a long way to come from that hotel room in the city. 

“Right.” Bag of Christmas crackers traded for a cat under each arm to keep them from trouble, Anne straightened up. “Who’s ready for a walk?” 

“You up for it?” Harry murmured next to your ear. 

“I think I’ll stay in,” you said quietly. “Let you have some time with your family.”  

“Sure?” he asked and you nodded, pressing your forehead to his momentarily before clambering from his lap. 

Coats, scarves, hats, gloves, and multiple pairs of Wellies later and you kissed him goodbye with a smile. “Go,” you whispered when he lingered, and after the door shut, you stood in the foyer biting your lip, cats circling your legs. 

It was hours later when you were curled on his bed and pulled from your doze to the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer. The door creaked when it opened and his hulking frame slipped in, bringing the smell of rain and mud with him. 

“You’re back,” you rasped and he nodded, tiptoeing across the wood floor in socked feet, boots abandoned somewhere else in the house.

“I am.” The bed sank under his weight when he sat down next to you and you opened your arms, welcoming him when he tucked his face into your neck, the soft wool of his Green Bay beanie tickling you. You shoved your hand underneath it into his hair and massaged his head, the chilled tips of your fingers warming instantly. 

“Mmm,” you hummed, breathing in deeply. “You smell good.”

“Not like wet dog?” he laughed and you grinned.

“Nuh uh.” You pressed your nose to his head, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. “Good walk?”

He nodded. “They really like you,” he said thickly. “They really.”

Relief bloomed in your chest and the invisible pressure you’d felt on your shoulders since you’d booked your ticket eased some. “Did you think they wouldn’t?” you asked with a small laugh and he shook his head.

“Course not. S’just nice t’hear, innit?”

***

It went by entirely too fast. Only yesterday, you’d touched down at the airport, and now it was New Year’s Eve. Two days more and you’d be on your way back, and even though you’d done nothing but be with him, it felt like you’d hardly seen him. There was always someone — that was the point, though, wasn’t it? Family and friends and all the things people didn’t get to do throughout the year. All the things he definitely didn’t get to do. 

“But I want to see you,” he’d moaned when you reminded him. “I want—“

“I’m here!” you’d laughed. He’d scowled and you’d cupped his face. “Quit being a grump. Only have a little time left, don’t we?”

For wanting to be with you, though, he’d done a good job at disappearing for the last few hours. 

“You leave on the second?”

Curled up on the sofa, you nodded in answer to Gemma’s question. “You?”

“The sixth,” she said. “Head back to London then. He might come with, if he doesn’t leave sooner.” 

“Does he usually?”

She shrugged, scratching one of the cats — Evie or Dottie, you couldn’t be sure which — behind the ears. “He gets restless,” she said. “He’s always on the move. He’s slowed down some but he still gets itchy.” 

“What am I?”

You twisted and looked up, finding him towering above you behind the sofa. He had his coat on and a cap on his head, and his hands were tucked in his pockets. 

“An eavesdropper.” He nodded as if to say that was fair before dropping a kiss to your head. “Where’ve you been?”

“Just taking care of some things.” He ducked close to your ear. “Wanna disappear with me?” The way he said it — smooth and warm — sent a delicious tickle up your spine. “C’mon.” He jerked his head. 

“Where?” you asked. 

“Out.”

“Out where? It’s almost 10:30, and your mother said—“

“Don’t you worry,” he said. “Mum knows I’m stealing you.” 

Your own coat and scarf wrapped tightly around you, you followed him out the front door. It was misting lightly and you gripped his hand tightly, tripping in an effort to keep up with his purposeful stride towards his car. 

“We’re driving?” you asked. 

“Going to a party,” he said. 

“A part— Harry, I’m not dressed for—“

He held you firm when you pulled his hand. “You’re fine.”

“Harry—“

“You’re fine,” he said. “Trust me, will you? Just get in the car.”

He opened the door and you groaned, ducking, but instantly your mood shifted. “What is this?” you asked, cackling as you slid in. A blanket was tucked in the corner of  the backseat and a paper plate with cheese, crackers, nuts, and olives was precariously balanced on the console. 

“New Years party,” he groaned, clambering in after you and shutting the door firmly. “Very private, invitation only.”

“And how many invitations went out?” 

He grinned without remorse and you kissed him. 

“Bubbly?” he asked. 

“What—?” You laughed when he reached around front and pulled a bottle of champagne from the seat. 

“Gimme your scarf,” he said. When the cork popped, you covered your ears, and he waved away the mist before lifting it to his mouth. 

“Couldn’t find glasses, so I figured we’d just….”

You snorted but accepted it when he passed it your way.

“What’s the meaning of this?” you asked. 

“I like seeing my family,” he said. “But I like seeing you, too.” He shrugged after a moment. “You leave in a couple days. Just wanted some time where we aren’t around other people or about to fall asleep.”

“It’s kind of romantic of you, you know?” 

He smiled lopsidedly. 

The poor-quality stream on his phone of the program everyone was crowded around inside kept you both apprised of the dwindling decade. Champagne gradually replaced the blood in your veins, and you as the night waned and drew closer to morning, you curled up half on his lap, lips burning from salty brine. “We should go in soon,” you said, tongue heavy. 

“Sure,” Harry said, nuzzling your temple and doing the least to make a move. 

“What time is it?” 

Harry leaned forward and you clutched his jumper. “Three minutes to midnight.” He flopped back and you burrowed closer. 

“It’s almost time,” you said. “They’ll be looking for us, we should….”

“S’ok, they know where we are,” he said, nuzzling your temple. “They won’t miss us.” 

“It’s New Years,” you protested. 

“It’ll still be a new year tomorrow, they can see us then.”

You wanted to argue but somehow you couldn’t find the strength. The next thing you knew, he was counting down next to your ear, quietly, breath warm on your skin. 

“Ten… nine… eight….”

So many things had changed this year. When the last one had rolled around, you’d been alone, drunk, wondering if it was appropriate to text your international musician bootycall a happy new year and petrified of how he might take it. Now, said bootycall had turned boyfriend and he’d all but begged you to spend the holidays with him, and there you were, tucked in his car with his family inside. 

“Five, four—“

“I love you.”

“Two,” mixed with a laugh, his hand was already on your cheek and you just caught sight of his eyes. “One… happy new year!”

You kissed him first, gripping his wrist to hold steady, but he returned it in kind, Auld Lang Syne squeaking its way through his phone on the stream. 

“And I love you, too,” he said against your mouth, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. 

“Good,” you whispered before sighing. “Suppose we should go in now since we missed it.”

“Hang on,” Harry said, voice strained. “They can wait a minute.” He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. 

“What are you doing?” you asked, heart pounding and mind jumping to the wildest conclusions you couldn’t believe would be true.

Licking his lips, Harry took a deep breath. “I’ve got… I’ve got that place in the city, you know.”

You looked up at him, but he was studiously avoiding your gaze, and he was remarkably pale for how warm it was in the car. “I’d like to raise my… I’d like to have my family in England, but in the meantime….” He shrugged. “I could like… I could spend more time there. For awhile. And, like, if you thought you wanted to spend time with me or summat….” It was only then he chanced a glance at you, and you caught his cheek to hold him still. 

“You scared me,” you said, lips ticking up at the corners.

“What’d y’think I was going to say?” he rasped and you shook your head. 

“Not that.” You scratched his cheek lightly. “And I’d like spending time with you if you spent more time there.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and he let out a breath. “I’ll look into it, then,” he said and you rolled your eyes. 

“Pest,” you said before kissing him. 

What a difference a year made.

[swanqueeneverafter]

I Believe In Us

A Belated Christmas Story. Set during ‘The Once & Future Queen’. *Spoilers lie ahead* After the kiss that sent Emma back home to the future, Storybrooke’s fate is now uncertain. Can the curse still be broken without the Saviour? Will Regina be able to move on from her latest heartbreak and mend her relationship with Henry?

Storybrooke. The Mayor’s House. (Emma walks Henry up the garden path towards the house.) Henry: “Please don’t take me back there.” Emma: “I have to. I’m sure your Mom is worried sick about you.” Henry: “She’s evil.” Emma: (Scoffs:) “Evil. Boy you were a handful back then weren’t you?” Henry: “What?” Emma: “Er… nothing. Listen, Kid. I’m sure that’s not true. (Emma’s breath catches when she sees the front door open as if in slow motion:) Here we go.” Regina: “Henry? Oh! Henry! (Runs out and hugs him:) Are you okay? Where have you been? What happened?” Henry: “I found my other Mom!” (Henry runs inside the house. Up until this moment, Regina has only had eyes for her son. Turning to face the woman beside her, Regina gazes into the eyes of her long lost love.) Regina: “Emma. You… You’re Henry’s birth mother?” (Unable to speak, Emma merely nods.) Sheriff Graham: (Awkwardly:) “I’ll… just… go check the lad, make sure he’s okay.” (He leaves.) Regina: “How… I don’t understand…” Emma: (Smiles, lamely:) “It’s a long story.” Regina: “You’re really here. (Slowly reaches out to touch Emma’s face:) I’ve waited so long… just to see you again.” Emma: (Softly:) “I know.” Regina: “All of this… everything you see… I created it, hoping that one day we’d be together again.” Emma: (Nodding, Emma takes Regina’s hands in her own:) “I need you to do just one more thing for me.” Regina: “Anything.” Emma: (Smiles:) “Kiss me.” Regina: “I thought you’d never ask.” (Regina steps forward and claims Emma’s lips with her own. Her eyes widening at the passion coming from Regina, Emma notices that her body begins to glow with a brilliant golden light. Wrapping her arms around Regina to hold her close, Emma shuts her eyes tightly and surrenders fully to the kiss.) Moments Later... (Basking in the emotions of once more being in the arms of the woman she loves, Regina is about to run her hands through the blonde woman's hair when all sensation suddenly stops. Regina's eyes spring open just in time to see the shimmering gold outline of Emma's body disappear before her eyes.) Regina: (Reaching out with one hand, whispers:) "Emma..." Boston. Emma’s Apartment. (Emma enters with a bag and places it on the counter. She takes out a gourmet cupcake and puts a candle on it, lighting it.) Emma: “Another banner year… (She closes her eyes and blows out the candle. The doorbell rings. Emma opens the door:) Shaw?” Shaw: “Hey, Swan. Happy Birthday.” Emma: “Uh… thanks. What are you-” Shaw: “I got another case for ya.” Emma: “Oh, really? You know what, maybe you ought to take it, my car’s just been stolen and-” Shaw: (Pushing past Emma and walking into the apartment:) “I would, but this guy prefers blondes. Hey, shut the door, you’re letting the heat out.” (Emma nods and closes the door with a sigh.)

Storybrooke. One Week Later. (Henry Mills lays on his bed with his back to the door when his mother enters the room.) Regina: "It's time for your therapy session." Henry: "I don't want to go." (Regina pushes open the door further and gently joins him on the bed.) Regina: "Well I think it'd be good to talk to someone. (Pats Henry on the leg:) C'mon. (Henry rolls over and gets up from the bed:) That's my boy. (Henry pulls on his jacket:) Henry, do you mind telling me what started all this? I mean we used to be so close and now-" Henry: (Picking up the storybook he turns and holds it out to her:) "Here. (Regina takes it:) I thought this had all the answers, but I guess I was wrong. You take it, I don't want it anymore." (Placing the book on the bed, Regina opens it and flips through the first few pages while Henry heads sullenly towards the stairs.) Lowell, Massachusetts. Dentist's Office. (Emma Swan sits flicking through the pages of a magazine in the waiting room. From time to time she covertly glances at the man seated across from her.) Receptionist: "Mr. Mitchell? Doctor Hughes will see you now." (Mr. Mitchell nods, tosses the magazine he was reading back on the table in front of him and heads towards the dentist's office.) A Few Minutes Later. (Having given the local anaesthetic drugs time to take effect, Emma barges her way into the doctor's office where Mr. Mitchell is being treated.) Doctor Hughes: "Excuse me, you can't be in here." Emma: "Oh I can't afford not to be. You see, Doc, this guy is my next meal ticket." Doctor Hughes: "Excuse me?" Emma: "Well, Alex here has run up a few debts, and I've been hired to track him down." Doctor Hughes: "I see. Well nevertheless, I'm about to fix this man's smile." Emma: "Yeah, I'd hold off on that if I were you, Doc. Unless you like to work for free? You wouldn't be the first person Alex has failed to pay. (Doctor Hughes presses the button on the dentist's chair causing it to raise Alex back into an upright position:) Good choice. (Notices something:) Ooh. (Picks up a teeth whitening chart:) Egg shell white might look nice?" Doctor Hughes: (Pulling off his gloves:) "Just get him out of here." Emma: (Smiles:) "You're the doc, Doc.”

Storybrooke. Main Street. (Regina is walking down the street and sees Marco struggling to repair a sign and Ruby and Granny arguing. She looks bored.) Archie: “Beautiful day.” Regina: “Save it.” (She bumps into Mary Margaret.) Mary Margaret: “Oh! Mayor Mills, I am so sorry.” Regina: “I ran into you. Why are you apologizing?” Mary Margaret: “No, I should have been looking where I was going.” Regina: “You’re not even going to fight back?!” Mary Margaret: “Fight back? Why would I do that?” (Walks away.) (With siren blaring, Sheriff Graham's police cruiser pulls up alongside Regina, startling her.) Regina: "Turn off that damn siren!" Sheriff Graham: "Apologies, Madam Mayor but... (Steps out of the car and leans against it:) You've been a hard woman to track down lately." Regina: "Well I’ve been busy. After all, I do run this town, sheriff." Sheriff Graham: "I understand that. But I also realise you may have been avoiding me and I believe the reason has something to do with the owner of that vehicle over there. (Graham points towards the yellow bug parked across the street:) I think we should speak again about how Henry's birth mother suddenly arrives in town and leaves just as quickly without her car?" Regina: "I've told you all I know, sheriff. Henry's birth mother gave away her rights to him years ago and when my son turned up on her doorstep, she obviously couldn't drop him back home and get the hell out of this town fast enough. Don't expect me to understand the mind of a woman like that!” Mr. Gold Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer. (Walking with purpose, Regina enters Mr. Gold's shop, turns the open sign to closed and slams the door shut.) Mr. Gold: (Overly cheerful:) "Regina, how wonderful it is to see you!" Regina: "You son of a bitch." Mr. Gold: "Quite possible. I never knew my mother." Regina: "Enough games, Gold. I thought you were heartless before, but this? Using her as part of your sick little plans?" Mr. Gold: (Calmly:) "You know, every once in a while you come into my shop and rave at me about some great wrong that you believe I've done to you. I must confess, each time leaves me more perplexed than before." Regina: (Scoffs:) "You have no idea what I'm talking about, is that right?" Mr. Gold: "I'm afraid not." Regina: "Then let me illuminate you. I am talking about Henry's birth mother." Mr. Gold: (Furrows his brow in thought:) "The woman who was found in the woods outside Storybrooke around... how long ago must it be now?" Regina: "Twenty eight years ago." Mr. Gold: "Ah yes. What about her?" Regina: "She was here. She brought Henry back from Boston with her." Mr. Gold: "Oh yes, I think I heard something about that from Doctor Hopper. Despite Henry running away, it sounds to me like everything worked out in the end.” Regina: "Only the thing is, Gold, I met her before... years ago and yet when I saw her again, she didn't look a day older. How do you explain that?" Mr. Gold: (Smirks:) "I'm told some women age more gracefully than others?" Regina: "Oh cut the crap! There's simply no way that Emma could be-" Mr. Gold: (A look of recognition dawns upon his face:) "Emma… What a lovely name." Regina: (Realising something has just changed between them:) “You… you built this into this whole thing, didn’t you? You made this happen because the mother… she’s…”

Mr. Gold: (Composing himself:) "Do you ever get Deja vu? She's what, Madam Mayor?" Regina: "She's the Saviour. But you told me that..." Mr. Gold: "There's a complete thought in there just screaming to get out." (Regina paces the floor in thought, then turns back.) Regina: "It's impossible. You told me the Saviour was the child of Snow and Prince Charming." Mr. Gold: "Did I?" Regina: "Play dumb all you want, you little imp. Whatever your schemes were, they're finished. Your Saviour vanished into thin air. There's no one left to break the curse. I have Henry, I have this town and finally, after destroying your plans... I truly have my revenge!" (Regina strides to the door, pulls it open and walks through it. Leaving Mr. Gold fuming in her wake.) Worcester, Massachusetts. (Sitting at the bar, Emma orders another drink. Watching her from the dance floor, Shaw excuses herself from her dance partner, walks over and takes the seat beside Emma.) Emma: (Notices Shaw staring at her:) "What are you looking at?” Shaw: “I'm just trying to figure out what it'll take to get you to open up.” Emma: “Open up what? I'm open. I spent my birthday alone. I spent Thanksgiving alone and now it looks like I’ll be spending Christmas alone. It sucks, but it’s been this way all my life.” Shaw: “How do you feel?” Emma: “Like it sucks.” Shaw: “Right. But are you mad, sad? Do you feel like throwing things, or crying your eyes out?” Emma: “I don't know. (Sighs:) Neither, both, all of it. I don't know.” Shaw: “And I thought I was tough to crack.” Emma: “I just need to drink, okay? And since my car was stolen, I’ve got no excuse not to.” Shaw: “Actually, you do. I’m about five minutes from convincing my mark to leave with me then I’ll need your help getting him tied up and stuffed in my trunk. So if you want a ride...” Emma: “I know, I know. I gotta earn it. (Grabs her drink:) Last one, I swear.” (Shaw gives her a look and then heads back to her dance partner.) Shaw: (Emma smiles when she hears Shaw talking to the unsuspecting man:) “Of course I was coming back, it’s so nice to find a man who’ll let me lead.”

Storybrooke. Dr. Hopper's Office. (Regina and Archie discuss Henry's treatment.) Regina: "What the hell is going on, Doctor Hopper? My son is pulling away from me and he's become even more sullen and depressed than before." Doctor Hopper: "Madam Mayor, you must understand. Henry has just received two big losses in his life. In the world he created for himself, Henry believed that his birth mother only gave him away due to circumstances beyond her control. After having found Emma and telling her what he believed to be true, the fact that she quickly returned him and left without so much as a backwards glance was devastating to him. He not only lost his birth mother for a second time but also the hopefulness that came from his belief system." Regina: "But surely that's a good thing? Now that Henry has seen the truth, he should be able to move past it?" Doctor Hopper: (Nods:) "That is what I had hoped would happen. But as you've seen for yourself, Henry only seems to be retreating further into his shell." Storybrooke Elementary School. (Regina visits Henry's teacher, Mary Margaret Blanchard.) Regina: "What in the hell did you tell my son about this book?" Mary Margaret: "Just that they were some old stories to give him hope. As you well know, Henry is a special boy: so smart, so creative, and as you might be aware, lonely. He needed it." Regina: "Well your dose of hope has sent Henry into a full blown depression. I mean look at this nonsense. (Flips to the page depicting Prince Charming putting baby Emma through the wardrobe:) What kind of so-called heroes put their own interests ahead of their new-born child?" (Walks away from the table to stare derisively at the crudely painted bird houses.) Mary Margaret: (Nods:) "I'll grant you that part of the story is mortifying but that's just the beginning." Regina: "What are you talking about? That's where the storybook ends." Mary Margaret: "I'm sorry, Madam Mayor but you're wrong. Look." (Glancing back towards the table, Regina watches as Mary Margaret turns over several pages of the storybook, each illustrating further stories that are unfamiliar.) Regina: "Let me see that. (Scans the pages:) These weren't in here before." Mary Margaret: "Perhaps you just missed them? I know how busy you are, Madam Mayor. (Looks at the clock:) And I have a class due here any minute. (Guides Regina towards the door while she continues to read through the new pages:) Please send Henry my love and tell him his whole class is thinking of him." (Without a word, Regina merely nods and continues reading, paying no attention to the mass of school children now surrounding her as they make their way to their next class.) Mills House. Evening. (That night, despite a long standing house rule of no reading at the dinner table, Regina finds herself unable to tear her eyes away from the storybook. Having excused Henry after a disastrous meal of burned lasagne and second helpings of ice cream, Regina sits alone fully engrossed in the story of the Saviour, Emma Swan and the former Evil Queen, Regina Mills. Eventually, after hours spent reading, Regina’s tired eyes begin to fail her. Unwilling to be parted from the storybook, Regina makes her way up the stairs, clutching the book closely to her. Peering in on Henry to find him fast asleep, Regina makes her way to her own bedroom and closes the door.) The Next Morning. (Sheriff Graham stands waiting outside the Mayor's mansion while Regina speaks to Henry.) Henry: "Wait a minute, you're leaving me here by myself on Christmas Eve? Don't you remember those Home Alone movies we watch every year?" Regina: "I remember, Henry. Vividly. But you're not going to be alone, I've asked Doctor Hopper to stay with you until I get back." Henry: "And you're not going to tell me where you're going?" (Regina does not answer, giving her son a sympathetic look.) Regina: "Sheriff Graham and I have to get going. I promise I'll be back to tuck you in, okay?" Henry: (Sighs:) "Okay." Regina: "Now give me a hug. (Henry wraps his arms around his mother:) I love you, Henry." Henry: "I know you do." Regina: (Holding him closer:) "And?" Henry: (Smiling despite himself:) "I love you too, Mom." Regina: "Good boy. (She kisses him then straightens up:) We'll be back before you know it.”

Boston. Emma’s Apartment. (With the storybook under her arm, Regina nervously approaches apartment 205 and knocks on the door.) Emma: (Opening the door:) "May I help you?" Regina: (Stares at her for a long moment, then smiles:) "Hello. You don't know me, my name is Regina Mills. Around ten years ago you gave a baby up for adoption. His name is Henry and he's my son." A Short Time Later. (Seated opposite each other with the storybook and two glasses between them, Regina and Emma discuss Henry.) Emma: "So your son believes that everyone in his home town is a fairy tale character? (Regina nods:) Hey listen, if you're here to ask about my family history, I'm sorry but I can't help you." Regina: (Smiles:) "That's not why I'm here. Henry only started to believe these things after reading that book." Emma: (Shrugs:) "Seems pretty simple to me, just tell him no more stories until he's old enough to tell the difference between fantasy and reality." Regina: "That's just it, Miss Swan, the problem isn't that Henry believes the stories to be true." Emma: "It's not? (Regina shakes her head:) Then help me out here because I'm feeling a little lost." Regina: "The problem is... that they are true. Every last one of them. (When Emma moves backwards in her seat:) I cast the curse that brought everyone from my world to this one. The land without magic." Emma: "Riiight. Well I think we've found the route of Henry's problems." Regina: (Lowers her head:) "I know." Emma: "You're clearly feeding his delusions." Regina: (Looks up quickly:) "What?" Emma: "Well no wonder he thinks these stories are real if you're playing along with him." Regina: "No, Emma, that's not what I meant. (She reaches for the storybook and turns to a page depicting Emma and Regina's shared magic:) Don't you see? That's us!" Emma: (Glances sceptically at the page:) "I guess there's a faint resemblance... but come on, who are you trying to con?" Regina: "You don't believe me?" Emma: "How can I? What you're talking about... magic and fairy tales... it's impossible." Regina: "In this land, yes, but in the Enchanted Forest-" Emma: (Scoffs:) "The Enchanted Forest? Are you even listening to yourself?!" Regina: "I'm not lying to you, Emma. Everything you've ever wanted to know about your family, who you are and where you came from, it's right in here." Emma: "Why are you doing this to me?" Regina: "All right, you want proof? Your yellow bug is waiting for you outside. I drove it here from Storybrooke." Emma: "You what? So you stole my car?" Regina: "No, I've returned it after the other Emma took it to drive my son back home." Emma: "Oh, the 'other' Emma took it? (Stands:) Okay lady, it's time for you to leave." Regina: (Also stands:) "You don't think I know how insane this sounds? The fact that I'm stood pleading with the one person destined to destroy everything I've built, everything I've worked so hard for? (Emma folds her arms, unmoved by this:) Back home, everyone does exactly what I want them to do. Not because they want to, but because they have to." Emma: (Sarcastically:) "Right, because of the curse?" Regina: "My revenge, my so-called happy ending? None of it is real. Henry is already pulling away from me more and more each day. There is only one way to break the curse and I am begging you for your help." (Emma simply stands watching Regina for a long moment before speaking.) Emma: "Even if I did believe any of this and somehow managed to break the curse, aren't the people of your town going to want revenge for what you've done?“ Regina: (Nods:) "And then some." Emma: "Then why would you want to bring that upon yourself?" Regina: "Because I have read what happens next. (Reaches over and picks up the storybook:) This book contains the story of our past and what I can only conclude is a possible version of our future. Half the stuff in here hasn't even happened yet. (Holds out the book to Emma:) But I have seen a glimpse of what my life could be... and I choose us." (Feeling more vulnerable than she has in years, Regina watches closely as Emma slowly reaches out and takes the storybook.) Outside Emma's Apartment Building. (Sheriff Graham is waiting beside his police cruiser when he sees Regina approaching quickly.) Sheriff Graham: "Regina, is everything all right?" Regina: "Give me the damn keys, I'm driving." Sheriff Graham: "I'm not sure that's a good idea." Regina: "Give me the keys or I will take them from you, sheriff." (Graham pulls the keys from his pocket and hands them over. Running quickly around the car, Graham just manages to slide into the passenger seat before Regina turns on the ignition and, tyres screeching, drives away.) Sheriff Graham: "I take it things didn't go well?" Regina: "I don't want to talk about it, I just want to get home to my son before Christmas." (Regina reaches over and turns on the radio, effectively stifling any further attempts to talk.)

Emma's Apartment. Later That Night. (Emma paces the floor while Shaw tries to make sense of what she's heard.) Shaw: "So you're telling me that a successful, gorgeous woman knocks on your door, begs you to be her Saviour and you just let her go?" Emma: "It's a little more complicated than that. Did I mention she's nuts?" Shaw: "The adoptive mother of your son who you've never told me about?" Emma: "Why would I mention that? It was meant to be a closed adoption for a reason. Did you not hear the 'she's nuts' part?" Shaw: "Even if she is, aren't you even just a little curious to find out about your family?" Emma: (Scoffs:) "You mean my parents who according to that book, just so happen to be Snow White and Prince Charming? Sameen, you and I live in the real world. You can't possibly think there's anything to this nonsense." Shaw: (Flips through the storybook:) “I don’t know, if the people in Storybrooke are even half as hot as they appear in this book..." Emma: "Don't you ever think with another part of your anatomy?" Shaw: (Staring at a picture of a fairy named Astrid:) "I know who's anatomy I'm going to be thinking about tonight." Emma: (Throws up her hands and grabs her coat:) "I need some air." Shaw: "Emma, come on...“ (Slamming the door to her apartment closed behind her, Emma pulls on her coat and heads towards the stairs.) Roof Top. (Pushing open the door to the roof top garden, Emma immediately feels the cool evening air upon her face. Believing herself to be alone, Emma walks towards the edge of the building before hearing a voice behind her.) Apprentice: "Your friend is right you know." Emma: (Spinning around, her eyes are slow to focus as the man steps out of the shadows:) "And who are you supposed to be, Santa Claus?”

Apprentice: (Smiles:) "Perhaps. Tell me, Emma, at what point did you stop believing?" Emma: (Sighs:) "Listen, whoever you are, I'm not in the mood for any more mind games tonight." Apprentice: "Of course not. You usually like to spend Christmas Eve drinking yourself into a stupor so that you can sleep through Christmas Day entirely." Emma: (Unable to argue this point:) "All right, let's say you're right about that. Does that make you my guardian angel? Have you come to show me what my life could be like? Have you come to save me, Clarence?" Apprentice: "In a way, I suppose you could say that. You are destined for great things, Emma Swan. Great things that you can only hope to achieve if you allow yourself to believe in the impossible." Emma: "You're talking about hope? Sorry, but that kinda gets stomped out of you when spend your entire life being rejected by those who should love you the most." Apprentice: "All it takes is a spark. Just one person believing in you can be enough to send you down the right path." Emma: "I walk my own path. Alone." Apprentice: (Nods:) "Naturally, I forgot who I was speaking to. With you, Emma, seeing has always been the only way you have ever truly believed." Emma: "Yeah, well call me crazy, but I prefer to live in reality." Apprentice: "Indeed. Although I do wonder what could cause you to ever take a real leap of faith? If seeing means that you will believe, then perhaps you'd like to take a look over there?" (The Apprentice points towards the edge of the building. Anxious for this to be over, Emma gives the Apprentice a withering look before turning and walking to the edge to peer down at the street below. Suddenly, a flurry of movement gives Emma only a split second to move out of the way before what can only be described as a flying vehicle brushes past her. Looking up into the sky, Emma turns and sees a red and gold sleigh being pulled by eight reindeer flying high above her head. Spinning around once more, Emma sees that the bearded man has now vanished while the sound of sleigh bells can be heard faintly fading into the distance.)

On The Road. (Driving through the night, Emma heads out of Boston while sparing a glance at the storybook which sits beside her on the passenger seat. Smiling to herself, Emma increases her speed, determined to reach her destination as soon as possible.) Storybrooke. Christmas Morning. Mills House. (With the storybook tucked under her arm, Emma makes the long walk up the garden path towards the Mayor's mansion. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she knocks on the front door.) Regina: (Opens door:) "Emma?" Emma: "Hey. So... I read the book." Regina: "In one night?" Emma: "Yeah, once I started reading, I um... couldn't put it down." Regina: "I know what you mean." Emma: "Mm." Regina: "And?" Emma: "And... look I'm not saying I believe everything in there to be true. But, I think if there’s even the slightest chance that it is, we'd be crazy not to give this a shot." Regina: "Hm. Well, according to you, Henry and I are already crazy." Emma: (Gives a nervous smile:) "Then I guess I'll be in good company. If your offer still stands?" Regina: (Steps aside to allow Emma entry:) "Are you sure you're ready for this?" Emma: (Nods:) "I'm ready to take a leap." Regina: (Smiles warmly:) “Me too.”

The End.

[hypnoticwinter]

Down the Rabbit Hole part 4

"You kids really ought to feel ashamed of yourselves," Peter says to them, and one of them, at least, the youngest, probably, judging by his looks, by the baby fat still on his cheeks, has the decency to feel embarrassed, to cast his glance downwards and away, to let his cheeks color with the shame of it. The other two, older, lankier, cooler, probably, just stare at him, hands folded in their laps. One of them, the girl, snaps her gum loudly.

There in the break room of Ranger Station 34c, the one with the old beige-painted walls that they never got around to redoing when they renovated the rest of the old Anodyne-era ranger stations, and the big poster from the 80s about the Roadless Rally, it's easy to forget that just fifteen feet below them is a pool of gastric acid powerful enough to strip flesh from bone within about five minutes flat, assuming total submersion.

"It was just a joke," the older boy says, and Peter rolls his eyes.

"Do you feel like it was a joke?" he asks, turning his gaze to the younger one. He must be around thirteen or fourteen. His hair is short but messy, like the barber wasn't paying attention when he'd cut it.

"No," the boy says, quietly, not willing to look Peter or the other two in the eyes. The girl snaps her gum again and Peter points at her.

"Spit that gum out," he tells her, nudging the wastepaper bin forward with his foot. Inside it he can see a printout of the memo that they'd emailed around earlier about the park staying open later for the firework show. Peter had groaned initially when he'd gotten it but then the promise of time and a half was transmitted in a reply and he'd felt better about it. The girl stares at him defiantly.

"You can't make me," she says. "You're not a cop."

"In here I am. Didn't you know that? Down here Rangers have almost the same authority as police do," he says, conscious, suddenly, of how he's resting his forearm almost lazily on the butt of his pistol. "I can make arrests, write tickets. Anything you can think of."

"Can you hold us here without charging us?" the older boy asks suddenly. He looks up at Peter with defiant eyes. "I want to –"

"How old are you?" Peter asks, not letting him finish. The boy shrugs.

"Nineteen."

"Really? Let me see your ID."

"Don't have it."

"Not in your wallet?" Peter asks, looking over at the table to his left, where he'd put the three kids' things. He walks over to it, pushes the girl's sweatshirt aside, picks up the small leather wallet with the embroidered fisherman on it. "This one yours?"

The kid won't answer him so he looks at the girl. "Is it yours?" he asks, waggling the wallet at her. She shakes her head after a moment.

"It's not mine," the youngest one volunteers.

"Well, look at that," Peter says. "Process of elimination. It's either yours or mine," he says to the oldest boy, making a show of patting his pockets. "Hmm, now where'd I leave my...oh, there it is," he says, pulling his own wallet out briefly, showing it to them. "Looks like this one's yours. You going to have to tell me how old you really are or do I have to look in here?"

"I said I'm nineteen," the boy repeats. Peter flips open the wallet, sorts through an insurance card and a Subway giftcard before finding the kid's ID. He pulls it out and studies it.

"Nineteen, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Bad at math, huh? When's your birthday?"

"June third."

"The year, smartass."

"Uh –"

"Too bad. You wouldn't have to think that long about it. You're seventeen," he says, fingering the ID. "Happy birthday..." he stops, looks down at the ID and back up at the older boy, enjoying the way his face tightens. "...Fitzroy. Hell of a name."

"Alright," Makado says, bursting through the door, a little out of breath. She glares at Peter. "I'm here. What the hell was so important?"

Peter nods to the eldest boy and the girl. "Why don't you tell her?"

"It was a joke," the girl says.

"Just a prank," Fitzroy agrees.

Peter shakes his head, looks at Makado. "These two," he says, pointing to the girl and the boy, "pushed this kid off of a walkway and were taunting him while he was slipping down into the pool below this ranger station." He gets a perverse sort of satisfaction watching Makado's cinnamon complexion pale slightly.

"Jesus," she breathes. "Thank you for not putting that on the radio."

"I'm not a total idiot."

"Look, what's the big deal?" the girl says. "It's not like we were going to let him drown, we would have jumped in after him."

The youngest boy shudders. Peter watches Makado's eyes narrow. "Did you see any signs down here?" she asks, her tone very cold. After a moment the girl shakes her head. "You," she says, turning her attention to Fitzroy. "People are only allowed down here as part of a ranger-lead tour, how did you get down here?"

He mumbles something.

"What was that?" Makado asks, cocking her head. He explains that they waited until a ranger slid his card to unlock the fence and then distracted him once he'd gone through by pretending to be lost and had asked questions for long enough that he'd forgotten to lock the gate after him. Makado rolls her eyes on hearing this, looks at Peter. "It must have been DeAngelis," she says. "He's the only one dumb enough to fall for that."

"Not everybody's as paranoid as you are," Peter reminds her, and she laughs.

"And yet I'm a head ranger and everybody else isn't. Wonder why that is?"

"Can we go now?" the Fitzroy asks, and Makado glares daggers at him.

"Absolutely not," she says. "You two," she says, pointing at him and the girl, "are going to the police station topside, and you're going to be booked for attempted murder."

"What?" the girl shrieks. The boy looks scared for a moment but regains his cool and laughs.

"You're just trying to scare us," he says, but Makado shakes her head, looking grimly satisfied.

"First," she says, counting on her fingers, "you're trespassing. On federal property, I should add, which is a fairly serious crime. Up to six months in prison, and a $500 fine."

"But we were –"

"Shut up," Peter tells them.

"Second, you aren't being incredibly cooperative right now, which is really only going to make things worse for you in the long run."

The girl looks like she wants to say something but thinks better of it.

"Third, the pool beneath this structure is the largest digestive bulb in the upper Pit area," she says significantly, glancing between the three of them. The younger one frowns, then pales. "You have any idea what that means?" she asks the girl, who shakes her head.

"The pool isn't water, or whatever you thought it was. It's acid."

"Bull," the older boy says.

"You think we'd be going to all this trouble if we weren't serious?" Peter asks. Neither of them have an answer. He looks over at Makado, jerks his head towards the table behind them. "Check out what's in the wallet over there."

She looks at him, then turns around, flips open the wallet. Peter can hear her rustling through it but he's watching Fitzroy, watching the way he squirms, watching the way he can't quite seem to meet Peter's eyes.

Makado makes a very small noise that Peter swears must have been her chuckling, but when she turns back around, perhaps a half a second later than he might have expected her to, her face is deadly serious. "Looks like we're adding drug possession to the list of charges," she says. Fitzroy makes a strangled noise somewhere in his throat and the girl groans.

"Come on!" she says. Her tone is pleading. "It's only a dub!"

"I'm going to pretend I know what that means," Makado tells her. She turns to Peter, leans in to whisper in his ear. "I'll call someone. Take them up to the surface and kick them out."

"No charges?" he murmurs.

"Of course not. They're kids. I'll keep the weed, though, that should teach them a lesson. Probably about twenty dollars' worth in this bag."

Peter nods and Makado pulls her radio out of its holster, clicks it over to the general channel. "Makado here, unattached rangers in Lower Gastro Zone B, respond please."

She takes her finger off the button and waits. Quiet static rumbles to itself on the channel, then the radio squawks.

"Makado, it's Maria. I just clocked out and I was heading back to the LVC, do you need me to clock back in?"

"Stand by, Maria," she says. She glances at Peter. "I forgot," she growls. "There's that stupid fireworks display tonight."

"Yeah, we're staying open until..."

"I forget. Midnight? Something like that."

"Hey, you're a Head Ranger, I figured you would know."

"Wait a minute," Makado frowns, clicking the radio on again. "Maria," she asks, "isn't everybody working late tonight? Why are you clocking out already?"

"I got permission from Carl," Maria says. "Cause my mom is in bed with that fever, you know, and I have to pick up my kid, and I don't have anybody else who can –"

"Okay, Maria," Makado says, "that's okay. You go on and go home."

"Are you sure? I've got about half an hour before –"

"Don't worry about it, Maria. Makado out."

"Roger."

Peter looks at Makado and Makado looks at Peter. "Whatever," she says. "We can take them up."

"You don't have more important things to do?"

"Probably," she admits. "But maybe I need a break."

"Alright kids," Peter says, turning to the three of them. Fitzroy and the girl have been whispering back and forth to each other the whole time, their faces drawn and serious, the gravity of the situation finally breaking over them. The youngest one is trying not to look smug but that disappears when Peter glares at him, lumping him in with the three of them. "All of you are in big trouble. Even you," he says, pointing to the youngest. "What's your name?"

"Tyler," he says in a small voice.

"Tyler, you were still trespassing. Don't think you're getting out of this scot-free."

"Are we doing good-cop bad-cop?" Makado murmurs in his ear. He can feel her breath on his earlobe and it sends a row of goosebumps cascading up his spine. "I thought I was usually the bad cop."

"You can be the bad cop later," he mutters back, keeping his eyes fixed on the kids. He feels more than hears her lips part in a smile.

"Let's go," she says.

They do. Peter happens to look at his watch before they all file out of the break room, him in the rear, watching the kids; the time is 9:30 at night on July 4th, 2007.

 * * *

 While they're marching down the long fenced-in corridor out of Lower Gastro Zone B back to the utility lift that will take them back to the Lower Visitor Center and, from there, ultimately to the surface, Peter considers the pink, fleshy walls pressed against the fence. This particular corridor suffered a contraction about a week ago when a stent failed and the Pit's muscles naturally filled in the resulting extra space. There was a tour group in the corridor when it happened and according to a friend of his, who was leading the tour group at the time, four people of the twelve fainted.

For the moment it's safe, though, since the temporary extra stents installed by Engineering are holding back the passage from complete collapse, but a more permanent solution will have to be sought soon. From what he understands they'll have to either go back in and tease the flesh back from the fence and insert additional permanent stents, as well as repair parts of the path that had buckled under the sudden change in pressure, or give up on this corridor altogether and widen out a new one, link it up to the vast network of passageways making up the lit, reinforced networks of the Pit.

He doesn't reflect on it often, but when things like this happen, when stents fail, when things go wrong (which is thankfully fairly rare, at least in his experience), Peter can't help but think of what it must be like, to be trapped in a corridor like this if it were to totally collapse in on itself, if, by some unlucky and unlikely coincidence, every stent were to fail simultaneously. As far as he knows nothing like that has ever happened in the history of the park, but it's a possibility, if a vague one. If you were in a proper suit you'd probably survive, the suits are armored and rated against a certain level of crushing pressure, but the kind he's wearing now, the lighter, 'interior-work' suit, wouldn't be able to stand up to that kind of abuse. It's only the heavy, reinforced engineer suits that would let you survive, and even then if you didn't have a supply of personal stents and probably a laser cutter you'd be trapped there, alive but unable to move, surrounded by throbbing, crushing flesh, unable to do anything but call for help on your helmet radio and watch the air in your canister tick down until you ran out and asphyxiated.

Peter's not bothered by tight spaces – when you get hired at the Mystery Flesh Pit you have to pass a claustrophobia test, even if you're working at the Burger King in the LVC – but even without any phobia of it the thought isn't pleasant.

He finds his eyes wandering down Makado's figure, lithe and supple even in the bulk of her ranger suit, at the way her sides taper inwards and then frill outwards pleasantly at her hips. He watches her hips sway as she walks. He knows he shouldn't look but he does anyway.

Ahead of him he sees Makado incline her head downwards and tap her earpiece, listening intently. He flips through the channels on his radio briefly but hears nothing out of the ordinary – whatever she's hearing must be on the command channel he doesn't have access to. Still walking forwards, she turns briefly and looks back at him; their eyes meet for a moment, then she turns back around. If the look was supposed to carry any significance or meaning, he misses it.

She says something into the radio then slows to a stop, turns around. "Alright kids, hold up for a second," she says. Peter slips past the three of them, sidles up to Makado. "Got a call from Control," she mutters. "There's a flooding issue in the Sand Gullet."

Peter's eyebrows raise. "How bad?"

"Don't know. Engineering is on the way right now, we'll know more in a couple minutes."

"What happened?"

"Pump failure."

"I mean, that's not so unusual. It's been raining cats and dogs today and they really ought to have replaced those pumps in waves instead of waiting to do all of them at once."

"Sorry," Makado says. Something in her tone cuts a quiet sliver of dread across Peter's belly. "I misspoke," she tells him. "The emergency pump failed."

It takes a moment for him to process that but when he does his eyes widen. "Oh fuck," he says.

"Oh fuck," she agrees. "Listen to me. You're down here more often than I am. Closest constriction-rated shelter from here?"

"Safest is the ranger station we came from. Closest is the elevator housing ahead. Your call, you know the Sand Gullet better, if it's full enough that the e-pump would have kicked in..."

Makado shakes her head briefly. "We can make it back to the ranger station. Hunker down, ride it out. Safest place in a constriction, those gastric pools don't have many muscles surrounding them."

"It'll take ten minutes to get back there."

"Five if we stop talking and run for it. Let's go."

The kids almost panic when Makado tells them that the area is becoming unsafe and they will need to run as fast as they can back to the ranger station they came from, but Peter grabs Fitzroy and Tyler and Makado grabs the girl whose name he still does not know, and as they run Peter puffs out what reassuring nothings he can in between breaths, trying to make it seem like this is less of a big deal than it is. Than it might be.

They keep as quick of a pace as they can. Makado's lean physique could easily outstrip all of them but she stays at the girl's pace, helping her up when she trips and stumbles, letting Peter and the boys get ahead. They cover the long hallway in a few minutes while Peter focuses on his breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth. Tyler is flagging a little but keeping up, and all of Fitzroy's cockiness seems to have departed him at this point. His eyes are wide and frightened.

The path diverges into a fork. They came from the left, Peter remembers. He puts his hand out, catches himself on the fence, pushes off and keeps running. He glances behind as he does and sees Makado, face drawn, eyes grim, nodding at him, just behind. He can smell the gastric bulb ahead.

The lights snap off with an audible click and a hum of powering-down electrical lines. "Fuck!" Peter yells, skidding to a stop, drawing the two boys closer in so they don't fall. Makado plows into his back and Peter stumbles but keeps his balance.

"Why the hell are the lights off?" she asks. "Did we lose power?"

"We must have," Peter says, snapping the flashlight from his belt and clicking it on. He angles it upwards towards one of the heavy-duty fluorescent fixtures but can't see any obvious signs of damage. "We must have," he repeats.

"Makado to Control, over," Makado intones, pressing her earpiece deeper into her ear. She repeats herself twice before shaking her head and pulling out her radio and flicking through the channels. "This is Makado," she says on the general line. "We've got a power loss in LGZ Bravo, can anybody confirm if this is localized?"

Nothing but static, stronger than before. She looks at Peter significantly. "It must be the whole park," she says after a moment. "The repeaters are down."

She looks at the kids. "We need to move. Now."

"Wait, Makado –"

"No time," she says, hustling them along towards the ranger station. The constriction hits before she's taken ten steps, and it's so strong that Peter drops his flashlight, sending it skidding crazily ahead of them and then off of the walkway through the fence, casting shadows that flex and writhe and skitter. The girl is screaming and Makado is huddling over her, keeping her still; one of the boys, Tyler, he thinks, cries out, and he can hear Fitzroy breathing heavily at his side, and Peter realizes that without even thinking about it he has grabbed them both and taken them down to the floor of the walkway with him. He wants to squeeze his eyes shut and wait for it to be over but he forces himself not to. Outside the fence the fleshy walls of the conduit they're in are writhing and convulsing. He can hear the faint, distant rumble of a carnal moan, coming from somewhere deep in the Pit's gullet, but the actual noise is really fairly soft; just a wet, squishing sound, the slapping of muscle twitching and clenching in on itself, and then a sound that strikes dread into his very core – the snapping pop of a hydraulic stent failing.

The lights flicker back online, which surprises Peter, and as they all blink in the sudden brightness he and Makado lock eyes; he sees from her expression that she also heard the stent fail, and they scramble to their feet, hauling the kids upwards with them. The girl is clutching her wrist; she looks almost mad with fear, staring around at the fleshy walls of the corridor, several feet closer to the fence than they were before the lights went out and still shuddering and convulsing against the retaining plate in the ceiling. He hears the stent nearest them let out a dangerous hiss. Makado shakes her head.

"Double-time it," she commands, starting back down the corridor.

"Makado, wait," he repeats, looking back down towards the elevator, a long way off and out of sight.

"No time," she says, pushing the girl ahead of her. Halfway down, where the stent failed, the fence has been bent inwards and the flesh is puckered into a wrinkled, ugly cone, leaving enough room to crawl through. It would be tight, though, and likely the fence would catch on some of their gear. Makado touches her earpiece and swears, pulls it out, then takes out her radio and examines it. Even from ten feet away Peter can see that it's busted; she must have fallen on it when the convulsion knocked her off her feet. "We need to get to that ranger station," she tells Peter, and he shakes his head.

"Makado, we can't."

"What?"

"Think about it. The power was still out when that convulsion hit," he explains, pulling his own radio out and handing it to her. As she takes it and plugs her earpiece into it, he continues. "If the power was out, then the hydraulics would have been out too. And if –"

"Shit, you're right," she says, reaching out to steady herself as another tremble runs through the corridor. Almost a full second after, they feel the walkway shudder as the Pit convulses again, someplace deeper in its anatomy. Tyler stumbles and Peter reaches out and catches him. For the first time since he's known her, Makado looks unsure. Past her shoulder, Peter sees the crumpled cone of flesh ahead of them crunch inwards another inch or so. He can see blood dripping down from the chain links where they've dug into it. He shakes his head.

"If we go down that way," he says, pointing at it, "we'll get trapped down there. And if the ranger station slipped or got dislodged and it's sinking into the bulbule right now..."

Another convulsion rocks through the corridor. Makado falls to her knees, then pitches sideways – the cone has finally crushed the fence entirely and canted that section of walkway at a crazy angle. Past it they hear a muffled thump as another stent fails. The Pit shudders.

Peter holds out his hand and Makado takes it. She nods at him.

"Alright," she says. "Let's go."

"Are we going to –" Tyler starts, but Peter shakes his head.

"No talking," he says, grabbing ahold of Tyler and Fitzroy's hands. "We need to go."

Two more stents collapse as they make their way down the corridor, jogging now, not willing to risk a full sprint in case of another rolling wave of convulsions pitching the walkway beneath them and throwing them off. Luckily, the stents ahead seem to be holding. The second stent that collapsed did so barely twenty seconds after they passed under it, and the noise was so loud that even Makado yelped in surprise and the five of them huddled closer together for a moment, watching the muscles of the Pit crush the reinforced steel into an irregular ovoid pellet. After that they hurried even quicker. The utility lift they're heading to is contained within a reinforced access shaft, one that Peter reasons will likely have been able to withstand the convulsions of the Pit, even if they've gotten bad. He wonders briefly, stumbling a little amid flickering lights as the corridor tilts again, what things are like in the Visitor Center; if the power went out and there was a choke response simultaneously, there could have conceivably been some serious damage.

"Hey, Mak," he calls ahead, and Makado turns, breathing heavily, looks at him. She's told him not to call her that, not at work at least, but he figures that right now it's the least of their concerns. Plus it's easier to say, fewer syllables; less of a strain on his tiring lungs. Tyler is practically done for already and Fitzroy isn't doing much better. It's a long distance to the elevator and every branch they pass, Peter's seen something worrying. Corridor to Rest Stop 23? Collapsed inwards when a stent failed close to their end of the corridor. Lots of blood. The Pit's or some poor ranger or visitor trapped in exactly the wrong place? There's nothing so dramatic as an arm or a hand or a leg sticking out of the scrunched, wrinkled orifice. Corridor to the Lower Interpit Campground? There's a lesser copepod lurking on the rounded, livid ceiling, roughly the size of a deer, antennae prickling with anticipation as he and Makado stopped to consider it. Further down the lights were flickering, and even further down the lights were out entirely. They looked at each other and Makado shook her head.

"Mak," he says again. "Have you gotten anything on the radio?"

"Thought I told you not to call me that," she mutters, fiddling with the radio. She unplugs her earpiece, turns the volume up. They all listen; even Fitzroy and the girl cock their heads intently. Where before there was static and the tantalizing hint of communication, just too fuzzy for them to be able to make out, there is just a worrying soft noise. "The repeater must be completely fucked," she says. She switches to the general channel. "This is Makado, can anybody hear this? Respond, over."

The seconds tick by. Somewhere close by but obscured by pounds and yards of flesh, a stent collapses. Peter jumps when it does, the thumping noise like the beating of a heart, praying that it wasn't any place they needed to go.

The convulsions have slowed now, still passing in rolling waves of panic, but with longer and longer intervals between them. Even the girl, whose name he still does not know, doesn't shriek when the walls writhe, but merely looks at them with a horrible emptiness in her eyes, as though she's simply waiting for it to be over. She hasn't spoken a word in about ten minutes now, and Makado has to coax her into jogging with them when they do move forward.

Makado shakes her head, holds the button down again. "This is Makado," she repeats. "Can anybody –"

The radio squawks and they all jump. Makado nearly drops it. "-akado, it's – trapped in the –" a voice says, tinny with static. Peter can barely make it out, let alone determine who it is. Once the noise stops Makado taps the button twice. "Makado here, I don't know who said that but we can barely hear you, please repeat? Over."

"Makado," comes the reply, a little better. "It's Carl. Can you hear – now? Respond please."

"Carl, we hear you," she says urgently. "Are you alright?"

"No," he says. He sounds frightened. "I'm in access tunnel 32, a stent... -apsed and I'm trapped, I can get into - ...Campground, but –"

From there, the broadcast devolves into indistinguishable noise. Makado frowns at Peter. "Access tunnel 32, that's on the other side of the Campground, right?"

"Yeah," Peter nods. "32, 41, and 17 feed into it."

"Carl, we heard most of that," she broadcasts. "Get to the campground and sit tight, Peter and I will rendezvous there in ten minutes, how copy?"

Nothing. Nothing at all. Peter blows his breath out. "The campground is probably a mess right now."

"Yes," Makado agrees, "but it won't have constricted enough to have blocked off passage, it's too big of a bulb. We can get through and then meet up with Carl, and then we can all get to the elevator and take off together. If he's alone in there –"

"Do you want to split up?" Peter asks, looking significantly at the teenagers. They've been watching Peter and Makado's conversation with terrified faces. They seem to have accepted for the moment that they're safe, but whatever claustrophobia they might have had before they entered the Pit is coming back in spades. Tyler keeps looking up at the ceiling as though it might collapse inwards on them at any moment, although, realistically speaking, a collapse like that would be all sides and all angles at once, realistically speaking, and if it were bad, they'd be pinned between the fence and the walkway and get the breath crushed out of them that way.

"No, absolutely not," Makado says. "We've all got to stick together."

"But the kids –"

"I am not letting them go off alone and get picked off by a shamble or something, and I am not letting you or myself go and try to meet up with Carl alone and have the same damn thing happen. Did you see the size of that copepod back there?" she asks, jerking her thumb over her shoulder. "We'll have to go that way, you know."

"I know, I know, it's just –"

She reaches out, puts her hand on his shoulder, pulls him inwards. For one insane moment Peter thinks she is about to kiss him, but then her chin lands on his shoulder and she whispers into his ear, "Pete, I'm scared too. I don't want to die down here. But we have got to get these kids out, and we have to get Carl. If he's hurt, if he's in trouble, we're going to help him. You and me can make it happen."

Peter nods after a moment and then Makado squeezes his shoulder and is gone, hunkering down and gathering the three teenagers close to her. "Listen to me, guys," she says, "I need you two," she says, looking at Tyler and Fitzroy, to take care of...honey, what's your name?"

Peter sees the girl's lips move but she doesn't actually say anything. "Her name is Eileen," Fitzroy says.

"Eileen," Makado says, "you're doing great."

"I'm scared," Eileen murmurs.

"I know, honey, but you're doing great. We're going to be down here for just a little longer and then we'll be going outside, okay?"

"We have to go get your friend, don't we?" Tyler asks, and Makado nods. Peter turns around so that the three teenagers won't be able to see and takes out his service pistol, checks that it's loaded. He knows it is but something about doing this makes him feel a little better.

When he turns back around the kids look a little better. Tyler looks determined, at least, and Fitzroy doesn't look quite as panicked as before. He doesn't know what Makado told them; probably some kind of empty promise about them being back on the surface quickly. No, stop that, he thinks. We will be back on the surface quickly. This is just a choke response. They probably already have pumps working in the sand gullet. Everything will be fine.

They make the trip down to the campground cautiously. The copepod lurking on the ceiling has disappeared since they moved past and Peter isn't sure whether or not that's a good sign. When they get to the darkened section of the hallway Peter draws his pistol. Makado looks at him, as do the kids. He gives them a smile and shrugs. "Just in case," he explains.

But they are lucky and don't run into anything, other than another lesser copepod, a smaller one than the one before, that takes one look at them and scurries off like an overgrown cockroach.

The campground is situated in a large gastric bulb that, a very long time ago, had been drained of its contents and various campsites marked out, which provided for slightly more comfortable camping quarters than just setting up a tent in a bronchial canal or other tubule. It was roomy, with fairly spectacular calcium deposits for an area as high up in the Pit as it was. There were even a few electrical outlets, as well as a restroom. The convulsions have put all that to hell, though; the restroom and camping platforms have cracked and tilted, and while the retaining shunts and plates seem to be alright, there's a small rupture in the ceiling where it looks like a bone might have torn through the thin, vulnerable flesh, and a steady stream of what proves to be gastric juices is pouring in from the tear, mixing noxiously with the Pit's blood and falling in thick, sticky rivulets to the floor, where it's already collected in a depression. A small pack of macrobacteria, about ten or so, are rolling about the pool; they must have came in from the entrance to the lower organ trails, over there on the left, a dark, gaping chasm in the floor. The stairs leading down to it still seem intact, so perhaps everything's alright down there – but, Peter reflects, if macrobacteria have gotten in, that means that something nastier might have as well.

"Do you see Carl?" he asks Makado, sweeping the beam of her flashlight across the vast bulb. The campground looks deserted, as it should have – there wasn't anybody in here all day, as far as he knows. There weren't any permits issued for this area, at any rate, so nobody, no guests at least, should have been in here.

"I don't –" Makado starts, then trails off. He glances back at her and then follows the beam of her flashlight, and sees a body laid out on the floor, almost in the corner of the bulb, with a round macrobacterium squatting evilly on its upper chest. He can see the ranger suit and knows it must be Carl, it simply must be.

"Shit," Peter says, taking a step forwards.

"Peter," Makado hisses, desperate. "Peter, don't."

"I have to see," he growls. "He might be okay."

"He's gone, Peter."

"Goddam it!" he says, as loud as he dares. One of the macrococci tumbling about the gastric stream pauses for a moment and they watch with bated breath, but it resumes its gamboling just as quickly. Peter creeps closer to Carl's supine form, the sucking noises the bacterium is making nearly turning his stomach. When he gets to within about ten feet of it he looks back at Makado. She shakes her head slowly but Peter can't stop, he has to know, he'd want Carl to be this tenacious for him, he'd want every effort to be made. He looks at the macrococcus; it's big and spiky, the size of a beach ball, its oral groove turned to Carl's face. He'll be okay, Peter tells himself, he's just passed out because of lack of oxygen, he's suffocating. If I get it off of him he'll be fine.

The bacterium's flagellae waggle with slow, lazy motions that Peter can't help but interpret as satisfaction. "Fuck it," he mutters, then takes a few running steps and swings his leg out like he were kicking a football and punts the bacterium away from Carl. It's a magnificent kick, really; it sails off in an arc and splatters against a calcium deposit fully thirty or forty feet away, a thick yellow mucus bursting out of it like a water balloon, the thing's deflated skin sliding weakly and wetly to the ground. Peter sees none of this; he can feel his gorge rising. Behind him, Makado groans and covers Eileen's eyes; Tyler looks away, but Fitzroy cannot stop looking, for there, limp on the ground, is the maculated, jawless corpse of Carl, his eyes popped and sucked out of their sockets, his tongue abraded to a stump, all of the flesh from his cheekbones to his collarbone devoured by the macrobacterium.

Peter doesn't recognize Makado when she grabs his arm and drags him away, cursing at him, begging him to work with her here, dammit, doesn't notice when Tyler and Fitzroy both take ahold of him and help pull him back the way they came. He regains control of his legs somewhere along the access pathway. They make it to the elevator and Peter collapses against the thick reinforced wall, eyes shut, still feeling queasy. He can't get the image of Carl's half-eaten face out of his mind. Makado pushes the button and then goes, sits next to him, rests her head on his shoulder. The kids huddle in their own corner, equally drained and exhausted. Eileen threw up on the way there and she still looks green.

"I'm sorry," Makado says.

"I should have listened to you," Peter tells her. "I should have just..."

"Don't."

"I should have –"

"Peter, don't."

He realizes that he's crying, then a moment later realizes that Makado is as well.

The elevator is on its way down, the readout proclaims, and Fitzroy lets out a ragged whoop. Makado lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and wipes her eyes. "Alright," she says, looking at the teenagers. "We're halfway there. It'll take a little bit for the elevator to get here, but we're halfway there. You guys are doing great."

Mumbles and nods. Peter gets up and stretches. He feels a little better. Eileen even manages a little smile, after some coaxing from Makado.

It's quiet for a moment or two, and then there is a crackle from the PA speaker on the wall. Everyone looks up at it; Makado frowns, glances at Peter. "Anybody who can hear this," the voice states, "brace for choke response RIGHT NOW!"

Peter has only a split second to see the flash of panic flutter across the broad, fine lines of Makado's face before the floor bucks beneath them and hurls him into the wall head-first, and darkness takes him.

 Continue with Part 5

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[alternativewinxcontinuity]

So a few months ago (last year maybe? oh my god what is linear time?!) I was thinking about how I would do a live action reboot, I’ve spoken about Fate Saga before but, I was just reminded of it again and... *sigh*

Anyway, from the long forgotten recesses of my files: here’s the outline (for episode 1) and notes (for the series) for how I would have handled it... except not, because I used Beatrix* and I would not have bothered with her if I could help it. I replaced Terra with our usual cast though. (...re-replaced? unplaced? deplaced? meh, nvm.)

*Beatrix is apparently the character replacing the entire Trix (last time I dared to pay proper attention) and I figured I might as well.

Episode one:

We open on aerial views of Gardenia, showing the town early in the day and meandering into Vanessa's Flower Shop. Bloom is helping her mother out around the shop, sorting a new arrival of decorative vases and notices one is chipped. She scolds it, “first day and you're already on the discount shelf,” puts it down and calls out to her mother when she can't find the ticket gun.

As she walks away to find it, a close up on the vase shows the damage repairing itself (or already gone).

Bloom and her mother banter for a bit, and Bloom teases her mother that 'working for my summer break wasn't what I had in mind.' Her mother teases back and implies that Bloom might be getting a very late gift for her sixteenth birthday. A very late gift.

When Bloom guesses 'car', her mother mother replies that 'it does have wheels and she can use it to carry things,' before having a friendly stare down with Bloom which leads Bloom to 'it’s a bike isn't it.'

Bloom returns to the vases with the ticket gun, but can't find the spot of damage on the vase, and decided she must have imagined it.

Bloom gets back to work, though slightly uneasy.

[scene change]

It is clearly later in the day, the sun getting low, Bloom is checking her phone and walking down the street, a delicious looking beverage in one hand. A girl about the same age as Bloom spots her as she's out for a walk of her own.

Smirking the girl strides up to Bloom and deliberately bumps into her, spilling the drink over both of them and pushing Bloom into a nearby hedge.

The girl starts going off at Bloom, demanding to be repaid for the [high end fashion brand] shirt that Bloom has just ruined.

Struggling to get out of the hedge, Bloom fires back, identifying the girl as Mitzy, and demanding to know why the girl is always like this. Wanting to know what she (Bloom) had ever done to her (Mitzy) that made her want to bully Bloom, even on their school holidays.

Mitzy answers back with something inane, and Bloom shrieks trying to lunge at Mitzy while still half in the hedge.

The Hedge ignites, and Mizty bolts, leaving Bloom to scramble from the burning hedge by her self and scrabble for her phone to call the fire department.

Bloom stares at the burning hedge in shock.

[scene transition]

Bloom stares at the smoking hedge in shock, it is even later in the day, almost dusk, and there is now a fire truck beside her. She is startled back to reality by one of the firemen asking her if she's alright.

She assures him (identifying him as her father) that she's okay but... she thinks she might have started the fire.

Her father, confused, asks what she means by that, and she explains that she thinks her anger might have been what started the fire.

Weird things have been happening to her, something strange is going on. Her father looks worried but says there's likely a good explanation and they can talk more at home, and does Bloom need a lift?

[scene change]

Bloom and her father – Mike – arrive home together to find a worried Vanessa who's heard about the fire. (Because Mike called her earlier.)

As they enter their house, Bloom frowns at a nice looking car because it's parked in what is technically their family's visitor parking. She asks if they have a guest, (Is it Grandma?) only to be told they don't have anyone visiting, and the conversation moves to Bloom's concerns she shared with her father.

[scene shift]

Interior of the house, the family sits down and Mike and Vanessa ask Bloom to tell them about the things she's been dealing with, the 'weird stuff going on around her'.

She tells them about several things, seemingly small things that could just be tricks of the mind, but which happen far to frequently to be normal... unless she has early onset dementia, she asks if they know if her birth family had a history of mental illness, but her parents don't know.

Talking together they decide that now is a good time for Bloom to receive the few items left to her by her birth family.

There's a medallion with strange symbols, a blanket sized for an infant, and a book in a strange language that Bloom swears she can almost read.

Her parents leave Bloom to go through her things and let her know they're there if she needs them.

Bloom has a montage of researching the symbols on the medallion and comes up with an ancient stone ring (like Stonehenge but smaller), dozens scattered around the planet that have similar symbols. (fringe scientists say aliens, but all folk lore associated with them falls under 'fairy tales'.)

During this montage a live bunny moves around the scenes, occasionally getting hugged as an emotional support bunny. It is a strange bluish shade of grey.

[scene change]

At breakfast the next morning Bloom tells her parents what she's discovered about the Fairy Rings, and asks if she can go see the closest one. Her parents share a look and take her outside to show her the car Bloom frowned at yesterday.

“It's your late present from Grandma.” her parents tell her, and Bloom expresses joyed disbelief, then sadness that she'd missed her Grandma again, mentioning that she hasn't seen her in so long she probably wouldn't recognise her if they passed in the street.

[brief montage]

Bloom prepares for her road trip, her parents checking the route with her and helping her pack her bags, giving the rabbit goodbye kisses as she leaves it with her family.

Bloom drives for a few minutes, various backgrounds passing by the windows (possibly one or two outfit changes) until she comes to a heavy and ancient feeling forest which sprawls across the land covering at least part of a mountain range.

Bloom gets out of the car and gives her parents a call to let them know she arrived. She jokes that it would be easier to ask Grandma if only she didn't spend 99.9% of the time 'off the grid'.

Bloom hikes through the forest to a clearing part way up the mountainside.

The circle of standing stones is partly moss covered and Bloom seems reluctant to remove the moss because she's in a nature reserve. She moves into the circle and pulls out her Medallion to compare the symbols only for the stones to begin humming. Bloom stumbles as the stones light up and makes for the edge of the ring, but before she can exit there's a flash of light. When it fades the Fairy Ring Bloom was investigating is empty.

[scene change]

Bloom trips and hits the ground, retching slightly before scrambling to her feet clearly dizzy, she stumbles and reaches out to grab one of the standing stone only to pull back, eyeing the stone warily.

Then has a 'what the hell?' moment, because not only are the stones moss free, they seem to be made of a different type of stone, and she is no longer in the same place.

A loud screeching noise pierces the air and Bloom startles, but then a muddied voice says something she can't quite make out, and she decides “screw it, people! Someone will know what's going on!... and I have literally no better options.”

Racing through the very different forest Bloom quickly finds a young woman fighting what she can only call monsters. The young woman, a blonde in strange garments wielding a staff with a fancy ornament at one end, seems to be tiring.

Bloom grabs a heavy looking branch and starts whacking. The duo manage to do okay, but they can both see it's a losing fight. They manage to get close enough for the blonde to tell Bloom the plan, which is just: make a gap and get back to the Fairy Ring.

They race back along the path Bloom took and she tries asking what the hell is going on, but the Blonde is too out of breath. They make it to the Ring and the blonde tells Bloom “hands on the staff”, Bloom complies without question and the stones flare again, shifting both of them to yet another Fairy Circle.

The blonde falls on her ass clearly worn out, and Bloom turns as she drops to her knees to puke.

A voice calls out to a 'princess Stella' and a strict looking woman appears to inform the blonde that she'd been expected three hours ago. The blonde, apparently princess Stella explains she'd been attacked, her transport had been hacked somehow and she'd been dumped out she didn't even know where, and would have probably died if not for her saviour.

Proper introductions are made between Bloom, Princess Stella and the stern woman who's name is Madam Griselda. Stella informs Bloom that since they just survived life and death together, they are totes besties now.

Bloom responds with a dubious “cool... where are we?”

Stella: the Arrival Ring of Alfea Academy of Fairy Magic, duh?

Bloom: Where on Earth is that?

Stella: what's Earth?

Griselda: ahem! Perhaps this is a conversation for inside, others may be trying to use the Ring, we still have several students not yet here. Go see Headmistress Faragonda!

Griselda makes Stella sign and gives her a student ID blank and a Bloom a visitor pass as she shoos them away. Bloom looks back to see Griselda doing something with one of the stone pillars.

Stella and Bloom chat as they walk, Stella trying to figure out why Bloom's so confused. They have to stop part way down the path as Bloom takes a moment to freak out as she realises she's not on Earth anymore but a Planet called Magix, and the girl in front of her is the crown princess of an entirely different Planet called Solaria.

Bloom: what the hell is my life right now?! I was just trying to find out more about my birth parents!

Stella (awkwardly holding one hand and patting her forearm): look, I've never heard of your home world, but you saved my life, and I like you, so no matter what happens, you'll be okay, I'll look out for you.

They resolve to ask Headmistress Faragonda if she knows anything about Earth when Stella checks in with her as instructed by Griselda.

The duo pass out of the trees that were blocking their view and Bloom has a 'oh wow' moment as she sees Alfea for the first time.

[artistic scene change]

The camera leaves the duo, panning around the school, showing various other young women, (pausing briefly on a few that fans of the cartoon will recognise) before focusing back down through a window to catch up with Stella and Bloom who have made their way to Faragonda's office.

After knocking they are called inside and Bloom pauses as she catches sight of Faragonda, who looks at her with some surprise and what almost seems like recognition, but the expression is gone in an instant and Faragonda asks the girls what happened.

Stella launches into a speech which catches the audience up on her side of the story before Bloom quickly recaps the episode thus far – got a medallion left to me by my birth parents, went searching, found stones, got teleported, kicked butt, ran, arrived here.

Faragonda tells Bloom that without knowing which Ring she'd initially come from, they'd be hard pressed to send her back. They could try a thing which boils down to return call, but that would send her first to the place she and Stella had been running from.

Considering it too dangerous, Faragonda promises to look into things and offers Bloom a place to stay in the mean time, telling her she's welcome to sit in on classes while she's here – after all, Bloom could only have entered the school without a special allowance if she herself was a fairy. (The guest pass doesn’t count)

Stella, super excited about the idea tugs Bloom by the hand, dragging her from the room.

[Scene shift]

The camera pans around to show the school's courtyard from Fragonda's window as Stella shows Bloom to the dorms via the scenic route.

Fragonda stands by the window watching them.

Griselda appears beside her watching over her shoulder.

Griselda: should I prepare for trouble?

Fragonda: … yes, and rather a lot of it I'm afraid...

[Episode ends.]

Next episode the rest of the Winx are introduced, and Bloom begins to learn about the powers she's recently had awakening within her. Fate Saga exclusive character Beatrix begins cropping up.

The Winx begin attempting to investigate Bloom's past via the Medallion, and Faragonda watches on with worry.

Tecna manages to trick out Bloom's phone so she can call her parents to tell them she's met some friends and found a lead and won't be home for a while yet.

Tecna gives the location data she gained from Bloom's phone call to Faragonda in the hopes of helping Bloom get home.

Episode ends with Bloom awakening from a dream (of Daphne), and Beatrix believing she's found a lead to her own investigation.

The following (4**) episodes focus on a mix of Bloom learning magic, the group researching the Medallion and discovering the markings are an ancient dialect belonging to Domino – but that's been a dead world for ages and the dialect wasn't exclusive to the planet.

Bloom has more Daphne dreams; fragments of the dream seem to be Daphne giving her lessons of a spiritual/magical nature.

The Winx realise Beatrix is up to something and share their observations with Faragonda, but when things come to a head at the end of the season, they're the ones who are there at the right time and the Winx fight Beatrix who is trying to steal a crystalline flame.

The artefact destroys Beatrix in the end and Faragonda assures the Winx they aren't at fault and oh btw, Faragonda has found a way to get Bloom home.

The Winx want Bloom to stay with them, but she says she needs to go see her parents, but she'll be back if that's okay with Faragonda, because there's still some things she needs to investigate.

Season closes with several short scenes: Griselda and Faragonda talk about what happened, and suspect Beatrix wasn't a real person, and refer to the Crystal Flame as Daphne's Heart. Griselda tells Faragonda that it might be time to come clean with Bloom.

A sooty, smoking doll on a table surrounded by a trio of out of focus women is the recipient of scorn and derision, the doll looks like Beatrix and the trio make it clear Griselda and Faragonda's suspicions were correct and Beatrix was a fake person the “mysterious trio” had made to investigate a lead at Alfea.

Bloom returns to Earth to find her car dusty but intact, and with a little magic she manages to get it started and drives home. When she arrives her mother welcomes her and tells her she has excellent timing: her Grandma is there. Excited Bloom races into the next room where her father is, but stops and stares in confusion when she sees-

“Ms Faragonda?”

End Season

Season two reveals Faragonda was responsible for hiding Bloom on Earth at the behest of a dying Daphne, Daphne's Heart is in fact, actually Daphne who used ancient magic to preserve her consciousness so she could pass on her knowledge to Bloom, who is basically the last of their bloodline and the (as far as anyone knows) only survivor of Domino.

Season 2 introduces the Boys and the Trix. (Also Aisha if she can't be shoehorned into season 1)

**unless it’s changed or I’m recalling wrong, the Fate Saga season 1 episode count was six hour long episodes?