#ugh will i ever stop hating my body and just live my life without focusing on that stupid number

[niallandtommo]

.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 8.2; Lantern Rite Part 1

You never had the chance to push Childe for answers on his vague statement, even after the two of you arrived in Liyue on the afternoon of the Lantern Rite.  It was as busy as you remembered, though it was nothing compared to how it would be once the sun set.  You weren't new to the festival, as you had gone a few times with Granny when you were a child, but that was a long time ago.  You were around twelve years old the last time you had joined the festival.

Being here again was like a breath of fresh air.  

It was a shame that breath of fresh air turned stale when Childe continued to prod at you.  "So, ojou-chan, what will you be doing after dark?"  He had intentionally turned it into a suggestive question, his smug brow raising slightly even after you glared daggers at him.

"I'm going to walk around, of course," you replied without giving him an inch.  "And I'm going to find Aether and Zhongli, too."

"Oh? Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"What I do in my free time is none of your business," your jaw tightened.  "You, Tartaglia, are literally a child.  Why don't you step aside and let your elders do what they want?  I am older than you, you know."

"I see you've picked up Signora's attitude," he moped and finally dropped the subject.

Perhaps you had, even though you hated her with all your life force after the trick she pulled at Angel's Share.  Even so, you couldn't help but bite the harbinger that fed you after he made strange offhanded comments about his own behavior, or his self-proclaimed 'apology' gift, or the way he held you the first time you felt Xiao's suffering.  You still couldn't figure out what was going on with him, and quite frankly, you could care less.  That's what you told yourself, anyway.

Was he an ally or an enemy?

"Earth to Mezzetin."  He rudely poked at your forehead.  "Is everything alright?  You've been obnoxiously loud all day and now you're quiet."

"You do realize you're equally as obnoxious?"  You met his eyes head-on after pulling away from your thoughts.  "I'm hungry."

"Ah, thought so.  Here," he handed you a heavy sack of mora without warning.  "I'll be at Northland Bank if you need anything."

"Eh? That's it?"  You watched him begin to walk off, expecting much more of a threat to your life if you so much as thought about running.

"You said it yourself ojou-chan, you're an adult," he called out over his shoulder.  "I'd expect you to act like one in these circumstances."

"Wha--!"  You scoffed at his shrinking figure as he climbed the stairs to the Snezhnayan bank.  "Ugh, whatever." Your gaze fell to the mora pouch in your hands.  Maybe I'll stop by the funeral parlor first and find Zhongli.

When you did, the archon paled at the sudden surprise appearance.  "How did you find yourself in Liyue Harbor?"  He scanned your body as if you were to be handled with care.  "I was under the impression you would remain at Zapolyarny Palace until further notice.  How did you happen to gain the Tsaritsa's trust so quickly?"

"Eh, you'll have to ask Childe that."  You didn't notice Zhongli's eyes narrow with contempt.  "He won't tell me why they decided to have me accompany him here," you answered without skipping a beat.  Though the archon was certainly thrown off guard, the two of you appeared to start right where you had left off like none of the events in the past two months had ever occurred in the first place.  It was refreshing to be with a friendly presence again, and you sighed in relief, hiding a wince from the sharp pain in your ribcage.

The movement didn't go unnoticed by Zhongli.  "Ah, yes...Allow me to brew you some tea.  The leaves I've gathered recently have exceptional pain-relieving qualities, though they don't compare to that of Xiao's medications--"

"How is he?"  Your interruption stopped the man in his tracks.  "Is he okay?"  If Zhongli knew you were feeling Xiao's pain, that meant the yaksha had been in contact.

"He's as well as he can be, given the circumstances he's been burdened with.  Do not worry yourself with him.  Please, take a seat."

You watched Zhongli's graceful movements as he prepared a kettle and brought the water to a boil, dropping the leaves in when it was hot enough.  You were oblivious to the thoughts that ran through his mind as he sent a wry smile your way.

That day, I made a grave miscalculation, Zhongli thought back to the group's encounter with Childe in Fontaine.  A guilty sigh escaped his lips as he poured the tea into two ceramic teacups.

.....................

Deception.  Maybe Zhongli was a little too good at playing the part of an innocent bystander, if he had succeeded in fooling Aether not once, but twice.  But this route would be the only way to ensure yours and Xiao's sanity...The archon grit his teeth as he parried Childe's relentless blows in the pouring rain.  The harbinger didn't hold back even though this was all for show.

How long did the fighting go on? Twenty minutes? Thirty?  An hour?  Childe gave the signal to Zhongli as he summoned his fifth and final narwhal using the rain that fell around them.  Most of the group was worn out from constantly changing tactics as the harbinger switched between his vision and delusion.  Childe was so much stronger than the first time he faced off with Aether...but so was Aether.  Zhongli understood the only way to make this plan work would be to sacrifice his two closest allies in one way or another.

"Retreat!"  Zhongli gave the order and an exhausted trio followed it without question.  Well, except for Aether.

"We can't leave Xiao!"

.................

He had hoped he gave Xiao the push he needed to seal the bond, but it apparently was not enough..."Here is your tea," he placed the teacup in front of you before sitting at the opposite end of the table.  "Tell me, have they remained true to their word and put an end to your experiments?"

You blew at your steaming cup before taking a small sip.  "Yeah...They've already begun testing on Fatui agents, but every single one of them dies.  It's funny, actually.  Dottore still can't figure out the correct ratio for my blood.  I've watched hundreds die."

"And how are you?"

That question was loaded, but you swallowed the nervous chuckle that had bubbled in your throat.  "I'm just glad to be so close to home." To him, you meant, even if the two of you never actually met up during your stay here.  Your eyes trailed to the window, and Zhongli noticed the sadness in the depths of your gaze as you watched people decorate the buildings with xiao lanterns.

"Xiao will be especially busy today, fighting off the demons that rise from the festivities," he answered your looming question.  "But I am sure he would find the time to meet you if he knew you were here."

"You know, I hold most of his memories, but I can never seem to know what he's thinking."  Your low voice captured the archon's attention again after a few silent minutes.  You were saying it more to yourself than to spark a conversation, eyes still gazing out the window.  "Maybe I am chasing after a fruitless dream."

"Your love for Xiao is strong."

"Eh?" Your head snapped back to the present moment.  "H-how did you--did he--?"

Your flustered composure drew out a low chuckle from Zhongli, and he set his teacup aside.  "I've lived for six thousand years; I know a thing or two about human concepts and emotions.  The entire group has known for quite some time."

"I was that obvious?" An insane amount of heat rose to your cheeks and you buried your face in your hands.  "So did he know before I...?"

"Xiao may be a few thousand years old, but he understands humans less than I do.  I can confidently say you caught him off guard."

You peeked out from behind your fingers.  "Hm?"

"It is not my place to say anything more on the matter," his lips tugged into a friendly grin as he brought the teacup to his lips once again.  "But I would not call it a 'fruitless' dream."

.................

The lanterns that lit the streets of Liyue illuminated the bustling crowds of people that were focused on getting food, souvenirs, and lanterns that were to be released later that evening.  You had parted ways with Zhongli in an effort to find Aether, with no luck in locating the boy even after nightfall.  Despite this, you navigated the festival alone in hopes of running into him as you eyed the food stalls.

That is, until the voices grew louder.  You swayed on your feet from the unexpected wave of nausea that overcame you, and grabbed onto one of the support beams next to the stairs.  Xiao was fighting something again, wasn't he?  You had felt the damned creep up on you as the day progressed, but nothing prepared you for the jarring pains that were too similar to the first time you had felt this side effect.  You nearly puked from the overwhelming sensation, coughing into your hand only for it to be splattered with blood.

Not again, you stared in horror as you hastily blinked away the splotches in your vision.  A quick glance around confirmed that there were children in the immediate vicinity, and you didn't want to scar them with the sight of you on what was supposed to be a happy night.  Your eyes flit to the distant building that housed the Northland Bank, and you were determined to make it there even if it was a bit too far for you to walk at the moment.

You stumbled through the crowd on unsteady feet and shallow breath until you bumped shoulders with a boy and tripped.  "Ngh!"  The impact worsened your dilemma, and your eyes caught those of the person you ran into.

"Sorry!  Wait, are you okay, ma'am?"  The white-haired boy retracted his outstretched hand and instead knelt at your side to offer his shoulder.  "You..."  This energy....could it be that I can finally...?

"U-um, excuse me."  You struggled to your feet and tried to make your way to the bank again.  This time you were immediately halted by the boy.  

"Ma'am, are you by any chance experiencing paranormal activity?"  His hard gaze made you hold your breath without realizing.  When he saw your eyes flash as if someone had held a lantern to your face, his grip on your shoulder loosened ever so slightly.  "My name's Chongyun.  I'm an exorcist.  Do you mind if we speak in private?"

He brought you to the docs, which were a little less crowded than the main area of the harbor.  Chongyun watched as you sat down and steadied your breathing while attempting to sneakily wipe away the blood that dripped from the corner of your mouth.  

I finally haven't scared them off, the boy thought as he stared at you in wonder.  Why now, though?  "Ma'am, can you tell me what's going on?"

"I-I appreciate your concern," you ground your teeth together while another wave of pain consumed you, "but I d-don't need your help."

"When did you start feeling this way?"  Chongyun sat with his legs crisscrossed in front of you, and summoned a deck of cards from his pocket.  Anger boiled as you watched him shuffle them in his hands and set them in the space between you one at a time.

"I wouldn't do that," you growled while your thoughts grew hazy.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt you."  He started mumbling some sort of incoherent verses before flipping one of the cards.

"I said DON'T!"

Chongyun caught your hand before it could swipe the cards away from the pier's surface, and he locked eyes with you.  He took a deep breath before speaking as if you were the one agitating him.  "Those are the evil spirits talking.  I can tell you're not that far gone.  Sit patiently, and I can help you."

You blinked for a moment and regained some control over yourself, relaxing your shoulders once he let go of your wrist.  "What is it you're trying to do?"

"Purge evil; it's my job.  We exorcists have protected Liyue for generations," he flipped another card over, noting your tension rising again before dying down.  Whatever he was doing with those cards seemed to piss off the voices in your head.

"Like adepti?"  You grimaced when he replaced one of the cards with another.  

"Yes, much like the Guardian Yaksha of Liyue," he replied calmly while testing your reaction with another card.  "I have much respect for him, but--"

"Xiao?  Have you seen him?"  Your hand burned when you grabbed his, but you ignored it once you caught his attention.  "Have you seen him recently?"  

"You know him by name?"  Chongyun was as confused as you were.  "That's odd, I thought we were the only ones who--"

"Hey!"  A high-pitched voice interrupted the conversation, and the two of you turned your heads toward the sound.  Paimon was flying towards you, Aether running right behind her.  "What are you doing here?! Are you okay? Did you escape? Did you kick Childe's butt?"

"I--" Aether stopped himself from hugging you when he saw the dried blood on your hand, his relieved smile fading into a concerned frown as his feet came to a halt.  "...Are you okay?"

"You know each other?"  Chongyun looked between the trio and summoned a new set of cards.  These ones held terrifying symbolism of demonic entities you didn't wish to know the name of, and he placed them over the other ones that sat on the ground.

"Ngh!"  A hand covered your eye in an attempt to put pressure against a sharp pain.  "You can't help me! Enough of this!"

"...W-what's wrong with her?"  Paimon trembled slightly when she heard the uncharacteristic aggressiveness in your voice.  "Is she...possessed?!"  

"Not quite," Chongyun returned his eyes to you in deep thought.  "I've never seen this before..."

"Wait, your positivity didn't scare them off?"  Aether suddenly looked a lot more concerned, and he moved so that he sat beside you.  Chongyun scared every spirit away...if that didn't happen this time, it must've been a bad sign.  "What happened to you in Snezhnaya?"  His voice was a mix of both guilt and anger.

"Zhongli didn't tell you?"  It took all your strength not to attack the three of them as Chongyun put another card down.  

"The group went their separate ways after you..." Aether shook his head and put a hand on your shoulder when he noticed the malice in your stare.  "What did Childe do to you?"

"It's just another side effect," you growled and pushed his hand off.  "I'm not possessed like this guy is saying."

"Is this true?" Paimon's skepticism antagonized you further, but you bit your tongue.

"We should take you to Zhongli," Aether pulled you to your feet without hearing your objections.  If your words were accurate, then there was no way the exorcist could help.  "Sorry, Chongyun!  She'll be fine!"

"W-Wait! Ah-"  Chongyun already lost them in the sea of people that were getting ready to release their lanterns.  It was almost time to fill the sky with the light of human prayers and wishes to the adepti.

..............

Once out of Chongyun's vicinity, the voices dispersed as if nothing had happened.  "What the hell--"  Your confused grumblings caught the attention of Aether as he guided you through the crowd.  "This is so stupid."

"So you're able to feel Xiao's mental distress?"  He glanced back at you for a brief moment once he figured out what he had witnessed.  "At least now, he has someone that can understand a little bit of what he's going through, right?"

"I don't know," interjected Paimon.  "Didn't Zhongli say the yakshas fell one by one from karma?  Wouldn't feeling Xiao's karma kill you?"

"Probably."  Your uninterested answer brought both of them to look at you, only to find that your eyes were surveying the crowd with expectation--or was it hope?  Your companions exchanged knowing, but glum glances.

"He won't be here."

Aether's words went through one ear and out the other.  "Yes he will."

"Um...Paimon doesn't think so.  Xiao doesn't like crowds, remember?"  You were so different than a few months ago...Each sound seemed to startle you or make you wince, and you had a peculiar distant look in your eyes.  Your friends were growing more and more concerned about you.

Xiao, I'm here, you called out in your heart, not fully aware of it.

..........................

Coming up:  A long-awaited reunion.  The fears of a yaksha.  A display of trust.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Meant to be (G.D.)

Summary: There is a reason why the road not travelled seems more appealing, why the past might trick us into believing if we had made different choices, or just done one thing differently, that our lives would be better for it. There is a reason they say ‘Careful what you wish for’ and Grayson is about to find out exactly what it means to have all his dreams come true. Question is, what’s the cost?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, sexual innuendoes, angst, fluff

Word count: 21k

===========================

Regrets are a weight on the heart and a curse on the mind. They bring out the past over and over again, always tormenting its victims with what ifs and promises of a better life. But it always comes at a cost, it always asks for a sacrifice. It drags its victim away from the beauty of their life, forcing them to wonder...

What if…

It's only two words, six letters, but they can change a person. ‘What if’ is a reminder of all the mistakes, of all the roads not taken and while they may not be as good as reality, one would always ponder on the possibility of something more.

What if...

What if..

What if?

For Grayson, his ‘what if’ had always been a little down the road, back when he was just a teenager and his choices were far simpler. Life was simpler, happier.

Becoming a YouTuber didn't entirely fulfill the dreams he once had. It gave him money, women, fame, but it took away his peace of mind and a quiet suburban life with the love of his life.

At least he found the love of his life. Or so he hopes. 

He's been wrong too many times before to dare say the L word now, but being with Ella feels right. Almost right. He'll never get his perfect life even if she is the one and it has nothing to do with her but the choices he's made before they ever met.

Too often would Grayson watch her sleep and question if he should feel guilty about his ‘what if’. Would she judge him for the inner workings of his mind? Would she feel like their relationship is a lie? Like she isn’t enough? 

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Her raspy voice brings a smile on his face and the thoughts aren't as loud as they were before. No one could ever quiet Grayson’s mind like Ella can. It’s as easy as breathing for her, a single look sent his way and Grayson couldn’t focus on anything other than Ella. 

"Some past choices." Grayson never lied to Ella. When they met, she demanded he be honest with her, always. 

Reluctant, Grayson shared his earnest opinions and in time, he realized Ella is right; honesty is the best policy. It helped their relationship develop on a solid foundation, allowing them to grow together. For once, Grayson didn’t want to date every girl with a heartbeat, his attention focused elsewhere - on Ella.

"Like what?" She tilts her head up, her chin resting on his chest and her brown eyes meet his, a look he always cherished. Ella was always quiescent, a snowflake that he protected with his life.

She had the kind of eyes that made a man weak in the knees and while she was bitter about the mundane color, Grayson never saw a more beautiful shade. There was nothing mundane about her.

"Like the time Ethan and I thought we'd go to that private school on a sports’ scholarship." Sighing, Grayson runs his fingers down her back, playing with the strap of her bra. It's black and lacy, the kind she'd wear to seduce him and yet she's not trying. Ella could sense Grayson needs intimacy, conversation, not sex. She knew him so well, read him like an open book.

"If you did that, you'd probably never be a YouTuber. You wouldn't have the money, the fame, the experiences you have now." Biting her lip, she pauses before speaking timidly, "You wouldn't have the people you have now." 

Swallowing thickly, Grayson noticed the sudden change in her demeanor, the flicker of hurt in those earthy hues enough to make him realize she's thinking of the possibility of them not meeting.

“You really think you can get rid of me that easily?” He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as her expression dulled. 

Grayson wasn’t sure if he believed it, but Ella did and he had to remind her, to make her smile so he wouldn’t feel like he’s drowning in the unshed tears forming in her eyes. 

“You always say that people who are meant to be", Grayson starts and she rolls her eyes playfully, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"Will find their way in the end, I know." Groaning, she rolls on her back, her head resting on her pillow. 

Raising an eyebrow, Grayson moves to his side, towering over her with a lopsided grin. "Should I be upset you just chose your pillow over my chest?"

"Should I be upset you're thinking of a life without me?" She challenges, her left eye narrowing ever so slightly as she stares at him. It's as if she's daring him to move, to take these thoughts out of her head. After so many obstacles they’ve managed to overcome, she couldn’t help the hurt his admission caused. She never once thought about anything other than a life with him.

"I don't think of a life without you, Ella", Grayson's smile falls, his voice deeper, "I believe we would have met either way. You're everything", lowering his head on her chest, his hand rests on her stomach, "We are meant to be."

Fingers treading through his hair, Ella sighs, "I think you're wrong. To be meant for someone means more than just meeting each other. It's the circumstances, it's the experiences that have shaped your preferences and character."

"I'd still fall for your pretty eyes and crazy laugh", Grayson argues, his eyes focusing on the birthmark between her breasts, yet another thing she hated and he loved about her. That would never change.

"I'm not sure I'd go for a jock tho", she states and his head snaps up to meet her gaze only to notice her lips twitching in an attempt to suppress a laugh. Just as she sees the questioning gaze, Ella bursts into laughter, coercing Grayson to do the same. He loved her witchy like cackle she calls a laugh, it's impossible not to laugh when he hears it.

And so, with a laugh filled night, Grayson settles beside Ella as he drifts off. Her words run through his head, wondering if it's true. 

Would they still be together if he hadn't moved to Los Angeles to be an influencer?

As his consciousness fades, Grayson mutters under his breath, completely unaware that his life would forever be changed.

"I wish Ethan and I got the scholarship."

There’s a reason they say be careful what you wish for and Grayson was about to learn the hard way.

--------

"Ugh", Grayson moans, feeling like death. His head hurts, his muscles are aching as if he had run a marathon and his mouth is dry.

"Ella?" He calls out, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he rolls on his back, "Babe, I think I'm sick."

"You're not sick, you're hungover", Ethan chuckles and Grayson's eyes open wide.

"Fuck you talking about?" He squints and raises an eyebrow, noticing Ethan in a bed just a few feet away. His lips part, eyebrows furrowing as a faded scar between them becomes prominent.

"You drank a shit ton." Ethan reminds him, throwing a shirt his way.

Shaking his head, Grayson realizes it isn't a shirt, not when his last name is on the back of it right above a number.

"This isn't funny, E", Grayson breathes out, eyes fixed on the jersey in his hands. "Where is Ella?"

Sitting up, Ethan shrugs, "That the girl you were messing around with last night?"

Closing his eyes, Grayson feels his heart sink. "Messing around?" 

He wouldn't hurt Ella that way, would he?

"Since when do you even remember their names? What happened to hit it and quit it?" Ethan asks, standing up to grab his phone and Grayson scoffs.

"Now I know you're fucking with me, I'm a one woman man now. You know I'm with Ella. You can end the prank here because I really feel off." Grayson grimaced with the shooting pulsating pain in his head intensifying, wincing as he rubbed his temples to soothe the pain.

Ethan steps closer, concerned for his brother who is looking around the room with confusion. "Did you hit your head or something?"

"I dunno, maybe." Rubbing his forehead, Grayson sighs, "I have a major headache and I need Ella, okay? Where is she?" Standing abruptly, Grayson frightens Ethan into a backward stumble. "Ella?!"

"Fuck, I knew coach should have sent you to the doc!" Ethan runs his fingers through his hair, genuinely scared for Grayson.

Growling in frustration, Grayson reaches for Ethan, his fingers gripping the thin fabric of his shirt as he forcefully pulls him closer, "Cut the shit, where is she?! Huh?!"

Raising his arms in mock surrender, Ethan shakes his head, "I swear I don't know what you're talking about!" Eyes wide, Ethan pushes Grayson. It's not as forceful in fear of hurting him but enough to get the message across. "You never even mentioned an Ella before."

Releasing Ethan, Grayson stumbles back to the bed. Sitting down, a heavy sigh passes his lips as his eyes fall to his feet. His bare feet. "What the", pausing Grayson blinks fast, "Where's my Tame tattoo?!"

"Tattoo? You better not have a fucking tattoo!", Ethan rubs his chin, trying to understand what is happening. "I'M CALLING THE DOCTOR!" Rushing out of the room, Ethan slams the door behind him.

Lips quivering, Grayson takes his shirt off only to find his chest, his arms are void of tattoos. "No, no, no." Pulling his sweats down, he finds his legs just as bare, no ink he had invested years in. "No, NO, NO!"

Scrambling to the bathroom, he stops in front of a mirror only to find his hair is shorter, dark circles around his eyes are prominent and his lips chapped. Flashing his teeth, he finds no tooth gems, "Those cost a fortune!"

"Bro, we gotta get you to a hospital!" Ethan mumbles, running around to find something to wear while Grayson pales. His hands are shaky, his entire body trembling and he can't help but wonder if Ella was just a fever dream he had.

Or this is?

In what world does he still share a bedroom with Ethan? The tattoos, the gems, the jewelry! He didn't even have a hole for an earring!

And Ella? His sweet brown-eyed Ella with the heart of gold? What of her? If there's one thing he's sure of is that he isn't creative enough to dream up someone as perfect as her.

"C'mon, they'll do a CT as soon as we get in." Ethan waves him over, only then noticing Grayson is in his briefs. "Seriously?!"

Groaning, Ethan grabs him by the forearm and pulls him along, throwing clothes in his face.

"I know you're freaking out or whatever but we need to hurry! It's been a day since you took that nasty fall and I know you said you were okay but THIS IS NOT FUCKING OKAY!" Rambling, Ethan stopped. Taking a few deep breaths, he turns to Grayson with tears brimming his eyes. "You’re my brother and I can't lose you."

Nodding, Grayson presses his lips together. He'd argue, ask him if this is some elaborate prank again but it doesn't feel like one. It feels real and that is what scares him. So, reluctantly, Grayson does as Ethan says and he puts on the clothes, following him to the door.

He wasn't sure what to expect, but Grayson finds himself with raised eyebrows and a concerned look on his face once he sees the state of the house they're in. There are people lying around, red cups and beer bottles everywhere and he could have sworn he saw a few used condoms on the floor as well.

"Where the fuck are we?" Grayson whispers and Ethan pales.

"The frat house. We've lived here for three years Grayson!"

Running his fingers through his hair, Grayson has to suppress a groan as he realizes just how short it is. He's used to his floppy hair, it relieved his anxiety to run his hands through his hair and Ella loved to tug on his hair too. She never said anything about the length, so maybe it’s the feeling of her tugging his hair while he goes down on her is for his own pleasure, but he likes to believe she enjoyed it too.

"You said I hurt my head?" Grayson tries, hoping to understand.

"Yeah, during football practice yesterday. Ryan tackled you because you fucked his girlfriend."

Inhaling, Grayson's eyes widen, "The fuck?" 

So far, Grayson understood one thing: that he understands nothing.

-------

“All the scans came back clear. What kind of symptoms are you experiencing?” 

Grayson glances at Ethan, his mind torn. If he admits to what seems to be a crazy theory about him waking up in some hell dimension, the doctor might put him in the psych ward and throw away the key, but if he doesn’t and all the memories of his life and…Ella’s love are just a symptom of his fall, then he might deter the doctor from a proper diagnosis. 

But as Grayson swallows thickly, he shakes his head. Even if everything was a lie, a symptom, is who Ethan says he is truly who he’d want to be? 

From what Grayson gathered, he is a womanizer with no respect for women or their feelings, he’s an egomaniac and very likely has an STD by now. He sounds like a guy with commitment issues and a nasty personality considering he’s been sleeping with his friend’s girlfriend. 

“Just a headache.”

Ethan’s jaw slacks, his eyes narrowing at Grayson, “Are you sure?” He’s speaking from a confused, angered place and Grayson can tell Ethan is about to blow his cover. 

“I’m sure.” Grayson speaks through gritted teeth, his nostrils flared as he gives Ethan a pointed look. “I’m perfectly fine, just had a wild night and a nasty fall. I’ll take a few pills and be fine by Monday.”

“Alright. I’ll clear you to play next week, but keep the head safer next time.” 

A tight lipped smile on Grayson’s face did nothing to alleviate Ethan’s anger. He had brought his brother in for good reason and he just lied to the doctor’s face. Truth be told, Ethan is worried Grayson is having a psychotic break. Instead of ratting him out, Ethan decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and a single day to reassess the situation again. 

Once in the car, Ethan turns to Grayson with raised eyebrows. “Wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?”

Shrugging, Grayson swipes his thumb across his bottom lip, wincing as he does. “Do I have a busted lip too?” 

“Cut the crap, Gray, what the fuck is happening?” Ethan fixes his eyes on Grayson, refusing to start the car before getting a concrete answer to his many questions. “You’re acting like a totally different person. It’s like you’re an alien possessing my brother’s body and I don’t know who the fuck this Ella is but if she did some magic voodoo thing to you, we got a witch to burn!”

Gasping for a breath, Ethan stops but his eyes narrow as Grayson cackles at him and his rant. 

“THIS IS NOT FUNNY, GRAYSON!”

A hand over his chest, Grayson leans back. Attempting to stifle his laugh, he nods, “I know! I know”. Sniffling, Grayson lets out a long sigh before looking to his brother. “If I tell you, you’d think I’m crazy and I’m not! I swear I’m not!”

Licking his lips, Ethan leans back in his seat. Gnawing on his bottom lip, Ethan can’t help the curiosity bubbling up to the surface. Whatever it is, it can’t be that crazy, can it?

“If I promise to listen to you, will you tell me?”

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Grayson shrugs, “Only if you stop freaking out too.”

“FINE”, Ethan exclaims just as Grayson finishes his sentence, willing to hear his side of the story.

“I think I’m in an alternative universe. Like something got fucked and I’m now in an alternative universe because where I come from we aren’t frat boys with a drinking problem.”

Clearing his throat, Ethan motions with his hand for Grayson to elaborate.

“We moved to Los Angeles in our freshman year of high school and did YouTube and we got famous and rich and I had the most beautiful girlfriend. I was with her and then I woke up here.”

Tapping his fingers on his knee, Grayson looks out of the window, biting his lower lip. “She, uh…She means a lot to me.”

“Okay.” Ethan states, starting the engine.

“Okay?” Grayson furrows his eyebrows, lips parted.

“Yeah, okay. I believe you.” Ethan drew his lower lip between his lips, tapping his hands on the wheel.

Leaning forward, Grayson’s frown deepens, “Just like that?”

“Look, I don’t know Ethan from your universe, but I’m a believer in alternative universes and I do think you’re not exactly my brother. He’s just…different.” Glancing at Grayson, Ethan sighs, “You two are very different."

“Alright, so you want him back, right? You’re gonna help me?” Grayson’s excitement is palpable, enough for Ethan to roll his eyes.

“No, I’ll leave him in an alternative universe with millions at his disposal while I deal with you”, Ethan states, the sarcastic undertones unmistakable. Grayson can’t help but snort, smiling to himself. Even in an alternative universe, Ethan is a sarcastic conspiracy theorist. 

“Any idea where we could start, genius?” Ethan snaps his fingers, irritated with Grayson’s tendency to get lost in his thoughts. 

Grayson’s face blanks, “No clue.”

“How about that Ella you keep mentioning? She your girlfriend?” Ethan doesn’t need to ask twice as he glances at the shit eating grin on Grayson’s face upon the mere mention of her name. “You say you care about her. Are you sure you’re not in love?”

Grayson licks his lips, “I don’t know. How does anyone really know?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious when you fall in love. If you can’t answer that, you might have never truly loved anyone.” Ethan’s words hit home. 

While it sounds callous, it’s also true – did Grayson ever really loved any of the girls he was with? They all seemed like the right one at some point. He told them he loves them, but did he really? In the end, they were all forgotten in a week or two, but Ella? He refused to tell her he loves her even when he thought he did. The word had become cheap, she deserved better ones. 

Is that love? Wanting to find better words to express your feelings? Words that are more than what most throw around like ‘Hello’? Words worthy of the way the mere thought of them brings a smile upon one’s face or their voice makes one’s heart race? 

“Have you ever loved someone?” Grayson asks, curious of his brother’s life. Even if he’s not his Ethan, he is Ethan. 

“Once. It didn’t last, but I did love her.” 

Figuring Ethan isn’t quite ready to talk more on the subject, Grayson decides to drop it. He shouldn’t upset him just for his selfish gain. “I think this happened because I wished to know what would have happened if we never went to Los Angeles and took the scholarships at that private school we were interested in.” 

He wished for his old dreams to come true, and they did. But at what cost?

“You wished for this?!” Ethan raises his voice, letting a little of his frustration out.

“I didn’t know it would actually happen!” Grayson defends, pressing his lips together once he realizes raising his voice isn’t going to do him any favors. “I’m guessing we took those scholarships in this universe?

“Yeah. We got into college on football scholarships but we play lacrosse too.” Ethan tells him, “Wrestling didn’t pan out as we wanted.”

“I met Ella in LA, so that’s probably why she’s not here.” Grayson rubs his temples, closing his eyes shut.

“So? Look her up. If she’s not a dream, she’s gonna be on social media.” Ethan suggests. 

Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, Grayson nods. His eyebrows furrow as he opens up Instagram on his phone. Typing in her username comes up blank. Typing in her name comes out blank.

"Why can't I find her?!" Frustrated, he hits the dash and Ethan huffs, not happy with the way Grayson is treating the car. It may be a flaming pile of shit, but it gets them from point A to point B.

"You're saying you dreamed up a girl you think is real?" Ethan’s not convinced Ella exists. If anything, he’s still a little weirded out with the idea of Grayson not really being his Grayson. He’s trying to believe it all, to trust him on his word and to trust his instincts screaming at him, but it’s hard. It’s really hard.

"She is real!" Grayson exclaims, half panicked as he’s beginning to doubt himself as well. What if Ella found someone else? If he wasn’t there that day they met, who was? 

Glancing at a frustrated Grayson, Ethan feels pity. He may not be his Grayson, but he’s still his brother. In a way. "Google her then."

"If her Instagram account doesn't exist, why would anything exist then? Huh?" What Grayson truly worries about is, what if something happened to her? Maybe she did exist at some point but doesn’t anymore?

"Maybe because it’s Google? Google knows all. If she’s not on there, she was a dream bro." Ethan reasons, parking the car. He turns to Grayson, watching him. Grayson’s pensive, filled with a thousand emotions he cannot put into words and Ethan understands him. He does. 

"Wait...She only got Instagram to follow me! She admitted that!" Grayson exclaims, a little too excited while Ethan remains unimpressed.

"Bro, I love you, but you sound douchier than usual." And that says a lot since he’s been dealing with his douche of a brother. His Grayson is the definition of a douchebag. 

"No, no, she really told me that. So...she wouldn't be in LA either because she said we inspired her to move to follow her dream which would mean she’s back home!" 

Raising his eyebrows, Ethan’s eyes widened, "We inspired her?"

"Yeah, she said if two snotty teenagers could move to LA and make it just by filming videos of themselves she could surely get her book deal." Grayson says it with a smile, feeling nostalgic.

Ethan snorts, "She sounds supportive."

"She really is though." And with that, Ethan notes how Grayson’s voice is warmer when he speaks of Ella. That’s definitely not his brother. His Grayson doesn’t soften up when he speaks about girls unless it’s about Gizmo, their pet bird.

"She’d never tell anyone about the book, but I know she’s been writing it since she was 16 and she actually sold it!" Grayson is also proud of her, boasting about it as if it’s his own success. Ethan can’t help but smile.

"So look for her with that info, you do know where she is from, right?"

"Michigan." The word barely passes his lips as Ethan punches his shoulder, "Owh, what the hell E?!"

"We are in fucking Michigan!" Throwing his arms in the air, Ethan shakes his head. The pent up craziness of the day is starting to drive him up the wall and he can’t even be sure what’s real and what’s not anymore. ”We’re literally Michigan Wolverines!”

"Seriously?! She might be in the same school then!" Clapping his hands, Grayson opens the car door. He jumps out, wildly looking around the parking lot, hoping he’d see her black hair swaying with the wind.

"You're giving me a headache, I hope she's nicer than you." Ethan mumbles, leaning his forearms on the roof of the car, his car door still open.

"You two have been iffy a bit, but you loved her E.”, Grayson turns to him, grinning, “You said it yourself, you love her like a sister but if she touches your vegan rolls again you'd burn the house to the ground."

Lips parting, Ethan’s nose crinkles, "Vegan? She can have them all, why would I fight her on that?!"

Drawing a deep breath, Grayson pinched the bridge of his nose, "Please don't tell me we aren't vegan."

"We are jocks, Grayson, chicken is our religion." Ethan reminds him as he closes the car door, locking it. Walking around the car, he chuckles at Grayson who grumbles about it.

"Just great."

Running a hand through his hair, Ethan averts his eyes to the ground. The pavement is still wet, a reminder of the stormy night from before. "Do I have anyone in your world?"

Grayson smirks, "An Australian model."

"WHAT?!" Ethan steps in front of Grayson, stopping him. 

"Yeah, my reaction too when she decided to date you." Grayson chuckles, amused with the shocked, slightly jealous expression on Ethan’s face.

"Bro, I want an Australian model!"

Laughing wholeheartedly at the whining, Grayson shrugs, "You have her. Well, the other you does."

Throwing his hands up in the air, for the second time in the past ten minutes, Ethan walks ahead, “Fuck this shit.”

Smiling fondly at his brother’s back, Grayson sighs, “At least I know you’re extra here too.”

“What?!” Ethan glances at him over his shoulder and Grayson shakes his head, “NOTHING!”

--

As days passed, Grayson realized one thing: time has its own flow and in that its own beauty, for no man can command it to halt, it can only pass with unique divinity. It’s only been a few nights since he woke up in this strange universe and while days were easy to survive as he spent them on the field and Monday brought classes, nights were much less forgiving.

He misses her – his Ella. 

Time, just as love, is unchangeable – it is there at the end as it was at the start and Grayson doesn’t know how to accept that he might never see Ella again.

He finds himself scribbling her name instead of class notes on his first day of college, attempting to draw her – but the shade of brown in her eyes is never quite right. No matter how hard he tries, nothing he draws will ever come close to the warmth and understanding her eyes and smile held. No one can ever replace the comforting relief that would wash over him whenever she would squeeze his hand or run her fingers through his hair. 

Simply, no one can compare to Ella. No one, possibly not even the alternative universe her…if she exists.

Sighing, Grayson leans back on the tree he sat under. He closes the textbook with her name written a dozen times to give himself reprieve. Being there without her is torment, a special kind of hell Grayson never dreamed he’d be stuck in. 

Ethan has helped him adjust as much as possible, but it seems as if he can never truly fit into this life.

This Grayson is a douchebag, whoring his way through campus with a bottle of tequila in hand and no one bats an eye as long as he scores the winning touchdown. His grades are an average C, but it took him less than a single day to find out it’s because the professors are giving him special treatment. He’s not exactly a model student and plenty of his classmates were surprised he even attended lectures today.

Closing his eyes, he tries to ignore the words in his head reminding him this is karma. He has done enough to get himself rejected from his own timeline and universe. 

Truth be told, he’s ashamed. He wasn’t much better before meeting Ella, either. He’d whore his way through Los Angeles, the difference being non-disclosure agreements he had the girls sign. He might have been sober, but he was drunk on adrenaline of fame that he had given into different obsessions. He became paranoid, mistrustful, hateful and treated his friends as if they owed him something for being a part of his life.

When Ella came around, he changed. It took a while, but Grayson thought he was finally worthy of her. 

Now? Grayson finally understands what she meant when she told him she might not like him as a jock. He didn’t like himself as a jock.

“Hey, six-pack?!”

Grayson’s eyes open wide, his breath caught in his throat as he recognizes that voice. Only one person he knows has that kind of a voice – a raspy voice that is the base of all his happy memories. 

And there she is, Ella – his Ella. Her long black hair is shorter in this universe, falling to her shoulders in waves. Her eyes are just as beautiful as he remembers them to be, like melted honey on a warm sunny day. Her lips are curled into a small smile, gentle yet cautious. 

“Ella?” He breathes out, his hands beginning to shake and she can tell. 

Ella raises an eyebrow, confused as to why would the cockiest man she ever met feel so nervous to see her. He seems to be shocked, maybe even relieved – a contradictory Grayson never was. Not to her knowledge. She always saw him as a one dimensional being – an asshole without a cause. 

“Wanted to bring this back to you”, she reaches into her backpack – a flower themed green backpack she had when they first met. 

Back then, she was but a stranger with a very pissed off look on her face when he slammed into her on the beach as he attempted to catch a ball Ethan sent flying way above his head. He remembers her yelling at him as if it were yesterday, but he also remembers her laughing when he asked for her number when she was done with yelling, breathless. He bought her an ice cream and apologized and ever since then, Grayson never looked at another.

Ella tosses a jersey in his face and Grayson quickly stands up, holding the jersey in his hands. 

“Wait, how do you have this?” He looks at the number – 33 – his number.

Raising both eyebrows, Ella’s eyes widened for a split second, “Wow, you were really drunk off your ass that night, weren’t you?” Leaning in, she steps on her tiptoes as Grayson holds his breath, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that Grayson Dolan actually did something decent for a change.”

She turns on her heel, taking a few steps further before Grayson’s senses return to him. “Ella, wait!”

“And he remembers my name? I’m impressed!” She giggles, not even turning around as she heard his heavy footsteps just behind her. “Though I don’t remember telling you my name.” That’s when she stops, hands on her hips as she looks at Grayson who looks like he’s lost. “How do you know my name?”

“How do you have my jersey? I asked first”, Grayson reminds her with a lopsided grin and she purses her lips to stop a smile from spreading. While Ella might not be Grayson’s biggest fan, she’s not blind – he’s extremely good looking.

“The other night at the party mean anything to you?” She raises an eyebrow, waiting for Grayson to respond but he just shrugs, a red tint slowly coloring her cheeks. It’s not something he’s used to as Ella was always tan from the LA sun, but she’s much paler than usual.

“Some asshole pushed me in the pool and my shirt got wet and it was very see through. I panicked and ran and stumbled upon you and for some reason you weren’t an asshole about it and lent me the jersey without even trying to stare at my boobs.” Licking her lips, Ella narrows her eyes at Grayson, “Which was very weird, are you alright? Nobody's body snatched you?”

Chuckling, Grayson shakes his head, eyes fixed on Ella. He can’t look away, not even if he tried. “I’m trying to be better.”

“You? Better?” Biting her lower lip, Ella steps closer, “I really wanna believe that”, her raspy voice is like stardust to Grayson. 

He loves hearing her talk, words are her finishing touch to the emotions she usually suppresses but only ever shared with him. It took forever for her to open up to him, but even then it wasn’t as often. So yes, Grayson wished he could tell her how much he would like to listen to her talk. It doesn’t matter what’s it about – something, nothing, he just wants her to talk to him.

Taking her hand, Grayson hears her gasp. He places her palm on his chest, right above his heart. “Please do. I need you to believe in me.” His lips are parted, his eyes clinging to her like a dying man clings to his last breath and she’s looking back at him, her hand is touching him and she’s not fighting the touch.

Until she breaks out in laughter, “That’s a good line! Do you use that on all your little flings?” 

Stepping away from him, she bites her lower lip, almost disappointed. “Don’t spend your best lines on me, Quarterback, I’m not easily swayed and my heart is taken by someone else.”

Sobering words splash into Grayson’s senses as if they were icy water. “Someone else?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna leave you before someone spreads unflattering rumors about us.” Turning away, Ella takes three more steps before glancing at Grayson over her shoulder. She doesn’t know why she did it, but something inside her told her to look back, to stay – even if it’s for a moment. 

“Thank you for the jersey, Grayson. I’ll remember that.”

And as Grayson stood there, watching Ella leave, he reminded himself that everything he wants is on the other side of determination and consistency. He would show her he’s redeemable and he would win her over. It doesn’t matter what universe he’s in, there is never a time he won’t want her – her light, her kindness, her approval. 

Even if everything's made to be broken, Grayson needs her to believe in him. He needs her to know who he is. 

--

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m with you”, Ella huffs. Arms crossed she rolls her eyes at Grayson before laughing, “Your decoration skills need serious improvement!”

“Ah, you got me worried for a moment”, Grayson reaches out for her. Grabbing her by the arm, he pulls her into his lap.

Chuckling, she wraps her arms around his neck, “Why?”

Licking his lips, Grayson looks down, “Because I wonder why you’re with me.”

“For the same reason you’re with me”, she explains and he furrows his eyebrows as his lips form a tight line. The reason he’s with her is because his soul never felt more at home than when she would wrap her arms around him.

“Boobies?” Grayson teases, earning himself an eye roll.

Cupping his left boob, Ella exclaims, “Yes! Yours are almost as big as mine!”

“Idiot!” Grayson grumbles under his breath. Looking back at it, he knew it was a perfect chance to tell her what she means to him and how grateful he is for her presence but he didn’t. He made it into a joke to hide just how much he needs her and she didn’t deserve that. She deserved a man who could speak his mind and share his emotions, not a coward he turned out to be.

“Awee, you’re not an idiot”, Ethan mocks, “Especially not if you help a brother out.”

“I’m not telling you her name, Ethan.” Grayson turns to his other side, determined to salvage what’s left of the night. He couldn’t sleep, not after knowing his Ella hates him. But is she his? How can she be his when she loves someone else? How can she be his when this Ella hadn’t ever been in his arms? Even if she was, she would be the other Grayson’s Ella. Manwhore Grayson’s Ella. Frat boy, jock’s Ella.

It leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth. The idea of her with someone else, even another version of himself isn’t easy to stomach.

“But she’s my girlfriend!” Ethan exclaims, throwing a sock at Grayson’s head. A smelly sock.

Covering his nose, Grayson tosses the sock back, “Not in this world she isn’t.”

Flipping Grayson off, Ethan groans. “She could be, ya know? She could be my girlfriend!”

Rolling his eyes, Grayson turns to his back, “Chasing someone else’s love story isn’t exactly something I’d recommend to you.”

“Wouldn’t the other me want to be with his girl in every universe?” Ethan challenges and Grayson raises his eyebrows, “You’re trying to find your girl in this universe, why don’t I get the same courtesy?”

Pressing his lips in a hard line, sadness clouded Grayson’s features, “Kristina Alice.”

Gasping, Ethan’s phone lights up as he searches her name only to sit up once he sees her photo, “SHUT THE FUCK UP, SHE’S MINE?!”

“YuPP”, Grayson closes his eyes, “Good luck getting her to accept your request.”

“Thanks”, Ethan smiles as he hits the follow button on her Instagram page, desperately hoping she would soon accept his request and he could send her a message. Maybe he has a shot after all.

“Just shut up and let me sleep.” Grayson covers his head with a pillow, turning to the other side where it’s colder.

“What if”, Ethan begins as Grayson groans loudly. Those two words are the last ones he wants to hear. Ever.

“I need to sleep!”

“Sure, but hear me out”, Ethan springs from his bed and sits on Grayson’s, “What if you being here means my brother, real brother, is also in a different universe?”

Uncovering his face, Grayson’s eyes widen as he sits up with a thundering heart, “Like in my universe?”

“Dunno, but I don’t think he would just disappear. The whole laws of physics wouldn’t allow for that to happen. If energies cannot be created or destroyed, perhaps souls can’t either. Maybe he’s in your body or in another universe and that universes’ Grayson is in your body? Maybe all the Grayson’s have switched places?”

Hand on his heart, Grayson could feel the cold sweat forming at the back of his neck, “I’m gonna be sick.”

“You think it’s possible?” Ethan raises his right eyebrow, genuinely curious.

“If it is, some other guy is with my Ella right now and he could be fucking up my life as we speak.”

“Well, depending on the definition of ‘your life’, he could be fucking your life right now.” Ethan’s insinuation didn’t help Grayson fall asleep that night.

If it’s true, another version of him might be holding Ella tightly against him as she unravels under him. Another Grayson, possibly even the manwhore Grayson he’s occupying could be both abusing the privilege of being intimate with Ella and breaking her heart by being intimate with other women in front of her.

Laying awake, staring at the ceiling, Grayson met dawn as an old friend. Dawn signified a new start, a day full of activities that would busy his mind with anything but some look alike hurting the lov…His Ella. Besides, he was looking forward to the day as he planned on seeing this Ella as well. He can’t deny the pull, the gravitational change he feels when he’s close to her. She may not be his Ella in every sense of the word, but she is Ella and she is the light in this darkness.

Morning practice went by fast, allowing him to exercise some of his demons, but it isn’t enough. In the back of his mind is an image, one that is enough to enrage him – an image of his lookalike in bed with his unsuspecting Ella.

Inhaling, he closes his eyes as he settles under the same tree he sat at yesterday. Holding his breath, he waits for the burning sensation of his lungs as they scream for oxygen. Reluctant, he releases the pent up air in a slow exhale.

“Since when is this your hangout place?”

Eyes snapping open, Grayson’s lips part with the familiar raspiness in the voice. “Ella?”

“Still my name”, she smiles before sitting in front of him, book in her hand.

“Sorry”, he breathes out, attempting to smile but he didn’t know if he should smirk or grin and ended up grimacing more than smiling.

“Don’t be. It’s not like the tree has my name on it”, she shrugs as she opens up her book and he frowns, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Pointing to the tree, “It’s my spot. Has been since freshman year and suddenly you’re here.”

Making an ‘O’ shaped face, Grayson’s heart skips a beat. He didn’t even know why he sat under this particular tree, but it was calming him. It felt cozy, safe, a place to gather his thoughts. Upon further evaluation, this tree wasn’t entirely different from other trees, but he chose the same one two days in a row and he had a sneaky suspicion Ella is the reason why he was drawn to it.

If there is no magic in the world, how is he in this universe? If there is no magic in the world, how did he meet her again? If there is no magic in the world, why would he sit under this tree?

Smiling, Grayson realizes – magic exists. Maybe it’s not in the obvious witchy way, but it’s real. Ella made him see that.

“I’m sorry if I was ever a jerk to you.” Gnawing at the inside of his bottom lip, Grayson noticed her surprise when he spoke up, more so with what he said.

“Save your apologies, Quarterback. You weren’t a jerk to me.” Forcing a small smile, she clarifies, “You weren’t anything to me.” Tucking her hair behind her ear, she feels her heartbeat quicken as his eyes remain on her. She could see the genuine emotions swirling in his hazel eyes and it caught her off guard. It’s as if he actually means it.

“Look, you’ve been pretty shitty to a lot of people and you’re worshipped regardless. But if you want to be better, you have to take baby steps. It’s never easy to change once you’ve left people with a certain idea of who you are.” Licking her lips, she sinks her front teeth into her bottom lip. 

Averting her gaze to the book in hand, she tries to hide how his unrelenting gaze is making her nervous. It’s an effort to stop herself from tapping her fingers on the book or to stop herself from running away to take a proper breath she can’t seem to take ever since she decided to sit there. Somehow, Grayson causes a panic in her, not one associated by fear. It’s more about the implications of his longing stares and uncharacteristically kind words.

“Can I start with you?” Grayson leans closer, minding the way she blinks faster as he does as if his proximity is making it harder for her to ignore the need to stay close.

“Why me? What’s so important about me?” Her question catches him off guard and it reminds him of his Ella and the insecurities she always tried to hide. Maybe they’re not so different after all.

“Because I think highly of you.”

Scoffing, she looks away but Grayson can’t ignore the blush spreading across her cheeks. “You don’t even know me.”

“I’m an observant person. I know more than you think and I’m not asking for you to be my friend but maybe a tutor? You could help my grades and my stupid mouth when it goes off?”

Narrowing her eyes at him, Ella’s confusion is stronger than before. No matter what she heard of Grayson, he didn’t seem as bad as people made him seem. He’s trouble, she’s sure of that, but he’s also lost. A part of her wants to help him find what he’s looking for, to help him…fix him, but if she does, she knows she might find herself in dangerous territory. 

Grayson Dolan seems like a guy one would easily fall for, but he also seems like the guy who’d break her heart. Can he even break a heart that’s not his to begin with?

“Tutoring sounds fine.” She speaks, finally breaking the silence and Grayson’s lips stretch into a wide smile on instinct.  “But only tutoring and it’s not for free. I expect you to do something for me too.”

“Anything!”

Drawing a deep breath, she wonders if this is wise. It could backfire in the worst possible way, but she can’t help herself. She has a unique chance to do something she always wanted, “I need you to be my fake boyfriend for a month.”

Inhaling sharply, Grayson exhales, “Huh?”

Rolling her eyes, she leans closer, “I want to make a guy jealous and who better to do that than the Quarterback.”

Grayson’s heart sinks with her words but he finds himself nodding. It might be the worst thing to agree to but it would put him in her orbit and it would give her a chance to see who he truly is. She might fall for him in the end.

“Alright. Let’s do this.”

--

“So you’re just gonna fake date your girlfriend?” Ethan cocks an eyebrow, a little confused and uncertain of the benefits this deal could possibly bring his brother.

Shrugging, Grayson runs his fingers through his hair, attempting to put in the effort to make himself look somewhat presentable. “Yeah. It’s not much, but I’m willing to go through with worse if it means I get to hold her hand at the end of the day.”

“What if her plan works and she actually gets with the person you’re supposed to make jealous?” Raising both eyebrows, Ethan flicks Grayson’s ear, “You’ll be worse off than before.”

“It won’t happen!” Grayson exclaims, trying to not murder Ethan. “Fake dating trope always ends with the two realizing their feelings and marrying each other.” 

Smiling at his reflection in the mirror, he nods to himself. It’s the first time in a long time he gave much thought about what he should wear or what his hair looks like but it’s for a good reason. He has to impress Ella. 

“We’re soulmates, E. I know it.”

Huffing, Ethan rolls his eyes, “Chances of that being an actual thing is slim, but let's face the facts. Even if you’re soulmates, you two aren’t necessarily meant to be in every single universe. No one can have their happy ending in every universe. Maybe consider this universe is the one where you don’t get the girl.”

Hands on his hips, Grayson turns to Ethan with a stiff upper lip, “Is this really about me and Ella or about the fact Kristina didn’t accept your follow request?”

Rubbing his forehead, Ethan groans, “Maybe, but it’s a possibility?! I don’t want you to end up with a broken heart if this doesn’t work out. Just…Don’t forget this isn’t your life, okay? What happens when real Grayson comes back and he’s suddenly in a relationship? He’d break Ella’s heart.”

“What if he never returns and I’m stuck here forever? I can’t and will not give up on Ella. Manwhore Grayson needs to man up and I’m preparing the turf in case he returns to this life.”

“Manwhore Grayson?!” Ethan chuckles, “That’s actually who he is. Cameron calls him that!” Wheezing, Ethan throws himself on the bed, hugging a pillow.

Grayson watches, stifling a laugh, “Bro, I wanna smack him so bad!!”

“Get in line! At least half the female population wanna smack his face and the other wants to smack his ass!”

Pursing his lips, Grayson exhales through his nose, or he tries to. It’s been hell living in a body with sinus issues again and he envied whoever is in his body for the ability to breathe freely and without suffering after he had suffered all the pain of two surgeries and multiple rounds of antibiotics.

“Well, I’ll be going then. Don’t wanna keep my girl waiting.” With a lopsided grin, Grayson heads to the door when Ethan speaks up.

“Do you think this would classify as cheating? I mean, she’s Ella but she’s not really your Ella, right?”

Licking his lips, Grayson’s heart sinks. Ethan is right, this Ella might look like his Ella, have her soul, but her personality might be different. So far, Grayson noticed three differences: her ears are pierced though his Ella was terrified of the very idea of having them pierced, she doesn’t seem to wear the red lipstick he loved to smudge and she had black nail polish but his Ella prefers pastels.

Shaking his head, he remembers how it felt to imagine her with manwhore Grayson. It doesn’t feel right and his Ella would probably hate him for this, but something inside him is insisting he must see it through. “I’ll see you later.”

--

Holding his breath and waiting for inevitable doom. This is what Grayson feels like. It’s as if this entire universe is made to torture him. Sure, he wasn’t the best person alive in his universe, but he wasn’t evil either. A part of him couldn't shake the karma aspect of this switch – what did he do that was so bad to warrant a karmic intervention?

“Hey!” Ella’s usual raspy voice is a little higher, pitchy, enough to make Grayson smile. She’s nervous and he’s glad he’s the one that made her nervous. It means she cares, however small it may be.

“You look”, pausing, Grayson raises his eyebrows as his eyes trail down her body, “Incredible!” He lets out a breathless chuckle, watching her cheeks darken. She’s definitely nervous.

“So, uh, what do you need help with”, Ella licks her lips, tucking her hair behind her ear as her eyes fix on his hand. “Are those….flowers?” Raising an eyebrow, she stifles a smile as Grayson fidgets, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah…I wanted to do something nice.” Holding the flowers out, he watches her lips twitch as her attempt to keep a smile at bay slowly fails.

The corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile as his eyes dropped to the floor, a strangely demure gesture for him, Ella realized. As he looked back at her, moving his hair back with his hand, Ella was momentarily swayed by the dark brown eyes that sparkled up through long, dark lashes that she never noticed before. Perhaps she allowed herself to send a few glances his way in the past, trying to understand why so many girls ventured into his web, and she never quite understood until now.

The way he looks at her as if she’s the source of sunshine in his life, the way he smiles as if her presence sparks joy in his heart and the way he had held her hand over his beating heart had disarmed her and she hated herself for it. 

She fell for his charms and silver tongue as many have before and she likes him. She does. It’s impossible not to like a man as magnificent as Grayson – no matter how messed up he is. 

There will always be a girl willing to stay way too long in hopes of fixing him. He’s a death trap for every woman who looks into his eyes.

“Lilies?” Careful, she reaches for the flowers. Her fingers curl right above his, avoiding touch and the electrifying feelings it could bring to the surface. Ella preferred not to know.

“Your favorite”, Grayson blurts out, his mouth faster than his brain and his eyes widen as Ella’s eyes narrow at him.

“How would you know?”

Hands trembling, Grayson shrugs, “A lucky guess. You’re not a rose kind of a girl because you think roses are cliché.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Ella’s frown deepens, “That sounds more like an educated guess.”

“Am I wrong?” Grayson cocks an eyebrow, his confidence growing as she purses her lips, eyeing him as if she’s reconsidering her previous judgment of him.

“I hate the thorns too”, she states matter of factly, turning her back on him. Glancing over her shoulder, she raises an eyebrow, “Coming? Or am I supposed to take your exams for you, Quarterback?”

With a lopsided grin, Grayson follows after, relishing in her sassy attitude. She must know how it affects him, draws him in. If anyone could tell him to get over his shit and act like a normal human being, it was Ella. Of course, his Ella took a while to open up in a way where she didn’t mind her tongue. His Ella is shy until one gets under her skin, a little more insecure. This Ella is a firecracker from the start, brazen.

For a moment, he feels guilty for liking that about her. He feels guilty for liking this Ella, but it’s still his Ella, is it not? She’s just got a different life experience. 

--

For the first time in his life, Grayson couldn’t stop staring. He was good at hiding his feelings, pushing down anything uncomfortable until he could ignore it, but he couldn’t do it. Not anymore. He sought her out even when she wasn’t close, he yearned for her shy smiles and annoyed eye rolls. He missed each time she’d glance his way and swiftly look away or the way she’d use her hands when she talks about something she’s passionate about. He wanted to see her hands when she’s talking about him, to be passionate about him – with him.

For the first time in his life, Grayson found himself chasing after a girl. She’s out of his league, he’s aware of it. She’s wife material and he isn’t sure he could settle down any time soon, but waiting too long might mean she’ll find someone who is ready for all the things he’d like to have with her. Because no matter how scary it seems to commit when he’s unsure if he’s able to love someone, losing the opportunity to find out seems scarier.

For the first time in his life he wanted to reach out and ask her to hold his hand, to look at him the same way she looks at puppies because he only ever saw her look at them with love. He wants to hear her laugh at his jokes and he wants her to call him out on the shit he does and hold him accountable. He wants her to make an effort because she thinks he deserves to be saved, that he can be fixed. Maybe he should fix himself before asking her to love him, but she makes it better. With her, he finds all he thought he lost before – the will to try and do better.

“Are you okay?” Her voice catches him off guard, her eyes gentle, softer than he thought they could be. 

“You seem a million miles away”, she brushes over the part where he stared at her and he’s grateful. She could have called him a creep and walked away, but she didn’t. Instead, Ella reaches out, her hand resting atop of his and Grayson releases a heavy sigh, as if the weight of the world didn’t press on his chest anymore. It’s as if a single touch of her hand had made him whole.

“I feel better now.” Grayson musters a smile, “You make everything better.”

For the second time in his life, Grayson finds himself staring. Blinking seems so unnatural when his eyes are focused on such beauty as if a single moment lost would prove to be deadly. Not looking at her would make him crumble, blurt out the truth of who he is and how scared he is and how badly he needs her to hold him and say things will be alright. But she doesn’t.

For the second time in his life, Grayson found himself wishing for a girl to hold his hand, to tell him he’s worth saving. He wants her to smile and blush like she did when she brought his jersey back to him. He wants her to roll her pretty brown eyes and chuckle at him, but she doesn’t.

For the second time in his life, Grayson is wondering if he’s able to commit to anyone. Is he any better than the manwhore version of him from this alternative universe? 

He’s sitting next to a woman and he craves her attention and approval as if he doesn’t have a woman who offers all that and more. 

Does it really give him any reprieve if they’re the same soul cultivated in different universes? 

Perhaps she’d think it’s cute she captured his attention even in a different setting? Would Ella feel hurt or betrayed if he admitted he likes this version of her, as well?

“Are you okay?” Ella’s raspy voice catches him off guard, not just the sound, but the choice of wording. It’s the orotund tone she uses too; a little uncomfortable, lacking the softness his Ella would use with him. “You’re kinda staring and zoning out and I’m trying to explain this in the easiest way possible.”

Licking his lips, he nods, more to himself than her as he realizes this Ella and his Ella are definitely not the same person. Perhaps they look alike, but his Ella was kinder in a sense. Maybe kinder isn’t the proper word, but empathic?

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just have a slight headache.” Pushing his hair back, he clears his throat, “So, uh, there’s a game this Friday.”

“Oh”, her eyebrows raised, Ella tilts her head slightly to the left, waiting for him to explain.

“Well, we’re dating, fake dating and girlfriends usually wear their boyfriend’s jersey’s on the day of the game”, swallowing thickly, Grayson draws in a quick breath. “Would you maybe wear mine?”

Furrowing her eyebrows for a moment, Ella’s face relaxed again as her eyes fell to Grayson’s shaky left hand. Reaching out, she takes his hand in hers. Her grip is firm, certain, no doubts as she gives it a squeeze. 

“Yeah. It’s not like it’s my first time.” Letting out a breathless chuckle, she shrugs, “And we did agree. So, I’ll wear your jersey and you pass this exam tomorrow.”

“Deal.” Grayson smiles as she purses her lips, but his smile quickly falls as she lets go of his hand and turns to the notes. She held his hand, but it’s not nearly as long as he wished for her hand to linger.

“Oh, wow, it’s true.” Someone speaks from behind them and Grayson frowns, turning back only to see a blonde, tall guy with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Danny!” Ella exclaims, jumping to her feet and straight into this guy’s arms.

Grayson’s eyes narrow as he looks how low his hands rest on Ella’s back, more so as the guy’s green eyes pierce him. He’s sizing him up just as much as Grayson’s doing to him. So, Grayson stands – letting him have something to size up. They may be the same height, but Grayson’s muscular, much more than him.

“So you’re really dating the Quarterback? I thought it was a joke.” Danny chuckles, his arm around Ella as she shifts uncomfortably at his words.

“Why?” Grayson raises an eyebrow, “She’s a beautiful, witty, intelligent woman. Any man would be lucky to have her.”

Smiling, Ella looks to Danny who nods, “Yes, I wasn’t demeaning her by asking. I’m saying I’m shocked she’d stoop as low to date you.”

Escaping his embrace, Ella steps away, “What the fuck, Daniel?”

Rolling his eyes, Daniel clicks his tongue, “Oh, come on! He’s whored his way through campus, you’re probably the last one he didn’t bag. He’ll use you and cast you aside, Ells. Men like him can’t commit.”

Chuckling from frustration more than finding anything amusing, Grayson steps closer to Ella, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Sounds like you know the type, Derrick.”

“It’s Daniel”, he corrects Grayson, visibly annoyed.

“Sure it is, Dario.”

Nostrils flaring, eyes narrowing, Daniel clenches his fists. “You can’t seriously think Ella is stupid to fall for your tricks.”

“Ella is right here and she’s perfectly capable of making her own decisions”, Grayson remarks, stepping in front of her, “Imply she’s stupid again and I’ll knock you on your ass so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

“Gray”, that’s when he feels it – her arms wrapping around him, her hand over his heart. “Please calm down, please.” Her head rests on his back, her hold on him tightening.

Softening at the sound of her frightened voice, Grayson steps back. “You’re lucky I value her good opinion more than your jealous remarks, Dicky.”

“It’s Daniel!” Raising his voice, Daniel shakes his head. “Ella, come on. Let’s go watch that movie before I lose my temper.”

Lips parting, Grayson glances at Ella who is blinking fast, biting on her bottom lip anxiously. “I think I’m gonna stay.”

“Seriously?” Daniel frowns, his green eyes fixed on her.

“I think I need some time away from you to reevaluate our friendship.” Ella states, her voice shaky and Grayson feels her body begin to shake as well.

“What?” Pointing at Grayson, Daniel speaks, “This is his doing! He’s manipulating you!”

Shaking her head, Ella seems to be lost. After years of liking this guy, she’s only now wondering why. “No, he’s not. You’re the asshole here. Your behavior toward my boyfriend is telling me I need to step back and create some distance because if you’re incapable of trusting I can make my own choices, I can’t trust you either.”

“He’ll break your heart.” Daniel states and Ella lets out a breathless chuckle.

“Maybe. But it’s my heart to break.”

And that’s when Grayson felt his heart break a little too. When he looks at her, he sees her heart is already cracked from this altercation. Daniel had been the culprit, but he feels responsible.

Walking away, Daniel doesn’t spare the pair a second glance. Ella’s quiet, holding onto Grayson. He can see she’s struggling to hold her tears at bay, but she’s successful. “We should review this part once again.”

“You don’t have to be brave with me.” Grayson tries but she waves him off.

“I’m fine.”

She’s not, but she can’t talk about it. Breaking down in tears isn’t exactly what she wants around Grayson. She’s hurt, confused and angry, but none of those emotions will help her. She wanted to make Daniel jealous a little, make him see what he could have if he stopped friendzoning her, but she didn’t expect him to disrespect her or say hurtful things about Grayson, as true as they may be.

“I’m fine”, she repeats before letting out a shuddered breath. “So, how did you get this result?”

Knowing better than to push her further, Grayson swallows thickly and plays along, taking this time with her as a chance to help her clear her head. His Ella always worked herself to the bone when she didn’t want to think about something, maybe this Ella needed the same. If she’s anything like his Ella, she’ll open up when she’s ready and for now, Grayson has nothing but time.

--

“Hey”, Grayson comes up behind Ella, making her gasp.

Slapping a hand over her mouth to hold in a shrill scream, she turns around only to whack Grayson with her free hand. “Jerk!”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Grayson’s mouth curved into a smile. “I wanted to hug my girl, not my fault she’s a scaredy cat!”

Rolling her eyes, she takes a step closer so he couldn’t miss her glare, “I prefer not to have Quarterbacks giving me heart attacks. A warning would have been nice!” Her voice is tremulous, her hands still shaky.

“I was gonna offer to walk you to your dorm”, Grayson’s smile falls as he realizes he truly did scare her which wasn’t his intention at all. He didn’t see her that day more than a few times in passing, so he got excited for a moment of her time finally seemed to be open for him to claim as his.

“Just don’t sneak up on me when the sun is going down, okay?” Ella crosses her arms over her chest as she looks left to right before her eyes set on Grayson who pales, realizing his mistake.

“Oh, shit”, he pinches the bridge of his nose, frustrated with himself. Who the fuck goes up to a girl in an empty street at dusk? Idiots like him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

Cracking a smile, she nods, “Yeah”, exhaling loudly, she points ahead, “I live about ten minutes that way.”

“You’re letting me walk with you?” Grayson’s eyes widen, a little too excited and Ella could tell. 

“It’s getting dark and you’re kinda big and scary looking to potential killers.” Ella shrugs, “I don’t mind a bodyguard right now.”

The corners of his mouth turned up, licking his lips quickly before taking her hand in his. He noticed her tense up, but she didn’t fight his touch. Her hand felt sweaty, but he held on tightly as if it were his safety rope and letting go would mark him for death.

“Do you believe people can really change?” Grayson wonders out loud, hoping Ella would show some signs of changing her opinion on him. She let him hold her hand, isn’t that progress?

“I believe some people are beyond help.” Ella sighs, glancing up at Grayson whose face fell with her words, “But I don’t think you are. If anything, you feel like someone I’ve known my entire life and I know it’s insane but I feel like I trust you more than I should.”

His heart fluttered with her confession, acutely aware it means he has more of a chance than he originally thought.

“I feel the same way”, Grayson admits, “You’re like coming up for fresh air, like spring after a long winter.”

Beaming, she fanned herself with her free hand, “I - that was - uh, that was really poetic”, Ella stumbled over her words, unable to form a coherent sentence and she never realized how much Grayson affected her. She may have been attracted to him before, but she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like him now that she got a chance to see what’s behind his popularity façade. 

“You make me feel poetic”, Grayson’s husky tone made her simper, looking away as heat rushed to her face.

“Wow, okay! A silver tongue charmer.” Ella stops, stepping in front of Grayson with a coy smile dancing along her lips. “We’re here.”

Pressing his lips together, Grayson looked at the walls of the building with slight frustration. He wished they had more time to talk, it finally felt like he made progress.

“If I say I wish we could spend more time together, would you hold it against me?” Ella raises her eyebrows expectantly, her defenses lowered.

“I could come in”, Grayson gave her a half smile, one she could bask in all night long if she would just ignore the little voice in her head reminding her how dangerous Grayson Dolan is to her heart.

“It would be a bad idea.” She lets go of his hand, licking her lips. “Maybe another time.”

Nodding, Grayson sniffled, his allergies making his nose runny. “I swear I’m not crying, I have allergies!”

Giggling, Ella smirks, “Sure. And here I thought you were having a hard time parting with me.”

His smile fading, Grayson’s face loses the usual lightheartedness, “I always have a hard time parting with you.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Ella’s lips part, “You’ve just met me five days ago.”

Shrugging, Grayson steps back, “Feels like a lifetime.” Nodding over to the front door of her dorm, he manages a small smile, “Go in, I’ll wait till you’re inside.”

Licking her lips, she exhales loudly. She takes a few steps away, her back turned on Grayson. Stopping, she glances over her shoulder at him - standing there with the sun setting behind him, a picture perfect man with his hands in his front pockets and she felt breathless as she took him in. Shaking her head, she rushed toward him. With her hands on his shoulders, she stood on her tiptoes until her lips pecked his cheek - fleetingly, feather light kind of a kiss that nearly stopped Grayson’s heart.

“I’ll see you soon”, she told him before she ran to the door. She stopped as her hand gripped the metal handle, looking back at him with a grin and Grayson knew he was in trouble - he liked this Ella, a little too much.

--

Grayson rarely felt as confident as he did when he was on the field. The screaming crowd always gave him enough of an ego boost to run on for a couple of weeks after. It’s been a long time since he was on the field, much too long not to be anxious about it, especially when he knew his teammates weren’t exactly friendly with him at the moment. Apparently if you sleep around with their girlfriends behind their backs, they might end up resenting you for it. Yet another thing he could thank manwhore Grayson for.

The game isn’t the only thing making him nervous. Ella wearing his jersey meant they would officially claim their fake dating trope and knowing she might not be entirely into the idea had left him wondering if he’s forcing it on her.

A part of him wanted to hold her hand and ignore the sinking feeling and insecurities, but another part of him lived to see her smile. Her smile had made all the difference in the world. Instead of responding to the constant wave of girls trying to flirt their way to his pants, he only cared for one smile, one pair of eyes, just one girl who could make him swoon.

“How do we do this?” Ella frowns, looking at the door. She’s nervous, he can tell. All the classic signs of his Ella are there – biting her lip, crossing her arms at her chest only to tap her fingers on her forearms, blinking fast. She needed reassurance, Grayson simply wished to provide her with it when he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in.

“Oh”, she exclaims, caught off guard. “Didn’t realize we’d go for the half embrace, jersey on the special game kind of a walk, but sure.” With a tight lipped smile, Ella made the first step toward the door and Grayson followed.

Far too happy about the initial few gasps upon their entrance, Grayson grins. It’s official now, he’s staking his claim and taking charge and Ella is once again his. The girls whisper about as they walk past them, the guys spare no attempt to hide their wandering eyes from taking in the girl that made a guy like Grayson Dolan fold and commit.

“Don’t you two look lovely”, Ethan winks as he crosses their path, suppressing a smile as Grayson’s shit eating grin grows wider if that’s even possible.

“Your brother seems to be happy with our endeavor”, Ella notes. “Almost as if he knows the truth.”

“He does, but he’s also a sucker for romance. Says this is how most books start, but they never end this way.”

Raising an eyebrow, Ella cranes her neck to better look at her so-called boyfriend, “And do pray tell, how do they end?”

“A wedding.” Grayson chuckles, leading her to her first class of the day.

Stopping, Ella untangles herself from Grayson’s side almost instantly, leaving Grayson with a frown paired with a pout she found almost endearing

“Good thing we’re not in a book.”

Nodding, Grayson purses his lips, “I guess so. Wouldn’t be the worst thing though.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Ella narrows her eyes ever so slightly. “What do you mean?”

A small smile plays on his lips, one that is near her as he leans in. His lips brush her earlobe and she holds her breath, her heartbeat skipping as he whispers, “There are worse things than having you as a wife.”

Swallowing thickly, Ella watched him step back with a cocky smile, praying her cheeks aren’t red. But they are. Her cheeks seem to know no other color but red when Grayson is close by.

“I’ll see you for the game, alright?” Grayson presses two fingers to his lips only to rest them back on hers, “Call me if you need me.”

And so, as he walked away, Ella remained rooted. For the first time in a long time, she fully understood what all those girls saw in this frat manwhore and it concerned her greatly to know he could disarm her so easily and she allowed it to happen. What upset her further is that she wished it had been his lips atop hers, not just his fingers.

As the day continued, such as they always do, Ella found herself thinking back to moments spent with Grayson and it only amplified her curiosity. The Grayson she heard of felt entirely like a fabrication at this point. This Grayson, dare she say – her – Grayson is much better than anyone gives him credit for.

In the time spent together, she had come to see him as a flawed human being, but one who is learning from his mistakes and rectifying them. It’s not impossible for her to truly care for him if he continues down that path. Perhaps in the near future, she wouldn’t care about the dashing Daniel she was so enamored by. Perhaps Grayson could be the one she desires after all. 

There are worse fates than a wedding, she thought..

--

Grayson would like to say he didn’t miss Ella, but he’d be lying. No, he doesn’t mean this Ella, rather his Ella. He tells himself he needs to let go of her, of the softness in her raspy voice whenever she speaks to him or the flowery scents she’s obsessed with, but he cannot reconcile the possibility of never seeing her.

Could he truly fall for this Ella and accept his Ella is to be lost forever? Can he surrender and learn to live in his new life as if he had never known the tender kisses she’d leave on his jaw or the way she’d trail his tattoos every morning after making love. She’s the reason why he stopped calling it fucking or sex. Ella is why it became something more. How can anyone top that? Even if it’s another version of her, what if Grayson never moves on?

“You good?” Ethan smacks him on the back and Grayson’s breath leaves him. Eyes wide, he nods, inhaling sharply.

“How big is this game?��� Grayson wets his lips, finally hearing the cheering from the stands as he comes closer to the tunnel. Ethan shrugs, swiping his thumb just under his bottom lip.

“Career defining. We have scouts watching us tonight.” Ethan frowns, “If you wanted to fuck up our lives, botching tonight would be a fucktastic way to do it.”

“Great”, Grayson releases a heavy sigh, “No pressure then.”

Rolling his eyes, Ethan places his hands on Grayson’s padded shoulders, “Look, you’re not bad. You’ve been busting your ass in practice and you’re in shape, so just remember the plays and we’ll be good.”

“I’m the fucking quarterback, E. Why didn’t you take over for the night?”

Narrowing his eyes ever so slightly, Ethan gives Grayson a pointed look, “Because I have faith in you.”

“Somehow that makes it worse”, Grayson shakes his head, lips pressing into a thin line.

“Ella’s watching. Impress the girl and scouts and you’ll be on top of the world.”

And with that, Grayson put his helmet on and rushed onto the field with the rest of the team. He didn’t know what would happen, but he knew he had to try. If he doesn’t try, what’s the point? Life is about trying, again and again. Maybe some things are far too broken to be fixed, but he can piece himself up into a man every version of Ella would be proud to call hers.

Taking his position, Grayson scanned the stands quickly. His eye caught the empty seat where Ella was supposed to be and his heart sunk. She didn’t come.

Drawing a deep breath, Grayson swallows thickly.

“She’s with the cheerleaders!” Ethan shouts and Grayson’s head whips around to the cheerleaders only to find Ella waving at him.

A grin forms on his face as he waves back, wishing nothing more than to hold her in his arms. He really needs her tonight and maybe he can’t love her like he should, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her at all. This Ella, his Ella, any Ella – this woman’s soul is meant for him as much as his is meant for her. Just because he’s not the Grayson who gave her the jersey she ended up bringing back to him, doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy being the Grayson she likes. And she likes him – Grayson can tell.

Once the game started, Grayson had realized one thing - football is the way his entire being sang - a kind of music played in a way only the players and fans could hear. It was as if it is his opera, a tale of emotions told in struggle for the chance of earned glory.

Nothing could lessen the adrenaline coursing through his veins – not the mud, not the pain of being tackled nor the way he swore he’d pass out from all the running and shouting. Each time he managed to bring that football over the line, Grayson looked to Ella who jumped in excitement as if she actually cared about the result.

Deep down, Ella did care. It meant a lot to Grayson, not just winning but his position and popularity all stemmed from his ability to run with a ball without getting a concussion from a tackle. Every time he was on the ground, Ella had to physically restrain herself from running to his side. It hurt her to hear his pained grunts and for a moment, she cursed the moment she decided to ask her roommate to get her down to the field with the cheerleaders. She cashed in a favor to be closer to Grayson, regardless of the result and somehow she ended up getting a closer view of each time he was viciously brought onto the ground.

By the end, Grayson scored the winning touchdown and the crowd went wild. There isn’t a soul in that stadium that could deny the game was one of the best they’ve seen and no one doubted Grayson Dolan is a quarterback meant for much more than college football.

She saw him take his helmet off, the sweat matting his hair onto his forehead. The smile upon his lips felt like the sun itself shone upon her, especially when his hazel eyes found hers.

Fighting off his teammates' attempt to pick him up and carry him, Grayson ran straight toward her.

Ella heard about it, read about it – that moment when time seems to stop and you’re caught in between heartbeats and your breath is caught in your throat. Her heart is only human, flawed and frail and it feels as if it would give up on fighting to keep up with her emotions that explode inside her as Grayson comes closer and closer until she finds his arms around her waist and her feet off the ground.

She’s above him, her hands wrapped around his neck, fingertips buried in the hair at the back of his head. Her forehead rests atop of his, her smile as wide as his and for a moment, she throws caution out with the wind. Grayson spins them around, a throaty chuckle escaping him and his sweat doesn’t bother her even as she feels him soak her clothes. She doesn’t care about the people watching or the flashing cameras and she could care less about what anyone thinks about how odd of a pair they seem to be.

In the moment, she realizes he had wrecked her plans. She wanted to use him to gain Daniel’s affection, but he’s surprised her once again and he’s her man -  at least for the night. Ella had learned one important thing – Grayson is full of surprises and she wouldn’t mind discovering every inch of his complicated mind.

Without a warning, she leans down – stealing the few inches of distance between them. Her lips press against Grayson’s who freezes with the action. His facial features are heaven to Ella’s heart and soul, but she could be so happily mesmerized by those lips for all the days heaven grants her to come.

No longer stunned, Grayson’s dry lips join Ella’s in the public display of affection he certainly didn’t expect. In that moment of the kiss their chemistry becomes an ever-bright flame no one could deny, not even Ella.

And a sobering thought reminded her this might be just another kiss for Grayson. He may be handsome and charming, but there is a reason he’s also known as a manwhore and that thought makes her dread the future she could have with him. No matter how hard she tries, all she can see is heartbreak and he’d be fine – she would be the one to suffer, grieving for the living. He’s put roots in her heart and yet she can’t allow for them to grow.

Breaking the kiss, she draws a shuddered breath as her eyes remain closed for a moment longer. She just wants to remember it – the way he had made her feel like she’s whole, at home. It’s always going to be their first kiss, and if Ella had anything to do with it, it would be their last as well.

“Go”, she opens her eyes only to be met with his lopsided grin and a new kind of glow to his beautiful eyes. He looks blissful.

“Come with me”, his voice is hoarse, desperately holding onto her. But the moment’s passed, he can’t keep her a prisoner in his embrace forever. Grayson puts her down, his hands moving from her hips to her hands, barely holding on by their fingertips.

“You have a whole team waiting on you, a bunch of reporters and I know there are scouts who would love to talk to you. I’ll see you in the morning for our tutoring session if you don’t oversleep.” She chuckles, trying to hide how shaky she feels on the inside. Somehow, telling him to go felt deeper than that and she could see Grayson pick up on that too.

His forehead wrinkles, his eyebrows furrowing as he steps closer and she finds herself breathless. Wasn’t he close enough?

“You’re more important. Say the word and we can go anywhere you want.”

She could hear him clearly, feel the earnest tone of his voice in her bones. He seems to care about her but that promises nothing. Grayson is dangerous in the kind of way that would leave her desolate and wounded for years to come. Daniel is the safer option. The jealousy he displayed was enough to confirm her suspicions of him liking her back and she had to choose the lesser evil.

“Be by our tree in the morning and don’t leave me waiting too long, okay?” She smiles, trying to reassure him and yet his heart aches.

“I won’t drink. I’ll be there.” Grayson places a kiss on her forehead, a long lasting kind of a kiss that somehow felt more intimate than the one they shared minutes ago.

“Stay safe”, she steps back and as their hands part at the fingertips, Grayson swallows thickly. A part of him screamed at him to stay, but the other part could see Ella needed to be alone. He needed to respect her desire for space even if it hurts him.

--

Grayson honored his promise not to drink even a single drop of alcohol, despite peer pressure. He had decided that while Ella may have wanted to go home earlier, it didn’t mean he couldn’t come by and wish her a good night. Truth be told, he’d have traded the night for a moment with her, but he couldn’t destroy a life that isn’t his – not really.

He did manage to secure a few tryouts and summer program offers for himself, but when the talks were over, Grayson hit the showers and headed straight to Ella’s dorm room. 

He had one simple thought in mind – he’d admit he likes her and take her reaction for what it is. She may care for him or she may not, regardless of the outcome Grayson refused to cower and hide his feelings.

Maybe that’s why it shattered him so when he had seen her lip-locked with someone else. 

Lips parting, he felt himself sway as the gravity of the moment tore into him. She had taken his heart and she broke it apart, shredded the last bit of sanity he clung to. It feels like death, just the same as bereavement and in this quiet moment as he’s unable to avert his gaze it chokes the breath from his body and short circuits his mind. What was once whole is shattered; where once was peace now there is emptiness, echoes of a love he put his everything into.

Stumbling back, clutching his chest, Grayson walked back to his room. He can hardly remember how he got there, but he knew that he never missed his old life more. 

Ella was right, she’d never fall in love with a jock. She’d never fall in love with him in this life. 

While she was always in his head, even when he was scared to death to admit to it, Grayson seemed to be an afterthought in her head. 

He’s no longer afraid to admit the one truth he never told anyone – Grayson Dolan is wholeheartedly in love with Marizella Coleman, hopelessly hers in every universe he finds himself in.

There isn’t anything left to cling to, yet he can’t help but whisper her name under his breath – over and over, Grayson repeats her name like a lullaby until he finally falls asleep. 

--

“What exactly does this mean?” Ella traced a moon tattoo on Grayson’s chest, her interest piqued. It took five months for her and Grayson to get intimate, two more before she broke out of her shell and truly embraced that Grayson is hers. 

When she first met him, Grayson was lost. His priorities were all over the place, his mental health at an all time low and his bed was occupied by a different girl each night. 

It bothered her how careless he was with his mind and body, even more so by the fact that she wanted to give him her heart. But she bore witness to his ability to break hearts and she didn’t want to be another one in the line. 

If she was honest with herself, Grayson didn’t even know she existed. Not until he nearly knocked her out on the beach while chasing a ball. She knew him before he ever knew her and that made her careful, paranoid in a sense. If all those beautiful women couldn’t make him stay, how would she, an average girl next door, ever keep his interest long enough for him to see that she’s perfect for him?

“Nothing, it’s just pretty.” Grayson murmurs, wishing he could just wrap her up in his arms and forget about the world for the day. 

“You don’t get a tattoo because it’s pretty, Grayson”, Ella’s croaky morning voice forced his eyes open and a smile to form on his lips. He truly loves the sound of her voice more than the bird’s song.

“It’s my aesthetic”, Grayson’s cheeky smile makes her roll her eyes.

“Well then, I really shouldn’t show you the tattoo of my first boyfriend’s name then, should I?” She shrugged, turning away from Grayson who sat up quickly, his eyes wide and body rigid.

“I’D HAVE SEEN IT BY NOW”, Grayson exclaims, his voice penetratingly loud so much so Ella could hear Ethan grumble from his bedroom.

“It’s not easily noticeable”, Ella chuckles as Grayson’s jaw clicks, “But it’s my aesthetic, so it’s nothing. Maybe we can name our first born like that so it doesn’t go to waste”, she glances at Grayson with a coy look in her eyes, finding him heaving and ready to throw hands.

“Over my dead body”, Grayson growls, pulling her back to him as she yelps. Her laugh drowns out her scream as Grayson pins her down to the mattress beneath him, his hands firmly holding her by the wrists.

“Whatchu’ gonna do, big boy?” She teases him as he cocks an eyebrow, pursing his lips.

“I’ll make sure you scream my name so many times that no one ever comes to your mind again.”

--

Ella didn’t have any tattoos, but Grayson sure had fun finding out on his own. That was the first time she was no longer timid around him and he absolutely loved her teasing. Grayson didn’t enjoy remembering his Ella as much as he used to. Every memory brought him pain now that she was gone; that both of them were gone.

Avoiding Ella had become second nature and it wasn’t as difficult as he thought it would be. 

Waking up earlier to get to practice first, leaving last had given him no time to ponder on his broken heart. He’d arrive last and leave first during classes, avoiding the tree he had met her by twice so far. She did text him, leave a few voice messages as well, but Grayson didn’t bother checking what they said. 

Why torture himself further?

However, he forgot one simple fact about Ella that seems to be universal – she’s stubborn and that stubbornness had led to him finding her asleep with a book open on her chest right before his bedroom doors.

“Jesus”, he whispers under his breath, dragging his right hand across his face before resting his hands on his hips. Licking his lips, Grayson lets out a heavy sigh, unsure what to do. He can’t be around her anymore, not when he had a taste of happiness and lost it. 

He held tightly to her because she’s Ella – because her soul speaks to his, because even in the darkest nights she would be his compass. But this Ella isn’t his Ella, she’s never going to be his Ella and he hoped he’d somehow convince himself she is. 

Truth be told, he didn’t know what he was thinking when he got involved with her. She had no recollection of their time together in his universe, she had no obligation to care about him and his feelings. She barely knows him and what she knows is scarcely him and mostly the Grayson that belongs in this universe. 

Reluctantly, Grayson taps her shoulder. She flinches, the book falling with a thud as her wide eyes fix on his figure and that’s when they narrow and set aflame.

“Where the hell have you been?!” She stands abruptly, pointing the tip of her index finger at his chest, “I’ve been trying to reach you for a week!” Poking his chest, her nostrils flare, “I thought you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere!”

Wrapping his hand around her index finger, Grayson encases her entire hand along with it. “I’m sorry, I needed time.”

“Time? Time for what?” She frowns, the horizontal line between her eyebrows forming. 

“To make my peace with you and Kenny”, he sighs. He watches her face change from a frown to disbelief and when she rolls her eyes, he knows she’s annoyed with him.

“It’s Danny and he’s not my anything.” Placing her free hand on his cheek, she cocks her head to the left ever so slightly, “He’s not even a friend anymore. I don’t give a shit about him.”

“So why was he kissing you on game night?” Grayson counters, lips pressed in a thin line while hers part.

“Were you stalking me?”

Shaking his head, Grayson releases her hand while dragging the other one away from his face. 

“No. I wanted to see you and I did. With him.” Clenching his jaw, Grayson felt a wave of jealousy wash over him and it didn’t help that Ella had chuckled dryly.

“He kissed me and I was shocked but I pushed him away. And I told him I’m taken.” Licking her lips, she averts her gaze to the thread hanging from his sleeve. “By you”, she continues, “I told him you’re the one and I went inside and went to sleep.”

“You chose me?” Grayson releases a shaky breath, unsure what to do. “You can’t choose me, Ella.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, she steps back, “Oh! You don’t like me?” She swallows thickly, folding her arms across her chest. In all the scenarios she had made up in her head, him not liking her back was never one of them. It mortified her how silly she must look to him.

“No, no, I do!” Grayson stops her before she spirals, cupping her cheeks gently, “I like you, if I’m being completely honest, but I’m not…” Closing his eyes, Grayson smiles in disbelief over what he’s about to say, “You’re gonna think I’m crazy, but I have to be honest.”

“You’re scaring me”, she says softly, her voice shaky. 

“If I told you I’m Grayson from an alternative universe and that we’re a couple in that universe, would you believe me?” 

Her breathing becomes softer, the pensive look melting into a smile as soft as the morning light. “Okay, that’s cute, but I don’t think it’s time for jokes.”

“You started writing a book when you were sixteen and you never told anyone.” Grayson states and she stumbles back, eyes wide. She had never spoken aloud of her book, never once. That book remains in a locked folder on her old laptop, not even she had laid her eyes on it in two years. She gave up on it completely. 

“How?”

“You absolutely adore the ocean and believe you were a mermaid in a previous life.” Grayson continues as Ella pales.

“You’ve always hated coffee, but if you have to drink it you add half a cup of milk and four sugar cubes.”

Shaking her head, she runs her hands through her hair, unable to comprehend what Grayson is saying.

“You’ve always been terrified of the dark, so you sleep with a pink turtle nightlight you’ve had since you were ten. You have a beauty mark between your breasts you absolutely hate and are insecure about, but I find it sexy as hell.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW ALL OF THAT?” Ella shouts in panic, her breathing labored. 

“Because I know you. From a different universe, but it’s you. And I love you. With all my heart and I know this is crazy, but I woke up here and everything changed overnight.” Slumping to the ground, Grayson hides his face in his hands. “And I fucking miss her. I miss my Ella so, so much and I have never been worthy of her, but she loves me anyway and I’m here.”

A hand on his shoulder makes his heart skip a beat, bearing her weight as she uses him to slide to the ground next to him. 

“What is she like?” Ella’s shaky hand slides down his arm, slipping into his hand. She’s quiet, defeated by the news, in shock if she’s entirely honest. It’s way too much all at once and she never thought it could be possible she’d like Grayson Dolan so much it hurt to imagine him with anyone, even if that someone is herself.

“She sold that book and is writing a second book while studying. And she’s kind, witty and shy but incredibly outgoing with people she’s comfortable with.” Grayson doesn’t even notice the smile on his face as he speaks of his Ella, but this Ella does. She’s jealous of her alternative self for having a guy like Grayson smile as he mentions her. She hates her other self for being brave enough to publish the book and live her dreams...well, old dreams. She’s not dreaming about being a writer anymore.

“I love her, but I was afraid to tell her that. I was afraid of fully committing myself to her.” Grayson admits, unsure what good it does him now.

“When did you wake up here?” She interrupts him, wanting to know what was him and what wasn’t. Has it always been this Grayson? Did she spend all this time falling in love with the wrong guy?

“Woke up with a killer headache after some frat party. Think it was that party when he gave you the jersey.” Grayson glances at her, noticing a small smile upon her lips.

“So it was him then”, she sighs. Leaning her head on the door, she closes her eyes. “But all of this was you.”

“Yeah.” Grayson intertwines their fingers, seeking comfort. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be”, Ella shrugs, “That Grayson wouldn’t have bothered with me.”

“That Grayson is a manwhoring mess.” Grayson chuckles, “But I was the same before I met my Ella. Maybe he just needs a nudge in the right direction.”

“Is it bad if I wish you to stay here?” Ella’s voice is quiet and wobbly, just above a whisper and it catches Grayson off guard.

“Is it bad if I say I fell in love with you just as I fell for my Ella?” Grayson counters and she lets out a breathless chuckle.

“It’s not bad, I mean I’m still Ella. Just on a different path in life.” Shrugging, she leans her head on Grayson’s shoulder, “Maybe that Grayson is you on a different path too? Maybe he doesn’t need an Ella of his own?”

Wrapping an arm around Ella, Grayson brings her closer to him, “Every Grayson needs an Ella.”

And in the silence, they found the comfort they both seek. It’s not right, but it felt perfect.

“You two are gloomy.” Ethan states, scaring them both. They were perfectly content staring at nothing in particular, just sitting there with the inner struggle wrecking them apart.

“You should wear a bell”, Grayson remarks and Ethan rolls his eyes.

“When you say shit like that, I genuinely can’t tell the difference”, Ethan steps aside, trying to get to the door.

“Does he know?” Ella asks and Grayson nods.

“Yeah, he’s the only one who knew.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Ethan glares at Grayson, “So you told her?”

“Yup”, Ella exclaims.

“Great!” Ethan opens the door, letting the pair fall on their backs with a string of curses from Grayson’s mouth and a small yelp from Ella’s. 

Grayson barely got up to his feet, helping Ella up as well when Ethan screamed, “KRISTINA FOLLOWED ME BACK!”

--

Laying on the bed with Grayson beside her, Ella wasn’t sure what to think anymore. Part of her thought she’s insane for believing him so quickly, yet another part of her knew with absolute certainty that no one couldn’t know the details he mentioned a few weeks ago and that if he knew them, the other version of her must have truly loved him to spill the beans.

Ever since then, they’ve been inseparable. Ella knew it was unwise to spend so much time with Grayson, to get involved more than she already has. One day, she’d wake up next to the other Grayson and she’d be left alone. It would be over before it started and she didn’t know how to accept the fact he’s never going to be hers. Not really.

“What are you thinking about?” Grayson breaks the silence, noticing she’s deep in thought.

“About the day I wake up to the other you.” She admits and Grayson frowns, propping himself up on his elbows. He’s never going to get used to how straightforward this Ella is. He both loves and fears that about her.

“You think it’s gonna happen?”

Nodding, she sighs, “I just feel it. It’s unexplainable.”

Swallowing thickly, Grayson licks his lips, “If it does, don’t give up on me.” 

Grayson’s eyes flicker to her lips only to pull away before he dares to even think about it further. They may be spending all of this time together and sleep in the same bed most nights, but they’ve never once kissed since the night of the game. Ella said she wanted to give her other self some much deserved respect and not cheat though she wasn’t sure if it qualified as cheating either.

“You? That won’t be you, Gray.” Ella rubs her nose, sniffling. “He won’t be you, just like I’ll never be Ella for you. Which sucks.” Tears brim her long eyelashes, tugging at Grayson’s heartstrings.

“You are Ella. Even though you’re a little braver and confident, you’re her and she is you.” Grayson tries, but Ella shakes her head.

“No. That’s not true! I don’t have her memories or experiences and that’s what shapes a person. That Grayson won’t be you and truth be told, I’m not sure if I want him at all.” Sitting up, she hides her face in her hands.

 “I’m not braver either, I’m just rougher around the edges. I could never publish that book like she did or move to Los Angeles and date a famous YouTuber.” Breathing fast, Ella felt like her head would explode.

“Hey, hey, hey”, Grayson says softly, his hands running up and down her back in hopes of soothing her. “Ells, what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” She exclaims, “I want you and I can’t have you! I can’t be with you when you’re already mine but in a different world and even if I ignore that, I can’t ignore the fact that sometime, even ten years down the line I could wake up to the other Grayson instead of you and it’s making me crazy!”

Wrapping his arms around Ella, Grayson held her close as she wept long into the night and he had never quite understood all the stories of the way your entire being hurts when your heart is broken and his heart is fucking shattered.

He’s holding the reason for his existence in his arms and he can’t ease her pain because he’s the cause of it. He wants to love her and she wants to love him back, but they can’t and Ella is right – even if he ignored the fact he’s not from her universe and went for it, there was no telling how long he’d be there.

In a spiritual life, much like the physical, there is an inhale and an exhale; the soul needs to inhale the feelings of another soul in order to claim them, to enrich them before returning it in an exhale. Without this, there is no life for the heart, without it, the heart is suffocating, suffering, withering.

And that’s exactly how Grayson and Ella feel right now – suffocating, suffering, withering.

As her breathing evens out and Grayson realizes she’s fallen asleep despite the occasional sob she lets out in her sleep, he looks up at the ceiling and sighs heavily as if the world’s weight is crushing him.

“Please make this right. For her sake. I don’t even care what happens to me, just make Ella happy again. Please.”

And when Grayson closed his eyes, he never imagined it would be the last night he spends in her bed.

--

With closed eyes, Grayson reached out for Ella. He didn’t remember when she slipped out of his arms in the night, but he wouldn’t consciously keep it that way. Having her close felt like a lifeline for Grayson, even if they were trying to keep it platonic. Too often did he consider just moving on with her, pretending as if his life is in a universe made not for him.

He wanted to stay and help Ethan get with Kristina, to help his sister start her own design company if she was still interested in that field or to simply go home and see his family. He wondered far too often how they were, but he never dared to ask Ethan about it. It’s a sore subject for Grayson, even now. He imagined it was the same for Ethan.

“Ella?” He grumbles, squinting to find her when his arm fails. Furrowing his eyebrows, he looks at the much larger bed he’s on with a concerned look upon his face. “What the –“, he starts only to recognize the bed-sheets Ella spent three days making a pro/con list for. “Oh God”, Grayson jumps to his feet, looking around wildly.

The lamp next to his bed is replaced by an old alarm clock, his windows are covered with drapes he doesn’t remember having and the floor is covered in clothes Grayson never saw in his life. Looking down, he finds his thighs are covered in tattoos and a choked sob escapes him.

He’s not sure if he’s happy or not about the possibility of being in his own universe again. There is still a chance he’s in a new universe altogether, but even if he’s back home, what exactly is he coming home to? What exactly did he leave behind?

That Ella must have had a shock of a lifetime when she woke up to the manwhore version of himself and he wished he could apologize to her for it, but he’ll never get to see her or talk to her again.

And then he remembered, “Ella”, he breathed out as he ran to the door. He’s not sure if she’s even there, if she even stayed after the switch brought his worst self to her bed and he realized his Ella had woken up to that Grayson too.

Heart in his throat, Grayson stumbles as he heads to the kitchen where he hears movement. He isn’t sure what is waiting for him here, but when he sees the messy bun he always loved to untangle and the back of her neck that he loved to kiss, Grayson felt his heart stop.

Swallowing thickly, he stood there, frozen at the sight of her. She’s so close that he could have her in his arms in a few steps, but would she forgive him if he told her he kissed the other Ella? Would she forgive him if he told her he had started liking the life he had in that universe?

Wetting his lips, he lets his heart guide him as his feet take him closer and once he’s there, his arms wrap around her on instinct. His head rests on her shoulder and he can feel her tense up, but he’s barely holding back tears as he inhales her familiar scent.

Grayson missed Ella in every possible way. His soul yearned for hers and being back in her presence had made him crumble.

“What are you doing?” She groans, trying to unwrap his arms from around her waist. “I told you I will never sleep with you!” She raises her voice as she slaps at his hands and Grayson finally snaps out of it, releasing her.

She whips around, eyes narrowed at Grayson who furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Pointing the tip of her index finger at his chest, Ella’s nostrils flare, “You have to stop this! I’m not a toy you can play with whenever you feel like it. I’m in pain!” She exclaims, pausing as she averts her gaze and her hand drops, “Do you even know what seeing you feels for me?” She sniffles as tears fill her eyes. “You’re wearing his face and body, but you’re too different. You’ve become better, you’ve done the work, but I love him. I can’t just forget about that.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Grayson felt his heart break further. It never occurred to him how hard this might have been for his Ella. She was stuck with the manwhore who would have broken her heart and he did. It was a relief she knew it wasn’t him, at least. His Ella knew better than the other Ella.

“And I love you”, Grayson manages a smile, “I’m sorry it took me this long to tell you.”

“What?” Ella crosses her arms, looking at him as if he’s offended her.

“It’s me, Ella. I’m back.” Grayson tries reaching out for her hand only to have her shake her head and move away. She’s physically revolted by his presence while he’s aching for a smile from her pressed lips.

“You’ve tried this before. I’m not going to fall for your shitty tricks”, Ella heaves, a hand placed on her chest as her tears spill over.

“He tried this?!” Grayson practically growls, slamming his fist on the countertop. “Did he touch you?” Grayson’s jaw clenches as he looks to a shaky Ella who isn’t sure what to say or believe anymore. It’s like she’s drowning with no help in sight.

“Please stop”, she croaks, “I thought you and I were friends now.”

Chuckling dryly, Grayson shakes his head, “Your pet fish was called Goldie because she was gold. Your turtle Rocky bit her tail off and she died.” Stepping closer, he points at her chest, “You have a birthmark right between your breasts.” Pursing his lips, he wonders what else he could tell her. Her eyes are wide, glistening with tears, but he has to let her know it’s him. “When we first met you called me and Ethan snotty teenagers. You hate my decorating skills and you hate my snoring.”

“Grayson?” Her voice is shaky as she steps closer, reaching her trembling hand out. Her palm finds its way to his cheek and Grayson leans into it with a soft sigh. “You came back to me?”

Taking her face in his hands, he rests his forehead on hers, “I did.”

“It’s been so hard”, she whispers and he closes his eyes.

“You were right, you know?” Grayson’s nose brushes hers, “You wouldn’t like the jock Grayson. But I really liked college Ella.” 

Grayson often debated if he should be honest with Ella if he somehow made his way back home and despite his doubts, he remembers their relationship is founded on honesty. He promised her he’d always tell her the truth and he couldn’t look her in the eye and ignore the fact he had felt a little heartbroken about the Ella he left behind.

“You met me?” She steps back, wanting to look at him better.

“I’ll always find you”, Grayson smiles.

“You fell for her, didn’t you?” Ella steps back, hurt flashing behind her brown eyes.

“I did fall for her”, Grayson admits, “But I love you.”

Staring at Grayson, Ella didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to feel either. Would she be right to hold it against him? After all, it was still her. Grayson loved her, in every universe. So why does it feel like he had cheated on her? Why does her heart bleed?

“Did you touch her like you touch me?”

Breaking eye contact, Grayson leans on the countertops, “I kissed her once.”

“Once”, Ella chuckles dryly. “I almost had sex with the other you, but at least I didn’t know the truth. You knew the girl you were kissing wasn’t really me. She’s someone I will never be and she will never be me.”

“Please don’t hate me”, Grayson croaks as tears form in his eyes. He’s not ready to lose her, but he’s not ready to keep her with him by lying. She deserves better and he knows that.

“I don’t hate you, Grayson”, she lets out a shuddered breath, “I wish I did. It would be easier.”

“Easier?” Grayson’s eyebrows furrow when she takes her bag and puts it over her shoulder.

“I need some time and I need you not to look for me.” It was killing her to do this, to take a step back from their relationship. Ella needed some perspective, to find a way to breathe again and being close to Grayson always felt like she was trying to keep her head above the crashing waves.

“Ella”, Grayson reaches for her but she recoils from him, again. She had done it once when she thought it was his other self, but she knew this was him. She still didn’t want him.

“I have never asked anything from you, but I need this.” Ella covers her mouth to stop a sob from passing her lips as she turns from Grayson and heads for the door only to run into Ethan and Kristina.

Kristina is quick to wrap her arms around Ella, both of them leaving through the front door.

But Ethan wasn’t leaving. He turned to Grayson with a stone cold look in his eyes and headed for him with a formed fist prepared to leave a mark.

“What did you do?!” Ethan shouted, ready to lay Grayson out in a single punch.

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Grayson circles the countertops so he’d be on a different side from Ethan who wanted blood.

“Whoa! It’s me, E! It’s Grayson! I’m back!” Grayson insisted as he ran in circles with Ethan, “YOUR FIRST TIME WAS WHEN YOU WERE 17!” He shouts and Ethan stops, eyes wide. “You also drank a beer when you were 16, but you’d never admit it. You hated onions as a kid!”

“Grayson?”

--

“How cool was the other me?” Ethan smirks as Grayson rolls his eyes, unsure if he should be annoyed or angry at his brother for not doing a better job at protecting Ella from the other Grayson who had clearly left her broken with issues he didn’t know how to resolve.

“You were single as fuck and a nerd”, Grayson sighs, “Kristina wasn’t even an acquaintance and the car you drove was more like a trash can running on fumes.”

Staring blankly, Ethan swallows thickly, “I don’t like that universe.”

“I liked it”, Grayson covers his face with his hands, his voice filled with remorse. “I didn’t know my life here was imploding while I was living the life I genuinely prefer over this one.”

“You’re saying college football was better than this house?” Ethan raises an eyebrow, “The money we have, the world we’ve seen, people we’ve met?”

Nodding, Grayson drags his palms down his face, “It was so much better.”

“Well, good for you. Meanwhile Kristina and I were dealing with a manwhore baby Grayson with no impulse control who was a pathological liar and manipulator.” Flicking a crumb from the countertop onto Grayson, Ethan continues, “Ella cried herself to sleep every night and we didn’t know what the fuck is happening.”

“She said she almost slept with him”, Grayson gulps audibly, unsure if he’s feeling guilty over the position that put her in, angry she’s angry at him when she nearly did something worse or jealous over the fact she had been touched by what seems to be the demonic version of him.

“You literally admitted to kissing the other Ella, I hardly think you have any room to judge anything she did Grayson.” Ethan’s tone is cold, his words harsh but truthful. Grayson has no right to be angry or jealous, he was a willing participant while his Ella was tricked.

“I can’t explain it”, Grayson runs his fingers through his hair, moving it away from his forehead. Truth be told, he got used to the short hair from the other universe, he couldn’t wait to cut it again. “She was still Ella. They had their differences, but she was still Ella and the more time I spent with her, less I wanted to be away from her.”

“Look, this is uncharted territory. We can’t exactly define any rules in a situation that had no rules, so just give her a moment to deal with this on her own terms.” Ethan places his hand on Grayson’s shoulder, hoping to comfort his brother but even he was having issues looking at him normally after everything the other Grayson did.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Grayson frowns, lips parted as Ethan’s eyes widen.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m about to fuck something up”, Grayson’s frown deepens as Ethan presses his lips together, genuinely having flashbacks to the insanity of manwhore Grayson and the stress he caused.

“I’m just waiting for you to start complaining about the tattoos or fake gag at vegan food or order a bunch of fried chicken or maybe scream about a game you’re missing.” Ethan rambles on as Grayson cackles, shaking his head.

“Man, I’m a dick!”

“Oh, no, the dick part was you hitting on Ella and then winking at every cute girl in your way.” Ethan raises both eyebrows as he shrugs, “I did smack you every time I could tho’, Kris did too.”

“Good”, Grayson exhales through his nose, his lips pressed as his eyes fall to his hands. “I really didn’t want to hurt her. Either Ella”, Grayson’s voice is meek, defeated and the empty look in his eyes speaks volumes of the weight that’s been forced upon his heart.

“I know”, Ethan manages a smile, “You’ll get her back.”

“Think so?” Grayson raises his eyebrows, an inkling of hope lingering deep behind his brown hues.

Ethan’s smile widens in an instant, “Know so.”

--

In this broken world Ella is Grayson’s world, his healer, his light and love, good women are that way. He missed her, more and more as each day passed and while it seemed like the world was spinning madly on, Grayson’s life felt like it stopped the day she walked out the door.

Kristina came back hours later, but Ella didn’t. What made it worse is that whatever Ella shared with Kristina had turned her against Grayson as well. She didn’t want to speak to him, much less to convey his messages to Ella and Grayson was sure they were in contact.

This heartbreak was unexpected, as they always are - top of the world one minute and cut down the next. Grayson expected to be blissful if he ever found his way back, but he only found misery. He could only blame himself for having broken not one, but three hearts the night he made his way back home.

Oftentimes, Grayson wondered what happened with the other Grayson and Ella when they woke up together, sharing a single bed. Did he once again try to lie and manipulate Ella or was he decent enough to tell her the truth.

Grayson feared he didn’t. He could only hope he was better with her, for her. Ella deserved that much and he believed she was more compatible with manwhore Grayson anyway. If anyone can whip him back into shape it would be her.

And his Ella, his beautiful, kind Ella…He thought about her all the time. What is she up to? Where is she? Is she as lonely as he is?

He failed her, both of them. He failed himself too.

Hearing Ethan talk about the constant stress the other Grayson put on her, their fights, her refusal to walk away because she hoped it would get better. She didn’t give up on him then, even though he was his worst self, but she walked away when she heard he had made a conscious decision to kiss someone else. 

He betrayed her trust and despite feeling guilty, he couldn’t regret it. Meeting her in a different universe only convinced him she’s his soulmate more. He couldn’t imagine life without her, in any reality.

And as a month passed, Grayson found it impossible to sleep in the bed he once shared with Ella. He preferred to sleep on the couch, even if his back felt broken in the morning. The pain was comforting compared to the loneliness the bed evoked. It was better off this way. He hated himself in that bed, he blamed himself every night and morning.

Closing his eyes, Grayson felt a tear roll down his temple. If he’s entirely honest, he’s not sure if he’s just too fucked up to ever love anyone like he loves Ella. He swallows thickly as his heart clenches in pain as his senses trick him into believing she’s with him.

For a moment, he could have sworn he smelled her perfume, the one he was absolutely smitten with. She wore it when they first met, she wore it when they first kissed and she wore it when they first became one. That perfume signifies all their firsts, all the good memories and even the fights he remembers carry a nostalgic happiness to them. Fighting is better than the silence she left him in. If she’s fighting, she cares but when she stops, that’s when crippling fear takes place and Grayson’s been consumed by that fear for too long.

A weight falls on him, a warmth engulfing him. The scent is stronger now, almost like she’s still there with him and in a moment of weakness, Grayson’s lips pass a strangled sob from deep within twenty one grams of soul and the sanity he once possessed.

“Don’t cry”, a raspy voice fills the silence and Grayson’s heart nearly stops. He’s hallucinating now, clearly he’s lost his mind. “If you cry, I cry”, the voice returns as a whisper and Grayson’s not sure if it’s all a dream.

Opening his eyes, he gasps once he sees Ella’s head resting on his chest. She’s laid upon him like a safety blanket, a tad too short to truly cover him but effective in its intent.

“You’re here”, Grayson breathes out and her head moves up so her eyes meet his.

“I couldn’t trust you, I didn’t even trust myself that day. I didn’t dare let you near me scared that I’ll lose you the same, but I can’t let that fear dictate my life and I can’t bear the pain of staying away.”

Running his hand down her back, Grayson pulls her up ever so slightly so he could easily kiss her lips if she allowed him to. He wanted to be able to see every change in her eyes, every line of her face.

“I love you”, he stops her from speaking, finding her apologies unnecessary. She had enough of heartbreak for both of them when he disappeared.

“Don’t let me run again”, her voice breaks and Grayson notices the tears pricking at her eyes, “I know I asked you to let me go, but don’t. I got mad and insecure, but I love you. So don’t ever let me leave again.”

Brushing the tip of his nose against hers, Grayson’s lips curl at the corners, “Never.”

“Do you want to tell me how awesome the other me was?” She raises her eyebrows expectantly as Gray gives her a slight shake of his head.

“Well, you were crushing on some dick Dougie”, Grayson starts and her eyebrows furrow in confusion before her mouth opens wide.

“You mean Danny?!”

The excited tone instantly put a frown on Grayson’s face, making Ella chuckle.

“He was my first ever boyfriend back home!” She continues, further aggravating Grayson who could no longer hold back. He told himself he’d be more patient, but it’s a work in progress and he needed her to stop talking, so he did the most natural thing he could think of.

He kissed her.

Before she could withdraw, his arms were around her. He bent back her head across his arm and kissed her, softly at first, and then with a swift gradation of intensity that made her cling to him as the only solid thing in a dizzy swaying world. His insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremors along her nerves, evoking from her sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling. And before a swimming giddiness spun her round and round, she knew that she was kissing him back.

It’s like opening up your soul to tasting, feeling and seeing every color of the rainbow in their own sensual way. For Ella it felt almost like catching Grayson’s smile in a bottle, its softness, its sweetness, the slight arrogance that provoked a reaction of her insatiable need for his touch. Kissing Grayson felt just like breathing oxygen she needs to keep her heart beating. His kisses warm the soul. His kisses are right. He is right; for her, with her, he’s the part of her she can’t imagine her future without.

“Never mention Doyle when you’re in my arms”, Grayson whispers against her lips, “Don’t mention Dairy, ever again”, Grayson adds while she giggles, amused by his absolute refusal to say the name right. “That would have been an awful tattoo”, he adds as she chuckles.

“If this is my punishment, I might be inclined to break that rule”, she winks, “Often”.

For a moment, Grayson stopped and stared. She didn’t seem shy or less brave than the other Ella at all. She felt brazen, unapologetically her and Grayson realized for once and all, his Ella, as complicated as she may be, is absolute perfection.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m a man of my words, isn’t it?” Grayson’s smirk is gone once his lips claim Ella’s again and she releases a satisfied moan in response. It was the kind of kiss that was so intoxicating your brain couldn’t handle thinking about anything else.

“I love you”, Grayson whispers against her lips, “I love you”, he repeats. “I love you, I love you, I love you”, he peppers her face and neck with feather light kisses, repeating his ‘I love you’ over and over like a prayer that was finally answered.

No matter what was in store for them, Grayson believed they would find their way back to each other. After all, they’re meant to be and for once, he didn’t doubt that saying. 

People who are meant to be together always find their way in the end.

[kinktae]

flesh and blood || (M)

You are living in a society that is just now picking up the scraps that the Great Outbreak left behind after the government killed off the majority of the zombies. Still, some remain, and fear still lies within society’s walls. So imagine your surprise when the very thing you’ve been taught to fear ends up saving your life, showing you that maybe two beating hearts aren't always required when it comes to love.

pairing: zombie!jungkook x reader

word count: 6k

genre: post-apocalyptic, sci-fi, smut

warnings: guns, a semi spooky scene, crack plot written seriously, zombie jk falling for Y/N, part 2 will have smut

A/N: inspired by warm bodies and the fact that I'm a legitimate crackhead. Happy Halloween!

01 | 02 | 03

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PART ONE 

❝ Breaking News! A group of Walkers has been discovered hiding in the ruins of a Pre-Break Out industrial zone. A conference was held in City Hall where a representative of the DEAD Team said this in regards to the situation…❞

"Ugh, turn it down Junny," You grumbled, tugging your blanket over your head in hopes to null out the sound of the overly enthusiastic broadcaster on the television, "I'm trying to nap here."

"No way! Dad, did you hear? They found a family of zombies in our town!" Your younger brother enthused, wide eyes glued to the glass screen of the TV. He was sat beside your feet on the couch you laid on and you fought the urge to kick him off the furniture.

Your mother and father walked into the room shortly after, Junny's yells summoning their attention.

Rolling over, you sat up to see your dad standing behind the couch, arms crossed over his chest as he offered the screen his undivided attention.

Though the worst times of the Great Outbreak were now thought to be over – there hadn't been a reported zombie attack in years – the fear still lingered. You were just an infant when the zombie infestation was at its worst so perhaps that fear never had the chance to sink its filthy claws into you but you weren’t naive to the way the rest of the world still trembled.

Your father’s expression was solemn and impenetrable; if it weren’t for the way his eyes always gave away what he was truly feeling, you wouldn’t have a clue that he was upset. Glimmering behind his pupils were flashes of anger and consternation, along with memories of a story you had yet to hear.

Two decades ago, your father, along with many other young men and women, had volunteered to team up with the government to help contain the outbreak, hunting down and capturing zombies so they could be whisked off to a facility where they were killed in quarantine.

While the cause of the breakout seemed to be agreed upon, there was still much about the walking dead that remained a mystery to the general public.

Decades before the Great Outbreak, an experimental drug by the name of Immortuos had been growing in popularity. It was said to do anything from alleviating chronic pain to ridding the body of illness altogether. Ten years after its introduction, Immortuos had been administered to millions around the world. As time went on, however, the drug began to show signs of short term effectiveness; within a couple of years, symptoms of the illnesses it was meant to cure began to show up in individuals once again.

Immortuos was quickly discontinued and sent back into research, leaving scientists scratching their heads as they tried to figure out where they went wrong.

And so life went on; people, old and young, continued to live and die as they did before. However, years after the drug's discontinuation, a story broke out of a mortuary that came to life in the middle of the night in a rural town in Spain. And that was how the outbreak began, millions of corpses everywhere suddenly resurrecting. Published reports of zombie autopsies found that consciousness and motor functioning had returned despite the fact that the circulatory system had never revived, leaving the bodies without blood or oxygen. Not fully dead but not fully alive either. A sort of undead. And sure enough, a direct link to the use of the drug and resurrection was discovered.

Your father rarely spoke of that time; not that you ever had bothered to ask about it. It was unsettling to think he was ever one of the people hunting down zombies.

"Does this mean I don't have to go to school tomorrow?" Junny grinned boyishly, looking up at your mother.

"Nice try, Junseo. You're going." Your mother dismissed without a blink of an eye. You chuckled at the way your little brother scowled at her words.

On the screen was a recording of what you assumed must have been the conference held in City Hall. There was a man dressed in the DEAD Team uniform speaking into a microphone from behind a podium. You focused on the screen ahead, tuning out the chattering of your family as you listened to his words.

❝ Citizens of this town can rest assured that the Walkers in question were apprehended and sent off to our termination facility. We can't stress enough how crucial it is that you continue to send in reports of possible zombie sightings. Even if it's a false alarm, the risk isn't worth taking. Remember to not engage with the undead as they will attack unprovoked. These creatures don't care who you are or what you do, to them you are nothing more than their next meal.❞

A frown found your face at the officer's words. There hadn't been a zombie attack in years. It was hard to believe that zombies were truly insatiable, will stop at nothing, blood-lusting monsters.

"I thought we got rid of them all." Junny sighed.

"Most of them." Your father explained dully. "There are a few still lingering around."

"I still don't understand why we have to wait for the DEAD Team to take them out. If I run into one on my way to the market, I want to be able to protect myself right then and there." Your mother huffed suddenly, turning away from the TV.

She had always been a formidable woman– strong and independent. You had a feeling that if she hadn’t been tied down by a newborn child, she would've been there fighting alongside your father during the Great Outbreak.

Your father let out a sigh, "We don't want whatever is inside them possibly infecting normal civilians. That's why they have to be put down in quarantine."

“Whatever. I’m just glad we're almost completely rid of those bastards.” Your mother sighed, ruffling the hair on top of your brother's head.

Your eyebrows furrowed, unable to hide your distaste for any longer.

"And we say they are the monsters..." You muttered quietly.

Immediately, all eyes were on you.

"Excuse me? What was that?" Your mother cautioned.

You held her stare unabashedly, clearly having no intention to take back your words. Junseo's eyes flickered among the two of you, knowing the nature of the conversation that was soon to come. As much as you complained about how stubborn your mother was, he knew that you had inherited the very trait you resented.

"How can sit there and wish death on all those innocent people?"

"Y/N, this again?" Your mother let out an exasperated noise.

Your eyes grew wide with defiance, "Yes, this again. It doesn’t matter if they were once dead, they are still people! We have massacred millions and I don't understand how you all don’t so much as bat an eye at the thought of it."

At your words, your mother let out a bitter laugh, head shaking in disbelief.

"And what about the people those crimson heads have killed? What about the chaos and lives sacrificed to protect us from them?" Your mother retorted.

You scoffed, eyes rolling in unwavering disobedience.

“Did we even try to help them? To understand them?”

"You didn't live through the outbreak like your father and I did. You were just a baby. There are things you don't know, Y/N." She pressed angrily, doing nothing to sway your stance.

"What if it was me?" You challenged coldly. "What if I had died and came back to life? Would your first instinct be to put a bullet through my head? Those people had families!"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/N. They're not people, they’re rotting corpses that can walk and it’s about damn time you realized that.”

It was at this point that your father had decided to step in, placing a hand on your shoulder as he stopped you from arguing further.

"That's enough. The both of you. Arguing is a waste of time. We should be grateful for one another. We're a family and we're all together. Not everyone who survived the outbreak can say the same." His tone was matter-of-fact but not cold in the way your mother's had been.

Looking up at him, his cautious eyes met your ardent ones. They were laced in a plea for you to stop... to understand.

Pressing your lips together, you nodded begrudgingly. Your dad was right. Arguing with your mother was a waste of time. It wasn't as if anything you said would get through to her anyway.

Pushing the blanket off your body, you swung your legs back over to the floor, hand reaching out for your bag that was sitting against the coffee table.

"Where are you going?" Your father asked, eyeing you as you got up and hauled the bag over your shoulder.

"Home. Joon is probably waiting up for me." You told him disinterestedly, causing your mother to sigh.

Namjoon was your best friend and roommate, and while he was definitely still up, you highly doubted it was for your sake. If you knew your best friend, he was sprawled on the couch, his work spread out across the coffee table as one of those old, black and white shows about people living on a prairie played in the background. Your mother didn't need to know that, of course.

"Y/N, don't be ridiculous. It's already dark out, just spend the night." She pleaded.

"Night, Junny." You ignored her, turning towards your brother with a smile.

"Night!"

As you pushed past your parents and made your way out of the room, you could hear as they began to whisper to each other. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. 

You always hated it when they did that. As if you weren’t adult enough to join in on conversations that were obviously about you. It was if this whole world was constantly shouting a million and one rules at you – don’t do that, don’t question this, don’t go here – but the second you asked for an explanation as to why you should listen, all the yelling fell to a whisper, as if to let you know that words were being said but that you were purposely excluded from that knowledge.

That thought weighed heavily on your mind as you reached the deadbolted front door. The sound of you prying it’s five locks open hid the approaching footsteps of your father walking up behind you.

"Y/N."

The pop of the final lock accompanied your silent sigh, turning to face your awaiting parent.

"Yeah?"

"Your mother and I want you to take the bus home tonight. We know you usually take that shortcut by the factory plant because it's quicker but that area isn't safe. Especially not now with the recent sighting."

"Sure." You lied, simply because you knew it was what he would want to hear.

"And tie your hair up before you go out. It gives you a–"

"–maximum visual field, yeah I know. Teachers have been drilling that into us since elementary school, dad." You countered easily.

Your father nodded back at you.

"And Y/N," he continued, "she's harsh but... your mother is right when she says there is a lot of things you don't know."

You bit down on the inside of your cheek, unsure of what to reply. Suddenly, your father's hand found your cheek, cupping your face affectionately as he silently thought something over.

"There's something I want to give you before you go. Wait right here."

Your eyebrows arched in surprise as he left you suddenly, returning shortly with a small, folded blanket in his hands.

"If anything – anyone – threatens you, you protect yourself. Okay?" He spoke solemnly, starting to unwrap the bundle of fabric.

"Yeah, of course." You nodded, mildly confused.

Your face fell as the dull silver of a revolver revealed itself as the object hidden in between the blanket. You always knew your father kept a decent amount of self-defense weapons in the house, a consequence of his involvement during the Great Outbreak, but this was the first time he had ever shown you one. The only other time you had come into contact with one was an accident, stumbling upon a gun mounted under your father's desk during a juvenile game of hide-and-seek. Perhaps in another life, you would have been disturbed by the discovery, but all children of the apocalypse such as yourself were taught about guns and weapon safety by the time they had learned to count so you weren't particularly fazed.

“Just in case.” Your father pulled you from your memories, his lips pressed tight.

You eyed the deadly weapon for a moment, your stomach churning at the idea of ever having to fire such a device. Hesitantly, you grabbed it, hand wobbling slightly at the newfound weight. Wordlessly, you unzipped your backpack and hid the gun away, tucking the three bullets that laid beside it into your front pocket.

You forced the sides of your mouth to tilt up disingenuously, offering him a somber word of gratitude before slipping out of the house with a faint goodbye.

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Kicking at a piece of rubber, you watched as it skipped ahead, tumbling down the cracked cement of the road you traveled on. Your hair swayed behind you as you walked; you had thrown it up, not solely because of your father’s warning but simply because it felt strange not to. Like putting sneakers on without socks. In this world, stepping outside meant being vigilant and on high alert.

Naturally, you had disregarded your parents’ wish for you to take the bus home. Something that had emerged along the chaos and fear that probably wasn't initially considered was the sudden need for safe transportation. Transport industries quickly used this to their advantage, the costs of public and private transportation skyrocketing tenfold as a result. While most deemed it a necessary evil, you refused to pay for a twenty-dollar bus ride that would only take you ten minutes on foot.

And it wasn’t as if the area you were passing through was particularly unsafe. It was an industrial zone, empty and abandoned for as long as you could remember. During the peak of the apocalypse, factories and warehouses like the ones you were currently passing got raided for supplies. It wasn’t nearly as awful as it was made out to be, productivity had ceased anyway. Workers were too busy preparing themselves and their families against the army of undead to worry about showing up to work on time.

Crash!

Your stride came to a halt, one of your bag straps falling off your shoulder as you quickly whirled around to face where the loud sound had come from.

Brows furrowed, you peered through the holes in the wire fence that separated you and the property. You managed to make out a silhouette by the corner of a busted down door.

“Hello?” You called out warily.

The shadow quickly darted from view.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be there.”

Letting your gaze return back to the fence, you found a sizeable hole not too far off from where you stood. More telling than the hole, however, were the two torn up candy wrappers lying underneath it. All at once, you realized what exactly you were dealing with.

Runaway teens were an increasing problem in your city; many of them seemingly fed up with the strict rules and regulations that arose as a consequence of the Great Outbreak. As much as you sympathized with them, a dirty abandoned factory was no place for a child.

You slipped past the fence, mind made up to get whoever was inside out and back to safety. Trudging your way through the rubble and waste, you headed towards the building’s entrance, noting the trail of candy wrappers that lead to it.

Peering inside the building, you were met with a slow-moving cloud of dust that had yet to settle down– it appeared as if a part of the ceiling had collapsed which explained the loud noise you heard earlier.

“You can come out, okay? You’re not in any trouble, I promise.”

It was dark inside, the only light source coming from the street lamps that lined the road you once stood on, their cold luminescence pushing through the broken shards of the factory’s windows.

You pushed further into the ill-lit building. There were all sorts of machines and garbage inside; the tile floor was layered with dirt, clearly accumulated through the years of trespassers coming in and out.

Spotting another silver candy wrapper, you headed down a hallway, pushing past a heavy steel door.

You let yourself take a moment to take in the room ahead of you. It must have been the more corporate side of the company, you deducted, as rows of filing cabinets lined the room, papers and ransacked charts spread across the floor. There was an eeriness to the building, you quickly realized. It was somewhat unsettling feeling to see something that once must have been the pinnacle of structure and organization in such an utter state of chaos. The room was quiet enough that if you just focused hard enough, you could imagine what it once looked like, all clean and pristine as employees walked through and went about their day.

You pushed down your uneasiness, eyes straining to guide you through the windowless room.

A rustle of fabric caught your attention and you quickly rounded about a large shelf in order to reach the child.

“Are you hurt? I heard those ceiling tiles fall–”

You let your words fall flat.

A tall silhouette stood against the wall, nothing like the stature of a small adolescent like you had been anticipating. The hair on your body rose as the sound of ragged, strained breaths fell from the dark figure ahead of you.

It took a step forward, body swaying unnaturally.

Every hair on your body stood on end, jaw falling slack as reality dawned on you.

You could hear the voice of your elementary school teacher in your head suddenly, remembering the lecture she had given you and your rowdy class on what to do in case of a zombie attack. How little attention you had paid back then, giggling over something Namjoon had whispered in your ear. Yet as you stood there in front of the exact thing you had been taught to fear, you could recall every single word, playing over in your head like a mantra stuck on loop.

Don’t make any sudden noises.

It was as if every nerve ending in your body grew cold, your feet felt impossibly heavy as fear paralyzed you, watching with wide eyes as the dark figure crept closer and closer.

Look for the nearest exit.

A panicked exhale fell from you as it's dull eyes locked onto yours. The shadow covered creature let out a noise of its own: deep, guttural and utterly inhuman.

And run.

You nearly lost your footing as you launched yourself into a sprint, not even thinking to head back the way you came in, mind blinded with white-hot panic. The cracked walls of the building echoed your frenzied steps, like a cruel game of hide-and-seek where no matter where you hid, you would be found.

Shoving past a stack of empty cardboard boxes, you found yourself in an unfamiliar storage room. Scanning the room hurriedly, your eyes fell onto a door on the other side and you quickly made your way over to it.

"Dammit!" You seethed, yanking at the handle as you realized the door you had reached was locked.

Jaw clenched, you turned back around to exit the room when your father’s words unexpectedly crossed your mind.

"If anything – anyone – threatens you, you protect yourself. Okay?"

And so you reached over a shoulder for your bag, eyes flicking between it and the room ahead of you as you picked yourself back up into a jog.

Tugging the zipper aside, you cursed at the jumbled sight of your bag’s contents. You had placed the gun on top but it must have sunk to the bottom during your travels.

You stuck your hand in further, looking to feel the cool metal brush against your fingertips.

Then, everything went dark, a low ringing finding your ears as you stumbled back, completely thrown off balance. You let out a yelp of pain and clutched your head, vision blurry and doubled.

You hissed, disoriented and confused as you had run headfirst into a large filing cabinet, too occupied with finding the gun to pay attention to where you were running. You struggled to keep yourself on solid ground, too ailed to notice the way that very cabinet had lost its footing and now teetered dangerously, seconds from crashing down onto you.

Suddenly, something seized both your arms, yanking you back as the heavy hunk of metal came crashing onto the ground.

You winced at the sound, before realizing that you had been grabbed by someone. One panicked glance over your shoulder confirmed your fears and a scream ripped through you, thrashing in the zombie's grip. To your surprise, you were released immediately, falling to your knees momentarily as you scrambled forward and away from your captor. Your escape was halted by a wall, however, forced to stop and press your back to it, eyes wide as you kept them locked on the zombie boy across from you.

His skin was a pale-ish blue, unlike any color you had seen before, his hair coarse and unkempt, nearly shielding his eyes from view. But still, you saw them: peering through his dark strands and guarded by the bruises that stained the skin around them as if he hadn't slept in ages. Shallow breaths fell through his pale lips, tinted purple from the lack of blood running through him.

“You just... You just saved me.” You marveled.

The zombie stood in front of you wordlessly, shoulders slumped forwards as his head tilted.

You knew there was a high chance he had no clue what you were saying, but frankly, you were too stunned to care. Here you were, somewhere in an abandoned factory in the middle of the night accompanied by the very thing you were raised to fear... and he had pulled you away from a falling metal cabinet.

You held his eyes. They were glossy and unmoving– lifeless almost. You shook your head; your heart had settled back into its chest, your breathing finally evening out. What coursed through you was no longer dread but an insatiable need to understand.

What did he want?

Why would he save you?

How did he get here?

The zombie let out a grunt suddenly as if it was meant as a goodbye before he turned around, beginning to leave.

“Wait!” You called out after him, putting your existential crisis on pause.

To your surprise, he turned back around immediately, facing you with unmistakable attentiveness. Did he... understand you?

“You… Today on the news... That was your family, wasn’t it?" You guessed, purely on a whim.

The zombie said nothing but you thought you saw a wave of something akin to melancholy wash over his face. No words were exchanged but your gut told you that you were right nonetheless.

“They'll be looking for you. You’ll be caught if you stay here.” You continued, swallowing down your nerves. You still weren't sure if the zombie boy could even understand you after all.

Placing a hand against the paint chipped wall, you helped yourself back up, inhaling sharply as your head throbbed. You took a cautious step toward him, hands trembling but stance steadfast.

Extending your palm forward, you offered your hand towards him, newfound determination coursing through you as the zombie boy's eyes followed the gesture curiously.

“You saved my life." You acknowledged with a nod. "Now let me save yours.”

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"Shh! Quietly, come in." You whispered, gesturing for the hoodied zombie to follow you into your apartment.

This zombie, as you had come to find out, was particularly agreeable. While he didn't seem to actually understand your language per se, he did seem to respond particularly well to gestures and body language, which was how you had somehow managed to wrangle him into your apartment, his dirty red hoodie thrown over his head to cover his face in case you ran into another human.

The undead man's eyes grew wide, taking in the inside space of your apartment with wonder. You could only imagine it must have been an upgrade from the gloomy factory he had been hiding out in. Reaching the kitchen, you froze at the sound of the TV on and playing from your living room.

Shit. Namjoon.

"Y/N, is that you?" Your roommate called out from the couch, hearing the shuffle of your steps.

You cursed internally. On your way home, you hadn't given much thought to exactly how you were going to hide your new zombie friend from your living one. You weren't thinking much at all honestly, too concerned with getting home unseen to worry about anything else.

Turning towards the zombie boy, you extended your hand in front of you in a gesture that ordered him to stay put. He stared at it, eyebrows moving towards one another.

"Stay." You directed quietly, before turning the other way.

"Yeah." You called out, placing your bag on your kitchen counter before heading towards the living room.

"Thought you were spending the night at your family's place?" Namjoon pondered, turning over to look at you as you entered the space.

"Changed my mind." You shrugged, trying your hardest to appear nonchalant, despite the way your heart clamored against your chest. "Didn't think you'd be up this late."

Your bespeckled best friend let out a sigh, dropping whatever file he was studying back onto the coffee table.

"Yeah, I guess I lost track of the time." He mused, glancing at his wristwatch. You nodded nervously, opening your mouth to suggest that perhaps he should head to bed now when Namjoon cut you off suddenly.

“Holy fuck!” He shot up from his seat, eyes set behind you as a terrified expression fell over him. You whipped around, heart falling into your ass.

Oh shit.

"No! Bad zombie! I told you to stay!" You scolded him. He was now standing behind you, having had abandoned his post in the kitchen. He looked as unbothered as ever, his hands tucked into his hoodie as he casually looked the two humans over.

"What the fuck?!" Namjoon cried.

“I can explain.” You turned towards the panicking boy calmly.

Immediately, Namjoon jumped into action, scrambling to crouch behind the couch as if to put a physical barrier between him and the zombie.

"You– Y/N, tell me that's just a guy wearing zombie makeup. Tell me that is not a zombie standing in our living room. Say sike right fucking now!”  Namjoon squawked, his voice pitched high.

You grimaced, looking over at the indifferent zombie before looking back at your roommate.

“Just hear me out for one second–”

“Are you insane?!" Namjoon shrieked, standing up in anger before realizing he had exposed himself and quickly ducking back down. "I’m not gonna listen to you! You brought a zombie into our house– oh god. He bit you, didn't he? You're probably turning as we speak!”

You rolled your eyes, realizing that Namjoon wasn't calming down anytime soon.

“My best friend is a zombie... this is like some horrible Disney Channel movie coming to life!” He rambled on nervously, running a hand through his hair in despair.

“For fuck’s sake Namjoon, I’m not a zombie! Besides, you know getting bit doesn't turn people– that was disproved ages ago.” You scoffed, glancing over at the zombie man who still seemed uninterested despite the scene your best friend was making.

“Well excuse me if I don’t have the logistics of zombie contagion down! It doesn't change the fact that you brought a flesh-eating monster into our home, you psychopath!”

You frowned at your best friend’s tone.

“If he was a flesh-eating monster, then wouldn’t we be dead by now?” You stated matter-of-factly, hand on your hip.

“Exactly— wait.” Namjoon blinked, poking his head out from behind the couch. He frowned, glancing over at the zombie. “Hold on a minute. Why is he just standing there?"

Hesitantly, your best friend stood up from the couch altogether, "I thought zombies jumped at the chance of eating people?”

“Yes, well, for whatever reason, this one doesn’t.” You told him with a shrug. You had thought the same thing when you first came across your new undead friend.

You watched as the familiar flame of curiosity spark behind Namjoon’s eyes. Slowly, he inched his way over to the two of you, hands in front of him as if to shield himself until he was just inches away from the resurrected man.

For a few moments, it was silent, your best friend and the zombie running their eyes over one another as they each decided what to make of each other.

To your surprise, Namjoon's hand reached over and positioned itself onto the zombie's neck, pointer and middle finger pulled together as he checked for a pulse.

“Fascinating…” Namjoon murmured inquisitively as he concluded that the stranger was indeed dead.

Your shoulders, which had been locked up tensely as the two men interacted, dropped immediately, realizing that Namjoon's initial panic had subsided and been replaced with interest. It was in his nature to be fascinated with the things that scared and repulsed most, of course. He was studying to become a biomedical scientist after all.

Despite his cowardliness, Namjoon was actually quite fearless when it came to his work; he was extremely intelligent and had a natural knack for research and investigative methods. You could only hope that the prospect of having a real-life zombie to study from would outweigh any moral duty he felt to report you to the police.

“You know how illegal this is right?” He said sternly, much calmer than he initially was.

"He saved my life, Joon." You explained. "I don't know why but... I couldn't just leave him behind. Especially not with the DEAD Team on high alert with the recent sightings. They'd kill him if they found him."

Namjoon turned away from the zombie, sighing as he met your eyes.

"Well... maybe they should."

You frowned, "Joon–"

"I mean think about what it stands for in the first place: Designated Eradication And Decimation. An entire team was put together solely to get rid of these guys. Surely, there’s a reason why. The government wouldn't put a group together like that if zombies didn't pose a threat to humankind, right?”

Your brows furrowed, finding a fair point in Namjoon's words. Yet, as you turned to look at the zombie and found him placidly watching the television, you couldn’t find it within yourself to agree.

Suddenly, you were in front of your best friend, taking his hands into yours as you put on a sorrowful expression.

"Please don't turn him in!" You begged, your bottom lip jutting out. "I know what I'm asking is a lot but I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important. There’s no one else in this world I could trust to help me with this.”

Namjoon's eyes went wide, yanking his hands from between yours. He twisted his head away from your pleading eyes, cheeks tinted pink.

"Ah, jeez, Y/N. Turning him would mean turning you in for housing him in the first place. Just because you don't give a shit about your wellbeing, doesn't mean I don't. God, you really are an idiot."

You let out a grateful squeal, wrapping your arms around your best friend, "Thank you, thank you! I knew I could always count on you."

The scientist froze in your embrace before letting out a sigh, patting your back begrudgingly as he muttered words of dismissal, neither you nor him noticing the way the zombie was now watching you two in interest, a curious expression on his face.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

"It's okay... It's just water. It won't hurt you." You promised, hand gesturing towards you as you urged the zombie man to come closer.

You were standing in the shower, clothes dampening as the running water hit your body. Namjoon was stood with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the bathroom's door frame. He had insisted on standing guard in case the walker suddenly decided that he was, in fact, hungry and went ahead and tried to have you for dinner.

The zombie watched dubiously as you beckoned him forward but if he had objections he didn't bother to voice them as he stepped into the shower after you.

"Good. Look, that feels nice, doesn't it?" You reasoned, leading his hand under the stream of water. The unnamed zombie watched as his hand grew blurry, the running water bouncing against it. The dirt that clung to his skin slowly dissipated, falling onto the ceramic tub and running down the drain.

Placing a hand against the shower wall, you maneuvered yourself around him so that he could stand under the showerhead. The zombie hardly noticed the swap in positions, however, too enthralled with the feeling of water against his hand.

"Here, now why don't you try standing under it–" You had placed your hands against his back, nudging him closer to the stream when he let out a noise of panic, whirling around to rush over to the opposite side of the shower, pressing you back into the shower wall in the process.

"Y/N!" Namjoon called out, moving forward.

"I'm okay!" You reassured immediately, pausing your best friend's motions. The dead man had both hands held against the wall, trapping you on either side.

Bringing your hands up, you placed them onto his chest, trying your hardest to ignore how empty it felt. Pushing him back, you let out a breath. Truth be told, his quick actions had startled you. As much as you wanted to believe that he was different, the truth was that you didn't know for certain if he wasn't everything the media told you he was. 

He was looking down at you, uncertainly laced across his face.

It was the first time you had gotten a chance to truly look at him this close. From here, it was easy to see how he was once human. He had pretty features– unquestionably, he would have been an attractive man when he was alive.

Something you hadn’t noticed before were the faint, blue veins that crawled up his neck and cheeks; markers of the Immortous drug that once ran through his bloodstream. Taking note of the dried patch of blood on his cheek, you pulled your wet sleeve over your hand before reaching up to gently rub against his stained skin.

"I promise I'm not going to hurt you. I’m just trying to clean you up, okay?" You assured him with an encouraging nod.

To your surprise, the hand that had been stroking his cheek was suddenly stilled, his large palm loosely covering yours. He kept it there, not as to tell you to stop but as if to show his gratitude– or at least that was what you told yourself. It was a simple gesture, but it gave you pause before a soft smile fell over you.

Leading him back, the two of you eventually found the water that rained down from the large shower head. You watched as the zombie flinched, face scrunching up as the water began to fall down the back of his head.

"Come help me get his clothes off." You called to Namjoon, and so the undressing began.

The zombie stood silently as he was left in nothing but his jeans, not understanding what was being said around him, but knowing that he was not in danger here. The taller of his two new companions, the man, rubbed a strange substance into his uncombed hair as you rubbed as his arms, a frothy, pleasant smelling matter coating his skin.

Water dripped from his bangs and ran down his face, some of it seeping into his eyes. It stung them slightly, and the zombie wondered if whatever the tall man had put into his hair was to blame. He thought to close his eyes to put a stop to the irritation but for whatever reason, he opted to keep them open for a bit longer just so he could watch you. Your hair was weighed down with the water that was bouncing off of him and onto you, face set seriously as you focused on whatever it was you were doing.

Your hands were warm, much like the water raining down his back, but still different somehow. They were more firm, and somehow more soothing. You were washing at his chest when you finally took notice of your spectator, feeling the zombie's eyes on you. Peering up at him, you laughed nervously, flashing him a small grin.

No, he decided. 

He didn’t want to close his eyes.

[itsmelaurel]

Begin Again

Summary: When your best friends move away for college, you think life is officially over. However, you find yourself making new friends including the blonde surfer from the other side of the island.

Story Notes: Everyone’s parents don’t suck. Sarah and Topper never happened.

Author Notes: This story is fully completed, but I’m not sure what my upload schedule will be yet. Also, I’m new to tumblr and y/n pov. So go easy on me please.

—————————————————

one.

When Sarah Cameron started dating John B. Routledge, you thought she had lost her mind. You didn’t actually care who she dated, but she made it very clear after Kiara left our friend group that she would never associate with the pogues in any capacity for the rest of her life. So, it came as quite a shock when she announced she was going on a date with John B at the beginning of summer.

Now, you were very thankful your best friend had started dating the pogue.

Summer was officially over and your other three best friends were leaving the island. Rafe, Topper and Kelce were all off to university on the mainland leaving you and Sarah behind for senior year of high school. At first you ultimately decided to never think about the boys moving away. Then when summer started it became harder to ignore. It felt like it was the only thing the boys could talk about all the time. While you were trying to make memories with them, they were focused on preparing for new ones that didn’t involve you.

When that realization hit, you ended up crying yourself to sleep that night and staying in bed the half of the weekend. You ignored every phone call and text you received hoping the less you saw their names the less it would hurt. It didn’t work, but thankfully your mom forced you to talk about it. She reminded you that it was necessary for our lives to continue moving forward and it was your job as a friend to be supportive no matter what. They couldn’t stay in Figure 8 just for you.

So, you made it your mission to be the best friend you could be the rest of the summer. That seemed to make time fly by and before you knew it it was time for their moving weekend.

Kelce was the first to leave on that Friday. His parents were making a weekend trip out of it and stopping to see his grandparents before moving him into the dorm. He came over that week and your mom made his favorite meal. Your mom was fighting back tears just as much as you were when he said his goodbyes.

“I’m not moving across the country, you know? I’m literally going to be two hours away.” He said sarcastically as you hugged him on the front porch.

“You could be moving to the cut and I would still be this sad.” You pulled away from him. He rolled his eyes in response, but he knew it was true.

Topper left Saturday morning. He invited you over to dinner that Friday night. His mom ended up crying throughout most of the meal, which resulted in you and him hiding out in his room the remainder of the night. The once boyish room that held so many memories now looked so empty.

“Hey, I almost forgot. I have something for you.” Topper said while climbing off the bed and moving towards his closet. He grabbed a large light pink gift bag and sat it down in front of you on the bed.

“Shouldn’t I be the one giving you a gift?” You furrowed your brows at the blonde boy.

“It’s not so much a gift as a- well, just open it.” He eyed you then the gift bag, nervously rubbing his hands down his shorts before clasping them together.

You opened the bag, pulling out the paper before letting your hand reach around for whatever was inside. When your fingertips met soft fabric, you immediately knew what it was without having to see it.

“This is your favorite sweatshirt.” You say softly as you pull the gray fabric out of the bag.

“I know and I know how much you love it. I wanted you to- I don’t know, I-” a light pink hue rose up to his cheeks as he became tongue tied. He took a deep breath and began again.

“I wanted you to physically have something that reminded you of me.” He got out before swinging his eyes to yours. The emotion swimming around in his eyes was too much for your heart, so you let your eyes drop to the sweatshirt in your lap.

“Thank you, Top. I love it.” You leaned forward wrapping him up in a hug and trying your hardest to swallow your own emotions that were trying to escape.

Rafe was the last one to leave that Sunday. You had spent Saturday at his house swimming with him, Sarah and Wheezie. After playing every pool game imaginable, you and him had snuck off to the pool house to light one up. He never let his eyes off of you as you passed the blunt back and forth.

“Maybe you can come up for a home game?” His voice seemed hopeful as you leaned back on the bed.

“Maybe, but where would I stay?” You ask like there isn’t an obvious answer.

“My bed.” He answered shyly. It wouldn’t be the first time you shared a bed with Rafe or any of the guys for that matter, but that wasn’t in a dorm at college.

“Y/n, your parents are here for dinner and dad needs your help with the grill Rafe.” Wheezie’s voice on the other side of the door has you both sitting up in a panic. Rafe quickly puts the blunt out while you grab the eye drops from the nightstand. Both laughing at almost getting caught.

That Sunday, you didn’t plan on getting out of bed. Your mom brought breakfast to you, staying to make sure you ate everything. After, your dad came in to watch the sports center top 10 with you. It was something you usually did down stairs in the living room, but he plopped down on your bed while turning on the tv like it was normal. When it was over, a soft knock on your bedroom door had your dad jumping up to let whoever it was in. Sarah waltzed in, high-fiving your dad as she passed him before jumping up on your bed.

“You look like shit.” Her eyes scan your face.

“Fuck off, I’m in mourning.” You say with an eye roll causing the blonde to laugh.

“We are not mourning those assholes-”

“Hey!” You wrinkle your nose at her words, still sensitive to your best friends moving away.

“Sorry sorry, we aren’t mourning those lovely boys. Better?”

“Better.”

“Okay, now get up. We have plans.” She hopped off your bed, walking over to your swimsuit drawer and digging through it.

“I’m not going anywhere especially when you said I look like shit.” You huff and raise an eyebrow at her.

“Y/n, you literally could be wearing garbage from the marsh and would still be the prettiest girl on the banks.” Sarah said truthfully as she turned around to wink at you. “But seriously, get up. Our ride will be here in like ten minutes.”

“What’s the plans?” You question making no move to get out of bed. Sarah didn’t respond as she throws a bikini at you before moving to your bathroom for a beach towel. You stare at her while she puts the towel on the bed next to your bikini. She avoids eye contact, eyes flicking around the room as you stare her down.

“Sarah”

“Ugh, fine! The pogues are picking us up at your dock. We’re going out on the boat.” She throws her hands up as if she is totally over this argument that hasn’t even started yet.

“What! No way. Those guys hate me.” You squeak out.

“They don’t hate you.”

“Yeah, fucking right.” Shaking your head no you pull the covers back over your body.

“They don’t! They hate Rafe, Kelce and Topper. They absolutely don’t hate you.” She yanks your covers off and pulls on your hand to get you out of bed. “Well, they may hate you if you aren’t ready in the next five minutes.”

After much convincing and running around getting ready, both of you stand on your dock waiting for the pogues to arrive. Sarah is double checking your bags to make sure everything y’all will need is in there.

“Nothing like getting out to the middle of the water and not having something.” She says like it is a life lesson she learned the hard way.

After a couple more minutes, a boat with all the pogues on it comes into view. You get nervous all the sudden, wondering how much Sarah will hate you if you throw out an excuse and cancel on her. The pogues may not hate you, but they hate your best friends.

Your mind immediately wanders to the three of them. A snort escapes as you can only imagine their reaction to you hanging out with their island enemies.

A sudden feeling of betrayal hits you, but then Sarah’s hand grabs yours. She gives it a gentle squeeze and effectively brings you out of your thoughts. Her smile tells you that she knows where your head is.

“Well, if it isn’t the prettiest kooks I ever did see.” JJ Maybanks wiggles his eyebrows at you as the boat pulls up to your dock. He reaches a hand out to help you aboard and you take it willingly. John B helps Sarah and then you’re off without even completely stopping.

You drop your stuff down near the back of the boat and sit next to Pope and Kiara.

“Are you a beer or whiteclaw kind of girl?” Pope asks as he opens the cooler to show you the selection of drinks.

“I’ll take a beer.” He hands you one before throwing Sarah a whiteclaw.

“Damn” JJ says while handing Pope a ten dollar bill.

“He was positive you were a whiteclaw girl.” Pope says with a shrug while pocketing the money.

“I’d much rather have tequila than either.” You say while looking over at JJ. He smirks as if he can see just how wild you really are on the inside.

“Now that’s my kind of girl.” Kiara leans over and clinks her can against yours. Her smile makes you relax a little. Maybe they really don’t hate you.

The day ends up being one of the best days. It was filled with so much laughter and goofiness. The way the pogues banter with each other had you missing your friends at one point, but then JJ threw his arms around you and jumped into the water. All sadness gone in seconds.

None of them bring up Rafe, Topper or Kelce which surprises you, but you’re grateful for.

By the time you get back to your dock, everyone except John B is tipsy. Kie, which she begged you to call her, is making plans with you and Sarah for the following week. Pope and JJ are arguing about who the best X-Men character is while John B stops the boat.

“Welp, this is me.” You say before everyone is shuffling around to give you a hug goodbye like you’ve been in this group forever. JJ helps you out of the boat and onto the dock again, his rough fingertips skimming over the back of your hand.

“It’s been a pleasure to have the kook princess grace us with her presence today.” JJ puts on a fake British accent and bows. You giggle as you curtsy back.

When you get inside, your mom tells you to go wash up and get ready for dinner. You throw your things down hazardously before jumping in the shower. When you’re done, you head back into your room to get dressed when you spot something light up on the side of your bed.

Fuck, is all you think when you realize you left your phone at home all day. You weren’t exactly attached to your phone, but you’ve never not taken it with you before. If you weren’t with Kelce, Topper and Rafe, the four of you had a very active group chat going. It had included Sarah at first, but last year she wouldn’t stop sending pictures of sloths which ultimately got her muted. When she started dating John B it got her permanently banned. Not that she cared anyways.

There are several missed messages and phone calls. You click on the group chat message first to see what you missed. A picture pops up of the three of them with another guy, presumably their new roommate Parker. Your heart sinks a little as you look at their smiling faces.

You send the heart emoji and move onto the rest of your messages. Before you have a chance to read any of them, your phone starts ringing.

Topper FaceTime

You let it ring for a second as you contemplate what to do. Honestly, the petty side of you doesn’t want to hear about how awesome their dorm is. Plus, you don’t want to tell them where you were all day either. So, you decide it’s best to just let it ring out.

As you’re getting dressed, your phone beeps indicating a new message. You roll your eyes knowing it’s most likely one of the guys, but you are pleasantly surprised when it isn’t.

Unknown: hey its jj. wanna go to the beach tomorrow?

Y/n: how’d you get my number?

JJ: i wouldn’t let sarah get off the boat until she gave it to me

His response makes you giggle.

Y/n: why doesn’t that surprise me?

Y/n: of course I’d love to go to the beach.

JJ: awesome I’ll pick you up at 10

“Y/n, dinner is ready!” Your mom shouts from downstairs.

“Coming!” You shout back before quickly sending a text to Topper saying you will call him back later.

Your mom and dad are already sitting at the table when you get downstairs.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” You respond as you slide into your designated seat. It’s quiet as you let your eyes travel over the food your mom made. When you look up, your mom and dad are both looking at you with goofy smiles on their faces.

“What?” You question as you feel your face to see if something is on it.

“Oh, nothing.” Your dad says in singsong before digging into his food. Your eyes swing over to your mom for a clue at what has them so happy. She just smiles and shrugs her shoulders before taking a sip of her wine.

“Did you have a good day?” Your dad questions in between bites.

A goofy smile spreads across your face “I did”

“And you thought your life was over just this morning.” Your mom says with one of those I told you everything was going to be okay grins while your dad quirks an eyebrow.

For once, you’re happy to admit that your parents were absolutely right. You survived the day thanks to Sarah and new friends.

Maybe this year wasn’t going to be so bad.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Empires on the Horizon XIV

Jason is a CEO: Part XIV

masterlist for other parts, more jercy, bad headcanons, and an abundance of crackships

SURPRISE!!! i finally got my laptop back and thankfully they didn’t have to wipe anything so i still had all my work! Between you and me i was more worried about all my fanfics than my uni work...... But I’ve learned my lesson. Do everything on google docs now!! Anyway this is a Percy POV and i hope you enjoy because i’ve missed this little universe more than you could possibly know and we’re finally (only fourteen chapters later) getting to the jercy part of this fic?! LOL it’s been wild.

i know i’m releasing a ton of fanfics at the moment so i hope you guys don’t feel overwhelmed. You know i adore your comments and thoughts but please don’t feel pressured to read all the fics i’m posting. I’ve just had a lot of time in the last weeks so it’s been easier to create. Please take care  of yourself, i love you very much and i hope you have a magical holiday season!

Percy Jackson stretched his legs out in front of him and draped a blanket over them. There were few things he indulged in, but a good plane seat was one of them. He was spoilt for it but having the space to lay his unreasonably tall body down for eight hours seemed like a worthy investment. The announcements that continuously filtered through the crackly speakers were background noise as the bustle of people getting to their seats flowed throughout the cabins. He stared out his little window at the neon-jacketed guides and airport officials directing people to wherever they needed to be. He loved watching people just do things. There was something calming about knowing others weren’t interested in him in any way. That people got on with their lives despite the turmoil nobody knew about.

A flight attendant stopped next to him with a polite smile, “Champagne sir?”

“No thank you, a water please. Too early for alcohol.” He grimaced.

Mirth danced in her eyes as she glanced up at the rest of the passengers, some dangling flutes between their fingers. “Absolutely sir, anything else?”

He shook his head, before leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes. His pre-flight ritual, which consisted of him snuggling as comfortably as possible it his seat and trying to fall asleep, was already behind. The presence of a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed CEO taking up the scattered pieces of his mind. It was crazy to think they had met almost a year ago, crazier still to think that about how much they had changed in that time. Percy at least felt like a completely different person to the one who had stepped off a plane from Hawaii all those months ago and attended his alma mater’s dinner. Although the university had surprised them with plaques honouring their contributions, it was seeing Jason Grace, learning about him that felt like the real reward. Hell, he was only half joking when he said he’d marry the guy the next Tuesday.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts. We will be taking off shortly. In the meantime please turn your attention to the screens in front of you for a video detailing the safety measures you will need to know while aboard this flight.”

He blinked back into the world and turned half his attention to the screen and the other half to locating the blonde he couldn’t seem to keep away from. He knew the safety briefings by heart, but he always felt bad for not paying attention. Someone worked hard to make those. He didn’t spot Jason in the two minutes the video played and then it was too late because the plane gave a low rumble and suddenly, they were lurching into motion. His heart climbed to his throat and he gripped his fingers underneath the blanket.

“Okay Percy,” He mouthed to himself, “You can do this. It’s at most fifteen minutes of instability and then you’ll be up in the air and you won’t even feel it.”

“Just fifteen minutes.” He kept repeating, taking deep shaky breaths. “Fifteen minutes.”

The plane jaggered down the runway, slow enough that he could still read the road signs indicating altitudes and compass directions and all sorts of fun information he didn’t care about. He felt the huge machine turn into the long stretch of tar that led them to the sky and his stomach clenched painfully. This was always the worst part. Take off. It felt like his entire body flew off with the plane while he stuck to the ground, superglue cementing him to the floor with no escape. He didn’t feel free. He felt torn.

The plane gave a horrible lurch and then it was screaming down the runway, grass and yellow lines blurring past them. They were going so fast he’s sure they’d break the sound barrier. He squeezed his eyes shut. Knuckles white as he twisted his hands together. The plan flew down the road and into the sky. His whole body felt suspended in space. He wanted to come down. He didn’t want to be here. Even with his eyes closed he could feel how high they were. He hated it.

Slowly, the plane started to level out until he felt his body realign: feet under him, hands beside him, head above him. He opened his eyes, spots dancing in his vision as they got used to the light once more. The seatbelt sign dinged above him, and a series of clicks followed. People got up to use the bathroom and grab things from the overhead compartments. He wasn’t going to get up until he was out of this plane. So he shoved his headphones over his ears and pressed play.

I will always love you how I do

Let go of a prayer for you

Just a sweet word

He gazed out the window, clouds close enough to whisper to, and his lips pulled up in a soft smile. The sky was beautiful. It just sucked that they had to get into a death trap to get to it. With his ocean eyes pinned to the balls of cotton hanging in the blue expanse his mind drifted. Reyna. He blinked. It was almost shameful how little he had thought of her since their breakup considering their year together. She had taught him tai quan do and baked him blueberry tarts. They had escaped to a little bubble in the forest and watched the leaves turn brown as they tumbled in bed. He knew she tapped her right foot when she was annoyed but her left fingers danced when she was excited. He knew she liked her eggs fried hard because she didn’t have time for sloppy yolk, but she liked them scrambled soft because it meant a richer croissant. But despite this she did not light his soul on fire. And he did not light hers either. They were merely striking matches without wood to burn. He heaved a sigh as he watched the threads of his relationship flutter before his eyes and fell asleep to them disappearing in gold strands leaking into the clouds. He succumbed to the bright sun and the soft warmth of memories and he didn’t wake until a loud announcement gave the signal that they were landing.

It was over so fast he didn’t have time to panic and he was grateful. Finally he was collecting his bags and walking out. A driver with his surname scribbled on a plaque stood front and center and with a quick flash of his ID and a hello they were piling into the car. He didn’t get a chance to see the blonde beauty, but the island was small and time was a plenty. They would find each other again.

“To the hotel sir?”

“Yes Luca, and then please stick around for half an hour. It’s just a quick freshen before I go to work. We have a lab meeting.”

The man nodded and then focused on the busy Italian streets they were navigating. He took in the colours and sounds as they whizzed by. It felt like a different universe. People were loud and excited and full of life and the little markets seemed to pull energy from the sun and direct it into joy. He wanted to tell Luca, to pull over, screw work, and take in the beauty of this little section of the world. But his phone buzzed in his pocket and he knew with a disappointed sinking in his chest that adventure would have to wait.

“Hello Percy,” Rachel Elizabeth Dare bubbled, ‘I assume you’ve arrived?”

“Yes Rach,” He sighed but amusement caught between his lips, “Have you got news for me?”

“No,” She sounded suspicious, “Why would I have news for you?”

“Because you only track my exact times when you want something but you’re too scared to ask me so you wait till I’m halfway across the country before asking.” He wanted to laugh as she made an indignant sound.

“Okay fine,’ She grumbled, “I wanted to know if I could close up the scuba for the weekend. I met a girl and i wanted to go out on Friday night with her.”

He couldn’t hold in his laugh any longer, “Of course you can Rachel. But I’m curious to know…” He trailed off.

“Ugh you are impossible.” He could imagine her eye roll so vividly. “It’s Clarisse. The principal from your old school.”

“Well, well, well,” He grinned, “I better be getting premium seats to the wedding.”

“Why does everything always end in weddings for you?” She groaned.

“Scuse me for wanting a happily ever after.” He scrunched his face, “Oh and guess who’s here?”

“Is this a good guess or a bad one?”

“Good.” He smiled, “Very good.”

She gasped, speaker crackling at his ear, “Tell me!”

“Jason Grace.”

“What?” She squealed, “Are you guys going to have hot rebound sex and then realise you like each other more than just casual fuck-buddies and end up getting married and adopting like six children?”

He burst with amusement, “Slow down there Rach. I know I throw around the marriage idea, but kids seem like a big commitment.”

“You right,” She said decidedly, “Kids are a lot of effort. Just get married then. But no eloping!” He pictured the crease in her freckled brows. “I want to be a bridesmaid.”

“Can’t promise anything,” He giggled.

“Perseus Jackson!” She scolded.

“Oof the full name.”

“I will tell your mother and she will kick your ass.”

“Okay, okay,” He laughed, “No eloping. I have to go. But remember to take the keys for the scuba with you. We do not need the fire department breaking the door again.”

She grumbled about hating him and then blew him a kiss and ended the call. With a smile still playing on his lips he thanked Luca and rushed into the hotel. Thankfully the check in was painless and fast and he was stumbling into his room in no time. He barely had time to appreciate the gorgeous floor-to-ceiling windows and the ocean view it laid out before him. He promised himself he would take the time when he got back.

Quickly he hopped into the shower cursing when he realised he’d forgotten to take his socks off. With a horrified shudder he peeled them off and chucked them into the laundry basket, thankful it gets emptied every day. The water beat against his back, fogging up the glass and calming the racing in his veins. He gave himself the luxury of one extra minute to just take a deep breath and screw his head back onto his shoulders and then he jumped out and shoved on a pair of black slacks and a white button down. He didn’t bother to do the top few buttons, figuring he’d have time in the car. Instead he fastened a watch to his wrists, rolled up the sleeves till they sat at his forearms– any attempt to bear the Italian heat– and then he slid his feet into a pair of sleek ankle boots and mussed his damp curls. With half a moments glance at the mirror to make sure his face didn’t have patches of sun-cream and his collar was straight he grabbed his briefcase and walked out.

Glancing at his watch distractedly he rounded the corner, only to bump right into a hard chest.

“Oh,” He frowned, stepping back into a door. “Jason.”

“Hey,” The blonde smiled, “What a coincidence?” He laughed.

“You’re staying here?” It was really starting to feel like the universe was trying to tell him something.

‘Yep,” He gave a shy smile, blue gaze bright. “Guess you’re going to see a lot more of me then you expected huh?”

“I think you may be at more of a disadvantage than me.”

Jason looked at him, eyes dragging from his face down his body and eventually dropping to his shoes. Percy gave an involuntary shiver as the blonde tracked the same slow pace back up. “I think this could be very advantageous.”

“If you don’t stop staring at me like that I’m going to be very late for my meeting.”

He laughed, the previous sultriness giving away to a sparkle and flashing white teeth, “See you around Jackson.” He started walking away.

“Wait!” Percy called, “Date? Tonight? We can explore the city together?”

Jason smiled as bright as diamonds, “Sounds fun. Meet you in the bar at?”

He realised their time depended on when his meeting finished and suddenly, he wanted to cancel the whole thing and start now. ‘Seven thirty?”

“See you there. And have a good meeting.”

The blonde walked away, and Percy felt this time like he was floating away while his body remained superglued to the floor. He wanted to live in this feeling. Because this did not feel like being torn apart. This felt like coming home.

The elevator dinged down the passage and he crashed back to reality. With a string of curse words he raced for it and jumped in just as the doors began to close.

The meeting and subsequent lab tour felt endless and he concentrated on little less than half of what was being said, his mind more interested on the things waiting for him at the hotel, the person. But eventually it was over and him and Luca were cruising towards the Casa de Vita.

“Anything else you need sir?” His driver looked at him from the rear-view mirror as they turned into the hotel road.

“Recommend any good places for a first date?”

“Already met a lady sir?” Luca’s dark eyebrows almost touched his hairline in surprise.

“A man actually.”

The Italian chuckled, nodding his head as if in on some invisible joke, “The Tesora. It is just down the path and near the ocean.”

“Thank you Luca, have a goodnight.”

“And you sir.” Luca winked before peeling out of the entrance and fading into the setting sun.

Percy strolled to his room with a smile on his face, lost in a world full of possibilities. It was unsurprising then that he didn’t see the extra bag against the wall, or the shoes neatly placed by the door that weren’t his.

He took off his watch and undid the few buttons on his shirt, head lost to the glimmer of the ocean. He let his shirt fall open as he slipped off his shoes and walked towards the windows. The view really was spectacular. No matter how much he travelled it always blew his mind the places that existed, that he had yet to learn of. It was irresistible. It was perfect. It didn’t fail to cross his mind that the ocean was the exact same colour as a certain pair of gorgeous blue eyes. He blinked the image away, turning around, and his gaze landed on that exact aquamarine gaze.

“Jason?” He gasped, clutching his chest in surprise. “What are you doing in my room?”

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

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[cpd5021]

Go Forth Slowly - Chapter 5

Two updates in one day? Oops? Or yay! Depending on how you want to look at it.... 

Hailey’s one moment of weakness the night before was making her life living hell this morning. She was so distracted this morning that she was almost late to work, skirting into the bullpen at the last second possible. No one seemed to notice her untimely entrance or her slightly disheveled appearance. Well, no one except Jay. His eyes followed her from the second she walked in and they still lingered on her now that she was seated at her desk. One eyebrow quirked in question but she did her best to blow him off. He let it go and didn’t push the issue, but she didn’t miss his little smirk that flashed across his face just before he looked away. Hailey poured herself into her reports, spending way more time on the little details than she normally would, but needing the distraction from the thoughts racing through her mind. By mid afternoon her eyes were burning from a combination of no sleep and staring at a screen all morning. She leaned back in her chair and let out a yawn, stretching her arms above her head as she did so. When she looked back down, she found Jay’s eyes locked on her with that darkness swirling behind them once again. Hailey’s cheeks burned and she quickly stood from her chair, walking as slowly as her body would let her towards the break room despite wanting to run from the room. She pulled the fridge door open to look for a snack and sighed when the cool air washed over her face. With her body bent over into the fridge she didn’t hear Jay come in until she stood back up and nearly ran into him since he was standing so close. 

“Are you okay?”

He questioned, glancing down at her and causing her to tilt her head up to look at him. 

“Yeah, I just didn’t hear you come in.”

She shrugged it off, moving to the cupboard that everyone stashed some snacks in. Hailey saw Jay smirk at her response but tried to ignore it. 

“I meant in general. You seem...distracted.”

His words trailed off and Hailey felt her palms slick with a nervous sweat. She kept her eyes glued to the cupboard, trying her best to be nonchalant about it.

“Nope. All good.”

She snagged a box of crackers and feigned interest in the ingredient list. Once again Jay was behind her before she even realized he moved. His hand came to grip the box, resting just above hers as he mimicked her reading the list.

“Really? Nothing on your mind?”

He was close enough that his breath ghosted over her while he spoke and she fought the urge to shiver at the sensation. He was pushing her and they both knew it. Hailey forced a deep breath in and turned around to face him, watching as it was his turn to blush slightly with their proximity. 

“Nope. Anything on yours?”

Hailey challenged, raising an eyebrow at him for emphasis. It backfired though and she watched as his eyes grew impossibly darker.

“A few things.”

His words sent a heat racing through her but before she could even begin to form a response, Kevin knocked on the door telling them they caught a case. Jay sent her another smirk before he turned and followed their fellow officer out of the room, leaving Hailey feeling more flustered than she ever had been before. Hailey followed him out to the truck, briefly debating just taking her own vehicle but not wanting to draw any attention to herself. Luckily, by the time she climbed in beside him, Jay was fully focused and in work mode. They raced to the scene, heading to help patrol with a robbery in progress and speeding up even more when the call for shots fired came across the radio. 

Once on scene, Hailey jumped out after Jay, gun in hand and followed after her partner. He moved in such a way it was obvious he had more training than just a police academy and his confidence in these situations was something Hailey cherished about him as a partner. She followed after him as they flanked the back of the building, motioning for patrol to take the other side. Just as they rounded the back alley, the back door of the shop burst open and a man ran out into the alley, instantly spotting them and taking off. Adam and Kim were behind them now and the four of them set off on a foot pursuit. Kim ducked off into a different alley, hoping to cut him off and Adam followed to back her up. Jay did his best to keep up with the offender but the maze of alleys and side streets was making it difficult. Hailey was fast but Jay was faster and he rounded the corner half a minute before her. No sooner had he disappeared from her view did the sounds of gunshots sound through the air. Hailey’s run faltered for a split second as her stomach sank with the sound. She rounded the corner after him, gun drawn up and ready to fire, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw Jay down on the ground. A few feet ahead of him lay the body of their offender, a large pool of blood forming underneath him making it obvious Jay’s shot was fatal. Hailey’s attention was immediately on Jay and the smaller pool of blood running underneath him. She collapsed beside him, her hands instantly traveling all over him searching for the source of the blood. He was awake and wreathing beneath her but he couldn’t speak. She frantically ripped away his shirt, finding a bullet lodged in the center of his vest. The sight made her breath hitch once again as the thoughts of what could have happened flashed before her. Hailey quickly undid the straps holding his vest in place and Jay was able to finally take a breath. She felt a rush of relief but her hands went right back to looking for the source of the blood. 

“My..ugh..my leg…”

He panted out, groaning beneath her touch when she found the wound in the middle of his thigh. Her hands clamped over it as she felt panic set it. Jay frantically shook his head, trying to form words between the waves of pain. Her eyes met his and she tried her damndest not to let the tears she could feel coming fall. 

“You gotta tie it off. Tourniquet..remember..?”

She nodded, how could she forget that day. But in her panic she froze when she realized she didn’t have the kit they had been provided. His hand tugged at his belt briefly before it slipped away again and she took the hint. Letting go of the wound to quickly undo his belt. In any other circumstance, this task would have her in a puddle on the ground, but right now this felt like life or death. She managed to pull the belt out from his jeans and fastened it around his leg tightly. Just as she finished Adam rounded the corner, screaming for an ambulance into his radio while he went to their dead offender. Kim came over to Hailey and Jay, looking just as panicked as Hailey felt but Jay did his best to assure them both that he would be okay. Sirens wailed in the distance and finally a team of paramedics was beside her, taking over her attempts at stopping his bleeding and hauling him onto the cot. Without hesitation she followed them up into the ambulance, having no intention of leaving his side until she knew he was truly okay. One medic started the drive to the hospital while the other quickly tended to Jay’s injuries. 

“Here.”

She said, handing Hailey a pair of scissors and motioning for her to start cutting away his close. Jay was calmer now and his eyes met hers momentarily when she hesitated. She swallowed hard and moved down to his boots, quickly pulling them off before using the shears to cut up the length of his jeans. The area around his wound had already been ripped open by the medic so Hailey went back down to cut up the other leg. When she got to his uninjured thigh she hesitated again, noticing the thigh holster strapped to his leg. 

“It all has to come off. You’re probably better with those things than I would be.”

The medic nodded to the holster, her tone obviously trying to lighten the atmosphere just a touch. Hailey nodded and her fingers began to fumble with the straps around his leg. Jay lifted his good leg slightly to give her a better angle and she managed to get the lower strap unhooked. The second strap, the one much higher up his leg and closer to a region she felt should be off limits, seemed to be a little harder to undo. She jiggled the holster around, slipping her fingers underneath as she wiggled it loose and her cheeks started to burn when she remembered Jay pulling away from her the day they were training. Her eyes glanced up towards the front of his jeans before she could help herself but she quickly averted them up to his face. His eyes were locked on hers and she knew she had been busted with her glance. Jay gave her a small smile, almost like the smirks he had been giving her all morning, and she was tempted to roll her eyes. This whole situation was ridiculous and the fact that she was currently more focused on her proximity to parts of him she had only dreamed out instead of his injuries or their current location made Hailey hate herself all the more. Finally the strap was off and they pulled into Med. Hailey followed along after the stretcher, knowing no was one going to stop her. She lingered at the edge of his room, watching as a team of doctors and nurses assessed his injury and stitched him up. She watched his face while they were working and hated the pain she saw there. Not only was he in discomfort because of the gunshot wound, but she knew better than anyone that he hated hospitals. This would be pure hell for him and she wished she could give him some comfort. Once they finished, the nurse told her she could sit beside him and they would be back momentarily. Hailey pulled a chair up to his bedside and settled into it slowly. 

“Hey.”

She spoke softly, almost a whisper. 

“Hey.”

He replied, sending her a small smile. It didn’t fully reach his eyes but she understood why. Hailey glanced down his body, lingering on the area where he had been shot and the sounds of the gun going off echoed through her head. She blinked and was surprised when she felt wetness on her cheek. Hailey quickly wiped away the tear that had fallen, frantically blinking away the others. 

“Hey...don’t do that.”

Jay whispered, reaching a hand out towards her. Without fully realizing what she was doing, she took it, grasping his hand firmly in hers. 

“Sorry.”

She mumbled, feeling embarrassed with herself for her show of emotions. 

“No I’m sorry.”

He countered, squeezing her hand. Hailey met his eyes again, feeling hers still burn with unshed tears. 

“For what?”

Jay gave her a somber smile before he replied. 

“For always getting shot.”

Hailey let out a chuckle at his response, using her free hand to wipe away the tears that had sneaked out. 

“Yeah...if you could stop doing that it would be great.”

She smiled at him and the look in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. 

“I’m sorry for making you cry.”

His words almost broke the flood gate inside her and she wanted to tell him it wasn’t the first time. She cried the first time she saw him lying on the pavement, leaving Adam to pick up the pieces. She cried when he was kidnapped and again when she found him shot by Angela. And again when she sat in the waiting room, after Vanessa’s words had crashed into her like a freight train. But instead of saying anything she just pursed her lips into a smile and nodded slowly at him. Before either of them could say anything else, the curtain whipped open and Will barged in. Hailey pulled her hand away from Jay’s quickly, hoping his brother hadn’t noticed, but she didn’t worry long when she took in the look on Will’s face. She wasn’t even sure he had noticed she was here. 

“Dude. Really?”

Was all he said and Hailey couldn’t help but grin at his words. Jay glanced at her, a slight smirk on his face, before turning back to face his brother.

“All part of the job.”

Jay shrugged, earning an eye roll from Will. 

“A part you seem to be really good at.”

Will scoffed, grabbing Jay’s chart and flipping through it. He nodded in silent approval before turning back to address Jay again. 

“You’re lucky, a gunshot wound to the thigh can go bad quick. It didn’t knick anything important and they said bleeding was controlled well on scene.”

Jay nodded towards Hailey as Will finished speaking. 

“You can thank this one for that. Used my belt as a tourniquet to control the bleeding.”

Hailey ducked her head down, shaking it back and forth and feeling slightly embarrassed. Will really did thank her though before he left them alone again, citing a packed ER and not enough doctors. 

“I do owe you a thanks for that.”

Jay stated, drawing her attention back to him.

“It was your idea, I totally forgot.”

Hailey shrugged him off, pulling at a string on her jeans. 

“Yeah well that training day was...kinda distracting.”

Her eyes shot up at his mention of that day, something she had hoped he would just totally forget about. But of course she wasn’t that lucky. 

“If you say so…”

She brushed it off, despite the fact that her heart was pounding inside her chest. 

“Oh I do.”

Jay smirked again and Hailey wanted to smack it off his face. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and his grin only grew when her cheeks flushed again. 

“Whatever.”

She mumbled, looking for a reason to bolt out of the room. 

“You do that a lot now.”

He stated, eyes locked on her once again. It was a trap and she knew it, but it didn’t stop her from walking right into it. 

“Do what?”

She challenged, meeting his eyes in an intense stare. 

“Blush.”

If she thought she was blushing before it was nothing compared to the fire that ignited in her face now. His eyes held hers and she couldn’t look away no matter how hard she tried. His eyes darkened again and it was everything in her not to look away. When it became obvious she wasn’t going to say anything, Jay decided to push her one step farther. 

“And thanks for saving my holster too. That top latch is kinda tricky, really gotta play with it sometimes.”

Hailey nodded slowly, unable to form any coherent words. Jay seemed to know the effect this conversation was having on her, what his looks could do, but she wasn’t sure how or what she should even feel about that realization. 

Jay’s doctor came into the room then, telling them Jay was good to go and that he could follow up in a week to have the stitches removed. Hailey stepped out for him to get dressed and pulled the truck around, someone had dropped it off earlier while Jay was getting stitched up. When Hailey pulled up to the entrance she saw Jay somewhat limping his way out of the door. His face flashed surprise when he saw her behind the wheel of his truck and it stayed there when she made no motion to get out from the driver's seat. He pulled the passenger door open and just stared at her, causing Hailey to just smile in return. 

“You can’t drive. I distinctly remember that being part of your discharge instructions.”

It was her turn to send him a smirk as he slowly climbed inside, his eyes never leaving her. 

“But it’s my truck…”

He trailed off, looking bewildered. 

“Well, if you don’t want to ride in it, I can call someone else to pick you up. But I’m driving this thing home.” 

Hailey let her foot rest on the gas pedal, revving the engine for added effect and was pleased to see his jaw drop slightly. He stared her down but slowly moved to secure his seat belt. Hailey shifted into drive, feeling pleased with the response she had received. It wasn’t her plan to drive his truck, but this is the vehicle they dropped off instead of her Jeep and it was ended up being the perfect payback for the torture Jay had put her through today.

[itisannak]

CEO!Michael x President’s Daughter!Y/N (Michael Clifford Smut Fic)

Summary: (Y/N) is the daughter of the company's president Michael holds the CEO position. They dated a few years back until they broke up due to the long distance. Now, (Y/N) is back, and her father has plans for her. Plans that Michael is absolutely opposed to. (Smut / Unprotected Sex / Oral; Female Receiving) The fic contains 2 scenes where marital rape is mentioned. The mentions are not graphic and there is no description of the incident. I have put the scenes in Italics and they are marked with asterisks (****) at the beginning and end of the paragraph. I actually saw this story in my dream once and I simply had to write it. I hope you like it, I put a lot of work into it.   (Words: 15.9k)

"Good morning, Ms. (Y/L/N). Welcome back." My father's secretary greets me as soon as I step out of the elevator. I take off my sunglasses, looking at her with an ironic smile; such a kiss-ass. "Good morning, Mrs. Venable. My father is waiting for me in the board room. You must be aware of that..." I reply and she nods. "Of course. That's why I am here. I have specific instructions for guiding you there. You see, we had a little bit of a floor remodeling while you were away." She states, gesturing for me to follow her. "It was about time we had one." I mumble, following suit behind her. My high heels click against the marble floor, covering whatever chatter talk the secretary has been mumbling as we walk. "Your father made sure no one is going to bother you during the meeting." She comments, opening the door for me. I nod my head before walking in, being greeted by my father who opens his arms for me.

"(Y/N), sweetheart. Thank you for being here on time." He comments as I hug him. "Was I ever late when we had a meeting? Let me pour myself some coffee and then we can talk about the important matter that is so important that we couldn't talk about it at home." I sass, reaching for the pot in the center of the table. "Cutting straight to the matter, I see." He states with a chuckle, making me smirk. "Learned from the absolute best. Now, let's talk about business. Is this meeting about me being hired on the legal team of the company? Because you really didn't need to make that announcement all fancy like that." I brag just a little, bringing the mug to my lips. "It is not about that, darling. It is far more important than that." He assures me, making me look at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Then what is it, dad?" I ask, causing him to clear his throat. "Remember the Jophersons?" He asks me and I hum. "How couldn't I forget? What about them?" I ask, sitting up straight. "We have been bargaining a partnership. Their company and ours becoming one. It would be huge, we would take over the world market." He explains, far too passionate about it. "This is exciting, daddy. Do you need my approval as a shareholder? Because you know I would agree with that, even if you didn't ask." I smile at him, patting his hand. "Well, not nearly. The thing is... Jophersons' youngest son, Edward... You remember him, right? Well, he set a condition or else they pull the offer." He states, making me even more confused. "Ugh, of course, he would, that sleazy bastard... What did he ask for?" I ask, cringing at the memory of him. "You know that boy always had a crush on you... He asked... He set a clause that he would allow the partnership under the condition you would agree to marry him." He explains, making my stomach spasm. "No, not him. No. He has been trying to get me for years. It is a vanity project for him. I am nothing more than a trophy. Daddy, there has to be another way. Not Edward. Not Sleazy Eddy. Please, dad." I panic, feeling the temperature rise. "(Y/N), listen to me... It is the only way. Please, take a deep breath." He says, standing up and patting my shoulder. I tear up at the thought; he is the typical rich white guy, the type you see on the Bachelor show. He thinks that looks and money make the world revolve around him. He has been 'flirting' with me at every party, always trying to push on the boundaries, always being way too suggestive. It makes me sick, he makes me sick. My father can't really ask me to marry someone I don't like, can he? "Dad, no... This is inappropriate. This is unacceptable. We don't live in 1950. I am not some kind of exchangeable goods that he can demand on a contract." I hyperventilate, standing up from the chair I was sitting. "Sit down and lower your damn voice. All this year I have provided you with everything. It is time you finally paid back to the family. You know how important this is for me." He says, way sterner than before. "You can't be asking me to make that sacrifice. I don't love him, I don't even like him as a human. Please, dad. Anything but that. I will die if I marry him." I plead, feeling my throat convulse. I can barely breathe. "You are being dramatic. You will marry him and that's the end of it." He sounds way too determined as if he called me here to announce it rather than ask my input. "You are going to sacrifice my happiness on the money altar?" I ask him, making him scoff. "You make it sound like an Ancient Greek tragedy. You are not Iphigenia, sacrificing yourself for winds in your father's favor. You are marrying a rich guy, making your family richer and more powerful. You and your children, your children's children, and many generations after yours, are never going to worry about money. Stop pretending you are the victim here." He spits out, looking at me pitifully. "Not all that matters is money, dad." I state and he scoffs. "Please... It is easy for you to say that. You think money is not important because you never had to go a day without it. If you think money is not important, you are free to reject the offer and try to live without it." He announces, pointing at the door. I stare at him in shock, gulping down, and tensing my jaw. I nod my head, biting my lip. "Well, it seems like the decision has been finalized way before I was asked." I feel tears brimming in my eyes, sniffling as I try to stop myself from crying. "Get yourself together and go get ready. We have a meeting at 4, and your engagement will be announced along with the partnership. Make sure you are not late, make sure you look happy." He orders, making me chuckle. "Of course. We would hate for people to find out I'd rather kill myself before laying in bed with the devil." I state before storming out of the room.

I walk into the bathroom, trying to calm myself before I have a panic attack. My clothes feel awfully tight, constraining my breathing. I feel awful, disgusted by myself, by my family. My father is willing to practically sell me to someone to gain more power. I thought that this is something only happening to girls in 3rd world countries. I feel powerless; my family can't disown me, I have practically nothing, plus their connections would turn their backs on me. And I really can't marry Edward. I can't, I won't. The thought of him disgusts me, to the point of actually feeling like throwing up all over his face. I certainly cannot hope for a white wedding; his intentions for me wouldn't let him.

I press my back against the cold tile wall, sliding down on it. I want to crawl out of my skin, I want to scratch my flesh off my body. I can't be marrying him, but I also cannot reject it. The decision has been taken, my agreement was just fine letters for them. I think I chose to stay in the bathroom because I felt powerless to move anywhere else. I take a look at myself in the mirror; it is like I am having an out-of-body experience. I don't recognize the woman in the mirror, she doesn't nearly look familiar. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before opening my purse and reaching for my little makeup bag. Just a bit of powder to make my eyes look like I haven't been crying my soul out and a little bit of lipstick to add some color to my washed-out complexion. I look better than my father and future husband deserve; had I have the guts, I would show up dressed in rugs.

"You don't look like you went home to change." My father comments as I take a seat by him on the big table in the board room. "It might be because I didn't. I didn't want to be late for the glorious announcement." I state sarcastically, taking my phone out of my purse. In walk the Jophersons, the father followed by the eldest and youngest son. Oh, my future husband... He has the stupidest smirk, the victorious kind he always sports. God, I will have to spend my life with this moron, whose only achievement is being born in a family of old money. He takes a seat across from me, giving me a side smirk as he settles. My stomach stings, every bite of my breakfast crawling up and threatening to fly out of my mouth. And then he walks in, looking like a million bucks. I haven't thought about the possibility of running into him here, like my brain refused to run down the scenario. Michael is still the CEO, he still runs the company. My father holds the founder position and the chairman of the board, but Michael is still the CEO here. My mind goes fuzzy around the edges, only focusing on him as his eyes lock with mine. Now my stomach fills with butterflies, my heart skipping a bit. I haven't seen him for 3 years now, ever since the breakup, but I would be damned if I said I haven't thought of him every day ever since. "Everyone's here?" My father asks, standing up from his chair. I press my hand against my temples, bracing myself for the impact. "Shall we begin?" He asks again, fixing the button of his blazer. "Before we talk about the business part of the meeting, I have an important announcement to make. My beautiful daughter, the most precious part of my heart, and Edward Jopherson are getting married. Everyone present is invited and welcome to the engagement party on Saturday." He announces, making the board clap and cheer, as Ed smirks smugly. I dart my eyes away, finding Michael looking at me in a state of shock.

I scrubbed and washed my skin away, trying to get rid of the dirty feeling that has seeped in under my skin. I want to lock myself away from the world outside, wishing to build a haven for me where I will be safe and all of this is just a bad dream. My hair has moistened the fabric of my romp, and my face is as blank as it has never been before. The only lights that I let in are coming from the big window that overlooks the city and the TV that has been playing for hours now, providing some noise that distracts me from going insane. I sniffle as I wipe my tears away, deciding that a good ol' sob-out is what I need. This is how my life is going to be from now on, I just know it. I don't want the only happiness in my life coming from materialistic stuff, but I know that marrying Edward is only going to give me this kind of happiness. I don't let myself get delusional, thinking that somehow Edward is going to turn out to be some decent guy, a guy that will love and respect me, because I know him for the douche he is. I am going to be a trophy wife for him. A sad, lonely trophy wife.

My doorbell rings, making me jump up from the couch. I walk to the door, fixing my romp and wiping my eyes before I peep through the peephole, finding Michael standing outside my door. "Who let you in?" I ask him as I open the door. "Yous still have the same pin. You still have my birthday as your entrance pin." He points out, making me huff. "Shit... I forgot to change it after coming back. What do you want? You shouldn't be here." I state, gulping the lump in my throat. "Can I come in?" He asks; it is more of a demand than a request, his tensed jaw moving from side to side. "You really shouldn't be here." I repeat and he hums. "Well, I am here." He states, cocking his eyebrow at me. I move from the door, letting him inside my penthouse before closing the door. "What do you want, Michael?" I ask, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "Why are you marrying him?" He asks me, making me roll my eyes. "Why do you care? We are not together anymore. We haven't been for years." I protest and he groans. "I still fucking care and you know it. You were the one who called the end." He snaps, making me chuckle sarcastically. "I called it quits because we were apart. I was away for my master's and you were here running the company. I was the one traveling to see you. Do you know how many essays I wrote on planes traveling back and forth? You were never visiting, I was tired of you finding excuses. It's been years since, Michael. Stop pretending you care." I shake as I let it out, making him groan at me from deep in his chest. "I still fucking care about you and you can't change it. Why are you marrying Sleazy Ed? Your stomach turned at the sight of him and now all of a sudden you want to spend your life with the douchebag?" He asks me, raising his voice. "Stop yelling at me. You know damn well why I am marrying him." I reply, prompting him to look at me a little disgusting. "You are marrying him for money? Doesn't your family have enough?" He asks. "I am marrying him to give my father his precious partnership. I am marrying him because there is no other way." I snap at him, making him drop his face and walk closer to me. "What? What are you talking about?" He asks, voice going soft. "Ed, set as a clause that I will have to marry him for him to agree on the partnership. You didn't know?" I ask and he shakes his head no. "He can't do that." He protests and I shrug. "Apparently he can and he already did. I was exchanged for more power, I was part of the deal. So please, spare me the dramatics right now. I have already maxed out on my tragedy for the day." I say, feeling hollow. "You can't marry him." He stutters, making me chuckle. "The other option was destroying the deal, and my parents disowning me and me being left with no one and nothing." I reply, throwing my hands in the air in frustration. "No, no... You can't marry him... I can't let you marry him." He exasperates, running his hand down his face. "Michael... It is too late. You were there when the contracts were signed. The partnership is about to start and I am about to go wedding dress shopping for my wedding with Sleazy Ed. It is over for me, Michael. It has been over for us for years, and now it is over for me as well, I will be sad and lonely for the rest of my life." I shrug my shoulders, feeling all my emotions choking me. "It's not over. It's was never over for us, (Y/N). I haven't stopped loving you and I know you haven't stopped loving me either. I know you haven't, I knew since the moment I saw you in the conference room. This can't be our end." He says, looking at me with the softest look. I can't really breathe; the only thought in my mind right now is somewhat ending up with Michael. "Don't say things you know that can't be true." I sniffle, causing him to walk towards me, grab my face in his hands, and pull me in for a kiss.

I respond to him, kissing him back as if I depend on it. I remember how much I liked kissing him, I remember every movement of his lips against mine, how warm they felt. I walk backward until my back meets the wall, and Michael's body presses against mine. I sigh in the kiss, just seconds before his teeth pull on my bottom lip. My hands move to unbutton his shirt, a little eager to feel him whole against my body. "You can't be marrying him to please your father when you know what I can do with my tongue." He mumbles, lowering his body and wrapping my legs around his waist. "Are you going to make me feel good?" I ask and he hums, bringing his face to my chest. "As always, princess." He mumbles, setting me on my bed. He kneels, undoing the belt that holds my romp together. I am left in the matching, silky negligee, which Michael just lifts its hem to my stomach. He pulls my panties to the side, bringing his mouth to my sex. "Oh, Michael..." I sigh, closing my eyes and throwing my head back. I always loved his lips there, he always knew how to make me cum. His tongue swirls against my clit, before flicking on it fast. My hand lowers to his hair, twisting and gripping on his locks. "Oh fuck..." I cry, pressing my core more on his face.

He sucks on my bundle of nerves vigorously, bringing his fingers to my entrance. His ring and middle finger circle around my entrance. I turn my head to the side, my eyes falling on the window running along my bedroom. The city looks better than ever right now, the lights reflecting on the glass of my window blurring in and causing lines of highlights to blend in the scenery. He hooks his fingers up against my spot, making my legs shake and my whole body writhe from pleasure. "Michael, please... Please, I need more of you, I need all of you." I cry out, making him smile against my core. "Want me, baby?" He asks, taking his mouth off my cunt, taking a breath as he plants kisses on the inside of my thigh. "Today... more than ever." I utter, stroking his hair. "Me too, baby." He smiles, crawling up my body and leaving a trail of kisses from my thighs, to my hipbones, and then all the way up to my neck. He reaches down to unzip his pants, lowering them until he frees his cock. He pulls me closer by my thighs, wrapping my legs around his hips and stroking his cock against my sex. "You still like it raw, baby?" He asks, nibbling on my ear lobe. "Only from you." I whimper and he chuckles. My hands go to his biceps as he tries to slip inside me.

When he does, he moves slowly, giving me time to adjust to him after all this time. His hand goes to the side of my face, stroking his fingers over it as I whimper softly and try to accommodate to him. "Please, make love to me... This might be my last time experiencing that." I plead, making him shake his head. "It won't be, princess. I won't allow it." He assures me, pressing his lips against mine. I part my lips, letting him slide his tongue in my mouth and deepen the kiss, just as he starts thrusting faster. I feel him stretch my walls as he moves, which makes me moan and moves against him. His thumb grazes over my cheek, soothing me while he pounds in me harder, angling up to hit my spot just right. I moan against his lips, throwing my head a little back and causing his lips to move on my chin. "Princess..." He mumbles softly, his voice huskier than before. "Don't stop." I beg, moving my hips against his. "I won't... I won't stop, baby. I missed you, I missed us." He breathes out, his breath fanning against my skin. "Oh, Michael... You know my body too well. I am so close." I whine, touching his face with my fingertips. I bring his face to mine, connecting our lips as he thrusts in and out of me, making my eyes flicker at how good he feels inside me. The knot in my stomach snaps, making me groan as I orgasm around him, twitching underneath him. "Fuck, I had forgotten how good you feel cumming around me." He hisses, tilting my head to the side, and latching his lips on my neck.

"There must be a way you can avoid marrying that douchebag and not breaking the deal." Michael comments as I walk back to my bed after cleaning up. "No, there isn't. And I don't want to talk about it right now." I reply, sighing as I sit on the bed. "This was a mistake..." I mumble, feeling tears forming in my eyes. "You regret it?" He asks me worried. "Not a second of it. I just... I will never be as happy as I was on this bed with you. And tonight only makes living with Ed seem harder. So, tonight shouldn't happen again. Because if it happens again, it will only highlight how sad my life with him is going to be." I sob, making him kneel in front of me. "Let me stay tonight. Let me hold you in my arms, let me take you in, one last time. If this is goodbye, we deserve a proper one, we deserve a soft one." He says, making me nod as my lips pout and twitch and my eyes fill with tears. "Hey, hey... Don't cry. Tonight we pretend all of this is not happening and that we will be alright." He says softly, peppering my face with kisses. "I always thought I would be marrying you. I always saw myself having children with you, living in a beautiful house by the sea, with a huge garden, kinda like a field." I state as Michael pulls me to lay on the bed, pressing my back against his chest. "The house sounds dreamy. How many children?" He asks me, strumming his thumb over my hip. "3. Two boys and a girl." "Two Michaels and one (Y/N), huh? Well, I want 4. And a bunch of dogs." He replies and I giggle. "This is just a dream." I say under my breath. "I know. But dreams do come true, you know..." He plants a kiss on my shoulder. "Rarely." I add and he chuckles. "I promise to make this one come true. Even if it means moving heaven and earth to make it." He tries to assure me, making me smile at how naive this is.

The house is full of people; people I don't know, people I don't care to meet. All I care about is the fact that Edward has been walking around, with his hand on my lower back and a smile on his face, introducing future Mrs. Jopherson to the invitees. I have been drinking the whole night, trying to numb myself, disassociating from all of this. I hate his touch, I hate the feeling of him close to me, I hate the sound of his voice. I hate everything, and this is supposed to be only the beginning of it. "I have to go freshen up... Excuse me for a sec." I remove myself politely from the company, walking away as fast as I can. I can't wait for the event to be over and I get to go home, lock myself in my apartment, away from everyone, away from my parents, away from my fiance.

I let myself into the upstairs guest bathroom, locking the door behind me before I sit on the lid of the toilet. I fidget with my fingers, trying to breathe normally; I didn't think of what I would do once I was away from the people in the party, only focusing on a way to just go away. The knock of the door startles me, making me jolt in my seat and gasp. "Occupied." I call, hoping whoever it is will fuck off elsewhere and leave me alone. "Michael." He responds, almost whispering. I stand up, walking to the door, and unlocking it to let him in. "What are you doing here?" I ask, closing the door. "I wanted to check on you." He says, shrugging his shoulders. "I mean at the engagement party. Why are you here?" I ask and he sighs. "It is painful. But it is way more painful for you. And I didn't want to leave you here alone. I know you are alone in this house tonight, and I wanted you to have someone here for you tonight. Plus, your father invited everyone and I think people would notice if I wasn't here." He replies, making me gulp the knot in my throat and nod my head. "I hate it here..." I sniffle and he cups my face in his hands. "Hey, hey... No crying. He doesn't get to make you cry. You are going to make it through this, I am going to help you any way I can." He mumbles, making me look at him. "You have to go. We agreed we wouldn't..." "I am not here to take advantage of you. I am here because I could tell from across the room you were about to meltdown... And I didn't want you to make anything stupid." He replies, making me chuckle. "I wouldn't. The deal would be off." I joke, laughing and making Michael join me in. "You are the love of my life. I love you, more than anything in the world." He says, looking at me in the eye. "It is time to stop. It is time you find someone else to love... It is ok, you can't wait for me forever." I assure him but he shakes his head. "You can't tell who to love or for how long. I gave you my heart way back, and it is yours to keep. I will be waiting for you because you are getting out of it." He states, pressing his lips on my forehead. "I'll go downstairs now. Try not to take too long." He mumbles, stroking my cheek before he turns away.

Sooner than I anticipated, the night before my wedding arrived. My parents and future in-laws through a big rehearsal dinner, where my future husband decided that PDA was essential. I nearly vomited 3 times during the hour-long dinner, really putting my acting skills to full capacity to avoid showing off how much I wanted to die. I could only feel gratitude the moment I walked into my apartment. My parents wanted me to stay at the family house my last night as Ms. (Y/L/N), my mother for sentimental purposes, so she could be there for her little girl on the final night she would sleep alone, and my father just to make sure I wouldn't run away. But he settled on me going to the family house bright and early, accompanied of course by a bunch of his guards. I pour myself a glass of whiskey, petrified by daylight coming in soon. I thought about escaping, I am not going to lie, but I have nowhere and no one to go to. At my father's command, everyone will cut me off if I disobey him. I thought about running to Michael; I know he will be there waiting with open arms. But he is going to lose his job and have a similar fate to mine, being turned down by everyone he asks for a job from. I know how hard he has worked to get where he is, and I would never, ever do that to him. He was at the rehearsal, looking at me silently from his spot, enduring the torture of seeing me with another man.

My doorbell rings and I rush to it, my heart skipping happily; I knew he would come. I open the door and find Michael behind it, just as I expected. I fall in his arms, making him wrap them around me tightly. "I knew you would come..." I mumble, refusing to let him go. He still holds onto me as we walk in, closing the door behind him. "I can't stay away from you." He replies, pushing my chin up so he can kiss me. "You are the only person I wanted to see tonight. No one else." I state in between kisses, making him hum. "I know. I could feel it." He mumbles, cupping my face in his hands. "Are you going to stay with me?" I ask, looking at him pleadingly. "I can't leave you... I can't..." He breathes out, picking me up to carry me to my bed.

His hands work fast to bare me of my clothes, while his lips trail my skin. His hands touch me everywhere, making me chill at the sensation. "I love you... I love you so much..." He mumbles, looking up at me. "I love you too... More than anything in the world." I reply, making him smile at me softly. His lips move to my neck while he thrusts inside me, taking my hands in his. I gasp, closing my eyes to focus only on how good he feels inside me. He kisses my jawline, breathing against my skin as he moves inside me. "I love you..." He repeats, bringing his lips on mine. He kisses me deeply, squeezing harder on my hands as he bucks his hips against mine, angling up to hit my spot. I kiss him back just as deeply, bringing my hand to twist in the hair on the end of his head. My thigh is pressed against his side, trying to hold my body closer to his as he thrusts harder, making me pulse around his length. "You feel so good." I breathe out, throwing my head back. One of his hands leaves mine, traveling down to my hip and tracing soft patterns on it as he holds onto me. "I will never get enough of you... All of you and all of me belong together." He utters, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. I moan in pleasure, eyebrows furrowing together as I bite my bottom lip. I feel warm and loved underneath him, something that my body has been aching to experience again. I buck my hips up against his, riding on him to meet his thrusts. "Fuck, do that again." He whines, face morphing into his familiar pleasure expression. "What? Move my hips like that?" I ask, rolling them against him. "Fuck... Fuck... I wanna cum..." He hisses, pounding on top of me. "Not yet... Not yet, please... I wanna cum with you. And I just need a little more to get myself there. Please..." I whimper, gasping as I feel his tip press against my cervix. His veins are pulsing against my walls, his thrusts are becoming sloppier and sloppier each passing second, showing me he is achingly close to his high. But he keeps himself from coming, biting his lip and digging his nails into my skin. I want him to leave a mark, I want him to mark me as his own so that I will have to walk down the aisle wearing his touch under my designer wedding dress. "You are pulsing around me... You are milking my cock, princess." He slurs, panting as he fucks me deeper with every move of his hips. "Michael..." I cry out, arching my back off the mattress. He scoops his arm under my waist, holding me close to him as he gives me a couple of final thrusts before I shriek and cum around him, screaming his name as I clutch onto him as if he is the most precious part of my soul; which he certainly has been, currently is, and always will be.

With the final thrust, he glues on me, holding me down and resting his head in the curve of my neck while he cums inside me, making me feel warm, full, and safe. "Go pack a bag." He orders as he calms down from his orgasm, flopping with his back against the bed. "What?" I ask, resting my head against his chest and taking his hand in mine. "Go pack a bag, just a few clothes, and necessities. Let's leave. Now. Please, let's leave together." He begs, making me hum bittersweet. "And where do you think we should go?" I ask, knowing better than him that there isn't a plan for this escape. "I don't know. We will get in a car together, drive to a different state, and take a plane elsewhere. I have qualifications, experience, I will find another job. And we will get a house by the sea, with a big garden, just as you pictured it. Please, go pack a bag." He looks at me like a puppy, his eyes sparkling. "My father is going to fight you, no one will hire you. He has power, money, influence. He knows politicians, he is going to make sure you and I suffer if we oppose and cancel the deal. No one is going to hire you, nor me." "I don't care, I will work at McDonald's, I will flip burgers... I just want to be with you. Run away with me." He presses on me, running his thumb over the back of my hand. "You are going to hate me for the rest of your life. You worked too hard to get where you are right now. If you throw it all away for me, you are going to hate me. Maybe not the first months, or the first couple of years, but 3 or 4 years in, when we will be staying in a tiny apartment and we won't be able to afford to have a baby, and the bills are going to be piling up, you are going to despise me, you are going to curse the moment you suggested we run away and I said yes. So, since I want you to remember me with love and not hatred, I have to say no." I explain and he sighs. "(Y/N), please." He begs, voice cracking. "Mikey, baby... I love you. And turning this down is even harder than getting married to Sleazy Ed tomorrow evening, so, please don't ask me again." I reply, leaving a peck on his chest. I am oddly calm while I let the words out, my soul feeling at peace as I realize I am doing what's best for everyone. "I could never hate you. Never. Even if we lived in a cardboard, underneath a bridge. And sacrificing what I have right now, it will be a lot easier than watching you become his wife." He replies, hugging me to his body. "Don't come to the wedding tomorrow. Putting on the whole show is going to be a lot harder if you are there. I don't want you going through that." I almost beg him. "I think everyone will notice I am missing. We did so well hiding our relationship while we were together, let's not give them suspicions. Plus, I can't leave you there alone." He says soothingly, rubbing down my arm. ****"I... Tomorrow night, he is going to..." I begin but he shushes me. "If he touches you, if he lays his hands on you, in any way, I will kill him myself. I swear to God and anything sacred." He looks at me in the eye, hissing a threat I know he can't bring to life. "We know the only reason he put that clause in the contract is just to get in my pants. He couldn't ask for a night with me, that would show his true colors to my father, to his father, to everyone on both boards. He has been trying to fuck me for years, I have been turning him down every time and that pissed him off. If I don't give him what he wants, he will only become more obsessed. So, tomorrow night, when he thrusts in me for less than 3 minutes, I am going to close my eyes and think of you, and all of the times you made me feel ethereal, like a goddess on Earth." I reply, smiling at him softly. "He is going to..." He begins but I press my finger on his lips. "He doesn't have power over me. I'll give him what he wants and he will be disinterested, move back to fucking everyone with a pussy between their legs." I reply and he groans; I feel his anger, his frustration, his helplessness, and I have been there when I first realized what would happen after the wedding. You see, putting on a dress and saying "I do" is going to be just the beginning. And the beginning is the easiest in this scenario. "You are the bravest person I know. You have bigger balls than any motherfucker I know." He states and I sigh. "Yeah, I know." I reply, raxing my back and yawning. ****

"A week from tomorrow, at 9 pm, you come to find me at the hotel we used to go when we were hiding from everyone. I will text you the room number at 8:30. Come find me." He instructs and I huff. "Are we running away from there?" I ask him, causing him to shake his head. "No. Not yet, at least. It will be just you and me for a couple of hours, a bit of sensitization for both of us, because I know we will both be out of our bodies until then. I will be your haven, your safe space for a few hours, and you will be my happiness, the only thing that will keep me from losing it." He explains, making me tear up a little. "We will meet weekly." I suggest and he hums. "More frequently if we need it. You will just text me, or I will just text you and we will meet at the hotel whenever we need it." He kisses the top of my head, breathing steadily. "I love you." I utter, lacing my fingers with his. "I love you too, pretty girl." He whispers, making warmth spread on my body.

"You look so pretty, (Y/N)... You are the most beautiful bride I have seen." My father smiles as he walks into the bridal suite. He is supposed to walk me down the aisle, deliver me to the douchebag I am supposed to marry in just a few minutes. "Stop, stop with this bullshit, we both know I look nothing like myself. Not even close. We both know that this facade is not pretty..." I rumble, feeling like giving myself one last chance to walk out of this free. "(Y/N), you are being dramatic. I swear to God, if you pull that crap in front of everyone, I will make you regret it." He threatens. My chest tightens and I decide that attack is not the best strategy. "Dad... Daddy... That man... You know that man is going to torture me. I don't love him, dad. He is going to make me unhappy. Please don't throw my life away. Please, dad... You are the only one with the power to stop it. Please, dad..." I beg, looking at him for a reaction. "Everyone is waiting for us, Mrs. Jopherson." He replies, linking my arm with his. I nod my head and wipe away my eyes, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. "Yes, sir. Let's go offer everyone a show." I say coldly, putting on my brave face.

I counted the seconds until the day I would see Michael arrived. I lied to the house personnel that I would be heading to the gym in case Edward asks my whereabouts and drove to the hotel as fast as I could, feeling jittery about seeing him again. There were mere seconds between me knocking on the door and him opening it, smiling at me. I fall in his arms, breathing in his scent to ground myself to reality. He is here, and I am here, and this is real, more real than what happened in the past week. He pulls me inside and I push the door closed with my foot. "I missed your pretty face... I missed you so much." He whispers, peppering my face with kisses. "Not more than I did." I assure him, cradling his face in my hands and kissing him deeply. ****"Did he touch you? Are you ok?" He asks after we pull away, holding me by my shoulders. "He was too drunk to do anything on the first night. We stayed in a hotel suite and the moment he was off, I went and booked myself a room. I stayed there all night and only saw him in the morning. We went for lunch with my parents and his, spent most of the day there. We got home at night and he... It lasted 3 minutes and 37 seconds... I know, I counted them. He rolled to the side, mumbled something to himself. And then he fell asleep. I slept in a guest room, woke up super early just to go back to his bed. After that, he didn't bother with me. He got what he wanted. I am sleeping in a different room than him now. He doesn't seem to mind." I state, making him close his eyes and draw a breath, trying to contain himself. ****

"Hey, hey... I am alright. Can we please, stop talking about it now? This whole safe haven thing is not going to work if we are constantly talking about him." I ask, stroking his cheek, as he nods his head at me. "I picked up some Asian food from the place near my house. I got you extra dumplings because I know you like them." He says, pointing to the bag that is resting on the table nearby. "You know, my excuse for tonight was that I was going to the gym. I can't go back home blotted from dumplings." I joke and he hums. "Well, if you'd like... I can help with burning the extra calories..." He smirks, making me roll my eyes at him. "I was really hoping you would... I have been thinking of you touching me nearly every day since the last time." I place my hands on the sides of his neck.

"I was thinking... Maybe... I don't know, the weekend after this one, maybe we could go on a little trip. On a little cabin in the woods, away from everyone... If you want to of course." He suggests, stroking my hair and twisting a lock of it between his fingers. My head is on his chest, his skin still a little damp with sweat from having sex a few minutes before. "I will have to find an excuse and we should definitely not meet during the next week, just for precaution, but it sounds magnificent." I state, supporting my body on my elbows to be able to look at him a little better. "We will leave on Friday afternoon. I'll pick you up from your old apartment. And we will drive there. Hopefully, we will make it there before night falls and we will have dinner under the stars. Just you and me, miles away." He states, running his knuckles down my back. "Why are we meeting here?" I ask and he looks at me with confusion. "What do you mean?" He asks me back. "I still have my old apartment. We can meet there, it will feel more... homey, I guess." I suggest and he chuckles. "Aren't you afraid of getting caught?" He asks me and I shake my head at him. "Ed doesn't know about the house, and my parents don't have keys. I have no neighbors, I live in the penthouse... Getting caught is no valid worry." I respond and he hums. "Ok then... Next meeting will be at your house." He replies, pressing his lips on my forehead.

The housekeeper leaves the plate before me, making me smile at her politely. Edward has been scrolling on his phone, which is a huge relief for me. He barely ever talks to me while he is at home, which is torturing. He married me to prove he could, and he plans on spending our married life just keeping me incarcerate in a life of nothing. "My best friend from college is coming from Spain next weekend. We are thinking of going to Miami for the weekend to catch up. Girls weekend out and stuff." I state, picking up my glass of wine. "And you are telling me this because...?" He asks, not raising his gaze from his phone. "Just to let you know I will be gone next weekend. Friday to Monday morning." I reply, shrugging my shoulders. "Yeah, have fun. Try not to make a big fool out of yourself." He replies, making me press my tongue against my cheek and swallow my anger. "Thanks. Try not to catch too many STDs while I am gone." I roll my eyes, sipping on my wine.

Friday came and I couldn't wait to get out of the house. If sneaking around with Michael in hotel rooms makes me feel free, that feeling of freedom becomes a thousand times intenser now that we are going away from all that. Michael pulls into the parking under my old apartment, making me jump in excitement. I skip to the car, throwing my duffel bag in the backseat before slipping in the front. "Hi, baby." He greets, smiling at me. I lean closer to him, pressing my lips against his for a quick peck, which he turns into a deeper, proper kiss by gripping onto the back of my head and prying my lips apart with his tongue. "Ready for our trip?" He asks as we part, making me squeal excitedly. "I have never been more ready about anything in my life" I reply, relaxing back into my seat. "The little cabin is absolutely beautiful. It has a fireplace and a cozy bedroom. And a little hot tub on the balcony, which has a breath-taking view. You are going to love it." He says, driving out of the parking. "Pity I didn't pack a swimsuit..." I pout, picking up the coffee cup from the cup holder. "You can go naked. I don't mind... Nothing I haven't seen before, nor I don't want to see... I mean. Babe, you have a body to kill for." He replies, cocking an eyebrow at me. "I packed a suit, unfortunately for you. Just in case... Plus, my whole excuse was that I will be going to Miami. I had to pack some bikinis for cover-up." I bring my hand to stroke his hair, making him groan in disappointment. "What do I have to do to convince you to go in naked?" He asks, making me lick my lips. "Well, did you pack wine with you?" I ask back, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Rosé and Red. I know my girlfriend..." He replies, bringing my hand to his lips. "Shall we put on some music? Let freedom begin?" I ask, bringing my phone out of my pocket. "Let the freedom begin, princess." He smiles at me, almost as excited as I am.

We reach the little cabin just before sunset, the whole scenery looking idealistic with the light surrounding it. "Let's leave the luggage in the car and go to the reception for the key." He suggests, parking the car as I stretch my body. "Didn't you make a reservation?" I ask and he nods. "I did. But we need to pick up the keys and leave some identification." He explains, opening his door and getting out. I follow his lead, walking by his side and locking arms with him. He leans in, pecking my temple softly. I smile and lean my head against his arm, feeling calm for the first time in a while.

We walk into the little reception, small enough to fit only the desk and the back room. "Hi. We have a reservation. Under the name Clifford." Michael says to the woman behind the desk. She smiles at us while he takes out his ID. "Mr. and Mrs. Michael Clifford, you reserved the house up the hill." She replies, checking Michael's ID. "That's us. Did the payment go through?" He asks and the lady nods. "Of course. Give me a second to make a copy and hand you the keys." She says, moving to the back room. "Mr. and Mrs. Michael Clifford?" I ask, making him shrug. "I like the sound of it. Don't you?" He asks me and I hum. "I love it. This weekend I am Mrs. Clifford." I state, my heart fluttering at the sound of it. I lean up, pressing a kiss on his lips while the smile still spreads on my face. "Well, Mrs. Clifford... What do you want to do once we are in our cabin?" He asks me, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. "I wanna have some wine with my husband, in front of the fireplace. Little to no clothing." I reply and he moans. "It sounds like a plan..." He replies, kissing the tip of my nose. "A good plan, I hope." I place my hand on top of his chest. "The best plan I've heard in years."He assures me, taking my hand in his.

After picking up the keys, Michael and I got into the car and drove up the hill where our cabin is. It looks like a typical cabin in the wood, with log walls and a front porch with comfortable seats. I carry my bag inside after Michael unlocks the door, and I walk in the coziest little living room, with a big sofa and a perfect fireplace. It is perfect, the total opposite of where we usually go. I walk up the staircase, leading to an open-plan bedroom. It is rustic, to say the least, but totally warm and homey. I leave my bag in the little armchair across the bed, smiling to myself as I imagine my weekend here with the love of my life. I was right; this is absolute freedom and I can picture myself living here forever with Michael, even if it isn't the dream house by the ocean I always pictured ourselves in. "Are you ok, love?" Michael asks, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around me. "I have never been better. This is oneiric, my love. I feel free." I take a deep breath, feeling my body relaxing finally. "I'll go start the fire. Wanna take a shower and freshen up?" He asks, kissing down the curve of my neck. "I'll be right downstairs. Crackers and cheese with the wine... My stomach is grumbling..." I pout as I turn around, making him hum. "You are hungry, bub?" He asks, raising my hoodie before kneeling down to kiss my stomach. "Very... But also I feel filthy after all those hours in the car. So, I need to go clean up." I stroke his hair, smiling down at him. "Filthy girl..." He mumbles, standing up and pressing his lips against mine. "Go. I will need warmth after the shower. Go start the fire, pour the wine, plate the cheese and crackers. Maybe have a shower too after the fire and before doing the rest. The car ride made you greasy..." I press my thumb on his bottom lip, pulling it down a bit, enough to reveal his bottom teeth before I press a peck on it. "And what are you going to do if I do everything?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. "Look pretty, smell great, be soft... So soft... Silky soft..." I say between kissing his neck in between kisses. "Fine... Go shower." He moans, throwing his head back.

Michael enters the bathroom right the moment I am wrapping my towel around my body. "Fuck, I missed all the fun." He sighs, making me chuckle. "We have a whole weekend to shower together." I remind him and he hums. "The fire is ready. I'll do the rest after the shower, just as the princess requested." He mumbles, stripping off his clothes. "You such a good boy for me... I will have to reward you for that..." I state, licking my lips as I watch his naked body. "What do you have in mind?" He asks, turning to look at me. "You know I am very good with my mouth... And not just for talking in court." I give him a wink, before walking out of the bathroom and letting him slip in the shower.

He was quick in his shower, soon moving downstairs to set up our little date and giving me time to dress up for him. Usually, when we meet in the hotel room, I am dressed in sports clothes, to cover my gym alibi. So now it is the perfect time for me to dress up for him, finally. So, I slip in my little babydoll, with the nice panties and garter belt underneath, tying it all together with my silky romp with lace details. I walk downstairs, finding Michael sitting by the fireplace already, 2 glasses of wine before him. "Well, that's quite the setup..." I comment, waiting for him to bring his focus on me. He averts his gaze to me, his face lighting up as he scans me. He stands up, walking his way towards me. He stares at me for a while, before his hands move to the belt of my romp. He tugs at it, looking at me for permission, which I grant by just nodding. He undoes it, letting the cover-up fall from my body. He looks at me in my babydoll, blinking a couple of times before running his hands down my sides. "Don't you look like a doll..." He comments, picking up my romp from the stairsteps. "You like it?" I ask, making him hum. "You look like a painting, my love." He replies, helping me walk down the remaining stairs. We walk to the fireplace, where he hands me a glass of wine. "If you get cold, you can always dress up. It is enough for me knowing what's under the romp."

He states, clinging his glass with mine while still staring at me. "It is actually very warm in here. Plus the wine is going to heat me a lot. So, I might strip down eventually." I reply, taking a sip from my wine. He breathes heavily, his chest moving visibly with every breath he draws in, while he gulps thickly. "Shit... I don't deserve you..." He shakes his head, running his hand down his face. "You deserve all of me." I assure him, moving closer to him, cupping his jaw in my hand before I kiss his lips. He tastes like his last gulp of wine, which makes me hazy, craving him more as I swipe my tongue between his teeth. He snakes his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to his body until I straddle him. "Wanna christen the cabin, princess?" He asks me, moving his lips from my lips to my chin and then down my neck. "What do you think, daddy?" I ask, breathing hard already. "You make me feel more intoxicated than all the wine in the world, my love." His breath fans against my skin, making me feel goosebumps spread on my body. "Michael..." I moan, feeling his hands stroking over my thighs slowly. "I know, baby. I need you too. Just as badly, if not more..." He whispers, kissing my neck hungrily. "Let me strip for you. I haven't done it in a while..." I ask, gasping under his touch. "Go ahead, baby. Do it slowly, let me take it in." He requests, leaning back as I stand before him. I watch the flames in the fireplace dance around, taking the tempo from them while I sway for him and touch my body, keeping eye contact as he drinks his wine and watches me as I toy with the straps of my babydoll.

I lower the left one, letting the garment drop a little from my chest. I watch him sit up a little, licking his lips as his face becomes a little redder. I drop the other one now, letting it fall completely. I am now standing bare-chested before him, left only in my garter and my panties, contrasting against my skin. "Let those on. I like them..." He says, moving near me. He brings me to lay with my back against the fuzzy carpet, hovering above me before he brings his lips to my chest. He kisses my body softly, every now and then bringing the tip of his tongue to lick the imprint his lips left as he trails them down towards my navel. He leaves a couple of hickeys, softly sucking on my skin to mark it in the prettiest colors. "Lower... Lower... Please..." I moan, feeling a tingling sensation between my thighs. "Lower? Here?" He asks, kissing an inch above the hem of my panties. "Lower..." I plead, tangling my fingers in the fuzz of the carpet. "Here?" He asks, lowering my panties and kissing my pussy, inches above my clit. "A little lower. Please, don't tease me like that..." I beg, becoming frustrated over the whole thing. "There... Fuck... There." I cry out, right as his lips wrap around my clit. He hums, pleased by my reaction to him, while he circles his tongue around the tip of it. "Oh Michael..." I moan, as his fingers trace down my outer lips. He parts them, slipping 2 of his fingers inside me and hooking them up against my post. He pumps them against it, making me tremor in surprise. "You taste so good, princess." He whispers, leaning his head against my thigh and flicking his tongue against my clit repeatedly and slowly, sending a wave of electricity down my spine. "You are so freaking good at this." I exclaim, arching my back as he goes back to sucking on my clit. He rolls it between his teeth softly, causing a little pain to mix with the pleasure. "Please, please, give me your cock. Fuck me, please." I plead, causing him to chuckle against me, sending vibrations all over my body. "Mikey, I am begging you. Enough foreplay. I need you." I stutter, trembling as he continues his sweet, sweet torture.

He swirls his tongue between my folds, moving his tongue slowly. I hate him for what he is doing oh so well. "Please, daddy. I'll do whatever you want. Please." I beg one last time, throwing out my final hope. His shoulders move in satisfaction before he kisses his way away from my core. He still pumps his fingers inside me, while his other hand works on freeing his cock from his clothes. He doesn't stop brushing my spot with his fingertips until they get replaced by his throbbing length. He thrusts deep inside me, holding onto my legs and pushing them closer to my chest to gain deeper access to my sex. My stomach rises and falls as I take him, whining at how good he feels inside me. "What, princess? I thought you wanted my cock? Now you are whining?" He asks cockily. My gaze falls on the way his cock thrusts in and out of me, which makes me mesmerized, totally indulged in the sight. "No, no... It feels good. It feels too good." I reply, bringing my hand to my face and biting onto it. He pulls it away from my face, pinning it by the side of my face. "You can scream all you want, baby. No one is going to complain." He smirks, bringing my other hand over my head and pinning it there along with the other. "The whole weekend with you, fucking me, sleeping next to me, spending all the time with me. I can just cum by the thought alone." I whimper, bucking my hips on his. "I know, baby. It makes me lose it too. Just thinking about sleeping in the same bed with you for 3 nights in a row... Fuck." He hisses, pounding in me harder. I shriek, pulsing around him, the need to grip onto him becoming bigger with each thrust. "It feels right. All of this feels right. I love you. Fuck, I love you so much... Oh, do that again." I rumble, toes curling and body arching completely off the carpet. "I love you too, dove. But I need you to stop moving your body so I can fuck you properly." He orders, putting his weight on me to stop me from moving. He still fucks me hard, fast, restlessly. He puts his all in every thrust, gasping as he moves against me. My hands twitch, trying to grip onto anything, really, but without any success. "Mikey, I might... Fuck, I wanna cum." I press my lips together, face tensing as I get closer and closer to my high. "Yeah, I can feel you, princess. Go ahead, cum for me (Y/N)... Cum around me, pretty girl." He encourages me, letting go of my hands. I instantly reach for his biceps, raking my nails down his skin, leaving red stripes on his arms. "Fuck." He hisses, giving me the strongest pound yet. My eyes roll back and I become undone, screaming in pleasure at the top of my lungs. It is like pure ecstasy running inside my veins, making my whole body alert, sensitive to his touch. "Baby... You are milking me dry..." He hisses, grasping my face and making me look at him. "Are you going to cum inside me, daddy? Are you going to fill me up?" I ask, gasping for air. My orgasm is only becoming intenser as he thrusts inside me in pursue of his own high. "If you call me daddy again, I might." He says through gritted teeth, making me smirk at him. "Daddy..." I moan, causing him to growl before cumming inside me after 2 short thrusts.

He is a sweaty, gasping mess as he collapses by my side. I look at the flames in the fireplace as I lay my head on his chest, feeling my body totally relaxed. "Well, Mrs. Clifford... What is in that pretty mind of yours?" Michael asks me as he kisses the top of my head. "Nothing. For the first time in a while, I have nothing to think of. Everything just... flows." I reply, tracing my fingers down his chest. "Well, to be honest, I am thinking of what to have for breakfast." He states and I chuckle, pressing a kiss on his collarbone. "Now I am thinking about that too... Definitely something loaded with cheese. Preferably Parmesan cheese." I suggest and he hums. "We will ask at the reception what's the perfect breakfast place in the area." He says, stroking my back. "Maybe we can go hiking after breakfast. And find a little store to buy stuff for dinner. I wanna cook for you..." I offer and he smiles. "We should do that." He murmurs. I cup his jaw, bringing my lips to his before sitting up and slipping my babydoll on. I pick up our glasses, leaving his on the floor by him as he pulls his sweats on. "I am famished. I need those crackers and cheese asap." I smile, taking a sip from my wine. "Did I wear you down, princess?" He asks, with a cocky smirk on his lips. "I could do this all night, pretty boy. I just need to fill up." I shrug and he hums.

Morning comes and I wake up in Michael's hug, which seems to be my happy place since I just woke up with the biggest smile on my face. He is still asleep, his lips parted as he snores softly. The sun hits the bed from the little circular window above it, making the bed a lot warmer now. I like to pretend that this is my everyday life, that every morning I get to wake up next to him, that we live in this cabin, and we make love by the fireplace, and no one else but us exists. But I know Monday will come and I will return home, to a man I don't love and doesn't love me, to a life I despise, to a life which sole happiness is my weekly meetings with the only man who loves me more than I love him.

It is no time to be sad, however. I have the whole weekend to take advantage of the fact I am Mrs. Clifford, live in my little fantasy. "Mr. Clifford..." I sing, trying to wake Michael up. "Mr. Clifford. Wake up..." I nudge him softly, straddling his waist as he stirs a little, groaning in his sleep. "Mr. Clifford, your wife is hungry, she needs you awake." I say softly, making him smile as he opens one eye. "My wife..." He says groggily, smiling at me. "Your wife. Me... I am registered as Mrs. Clifford for the weekend." I explain and he hums. "I would pay all my fortune for this to be real." He says, still between sleep and awareness. "It is real, and your very real wife is really, really hungry. So, up and let's get going." I suggest and he hums. "Can we stay in bed a little longer?" He asks, taking my hand in his. "No, I am hungry, Mikey. I've been up for half an hour now. And I need to fill my stomach. Please..." I pout, earning a groan from him. "Ok, go get ready. We will go get some breakfast, then hiking, as my lady requested last night, and then shopping for dinner. Dress warmly. Can't say no to my wife, can I?" He asks, sighing in defeat. "I don't think you can." I lean down, planting a kiss on his lips before getting up from the bed.

"Ah, Mr. And Mrs. Clifford... Up so early?" The lady from the front desk greets us as we enter the reception. "Oh, the wife is starving. We were wondering where in the area we could go for breakfast." Michael replies, running his thumb over my hip softly. "And any places we could go for a hike after breakfast? This scenery is worth exploring..." I comment and she hums softly. "I will give you a map of the area. There is a diner near a hiking trail, you will need to take your car and leave it there, but the hiking trail starts right after the diner. Here." She replies, marking the map for us before handing it to me. "Thank you." We say in unison, taking a look at the map.

I cradle the mug of hot chocolate in my hands while curling up on the little couch of our booth. "Why do you have to look so precious?" Michael asks me, leaning his face on his hands. "Someone has to..." I shrug, smirking at him. "Why do I sense that something changed?" He asks me, making me look at him with furrowed eyebrows. "What do you mean?" I ask him back, tilting my head at him. "Since we arrived... Something is different on you." He points out. "I don't know, Mikey. It might be... I was thinking last night, while you were sleeping. I will send the contracts to a friend of mine, ask him to weight in on the clause. There must be something. I don't want to live like that anymore, Michael. I will try to fix this, anyway I can." I state, making him smile at me. "Let's drink to that." He brings his cup to cling against mine.

The food is slowly cooking in the kitchen; I have at least 30 minutes until I will have to check if it is ready, so I grabbed my book and a glass of wine and head to the little balcony of the cabin. I am wrapped in a linen scarf, trying to protect myself from the chill that has covered the area since the sunset. "You are having second thoughts..." Michael comments, walking out in the balcony with me. "What? About what?" I ask as he takes a seat on the chair by my side. "About the house by the sea, with the big garden. You are thinking about a mountain house now, a little bit like this cabin." He states and I hum. "Well, it would be nice to have a little cabin. But just for me and you to escape in. The children will have to stay back to the house by the sea, with your parents to take care of them for the weekend. The cabin will be for me and you, a hidden little secret." I reply, reaching to take his hand in mine. "I love it." He mumbles, leaning in to press his forehead against mine. "I know you do." I breathe out, closing my eyes as I stay there, motionless, my forehead pressed against his as my hand leaves my book to travel to his cheek.

"Will I be seeing you this weekend?" Michael asks as I fix the buttons of my blouse. He is still naked, lying in bed with only the bedsheet covering just a bit of his body. "I wish. Saturday Edward is taking me to some investors' dinner. And Sunday, we are going to have lunch with the parents." I sigh, leaning down to kiss his lips. "I'll see you at dinner. I am going to be there..." He smirks, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. "Oooh... I am going to wear something nice then... Just for you." I reply, seconds before he pulls me in for a kiss again. "Can't wait to see you..." He mumbles against my lips, making me smile. "Will you lock the door after leaving?" I ask him, pulling away from him to continue getting dressed. "I always do, don't I?" He sighs, still staring at me. "Mikey... Don't be sad, please... You'll see me at dinner. And then next week, Friday as usual." I coo at him, earning a chuckle from him. "I miss our little cabin in the woods. I wish we could go back..." He pouts, making me sigh happily. "We will." I assure him, throwing him a smile. "Call me when you make it home, ok darling?" He asks me and I nod. "Of course, baby. I always do." I reply, leaning down for one last kiss.

The investors' dinner turned out to be way more interesting than lunch with the parents. Both families gathered in my parents' house, so the place is filled with obnoxious laughs and non-sense chatter. I hate it here, to the point it makes me sick to my stomach. The sight of the food on the table makes my stomach turn, a horrible taste crawling up my throat. "(Y/N), sweetheart... Are you alright? You look a little pale." My mother-in-law comments, making me whimper under my breath. "Too much champagne at the dinner last night... Why don't you go get some air, sweetheart?" Edward snarks, patting my thigh. I wince at his touch but cover it with a smile. "Maybe I should... Excuse me for a second..." I excuse myself, actually thankful for Edward's suggestion for once. I stand up from my chair and take a couple of steps before the room starts spinning and I collapse on the floor.

The smell of alcohol brings me back to my senses and I open my eyes to find everyone over my head. I am confused and disoriented, and I taste this metallic taste in my mouth. "Good... Let's get her to the car." My dad instructs and I am picked up, carried towards the front door. No one is talking, not while I am taken in the car nor during the drive to the hospital. And I decided that staying silent is the best thing I can do, at least until I exclude the possibility that the thought I have in my head since I was taken in the car.

I am seated on the Emergency pit, in one of the beds while some doctors take my vitals. "I will need you to give a urine sample." The doctor says, handing me a little cup. "We will take you to the OBGYN department. They will handle your case from now on." The doctor helps me off the bed, and I bite the inside of my cheek. "Please don't inform my family yet." I plead and the woman smiles at me. "I don't have anything to inform them on just yet." She replies, guiding me towards the OBGYN exam room.

I hand the nurse the urine sample, bouncing on my feet as she dips a strip inside the cup. We only wait for a couple of minutes for the test to show my results, but it is the longest I had to wait for anything in my life. "Doctor, we will need an ultrasound." The nurse announces, making a shiver run down my spine. I feel heat crawl up my face, my throat going dry as she doctor gestures toward the exam table. She gives me a paper gown to change into for my ultrasound, which I stare at for more than it is normal. "Sweetie, I need you to change." The doctor says softly. I nod my head and move behind the divider, changing into the gown.

Once I am on the bed, the doctor preps me for the ultrasound. "I will have to go transvaginally." She gives me a heads up to which I nod. "I know. Go ahead." I reply, fixing my gaze on the screen. It makes me feel some discomfort, only for a little, like every other time I have had an examination. The doctor twists the prob a little, fixing her eyes on the screen. "I would say you are six weeks far. Does that sound right based on your last period?" She asks me, while I look at the little bubble on the screen. "Yes... It does." I reply, smiling softly at the picture. Six weeks ago, I was in that little cabin with Michael, away from everyone, in our own little safe world. It sounds right that I got pregnant that weekend. "I suggest going to your regular doctor for a thorough check, but for now I can tell you that everything seems alright." She replies, taking the bubble's measurements. "Do I need to look at for anything right now?" I ask her as she turns off the machine. "Your doctor will tell you more. But I suggest you stay calm and watch what you are eating. If you are a smoker, consider cutting it, same goes with alcohol." She suggests and I hum. "Thank you. I will go get dressed." I smile at her, moving behind the divider.

"Love... Oh, you made me so happy today..." My dad is the first to hug me, making me panic at the realization they were told about my results. "They told you already?" I mumble. "They told me, my love. And I was so excited not to share the news with them... You are going to make me a father." Ed says cockily, giving me a look I can only translate as threatening. "Of course he told us. I can't wait to tell the whole company I am going to be a grandfather..." My dad cheers. "Maybe we shouldn't announce it yet. I mean, I am pretty early into the pregnancy, I don't want to jinx it." I rush to let out, causing everyone to gasp approvingly. "Of course, darling." Edward's father agrees, making Edward hum. "Of course. We wouldn't want anything to go wrong with our precious little baby." He smirks at me, making chills run down my spine. "We should all go celebrate." My dad is looking at me excitedly. "Father, if you allow it, I would like to take my wife back home. She needs rest and I want to spend some time with her." Edward steps in, wrapping his arms around my waist. I nearly puke, disgusted by his touch but also scared of the moment I will be alone with him. "The parents-to-be need some time together. Go. We will see you next weekend, for lunch. I am not taking no for an answer." My dad insists, making Ed chuckle.

The ride back to the house was silent, with Ed speeding up at times to scare me. I know that the silence won't last long, and I dread that moment. I am not only scared for myself, but the baby inside me as well. We walk into the house and he pulls me straight to the bedroom, dragging me by my arm. "6 weeks ago you told me you were with that classmate of yours... You were with him, weren't you?" He growls at me, forcing me to sit on the ottoman at the end of his bed. "I don't know what you are talking about..." I mumble and he chuckles. He looks like a mad person, making my heart skip a beat. "I am not an idiot, (Y/N). I've only fucked you once and it has been months since, nearly half a year. It's that Clifford dude, isn't it? You've been fucking around with him, and you were both stupid enough to get knocked up." He screams at my face. "Why do you care? You got what you wanted from me." I stand up, trying to walk out of the room. He grabs me by my arm, jerking me back to him. "You are hurting me." I protest and he chuckles. "I've let you do whatever you wanted until now. Now, listen to me. That bastard inside you is the best gift you could give me. Your father will be wrapped around my finger for giving him a grandchild. So, you break up with your little boy toy, he never finds out the mutt is his, or else I will destroy his life. I will make him so miserable, I will make him curse the day he met you." He says through gritted teeth, letting go of my arm violently. "You have a week to break up with him. Or else..." He threatens, tapping the underside of my chin. "Go... You need to rest." He orders, practically shoving me out of the door. I gasp as lock myself in my room, finally letting myself break down. I don't know what to think, or how to feel, or how to react to all of this. My mind is blank, totally empty at the moment. All I know is that I will protect this baby until my last breath. And that I will not let Edward hurt the only person I ever loved.

Friday came and I made it to the apartment way before Michael, in a way trying to practice what I want to tell him.

In my head, it makes no sense. But Edward always gets what he wants, so he will keep his word and destroy Michael if I don't comply with him. Punctual to the appointment, Michael unlocked the door at 7:30. He has the biggest smile on his face the moment he sees me lounging on the couch. "Baby, you are here already." He cheers, walking towards me. "I brought dumplings from your favorite place. Wanna start eating?" He asks me, lifting the bag to show me the food. "Michael, we need to talk." I pat the empty spot on the couch for him. He becomes more serious, leaving the bag on the coffee table. "What is it, love? Is everything ok?" He asks me, placing his hand on my thigh. "I've never loved anyone or anything more than I love you." I take his hand in mine, making him smile at me. "I know that, love. And I do too. I would do anything for you." He replies. "That's why we need to break up. I am trapped, but you don't have to be. I want you to move on with your life, find someone who is going to give you everything I can't." I state, making him sigh. "We have been through the same discussion before. I don't want anyone but you." He assures me but I shake my head. "Michael, this time I am serious. I want you to move on. I want you to go ahead and have a family, I want you to find a love that's going to make your dreams come true. I want you to build the house by the sea with the big garden for your wife and children, and the cabin in the woods for a little retreat. I want you to have 4 children and a bunch of dogs. I want you to grow old with someone you love and loves you back. I can't give you that. I am sorry." I tear up as I bring the words out of my mouth. Michael sniffles, shaking his head. "No. I don't care about all that. I want to be with you, this is enough for me." He insists, making my stomach hurt. "I thought you would take advice from a friend on the contract... I thought you wanted to fix this." He mumbles and I close my eyes, taking deep breaths. "I can't, Michael. I can't change things. Please, don't make this harder than it is. We can't get out of this. Well, I can't. But you still can. You can get out, you can build a life. Please. It's over for us." I sob, making him breathe out disappointed. "I'll leave. Since that's what you want. But I love you. And I will continue loving you. No matter what, forever." He murmurs as he tries not to break down crying before my eyes. He leans down to peck on my forehead, making my bottom lip quiver. I want to cry, beg him not to go. But I know that if I do, Edward is going to ruin his life. I watch him leave the key to my apartment on the table before he turns to walk out the door. I feel horrible, the worst I have ever felt in my life for breaking his heart and letting him down, but it is for the best. "Your father is a wonderful man. And he would love you so much if he knew you exist." I breathe out, placing my hand on my stomach. I grit my teeth and close my eyes, trying to calm myself down; stress is one of the forbidden things while I carry little peanut inside me. I reach for the bag on the table, picking the paper box out and opening it to dig in the dumplings. At least I get to eat my feelings away before returning home.

Edward is sitting on the couch, waiting for me to walk in. He has the sliest smile on his face, which gives me a headache already. "Your sweetheart just quit. Through email... Very unprofessional if you ask me. We are having a meeting Monday morning to appoint a new CEO... Guess who's the strongest candidate... The only candidate, actually. I love that bastard already." He cheers as I walk in, making my face scrunch up as I feel vomit crawling up my throat.

I have never felt as alone as I felt on the day I gave birth to my son. My parents and Edward's parents were there, along with Edward of course, who played the happy father and the loving husband, but the only person I longed for was absent, still in ignorance of our son's existence. I really dreamt of Michael just barging in the delivery room and holding my hand, even though I knew he wouldn't since he knew nothing. Since the day he quit from the company, he nearly vanished from the face of Earth, no one really knows where he left for. We named the baby Philip; at least Ed let me pick up the name. Philip sounds royal, fitting the little guy who as he grows he looks more and more like his father. Philip was and still is the only reason I am holding on. Edward stopped caring the moment he got the position he craved, only putting on the facade of the warm family guy whenever any of our parents were present, or someone he needed to impress. And Philip seems to not get along with anyone but me, always clinging to me. And to be honest, I am not letting him go, holding onto him all day long. I don't trust Ed; he seems disinterested, and at least for now he is not mistreating us, but I just can't trust that he will always be like that.

The two-year-old is fast asleep in my hug when my phone rings. I hope and pray he won't wake up as I reach for the coffee table to pick up my phone. I don't recognize the number, which makes me furrow; I don't get calls from people anymore, so this seems strange. "Hello?" I ask as I press the accept button. "It's me." I could recognize that voice amid a thousand others. I bite my bottom lip, leaving Philip carefully on the couch so he can continue sleeping while I talk. "I am in town for a few days. I really want to see you." Michael says after a moment of silence. "Michael..." I protest, seriously putting on an effort to turn him down once more. "Please. Just for an hour." He begs. I want to see him, for 3 years now since he's left, I have been dying to know how he is. "Where?" I ask him, giving in to my desire. "The penthouse. Tonight, at 8." He instructs. How does he know that I still have that house? "Just for an hour." I mumble, making him hum. "See you tonight." He replies before hanging up.

I can't stop myself from shaking in jitters, my body filling with anxiety. I haven't heard from him for 3 years, 3years that he could have followed my advice, gotten married, had children, bought my dream house for someone else. I am scared; I am scared that I will see him and he will tell me about his new family, or that I will admit we had a child. And that secret being revealed might cost him everything.

At 9, I unlock the door to my old penthouse. I haven't been here in years, but I paid for it getting cleaned twice a month, so it looks decent enough for two old lovers to meet. I know that the moment I see him, I will die inside, my stomach will fill with butterflies, and I will crave to be touched by him. And the knowledge I can't have him pains me, makes my head hurt. The ring of my doorbell makes me more anxious than before. He is here, behind this door. The love of my life is just milliseconds away from me. I open the door, revealing Michael who smiles at me. He looks better than ever, grown, more mature. And I feel my heart beating fast, my palms sweating. "I didn't think you would actually be here." He comments, walking further inside the house. "I said I would." I mumble. "You look great, my love." He comments, scanning me down. "You look... Well, I can't put it in words. But time treated you right." I smile, taking a deep breath. "Come sit. I won't bite, I promise. Well, only if you ask me to..." He says cockily.

I take a seat on the couch, keeping two cushions empty between us; I know it will be futile if I succumb, but for now, this limits me. "So, where were you all these years?" I ask, running my hands down my thighs to straighten my dress. "I left the night we broke up. Of course, you knew that. I had many job offers but I was staying here for you. So, when I lost you, I had nothing keeping me here. With the money I had in my account and the money I made from my job, I bought shares in the start-up company I was working on. Now I am the CEO and a shareholder. Pretty solid position if you ask me. The first few months after I left were difficult, I am not going to lie, but I managed to get through. I bought a house, overlooking the sea, with the biggest garden I could find. And I bought a cabin in the woods, made it just like the one we stayed at during that trip. I bought them in my name. But they will be titled as yours after you divorce Edward. Unless you prefer me passing them to Philip, our son." He says, pushing an envelope towards me. I gasp and look at him in shock, making him reach to take my hand in his. "You know?" I ask him and he nods. "I still have friends in the company. They told me your father threw this big party to announce it. I did the math... You got pregnant in the cabin, didn't you?" He asks me and I nod. "I couldn't tell you. He threatened me, he told me he would ruin your life." I begin explaining but he hushes me. "I know. Well, I suspected it. I battled with myself not to come and get you the moment I found out. But I knew I had to build a life for us, put us in a position where no one would be able to hurt us. So I did, and I hated every moment I wasn't with you and our baby. I hated every moment I imagined Edward holding our son." He groans, and I chuckle, wiping away my tears. "He didn't. He didn't care about us after he took your place. And Philip pretty much hates him, he cries hysterically every time Edward picks him up. And he only does when he needs to sell the image of the loving father and devoted husband." I reply and he chuckles. "I took the contract to a lawyer. She said that since you followed all the clauses, you can get a divorce from him without affecting the deal. The merge holds and you are free." Michael explains. "He will give us hell. And take us to the court about Philip." I point out. "Baby, you are a lawyer. Think about it. We will have a DNA test, prove Philip is mine. And he won't do shit. He knows that a court battle will harm him. He forced you to marry him, he abused you. He knows it won't look good on him. Nothing and no one is going to hurt us, baby. Not anymore, I won't allow it. Run away with me. Get our baby and run away with me." He says, moving closer to me to cup my face. "I was so scared that you would have gotten married, moved on as I suggested. So, so scared..." I mumble, feeling my cheeks become wet with tears. He presses his forehead against mine, stroking my cheeks and wiping away the tears. "Not yet, baby. You have to get divorced for me to get married. I had children, though. One, to be exact. Philip, who I can't wait to meet and hold in my arms." He whispers, making me chuckle softly.

Michael was right; Edward didn't say a word when I took Philip and packed my things. I filled for the divorce and Michael started the process to recognize our baby as his, the exact same day. Edward pretended to be deceived and heartbroken, to get everyone's good grace, but he didn't fight for custody. Everything was solved before Philip even turned 3. My parents practically disowned me after everything, which I didn't care much about. I didn't want a claim in a fortune that was built and grown on my unhappiness. Plus, (Y/N) Clifford sounds dreamy. The house by the beach surpassed all expectations. It has this vintage vibe that I love, with the prettiest garden ever, in which Philip and Michael run around all day on the weekends. I am pretty sure Philip doesn't understand much, so I will have to explain more when he grows up, but he adores Michael and calls him daddy, which makes Michael melt in a puddle.

I work with Michael now, in the legal department of the company, which is something that I couldn't do before since Edward wanted me to be a trophy wife. I have a pretty office with a view, friendly colleagues. But honestly, the best thing is working with Michael, getting to spend more time with him every day. We even got married, in a small vineyard, with a few people present, mostly his family and a couple of coworkers. It was magical, the best day of my life, truly. It's just me and him that matters. Philip also, of course. But everyone from my past seems to be muted, almost deleted.

And now I am sitting on the warm grass, with the sun hitting on my face and our dog laying on my lap, while Michael and Philip are dressed as superheroes, playing around, with Michael lifting Philip in the air to fly. He is an amazing dad already, and I can't wait to see him grow more into this role. "Hey, superheroes... Snack time. And you both need sunscreen." I shout at them, making Michael giggle. "Let's fly to mama... Come on." Michael cheers, running to me with Philip in his arms. He lets Philip on the blanket, making the toddler giggle. I hand him his cheese sandwich, planting a kiss on his forehead before standing up. "Hi, mama," Micheal mumbles as he helps me up. "Hi, daddy." I reply, cupping his jaw in my hands. "I am trying to make him tired and get him to bed early tonight..." He wiggles his eyebrows at me, making me chuckle at him. "I have my money on Philip spending you down before you do." I reply, tracing the hem of his cape. "We need to give him a sibling... Maybe a little sister." He mumbles, lifting my chin. "Yeah, that doesn't sound that bad, to be honest." I sigh, smirking at him. "Maybe we should go to our little cabin this weekend... Mommy and daddy retreat." He suggests, earning a hum from me. "It's been a while since the last visit." I cock an eyebrow at him. "Sounds to me like it is time for another trip there, Ms. Clifford." He licks his lips, leaning closer to kiss me.

My Masterlist

[nethandrake]

The Friendversary

stevetony. mcu. rated t. werewolf!steve & vampire!tony au. 2.3k words.

also on ao3.

*****

Tony barely registers the voice calling his name. He should roll over, get out of bed, and check. It could be an emergency. Hell, maybe the apartment’s on fire or they’re in the midst of being robbed.

But then, he could just keep his eyes closed and stay in bed. He can’t remember the last time he got a decent day of sleep. To take that away from him is daylight robbery.

Besides, Steve can handle things. Steve with the broad shoulders with arms that could probably bench press Tony if he asked. Steve who could tear limbs apart as easy as breathing because he’s a freaking—

“—ony. Rise and shine!”

But of course like everything in life, Tony could never get things his way.

He lets out a grunt, moving to cover his ears with his pillow. “Ugh, go away.”

Unsurprisingly, the pillow is yanked out from under him. His head hits the mattress with a soft thump, a quiet groan tumbling out of his lips.

“Tony,” the voice says, much more insistent and familiar.

Goddamn dog.

“Fuck off. It’s morning.”

“The sun just set, actually.”

As if by magic, some of the grogginess Tony feels dissipates. He cracks an eyelid open, meeting a pair of perfectly blue eyes and a perfectly cheery smile and a big dopey mug. It's a sight Tony never, ever wants to be greeted with this early in the night.

“I hate you.”

Steve smirks, leaning against his doorway with his arms across his chest. “You say this now but wait ‘till I drink all your blood.”

“You don’t drink blood.”

“I might. Just to give it a go.”

Tony scoffs, motioning to sit on the edge of his bed. “That’s what you said six decades ago,” he says, rubbing the rest of the sleep from his eyes. “And what happened after?”

Steve scowls. “You’ll never let that go, huh?”

“I would if you’d stop threatening me about it.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Well, you can nag me about it later,” Steve says, detaching himself from the doorframe. “Meet me up on the rooftop.”

Tony frowns. “Rooftop? Why are we—”

That’s when he notices Steve’s getup – a dress shirt that brings out the silver in his eyes, slacks, and a pair of ankle socks. His typical tousled hair is slicked back. Tony’s pretty sure it’s gelled.

Steve doesn’t dress up often and since they’re meeting up on the rooftop, that could only mean one thing.

His lips twist into a smirk, taking a couple of steps backwards. He probably noticed Tony forgot, the bastard.

“C’mon, Tony,” he says in a sing-song voice. “We’re burning moonlight.”

Tony rolls his eyes, flinging the covers off his body. “I’ll be there. Don’t worry your pretty little head about me being— What?”

Steve startles, tearing his gaze away from Tony’s…body?

“Nothing!” he exclaims, his voice a couple of decimals higher than usual. “I just— Yeah.”

Tony couldn’t help but snort as Steve zips away. Sometimes, Steve would be reduced to a stuttering mess out of the blue for no explainable reason. There might be an explanation though if Steve doesn’t wear scent blockers.

Then again, so does Tony. He shouldn’t be annoyed with Steve doing the same. It’s only natural to wear them since they're living in a city mostly populated by humans.

Tony takes his time in the shower, getting dressed, and styling his hair. If anyone could see him right now, they'd probably think about how ridiculous he's being, how effort he's wasting. It’s dinner with Steve, after all. Tony could be wearing a rucksack and Steve wouldn’t even bat an eye.

To be fair, today's their anniversary. The occasion is basically screaming for cologne and hairspray.

“Time flies huh,” Tony mutters to himself as he fastens his cape around his neck. “Five hundred goddamn years.”

It’s a miracle that they’ve lasted this long as friends, let alone best friends, and roommates. He can’t imagine if they actually did something dumb like date each other. They probably would’ve only lasted a month or two. Maybe a year, at most.

Or maybe if you actually tried shooting your shot—

Tony shakes his head as he unlocks his balcony door and steps outside. There’s no point dwelling on that right now or ever, even. Steve’s a werewolf. And werewolves wouldn’t be wasting time on giving people like Tony a second glance. They’d be focused on finding mates.

Mates who’d be furry and smelly and enjoy roaming around in the woods for the rest of eternity. Not bloodsucking nocturnals who fly around and live in graveyards.

Not that Tony is living in a graveyard right now, but the notion still stands. They’ve been going strong for five hundred years. Why try ruining things?

Steve’s already on the rooftop, sitting on a picnic blanket with a basket by his side. He flashes Tony a broad grin, all canine and bright. In all his six hundred and eleven years of living, Tony’s never seen such a beautiful person be this dorky.

“You do know there’s a perfectly functioning elevator, right?” Steve drawls out as Tony lands on the edge of the rooftop.

Tony shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? I need to stretch my legs. Plus, it’s more fun to scare the humans.”

“Yeah. If you’re into endangering the whole mythical community.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He sweeps his cape behind him, spreading his hands. “Well, how do I look?”

Steve pauses, his eyes roaming around, drinking Tony in. “You look… You look…”

“I better looking dashing,” Tony interrupts. “You know me and mirrors. I wouldn’t have asked you if—”

“You definitely do,” Steve interrupts, a little too earnest than Tony deems necessary. “You look beautiful.”

There’s an odd intensity behind Steve’s blue, blue eyes. Tony makes a mental note to reexamine that later.

“So,” he begins, breaking the silence as he settles down next to Steve, “what’d you got for us tonight?”

They usually take turns getting dinner together. While Tony leans towards more expansive and refined options, Steve’s tastes are much simpler. This year, he's opted for burgers and fries for himself and a homemade blend of cow’s blood, pomegranate, and strawberries for Tony. Just the sight of the crimson liquid being poured into his wine glass has Tony salivating.

“Well,” Steve begins, raising his bottle of lemonade in the air, “here’s to five hundred years of friendship.”

“And five hundred more,” Tony adds, clinking their drinks together. “Until you meet your mate, that is.”

Whenever Tony brings up the M-word, Steve freezes up. This time is no different.

“Tony—”

“I know you hate all the mate talk but as I said before—”

“Tony—”

“—I don’t think you’d want to spend the rest of your life—”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Steve interrupts, his time firmer. “Please?”

Tony sighs, taking a large gulp from his glass. He almost moans at the clash of flavors swirling around on his tongue. The irony of a werewolf brewing one of the best vampire drinks Tony’s ever tasted. “Alright, alright.”

Dinner goes without a hitch, after that. They fall back into their usual topics of conversation of work and friends, making sure to steer clear of any talk of romance and mates.

“You know,” Tony begins after the food has been cleared and they’ve finished a lapse of comfortable silence. “I always thought about how funny this is.”

“What?”

“This…” He gestures between the two of them. “This…thing. You know.”

Steve’s lips quirk to the side. “What? That we get along?”

“Not that. Although that has cropped up pretty often. I mean, us. Having an anniversary for our friendship. Like, who does that?”

“Carol and Maria do,” Steve points out.

“Yeah. And they started dating a couple of years after. Try again.”

“Does it matter?”

Tony sighs, waving his hand around. “I don’t know. I just— Isn’t this something you do with your mate?”

The smile on Steve’s face slides off. “Tony—”

“Or at least someone you’re attracted to. ‘Cause let me tell you, nothing kills the mood better than—”

“Tony!”

Immediately, Tony’s jaw clamps shut.

Steve’s shoulders sag but his blue eyes are still stormy with anger. “Jesus, Tony. I told you to drop it.”

“I know—”

“I don’t get why you’re so adamant about me finding a mate.”

Tony picks at the hem of his cape. “It’s been five hundred years, Steve. I just— Aren’t you lonely?”

“Why would I be lonely?” Steve asks, sounding puzzled. “I have you.”

If Tony still has a pulse, he’d be pretty sure it’ll be racing right now. “That’s different,” he says slowly. “We’re friends. Just friends. Friends with a capital ‘F’.”

A heavy silence shrouds them. For a moment, Tony feels stupid. Exposed. He shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, he really should’ve kept his mouth shut and—

“What if I don’t want to be friends.”

Wait, what?

“What if I want to be more than friends,” Steve continues, wringing his hands, his cheeks reddening with each passing second. “What if—”

“You want us to be mates?!”

If he isn’t a vampire, he probably would’ve chalked it up to him hearing things. Then again, being a vampire hasn’t stopped him from hallucinating and hearing things.

Steve winces, his whole face now turning crimson red. Hell, even the tip of his ears is a bright shade of blush. It’s goddamn adorable.

“Only if you want to,” he says. “I know we’ve never talked about it and I know you don’t feel the same way—”

Tony reaches out, curling his fingers around Steve’s wrist, putting a stop to his escape. Fortunately for him and his hand, Steve doesn’t fight him off.

“Woah, woah. What the hell do you mean I know?”

Steve frowns. “Don’t you?”

“No! ‘Course not.”

As quickly as it came, the color in Steve’s cheeks drains.

“Oh,” he breathes out, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought you knew. ‘Cause you know, super senses.”

Tony frowns, puzzled. “You wear scent blockers.”

“I don’t mask my heartbeat,” Steve counters. “C’mon. You’d had to know how it races when I’m around you—”

“That’s corny as fuck.”

“Just saying the truth, is all.”

“I—” Tony racks his brain, trying to recall something. Anything.

He comes up empty.

“I mean, I don’t have the best memory around—” Steve cocks an eyebrow. “What? You know I’m right!”

His lips tug to the side, staring at him with stark disbelief.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Cut me some slack, Steven. I’ve been dead for centuries. Excuse me for not remembering. I figured that was your regular heartbeat.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, what about you, huh?” Tony shoots back. “You had to know I’ve been drooling over you for four hundred and ninety-nine years!”

Steve’s eyes widen, his lips parting. It’s times like these that the vampire that turned Tony all those centuries ago actually sucked him dry.

“Fuck,” he groans, burying his face in his hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not—”

“Someone kill me—”

“You’re already dead.”

“I know,” Tony moans. “Fuck. I can’t believe you’re attracted to a corpse. A fucking corpse!”

Steve snorts, mischief lacing his tone. “I don’t know. You look pretty lively to me.”

“Shut up. This isn’t funny, Rogers,” Tony mutters before lifting his head up. “Do you really want to shackle yourself to me for another five hundred years?”

Steve deepens his grin, a grin that Tony could only describe as wolfish. “I mean, we’ve gotten this far, haven’t we?”

“I guess. But we’d be together. In a relationship. Until you get sick and tired of me—”

“I won’t,” Steve insists like the dumbass he is. “Like I said before, we’ve gotten this far.”

“Yeah?”

He gets a kiss in answer.

Steve’s lips are soft and warm against him. Tony can’t remember the last time he’s felt this good, this thrilled, this warm.

He doesn’t know how long this goes on, losing track of time and himself into this moment, into finally. It’s only that when they do pause for Steve to catch his breath, Tony realizes he’s in Steve’s lap, his thighs clamping Steve in place and his cape pooling at his feet.

“You taste of wet dog,” he murmurs.

“And you taste of blood,” Steve breathes, tightening his grip on Tony’s waist and god, Tony wants. He wants and needs everything.

“That gonna be a problem?”

“Nope. Not in the slightest.” He sighs against his lips and fuck, he is warm and he smells faintly of pine and vanilla – a combination Tony never thought could make him weak in the knees. He can’t imagine how overwhelming it’ll be when the scent blocker fades away.

“I can’t believe we wasted five hundred years,” Steve continues. “We could’ve had— We could’ve been—”

“Could’ve been mates?”

He blinks, his smile flickering. “I mean, only if you want to. You don’t—”

“Have I forgot to mention that I’ve been in love with you for four hundred and ninety-nine years?” Steve opens his mouth but Tony cuts him off. “And before you ask, no, I don’t care what people think about us. People have been assuming for years, anyway.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Steve says. “I was actually going to say I’ve been in love with you for four hundred and ninety-nine years and five months. So.”

Tony cocks an eyebrow. “And you say I’m stupid for a genius all the time.”

“I mean, I am a dumb dog.”

“A dumb dog who chose a bloodsucker as his mate.”

Steve scowls. “Hey. That’s my bloodsucker you’re talking about.”

Tony hums as he snakes his hands around Steve’s neck. “This bloodsucker is also in the mood to suck something else.”

“That was terrible.”

“Please. You love it.”

Steve grins as he tilts his head forward. “Guess I do.”

[ramblinganthropologist]

Fictober 21 - 2 “You have no proof”

I’m not tagging this one. It’s heavy.

Fanfic

Fandom: Inquistion

Summary: Withdrawal is hard. Dealing with that and his feelings is even harder for Owain Trevelyan. He doesn’t feel ready for this kind of thing. But maybe he doesn’t have to be. Maybe he just has to start.

(Warnings: mentions of withdrawal, child abuse, and homophobia.)

---

Another day, another pile of horse shit. Yet, somehow, still better than being a Templar. Life was funny that way.

Owain sighed in relief as he left the stable behind, body sore and mind tired. It had been a long day of taking care of the horses, punctuated by the fact he was actually afraid of them. People tended to forget that. Or maybe they did remember, and this was their way of torturing them. The Inquisitor seemed like a nice guy, so it was more likely than not that nobody had told him. He was going to go with that, because the alternative wasn’t great.

“Right… better go clean off and get something to eat.”

His mind was swimming, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been in weeks prior. He still felt the need in the back of his mind, but today it was more of a whisper than an outright scream. Tomorrow, who knew, but he was going to take his victories where he got them. A day without lyrium was in his book as good as any.

He just wished getting through this didn’t hurt so damn much.

“Alright there, Trevelyan?”

A deep voice made his insides flutter. He felt his face heat as he turned towards the barn. In his griping over the body aches, Owain hadn’t noticed that he had company. Someone was standing in the entrance to the barn, a block of wood in hand.

“Oh… Warden Blackwell.”

The man shook his head as he kept carving. He stopped to watch him, curiosity getting the better of him. Woodwork was always something he had admired as a young man, but he’d never had time to learn. Now he was probably too old for it. Knowing his luck, he’d probably cut one of his fingers off, and there would he be?

Well… not like he needed all 10 to take care of horses, but he’d like to keep them all the same. He had enough problems.

“Just Blackwell is fine.” His knife rasped against the wood again and again. From the looks of things, maybe it was starting to become a bird? “Long day?”

Owain could barely hear him over the pounding of his heart. “Oh… yes. I suppose so. I should be fine after I eat something, though.”

The man’s eyes were on him, studying him. It was hard to breathe then as he wondered just what Blackwell was looking for. Did he suspect him of lapsing on his promise? Most people did… he couldn’t blame them for that.

He just wished this one hadn’t…

“Ask the healer for herbs for the pain.” He kept carving. “Overheard a few ex-recruits talking about it.”

There went his heart again, pounding like crazy. “I will… tomorrow. Right now, I just want food and my bed.”

There was Blackwell’s eyes on him again as he stopped carving. His stomach shifted, and for not the first time in his life he felt guilty for something he hadn’t done. Right then, he was nothing more than a schoolboy being scolded for a mess he hadn’t made.

It was kind of annoying.

He took a breath before he spoke. “I assure you… I have not lapsed.”

“I believe you.” Blackwell kept carving. “Be hard for a stable hand to get lyrium anyway, unless you’re friendly with the mages.”

His carving was turning less bird like by the second. It took Owain a second to realize it was becoming a griffin. Maybe he should’ve realized that one sooner – after all, the man was a Grey Warden. Griffins were kind of their thing.

But…

“That is quite true.” He frowned. “Forgive me if I was short…”

There he went again, apologizing. In those moments, he swore he could feel his father’s hand on him, and it was hard not to wince. Even years later, he found he couldn’t escape it. Maybe he never would be able to – talk about a legacy.

“You were defending yourself.” Blackwell finished carving. “Only natural, I suppose, given the hell you’re going through.”

He held his griffin up to the light. It was a fine thing, at least by Owain’s lack of knowledge, wings spread, and beak bared in what probably would have been a vicious scream if any lived to make a sound. It was a fierce little thing – he would’ve hated to see the full-size version. Or worse… shoveled its shit.

All things considered that probably would’ve been his job…

Much to his surprise, Blackwell left the barn and met him in the yard. Owain blinked back surprise as the griffin was placed into his dirty hands. That close, he could smell the other man – there was sweat there, but also wood and hay.

It… was a nice smell.

“Here. You looked like you could use it.”

And briefly, he smiled. It was a little hard to see with the beard, but he felt it nonetheless. His heart thudded to life once more as he watched the man walk back to the barn. In that moment, he forgot how to breathe as he looked down at his gift.

This was probably the point he should have said thank you, but he wasn’t sure how to work his tongue anymore.

At least he managed to nod his head as he sped off, clutching the carving close to his pounding chest. Owain didn’t slow down until he was all the way back in his room, away from prying eyes and clicking tongues. Then he slid to the floor, back against his door, staring at the little griffin he had placed on the floor.

Blackwell had made it for him.

“Oh, Maker.”

It took him a few moments to rise and make it to the wash basin, but his thoughts were of nothing of the Warden. Even the cold water left from that morning did nothing to dissuade him of images of Blackwell, his smile, his hands… everything.

He was acting like a bloody teenager…

“Get it together, Owain. You’re far too old for this.” He brushed back wet hair from his forehead, sighing as he studied his tired expression in the glass he had hung above it. Lyrium withdrawal had made him lose a bit more weight, and the dark circles under his eyes didn’t help matters. “Best to return to reality, my friend.”

The extra splash of water did nothing to help him other than to wash the stink off, but at least he was clean enough to go get some food without offending people. His griffin soon rested next to the basin, where it would no doubt guard his room while he was away. Then he shut the door behind him to head off.

Naturally, the Great Hall was a mad rush at mealtimes. He threaded among the crowd, keeping his eyes low as he made his plate. The lyrium withdrawal made it hard for him to eat, but he needed to if he wanted strength for tomorrow. At least the ale helped keep things down as he grabbed a mug and started to look for a place to sit. Much to his relief, he found a small spot off to the side. Away from others, he was content to sit.

And as soon as he did, his stomach began to turn.

“Fuck.”

The expletive slipped from between his lips, but thankfully no bile followed. Owain rode the sudden wave of nausea, shutting his eyes tightly. The light made things worse sometimes, he found. At least it would be over soon… and lucky for him, dinner wasn’t strong smelling. He definitely would’ve vomited if so.

Things were going his way for once.

As the nausea subsided, Owain allowed a shaky breath. When nothing came up, another followed. Soon, he could risk opening his eyes. The room was no longer spinning, which meant he definitely could risk trying to eat.

But… maybe a few minutes more, just to be safe.

“Now, now, it’s not polite to swear.”

A voice from off to the side drew his attention. He cocked an eyebrow at spotting a man dressed all in black, his face a grinning skull. Ian was doing better those days as well, though he still needed to put on a bit more weight. His robes were at least not hanging as loose as they had been.

Though, it didn’t explain why he was there…

“Can I…” His eyes widened as he realized there was another standing next to him, a woman in a long dress with a cloth wrapped around his forehead. “Oh… Aeronwen.”

His sister nodded stiffly. “Owain.”

The shock ran through him as they both sat across from him, placing their plates down. He was numb in the moment as all thoughts shut down. If either noticed, they didn’t care. They were too focused on eating.

Why now? And with him?

Ian answered that for him as he sipped from his mug, beaming in a none-too-friendly way. “So… I saw you getting awfully chummy with the Warden in the yard. Didn’t think you were into the big and hairy type.”

Owain’s heart stopped, and his mind reeled. “I… no you don’t…”

Aeronwen shook her head as she put down her fork. “We know you prefer men, Owain. So does Ian.”

“And Aery’s a big ol’ lesbian, so we’re the death of the Trevelyan line!” Ian laughed cheerfully, practically throwing his head back. “Well, besides any older siblings that had children… I guess that’s a fly in the butter.”

His heart was still struggling to start back up as he took in the information. On the bright side, he definitely wasn’t nauseous anymore. Downside… everything else. This definitely wasn’t a conversation he had been planning… well, ever. But it was happening, and he couldn’t exactly escape.

Fuck his need to be polite…

Ian seized upon his stunned silence and leaned in, grinning. “So… you and the Warden…”

His face heated as he glanced to the side. “I have no idea what you speak of Ian. We work in similar spaces and have chance to speak.”

And… sometimes he got presents…

“Looking like more than just speaking to me.” Aeronwen took a sip of her ale, grimacing. “Ugh, who brewed this, it tastes like rotten dirt.”

Her cousin chuckled. “Good to see you’re still an ale snob, Aery. It does my dark little heart good to hear you complain.”

“The stuff I make is miles better.” Her eyes were back on him, however. “But we’re getting off the subject. About your crush on the Warden…”

Another pang of panic shot through Owain’s system. Them knowing his attractions was one thing… implying he had feelings for Blackwell was another matter entirely. Maybe that was why he quickly rose to his feet, almost knocking his mug over in the process.

“I don’t…” he took a shaky breath to steady himself and his shaking hands. After that, it was a sip of ale to help his dry mouth. How it tasted like dirt, h had no clue – it didn’t matter then as he put it down with a still trembling hand. “You have no proof.”

Ian and Aeronwen exchanged looks, neither saying anything. It was impossible to tell what either was thinking then. However, he sank back down in his seat regardless. Shame was squirming in his stomach for so many things right then, he just couldn’t pick one.

On the bright side… no nausea?

“It’s not a big deal, you know. He seems interested.” Ian took a hearty sip from his mug. “Might as well go for it. Once you come off the lyrium withdrawal you’re going to be horny as fuck anyway.”

“Gross.”

“What, I heard an ex-recruit talk about it.”

None of their conversation registered with Owain. He was too busy staring blankly down at his plate, unable to think. Too many thoughts were racing through his mind; he couldn’t even think to grab one and settle on it as he wordlessly ate, mostly on instinct. If the pair noticed, they didn’t say anything.

In the end, he finished long before they did. Wordlessly, he got up from the table. Before long, he was leaving the hall. Right then, all he wanted was to find his bed and stay there until things made sense again. He would even take the aches in his body over this.

Fuck…

Maybe due to his inability to focus, he missed the sudden weight on his shoulders. Then it left him. He blinked and realized that someone was standing in front of him. Paper crinkled as they unwrapped a chocolate and popped it into their mouth, eyes glowing in the torchlight.

Jackel Lavellan. Just who he didn’t need.

“You should probably work on that whole shame thing. It’s going to cost you a chance at a good relationship.” She swallowed. “That, and all the work I did. It wasn’t easy getting you from creepy templar to mostly normal.”

He winced at the memory. “I thank you for the help but…”

The words died in his throat. A thousand things he could’ve said, but he just couldn’t get them out. In the end, he settled on silence. It was an old strategy, one he had mastered as a child. Once again, it was helping him.

How were they all so… casual about it?

Jackel nudged him forward – he moved without thinking. “He likes you. It’s why he made the griffin for you.”

Maybe if this had been a month prior, Owain would have been surprised. However, time and experience had taught him the elf knew everything hidden in Skyhold. For all he knew, she had been watching from a tree. She did that a lot – made it easier to jump on people.

Again, he would know – she had knocked him down a few times.

“I…”

He frowned. “I do not think I know what to do about any of this.”

The elf gave him a nudge forward; maybe on someone else it would have been a shove. Lucky for him, she was tiny. “Stop thinking about it with the big head and go with the little one. See where that leads you.”

Humorless laughter bubbled from his lips as Owain shook his head. “I can only see it leading to disaster.”

Where else could it lead? Even if it wasn’t Blackwell, it wasn’t like he had… experience… in these matters. The other man would expect him to know things he had no idea about. Just thinking about it made his stomach squirm, and the nausea returned.

Just the time to feel sick.

“Well, I don’t. And I know more than you.” She elbowed him in the side. “So, trust me and get that Warden already. He’s practically pining. It’s rude to make him wait.”

It was also rude to presume things… but Owain’s mind traveled back to the smile and the griffin resting in his room. Just thinking about them made his heart feel warm in a way he didn’t often allow. As much as it scared him, he wanted more. Right then, he wanted it more than his next breath.

But… to actually ask…

Jackel shoved him forward again. “Just do it. You don’t have to jump his bones on day 1 even, just get it going. Mythal’s tits, you’re slow.”

Get it going.

“I… think I could do that.”

She nodded at him, clearly pleased. “Good. And don’t forget to take a bath before you fuck. You don’t want to smell like horse shit. I doubt even he’s into that.”

Her bluntness brought the color to his cheeks, but at least he managed a nod. While the dark feelings still swarmed in his stomach, there was still the warmth that refused to leave even as they swarmed.

Maybe… he would stop by the barn. Just to talk. Nothing too serious yet. Just… starting things. If there was anything to start.

That thought may have been quiet, but something about it echoed through Owain’s body. For the first time in what felt like ages, his step was lighter as he started to walk again. While a weight still weighed him down, it was easier – almost manageable. Maybe with time, he would be free of it.

But… at least he was starting. And that was something. One small step was all it took to start, after all. Where it would take him, Owain wasn’t sure. All he knew was that it was in a new direction, one completely off the path planned for him. A step he had decided all on his own, tiny as it was.

He could get used to this sort of freedom. Now… what the hell was he going to say? They hadn’t exactly covered flirting with another man in etiquette lessons…

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 2](Part 2)

I’m going to go ahead and start a new thread. What’s been done of this story already is under the cut.

If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today.

Chapter 1

“Please?” the younger teenager said as he threw his arms around Logan in a hug. Logan gave him a disgruntled look when a stray arm bumped some of the papers on his desk and one that he’d been using fluttered to the ground.

“Patton, I have work to do.”

“You work all the time,” Patton pouted back at him.

“I’m the crowned prince,” Logan reasoned. “There is a lot for me to do.”

“You’re not even doing royalty business tonight,” Patton pointed out. “You’re just reading your book.”

“But I have to do some tomorrow and if I agree to a sleepover, we both know neither of us will sleep.”

“We’ll sleep, I promise!” Patton said.

Logan gave him a skeptical look. They had been having these sleepovers for a decade at this point and in none of them had Logan ever actually slept. On the contrary, Patton usually kept him up long enough that Logan was so tired he couldn’t fall asleep and then the boy himself would pass out leaving Logan to stare grumpily at the ceiling.

“Future Royal Advisor’s honor?” Patton tried, eyes hopeful. “Come on, we can play dress up.”

Logan glared at him. “I am 17 years old,” he reminded.

“I’ll do your hair,” he tempted. “I’ll even let you read a book while I do it.”

The look in his friend’s eyes and the fact that he really was quite good at hair started to weaken Logan’s resolve.

Patton, knowing him so well, saw his tenacity faulter and pitilessly pressed his advantage. “Mama made fresh cookies today,” he said. “They’re the ones with strawberry jam. We could sneak into the kitchen and steel some in the middle of the night.”

“Considering you are the head chef’s son and I am the prince, it would hardly be considered stealing.”

“But it’s more fun that way,” Patton argued with a laugh. “Come on, you need to have some fun. You’ve been stressed out lately.”

“This is fun,” Logan said with a frown, gesturing to the large book in front of him.

“I know,” Patton said, “but your brain has got to be tired from reading all of that Latin and Sand’s Kit.”

“Sanskrit.”

“Gazuntite.”

Logan sighed. “Why did father agree to make you the royal advisor in training?”

“Because he knows without me, you’ll send your entire life sitting at this desk reading your book.” Patton scrunched up his nose at him.

“I would also do my royal duties.”

“But sometimes you need to relax,” Patton said. Logan opened his mouth. “Really relax. No super encoded magical books that make me dizzy looking at them. We’re going to play dress up, eat cookies, and read silly books, and that’s final.”

“Oh, I’m being commanded, am I?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised. “You’re really going to try to command your prince? You’re lucky I don’t have you tossed into the dungeon.”

Patton hopped off the chair he’d pulled up to Logan’s desk and scrambled a few feet away. “You’d have to pull yourself away from your book to do that,” he said, sticking out his tongue at him.

Logan glanced down at his book. Reading the Pragilium text despite its difficulties had been his life’s work since he was a small child, and it was something he very much enjoyed, but he was tired from his duties and his lessons the last few weeks and not in the way he would be if he agreed to Patton’s sleepover. He looked up at Patton. He was shifting back and forth on his feet, a smile on his face. The book could wait.

Logan carefully closed his book and stood from his desk chair. Patton was already giggling before Logan lunged for him.

Patton was a lot more agile then Logan was himself and knew the castle just as well since he had been brought to live here when he was just starting to walk, yet he was clearly slowing his place so Logan would not lose him. They ran through familiar corridors, careful to not slam into the stationed guards as the slid around corners. They ran past the large window that gave the best view of the castle garden and Patton avoided the spiral staircase that would let out near the kitchen where his mother was currently preparing that night’s dinner. Instead, he made a dash through the smaller dinning hall, unused at this time because they had no important guests, and then hung right to bolt towards the wing with Logan’s own private quarters.

The guards that stood in front of the double doors to the private hall, stepped aside easily at Patton’s approach. Patton pushed through the doors and they swung shut behind him.

“Traitors,” Logan accused, shooting past them through the door himself.

The guards only seemed amused by his accusation.

“Help!” Patton yelped. His still light tone didn’t worry Logan that something was actually wrong, but it did make him wonder who he was speaking to. That became clear, however, when he noticed his father standing at the end of the hall outside the entrance to his own bedroom. Patton sprinted past Logan’s bedroom and directly at the king.

“What is going on here?” Logan’s dad asked amused as Patton darted around him to use him as a human shield.

“I made Logan stop working and now he wants to throw me in the dungeons.”

“Well,” Logan’s father said. “It’s a good thing I’m king and can overrule him then.”

“Thank you, Thomathy.” Father chuckled at the nickname, and Patton poked his head around the king to stick his tongue out at Logan once again.

“He’s sticking his tongue out at me!” Logan pointed out. “Surely that counts as some sort of treason.”

“Does not!” Patton claimed.

“Does too!”

“Does not!”

“Stop it!”

“Make me!”

“I would, but you’re hiding behind my father like a coward,” Logan argued.

“He does have a point there, Pat,” Father reasoned. Patton just wrapped his fists into the man’s robes and shot him a piteous look.

“Oof, Pat,” Father said, rubbing his chest as though it ached. “That look is a shot straight to the heart. Is someone trying to assassinate me?”

“No,” Patton said. “I wouldn’t let them.”

“Hmm,” Father replied, reaching out to ruffle his hair and then stepping away from him. “I can always count on you Pat. I have to head to a meeting now. Keep our troublemaker out of mischief for me?”

“Oh, I’m the troublemaker?”

“Of course, Thomathy,” Patton swore, ignoring Logan completely. “Can we use the jewelry box for dress up?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Father agreed. “I won’t need any for a while. Just keep them safe.”

“We will,” Patton promised. Father smiled at him and walked towards the entrance of the hall. He paused to press his palm to Logan’s cheek briefly before continuing and disappearing through the doors.

Logan turned back to Patton. “It seems you have cornered yourself,” he pointed out.

Patton glanced around himself. He had, in fact, sequestered himself in the end of the hall. The only possible avenue was into Father’s bedroom and he’d likely locked the door behind him if he was going to be gone to a meeting. Patton giggled when his predicament set in. “Truce?” he offered.

“Not a chance.”

“No! Logan! Truce!”

Logan took a menacing step towards him.

“Defensive offence!” Patton shrieked and charged at him.

The air was knocked out of him when Patton slammed into him. “Ugh, Patton, why?” The arms that had wrapped around him squeezed hard. “I’m being attacked! Guards!”

To the guards’ credit, one of them did stick their head through the door just to make sure. Patton waved at them.

“There is no respect for the crown in this entire castle!” Logan sputtered when the door closed once again.

Patton released his waist finally, and instead grabbed his hands. “Come on, I bet I can pick out a good fun book from your dad’s library for you to read during our sleepover.”

“My book’s fun.”

“And easy,” Patton stressed. “We’ll have to wait for the cover of nightfall to steal the cookies, but there is plenty to do until then.”

“Fine,” Logan said with a put-upon sigh, though he honestly didn’t feel any true resentment. He wondered if he’d regret his decision to agree to Patton’s ‘sleep’over in the morning.

He would find in the years to come, that he very much wouldn’t. For, many, many reasons.

Chapter 2

Virgil hated this. He really, really hated this. To think he wished he was back in training camp. He yearned for General Landon’s mistreatment like he imagined most children desired their mother’s affection. He tried not to sniff too loudly from his place behind the foul-smelling bags he’d hid behind in the small shed long enough ago that his legs had long since cramped.

He could tell from small window opposite him that the sun had set recently, though it was not quite last light. Soon he would have the cover of darkness and would have to move from this spot. That was almost worse than staying cramped here forever and starving to death in the shed. He felt sick. He felt so sick. He didn’t want to be here.

A noise startled him, and he flinched down further behind the bags as someone pulled opened the door to the shed. A man made a groaning sound and set gardening tools down on the table with a clank. Virgil did not want to imagine all the ways each of those things could kill someone, but his brain didn’t give him the choice.

Virgil focused on breathing as quietly as he could even when the thoughts in his head made him want to pant. The man continued to put away the tools in different places in the shed. Virgil tried to curl even tighter into his already tight ball when he strayed too close a few times.

The man finished his work and wiped off his hands on his shirt. Virgil expected him to turn and exit the shed, but instead he called out. “I can see your hair.”

Virgil froze, and when the man turned to look right at his hiding place, he let out a small whimper. He tried to scramble away when the man took a step closer to him, but there was nowhere to go but to press himself up against the back of the shed, the man’s body between him and the door.

They sized each other up for a long moment. Could Virgil make it to one of the tools if he moved quickly enough? He didn’t know. He doubted it and there was more than a likely chance that he’d reach for a tool himself with his much longer arms.

“You here to steal food from the castle garden?” the man finally asked.

Well…no, not at all. He wished he was here to steal food. How should he respond? What was the most tactical answer? He cast his mind back to his training. There were a few options when faced with this situation, but he didn’t know which was the best one. The most obvious explanation was to go with his cover story and try to say he worked in the kitchen, but this man worked with the garden. There was every possibility he knew people in the kitchen. Another strategy would be to agree with whatever he said and hope he came up with a reasonable explanation on his own… but that explanation seemed to be that Virgil was a thief. Would he immediately be dragged in front of the king or have his arm chopped off or something else horrible? He could try spinning it around on him by asking him questions back and confuse him. He could ask him why he was here or if he was the one stealing food. That would be stupid though, he was obviously the gardener. That would probably just piss him off and make Virgil’s fate worse.

Virgil couldn’t breathe.

“Hey kid,” the man said. “What’s going on?” He had crouched down in front of Virgil and the fading light from the window finally hit the side of his face the right way to light up the currently black tattoo on his face. Virgil blinked. He was really glad he hadn’t just lied in that case. He did not comment on the marking or otherwise indicate he knew what it was. That would breed questions about why he knew what the man was. Why was the man a gardener if he was a multrum? It didn’t make any sense.

That didn’t matter now however, Virgil needed to say something, and it had to be the truth.

[whentherewerebicycles]

I don’t usually set new year’s resolutions but I do like to use the start of the year to think about the patterns of behavior I want to continue or shift. in the new year I want to:

continue eating a whole food plant-based vegan diet, which I have now done successfully for an entire year! the only time I eat differently—refined sugar, dairy products, sometimes meat—is when I am at my parents’, so maybe 4 weeks out of the year. it is one of the best lifestyle changes I’ve ever made for myself and it has been so positively reinforcing. not to sound like a broken record but my excruciating joint pain is gone, my skin/hair are so much better, I’m almost off my sleeping meds, I have more energy, and my mood has been so much more stable even with the stresses of this year.

continue being active for 420 minutes every week, or about 60 min/day. I started doing this at the end of May (~7 months) and in many weeks I exceed that minimum number. this has been the other best lifestyle change I’ve ever made. the part that makes me happiest is that I have made exercise an integral part of my daily life without ever once feeling like “ugh ok I have to go do my workout.” I wanted to make movement feel fun, physically and emotionally rewarding, and like something I looked forward to every day instead of something I dreaded. and it worked. what helped me make this lifestyle change: I read extensively about exercise’s effect on the brain and body, because I know that I am a million times more likely to successfully build and maintain a habit if I have researched the how & why of it, and can understand how it fits into my larger goals. I also stopped making myself do types of exercise I hate (workout videos) and instead worked to explore, in a curious and open-minded way, what kinds of movement brought me happiness and pleasure. it turns out I love exercising outdoors, social exercise, and exercise I can do with my dogs. this year I spent most of my time skating, walking, and running, with some tennis thrown in. in the coming year I am eager to keep skating, experiment with long-distance walking, and try biking (if I can find a bike!). I also really want to start swimming again if it’s ever safe to do so.

start meditating for 10 min every morning (and continue using the 30 min body-scan meditation I use for sleep). I want to see if I can do the morning practice for 100 days and carefully track any changes I see/feel. to boost my chances of success I want to keep researching how meditation affects the brain and body. this is something I hope can become a major lifestyle change like the changes I’ve made re: food and movement.

I think I would like to try 100 days without alcohol, with the possibility of extending it to a year without alcohol depending on how I am feeling. I don’t like how alcohol makes me feel and I think it may need to be something I eventually cut out entirely. I drink much, much less than I did, and I think I still drink significantly less than many of my friends, but I still don’t feel like I have a healthy relationship with it and I wonder if I’m just someone who might be better off always saying no. but I’ll leave that decision to sometime in the future, and will experiment with 100 days for now.

this is not really a “habit” I want to develop but I hope I am able to get back into research this year. this year wasn’t quite a lost year for me, but intellectually it was a year where all of my energies were focused on the present and the immediate future, and I found it almost impossible to do any kind of long-range thinking or planning. I think it is easy for me to drift into mindlessness where I am just living on autopilot and reaching for immediate gratification without much consideration for longer-term goals. that was completely understandable this year and tbh was probably my brain’s way of protecting itself from all the free-floating anxiety and anger and grief. but I can feel the fog very slowly beginning to dissipate and I want to gradually ease myself back into doing the kind of work that brings l me joy and gives me a sense of purpose.

[petersasteria]

168 Hours - Haz Osterfield (12)

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Haz Osterfield Masterlist ||  Ultimate Masterlist || 168 Hours Masterlist

DISCLAIMER:  *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which your son’s wish comes true and it turns horrible. Now, he has to fix it in 168 hours.

Special thanks to: @blueleatherbag​​ and @dudethisvoid​​ for being so helpful

This is the longest chapter here so far.

Click pictures for better quality

𝐈𝐭 has been one hundred and twenty hours out of one hundred and sixty-eight. Harley and Amadis' mission only has forty-eight hours left. In mortal time, they've consumed five days out of seven which means they only have two days left.

Amadis has been stuck in Prague for three days now. He was glad that Saint Christopher and Saint Thomas Aquinas were accompanying him. If not, he'd feel insane going on this Prague mission alone.

"So, what's our plan today?" Saint Christopher asks as he likes Saint Agnes' photo on Instagram. Saint Thomas Aquinas looks over and nods, "God has favorites, I swear."

"I know right!" Saint Christopher huffs.

"It's unfair, dude." Saint Thomas Aquinas rolls his eyes. "He says he loves us equally and that we were made in His image and likeness. But why aren't some of us as good looking as the other?"

"I'm sure God has reasons." Amadis chimes in. "Anyway, we'll be going back to London tomorrow so that it's not suspicious."

"What do you mean?" Saint Christopher asks.

"Tom Holland flies back to London today. It would be suspicious because if I left the same day Tom left. I went to Prague the same day Tom went and that's enough coincidences." Amadis explains. The two saints just shrug and continued on beating boredom by being on their phone.

"Ugh, I hate cyan!!" Saint Thomas Aquinas huffs. He looks at Saint Christopher and Amadis and says, "I'm playing this game called 'Among Us'. Download it so we can all play."

Saint Christopher and Amadis look at each other and shrug. What have they go to lose? They're bored, anyway. So, they download the game.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓, 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍, 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐔𝐊

Thomas Stanley Holland arrives at the airport with his best mate, Brad Simpson.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride, mate? Y/N isn't here." Brad states as he looks around for the girl. Tom sighs, but reassuringly smiles at his best friend, "It's alright. She's just running late. Traffic sucks, you know."

Brad nods, "That's true. I hate it. Anyway, I'll see you soon."

"See ya!"

They give each other a quick hug before Brad gets in his car. Tom waves a goodbye before he looks around for Y/N and pulls out his phone to text her.

"I'll just wait for her for five minutes. She's just late." Tom whispers to himself. Alas, five minutes have passed. Five turned to ten and ten turned to fifteen. As time passed, Tom has been staying at the airport for one hour now.

Tom huffs and angrily strides to where the taxis are. However, Tom isn't aware of the line as he walks straight up front and tells the person in charge, "I want a taxi. Now. Make it snappy."

"You want a taxi?"

"Yes. I believe that's what I said. Don't make me repeat things." Tom rolls his eyes and fixes his coat.

"Get in line, then." The man says as he points at the line behind Tom. Tom looks at the line behind him and his jaw drops at the long line.

"Oi, you heard the man. Get in line, mate!"

"I beg your pardon?" Tom gasps.

"Back in the line, cunt!" One shouts from the back.

Tom holds his head up high as he walks to the back of the line. He has never been so embarrassed in his entire life. He feels humiliated and by the time he reaches the end of the line, his face is all red from shame.

A few minutes later, he finally gets a taxi going to the city. He checks his phone only to see no texts from Y/N. He clenches his jaw and puts his phone in his pocket.

Thirty minutes later, he arrives at the city. He pays for the ride and gets out. Now, he didn't know where to go. He looks around and he realizes that he doesn't know how to get home.

"I'm fucking screwed."

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄

"Who the hell is the impostor??" Saint Christopher mutters under his breath as he plays 'Among Us' on his phone.

Saint Thomas Aquinas holds back his laughter and continues to play the game. Amadis focuses on the game and sighs when the impostor kills him.

"Aight, I'm dead." Amadis announces. "My body is in the storage room." After he says that, his phone starts ringing. Amadis looks at his phone and his eyes widen, "It's the big guns upstairs!"

"No way-!" Saint Christopher shouts.

"I know right! He never calls me!" Amadis panics.

"I can't believe I got killed in the game!" Saint Christopher groans. "And I especially can't believe Saint Thomas A. killed me!"

The saint just looks at him with a devious smile, "I had to do what I had to do and Amadis, if I were you, I'd answer the call."

Amadis sighs and answers the phone, "Hi God!"

"Let's switch to FaceTime." God says.

"He-"

"I gave that Tom Holland kid one hell of a karma." God says. "He doesn't know how to commute and stuff."

"Oh. Thanks, God." Amadis says.

"No problem. How's Prague?" God asks, fully invested in their mission. Amadis looks up from his phone to see the two saints learning the dance to 'Ice Cream' by BLACKPINK and Selena Gomez.

Amadis looks back on his phone where God is waiting for a response, "We're good. How's heaven?"

God shrugs, "We're alright up here."

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒' 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍, 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐔𝐊

"You got everything already?" Harrison asks as he watches Y/N walk around to check if she has everything. Y/N looks at him and nods, "Yeah. I guess I should get going now. Sorry I can't babysit Harley with you today."

"I can't babysit him either." Harrison sighs. "Timmy's watching him, though. Harley's excited."

"That's good to hear!" Y/N grins. "I'll go now."

"Alright." Harrison says. She walks up to him and gives him a hug, "It was a pleasure babysitting Harley with you."

He hugs back and smiles, "Likewise."

"Hugging without me, I see." Harley jokes. He joins the hug and frowns when he realizes that he may never see Y/N again. As if reading his mind, Y/N pulls away and kisses Harley's forehead, "I'll see you soon, alright? You're not getting rid of me anytime soon."

"But what about that man on th-"

"Harley." Harrison interrupts and gives Harley a pointed look as if telling him to stop it. Harley looks at him and changes the topic, "I'll see you soon!"

Y/N smiles, gets her bags and leaves. Harrison turns to Harley and asks, "Alright, are you ready to hang out with Timothée?"

"Yup!" Harley grins and grabs the allowance envelope from the table where Harrison placed it earlier this morning when Finn dropped it off.

"Good! Let's go!" Harrison takes his bag and leaves with Harley. The two of them exit the apartment building and walk to a café not too far from the apartment.

"Timmy works here, but it's his day off today." Harrison tells Harley as they enter the fancy café. Harley looks around in awe and stares at the display case with all the pastries he couldn't pronounce and never heard of.

"Psst!" Timothée says quietly and motions for Harrison to come over. Harrison smiles and taps Harley's shoulder before pointing at Timothée. The two of them walk to where Timothée is and they sit with him in the booth.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Timothée says in a posh accent. "I'm a wealthy and posh man sitting here in a posh café, waiting for my equally wealthy friends."

Harley giggles and Harrison shakes his head with a chuckle. Timothée laughs and goes back to his normal speaking voice, "What's up?"

"You already know." Harrison says. "You'll watch Harley. Y/N and I can't watch him today and no one else is available."

"Geez, you sound like an actual dad." Timothée laughs. Oh, if he only knew. "But yeah, this lil' guy and I will have fun! I'll make sure of it."

"Great! Thanks a lot, mate. I owe you one." Harrison grins. He stands up to give Timothée a quick hug and he kisses the top of Harley's head before saying goodbye and leaving.

"Is he a good dad?" Timothée jokes as he takes a sip of his coffee.

'He favors my siblings more, but now that I'm here in the past, I can see that he's great. The most selfless person I've ever met, actually.' Harley thinks to himself. Suddenly flashbacks of his few moments with his father came to mind.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓, 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝟒

Harley didn't understand why he was staying with his grandparents. All he was told is that his parents will go to the hospital because his little sister was coming. He brushed it off and played with his grandparents.

The next day, he and his grandparents went to the hospital to meet the new baby, his sister, whom he already disliked because of the way his mum looked at her. His grandfather placed him on the ground and he frowned. He frowned even more when his grandfather paid attention to the baby instead.

Oh, how he loathed that day. To his unluckiness, this went on for a while. He was neglected by everyone. For a short time, even his uncle Tom paid attention to the baby which surprised him and he felt betrayed by his favorite uncle.

One day, his mum and his baby sister, Harper, were fast asleep in the bedroom and Harley was in the living room playing with the toys his uncle Tom bought for him all the way from Japan. Harley suddenly wasn't amused by his imported toys anymore and he just laid down on the couch and opened the tv to watch his favorite cartoon.

Harrison emerged from his office and went to the living room, "Harley, where's your mum? I have something to ask."

"In the room... with the baby." Harley said sadly. Harrison frowned at his eldest. He didn't know why his son was upset. He walked towards Harley crouched down in front of him, "What's wrong, buddy?"

"No one loves me anymore." Harley said and he cried. Harrison had no clue where that came from and he asked again as he wiped his son's tears away, "What makes you say that?"

"No one plays with me anymore and everyone plays with the baby and not me." Harley cried. "I hate you. I hate mum. I hate grandma and grandpa."

"You're sad about that?" Harrison said softly. "Harley, just because we spend more time with the baby, doesn't mean we love you less. We spend more time with the baby because the baby needs more attention. A baby cries all the time and they can't take care of themselves because they're not big like you."

Harley didn't say anything. He just sniffed and wiped his tears. An idea came to Harrison's mind, "How about we hang out today? My work can wait, alright? We can go to the park or the ice cream shop down the road. Isn't that fun?" Harrison coaxed his young son. It worked, though.

"Ice cream?" Harley asked.

"Yeah. Do you want that?" Harrison asked and Harley smiled and nodded quickly. "Let's get you dressed then!" Harrison smiled and picked him up as they went to Harley's room.

That day at the ice cream shop and the park was spectacular. Soon, it became a tradition every Saturday.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟕, 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝟔

"Harley, let's go! It's time for school." Harrison shouted from the front door. It was Harley's first day of school and his parents could tell that he was nervous. His parents didn't want him late on the first day.

Tiny footsteps were heard coming down the stairs and Y/N smiled at the sight of her little boy looking all dressed up. "Darling, you look amazing!" Y/N grinned as she adjusted Harper in her arms. Harper was now two years old.

Y/N leaned down and kissed the top of Harley's head, "Good luck, alright? I'll pick you up after school and please behave!"

Harley nodded and practically ran to the car. Y/N pecked Harrison's lips and bid him a goodbye as well.

"I'll see you when I get home. I'll be home at seven." Harrison said before kissing Harper's cheek.

"See you at seven, my love." Y/N said with the look of love on her face. They've been married for three years and things between them were getting better and better as each day passes.

"See you at seven." Harrison winked and left to open his car and help Harley in.

On the drive to Harley's school, they listened to Disney songs on shuffle. 'Un Poco Loco' from Coco came on and Harley grinned and cheered. Harley even did his best grito.

Harrison glanced at him for a second through the rearview mirror and smiled. He turned up the volume a bit and he heard Harley sing.

"What color is the sky? Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor. You tell me that it's red. Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor. Where should I put my shoes? Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor. You say-"

"Put 'em on your head! Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor." Harrison sang along which made Harley let out the cutest giggle he's ever heard.

Harley did the cutest air guitar action before singing again, "You make me un poco loco, un poquititito loco. The way you keep me guessing. I'm nodding and I'm yes-ing, I'll count it as a blessing that I'm only un poco loco!"

It went like that every morning. Harrison would drive him to school and they'd have a karaoke session of Disney songs in the car. Harrison didn't mind having Disney songs stuck in his head as long as his son was having fun. He didn't care that his colleagues were looking at him weirdly as he quietly sung to himself. The other day, he earned a look from his friend at work when they caught him quietly singing 'Into The Unknown' from Frozen 2.

A few months later, Tom bought Harley his first guitar and paid for his guitar lessons. Tom may have bought the guitar and paid for his lessons, but Harrison was there through every breakdown whenever Harley couldn't get a note right. Harrison was there through Harley's highs and lows until Harley got better and better. Tom may have took credit for buying Harley a guitar and paying for guitar lessons, but Harrison took credit for being Harley's first critic and audience.

That's why years later, it broke his heart when he wasn't able to go to his son's first talent show.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟑𝟎, 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝟗; 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘

"Harley, wake up." Harrison whispered. "Harley!"

Harley stirred awake and groaned, "What?"

"It's Mother's Day. Do you want to help me make breakfast for your mum?" Harrison asked nicely as he watched Harley sit up.

"Sure." Harley yawned as he got out of bed.

"Great! I'll meet you in the kitchen." Harrison smiled and went downstairs. A few minutes later, Harley comes down and they begin to cook breakfast for Y/N.

Harrison was glad that he was spending time with his son that day. Usually, Harley would be eager to go spend his weekends with Tom. Both of them would go abroad for the weekend and then comeback at Sunday in the afternoon.

An hour and a half later, they were done cooking and setting the table. Y/N walked down the stairs with Harper walking beside her. They entered the dining area and gasped at the sight.

"Happy Mother's Day!" Harrison and Harley said enthusiastically.

"Aww, thank you so much!" Y/N teared up.

"Mummy, don't cry." Harper frowned. Y/N chuckled and wiped her tears, "I blame the hormones."

Harrison chuckled, "You're blaming your pregnancy hormones for crying?"

"Yes." Y/N chuckled as she instinctively put a hand on her bump. She was five months pregnant. Harrison crouched down a bit and spoke to the ever-growing baby in Y/N's womb.

"Hey there, little one! It's Mother's Day now and we're celebrating. I can't wait for you to come out so that you can celebrate with us next year. I love you. Oh and this is daddy, by the way." Harrison said as everyone chuckled.

Harrison stood up straight and led Y/N to the table and helped her sit down. "Harley and I made breakfast. You're welcome." Harrison said as he sat down after helping Harper in her seat.

"Thank you! I appreciate it." Y/N giggled.

The doorbell rang and Harley got up to get it. "Uncle Tom!" Harley shouted gleefully.

Y/N looked at Harrison and gave him a small smile, "Harley loves you. Remember that."

"I'm not his favorite person in the world, though." Harrison said with a sad smile on his face. "Let's eat!"

Tom entered the house with the biggest bouquet of flowers anyone has ever seen. Harper gasped and said, "Wow! Pretty flowers!"

"Indeed, they are, Harper!" Y/N breathed. She couldn't recover from the shock when she saw the flowers. "Hi, Tom! What brings you here?"

"I thought I'd pay my second favorite mum for a visit! These flowers are yours." Tom said as he looked to the side to see everyone. "I'll put these in the living room."

Tom made his way to the living room and placed it on the coffee table. Harley closed the front door and went back to his seat. Tom quickly jogged to the dining area and placed a quick kiss on Y/N's cheek.

"Happy Mother's Day, love." Tom said with a smile. He looked at the food and said, "I'm impressed! I assume Harrison cooked breakfast."

"Yes and Harley helped." Harrison said as he and Harley looked at each other with big grins on their faces.

"That's great! Anyway, I'm taking my mum out today and I was wondering if this pretty lady," Tom winked at Y/N, as he pulled out his phone to text someone. "Would like to join! It's just a quick trip around France. We'll be back at six. We'll use the jet."

Tom looked at Harrison, pointed at his phone and mouthed, "Check your phone."

Tom looked up from his phone, smiled at Harrison and mouthed, "You're welcome."

Harrison turned to Y/N, "Love, I think you should go. It'll be fun! My Mother's Day gift to you is cleaning up around the house. So, go enjoy Paris."

Catching on like the smart kid that he is, Harley agreed, "Yes, mum! In fact, take Harper with you."

"I can watch her while we're at Paris. I'm very very capable of taking care of Harper." Tom said with a grin. Y/N looked at all three of them and shrugged, "Alright. I needed a break, anyway."

While Y/N and Harper were at Paris to spend Mother's Day with Tom and Nikki, Harrison and Harley were planning a small dinner party for when they get back. Needless to say, everyone enjoyed themselves that night.

"You and your dad make a great team." Tom said to Harley that night at the party. "That's good. I think both of you should team up often."

"But I already have you to team up with." Harley said.

Tom chuckled, "Yes and you will always be my teammate. But you and your dad are the best team. We're just a close second. I think it's time you should see that. I never had with my dad and you're lucky to have him as a father."

"I guess we do make a great team." Harley trailed off.

"Yes and you should be proud of it." Tom said and ruffled Harley's hair.

Unbeknownst to them, Harrison was listening to their conversation and somehow, it reassured Harrison that his relationship with Harley was alright; everything was okay. After all, he was a good father and a good husband.

"Harley!" Timothée says, snapping Harley out of his daydream. He chuckles, "I asked what you want to eat and what you want to do for today. I work here, so I get discounts for food and drinks and stuff like that. Take your pick, little man."

Timothée smiles and slides the menu towards Harley. Harley browses through the menu and tells Timothée that he wants a slice of red velvet cake and a glass of cold chocolate milk.

"You got it, buddy!" Timothée smiles and calls for a waiter. Joshua, Timothée's colleague, happily takes their order and says, "I'll be back in a minute with your orders."

"We appreciate it, man. Thank you." Timothée says with a smile. He turns to Harley and asks, "Anything you want to do today?"

Harley shrugs, "We could go to the park or something."

"Ever been to a cruise?" Timothée asks. Harley shakes his head. Timothée smirks, "We'll take a cruise, then. It's just a short cruise on the Thames."

Harley's face lights up and Timothée chuckles. Joshua comes back with Harley's order and Harley starts eating.

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄

Thomas Stanley Holland arrives home, surprisingly in one piece, at eleven in the evening. He somehow got lost. He took the wrong buses a bunch of times, there was no signal on some places, then his phone died, he ended up having tea at Bristol. Then when he took the train to go home, he accidentally got off at the wrong stop and when he turned back to get in the train, it already left.

Long story short, it was not his day.

Seeing Y/N in their shared bedroom watching something on Netflix made Tom's blood boil. The maid quickly brings in Tom's suitcase and quickly leaves. The maid sensed a fight brewing and she felt the need to warn her fellow workers that their boss will yell any second now.

Y/N finally sees him and smiles, "Hi, love. Welcome home!"

"Don't 'hi, love' me!" Tom raises his voice. All he could see was red. "Where the fuck were you?! I called you and texted you! You said that you were going to pick me up at the fucking airport!"

Y/N stays quiet.

"Were you with that fucking kid again?! I fucking bet you were! Who even is that kid? What makes him so special that you care about him so much? I'm you fiancé, dammit!" Tom shouts.

Y/N's face contorts in anger. She's had enough. The last straw was bringing Harley into their fight. Harley was innocent.

(A/N: Tom's thoughts are in bold.)

"Don't you dare bring him into this!" Y/N shouts, standing up from the bed. "He's not at fault! I volunteered to watch him for a few days because I wanted to and I needed a break! I needed a break from you, from work, from Saoirse, and from fucking wedding planning!"

"It's OUR wedding, Thomas! OUR WEDDING. Not just mine. So if you won't help in fucking planning, I might as well get married to myself!" She yells.

"You're always out partying with Brad and you always want me to be home at a certain time so that I could look after you or something. I have a life too and I want to bloody live it!"

"These past few days have been a great retreat for me and it was amazing. It was away from everyone I knew and I deserved that. Saoirse's acting like a bridezilla and she's not even the bride!" Y/N shrieks. "How fucking dare she complain about the centerpieces when she won't even fucking glance at it on the wedding day itself! FUCK YOU, SAOIRSE!!" She paces back and forth.

'Tell her off, then! What do you want me to do? Talk to her? I bloody hate her too.'

"And your fucking bodyguards are always around me like they're vultures and I'm their prey! I hate it! Why do you even need them?! You're not a fucking Hollywood star!"

'Yes, but I'm a CEO, darling. My life is always, always at risk. Have you seen the movies about people like me getting captured? Probably not. Go rest and watch them and you'll understand.'

"Oh, and I hate that you don't like my friend, Florence! She's so kind! Kinder than Saoirse and better, actually."

'I didn't say I hated her. I just said that her way of living was weird. She owns a karaoke bar and she lives in a shoebox apartment even though she could afford anything more expensive than that. I didn't prohibit you from hanging out with her, did I?'

"And my friend, Harrison, apparently applied for your fucking company-"

'Who? I've literally never heard of him. I don't call my applicants by their name. I call them based on what I see.'

"-as a social media manager and you didn't even hire him! Now, he has to do part time jobs and shit to get by!"

'Ahh, I know him. He's the guy that applied for social media manager with worn out shoes and an old jacket that I assume was a hand-me-down. I didn't hire him because he didn't look the part. My apologies, darling.'

"Then you're mean to Harley?! What did he ever do to you? He's only ten years old!"

'He did nothing, but he took you away from me. You don't even answer my calls when you're with him. I take that personally.'

"You know, if this is how you behave when I babysit, what kind of father will you be?" Y/N sighs in a frustrated manner. Tom stares at her and purses his lips. She grabs her phone and charger and leaves their shared room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Tom asks.

"Guest room. I don't want to sleep next to you, right now." She says. "Sometimes I think you're only with me for sex because that's how we fucking solve everything before. Well, not this time. Good night, Thomas."

She slams the door and hurriedly walks to the guest room to get some well-deserved shut eye. Tom huffs and lays down on the cold bed and immediately goes to sleep due to all the exhaustion. However, even asleep, Y/N's question haunts him in his sleep.

"You know, if this is how you behave when I babysit, what kind of father will you be?"

* * * *

wow 4.4k words

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland​​​​​ @silencetheslaves​​​​ ​ @imeanlifesabitshit​​ @joyleenl​​​​ @hjoficrecs​ @blueleatherbag​ @poguesholland​ @harryismysunflower​ @justanothermarvelmaniac​ @lonikje​ @lizzyosterfield​ @itstaskeen​​ @ilarbu​​ @turtoix​​ @badreputationlove​​ @starlight-starks​ @swiftmind​​ @sovereignparker​​ @pearce14​

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell​​ @justasmisunderstoodasloki​​ @rubberducky-jrr​​ @petersholland​​ @osterfieldnholland​​ @miraclesoflove​​​​ @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​ @perspectiveparker​ @hollands-weasley​ @itstaskeen​ @call-me-baby-gir1​ @the-panwitch​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @chloecreatesfictions​​ @holland-styles​​ @halfblood-princess-505​​ @spidey-reids-2003​​ @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual​

[filthy-rat]

Mary Had a Little Lamb

AO3 Link

You were never really one for parties, so you aren’t exactly sure how you managed to let your friend, Angel, drag you out one crisp autumn night.

From what they had said, this party was going to be mostly drinking and smoking weed and playing video games—all things you enjoyed, right? So maybe you would have a good time. You think about the inherent awkwardness of talking to people and the mortifying ordeal of being known, and your stomach clenches in fear. Ugh, maybe not. You make a mental note to do a better job of hiding your melancholy from them the next time they start giving you the Concerned Face.

As you approach the run down apartment building in the heart of the city, apprehension gnaws at your gut. For the third time in your five minute walk, you come to a halt, frowning at your companion.

“I don’t know, dude, I-I really shouldn’t—”

“Ugh, c’mon!” Impatiently, they stomp back to you, latch onto the sleeve of your jacket, and tug you along. “It’ll be fun! I’m sick of you moping around the house!”

“...I wasn’t moping,” you mumble, stuffing your hands into your pockets and shrugging off their hand from your sleeve. “And besides, do you even know anyone at this party?”

“Like, one or two people. But it’s a party, you’re not really supposed to know everyone.” They link arms with you, continuing to pull you down the street. “Listen, if we get any scummy vibes, we’ll bounce, okay?”

“Fine.” Huffing out an irritated sigh, you allow yourself to be pulled.

“There’s supposed to be some really hot guys here, too.” Angel flashes you an excited grin.

“Yeah, ‘cause hot guys have a history of being into me.”

“Oh, my god, stop that or I’m gonna kick your ass.” They nudge your elbow with theirs and give you another look. The dreaded Concerned Face. You hate it when they do that.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get up there before they drink all the good beer.”

“Hell yea.”

Arm in arm, the two of you make your way to the building, and Angel leans in to press the buzzer. A disgruntled, raspy voice on the other end asks shockingly few questions of the two of you before opening the door. There’s no elevator. You groan as you realize you’ll have to hoof it up five flights of stairs.

You can hear the music pounding from about a floor and a half below, and it only gets louder the closer you get to your destination. When you finally reach the correct floor, you’re gasping and clutching at a stitch in your side and regretting your life choices. Why the fuck isn’t there an elevator?

“C’mon, it’s this door,” Angel says, after catching their breath, and they approach a door at the end of the hallway.

The worn wood is absolutely slathered in band stickers and old Halloween decorations and painted-on pentagrams. Though the plaque on the door reads “66”, someone has taken a red marker and added an additional 6 to the end. You give Angel a dubious side eye.

“Listen, these guys are… a little rough. Just give them a chance, though. Most punks and goths are good people.” They give a nervous laugh, grimace, and knock on the door.

After a moment, it opens to reveal a thin youth with multicolored dreadlocks tied in twin tails and a bridge piercing. Arching a perfect brow, she saddles the two of you with an unimpressed eye, and steps back to see if any other partygoers will claim you.

“Who the fuck are these herbs?” asks one of them, putting an emphasis on the letter ‘h’ that makes everyone laugh.

You shoot Angel a glare. Punks and goths are good people, huh? They have the decency to look a little chagrined, and rub anxiously at the back of their neck.

“Angel!” shouts a voice, and you vaguely recognize one of Angel’s friends—you’ve never formally met the guy—as he approaches and pulls them into a one armed hug. “Hey, you finally made it! I was wondering when you were gonna get your slow-ass up here.” With the music so loud, they have to lean close and yet still practically shout to be heard.

“You could’ve fucking warned me there was no elevator,” Angel says, playfully shoving his shoulder. “Show me where the drinks are before I change my mind!”

Without another word, the two of them disappear arm in arm deeper into the shabby apartment, leaving you standing in the door awkwardly. The girl at the door eyes you up and down, her expression blatantly judgemental, but merely gestures inside with a grand sweep of her arm. With a polite but nervous smile, you step over the threshold and immediately glue yourself to the wall just inside the door. There are people milling about everywhere, drinking, laughing, making out.

You’ve never felt more out of place in your entire life. A part of you wants to leave—but you can’t do that to Angel. So you’re stuck there, leaning against the wall and pretending like you don’t exist.

The music pounding through the stereo lulls momentarily as another song is chosen.

“Hey there, sweet thing.” A voice, much too close to your ear, makes you jump and you whirl on the spot. “Tell me you ain’t wearing a fuckin’ Stryper t-shirt.”

Leaning his shoulder against the very same wall, the epitome of rough, roguish charm, is a pale, gaunt-looking young man. His dark hair is pulled down in front of his face in a messy devil lock, and there’s long, red lines of blood—hopefully fake—dribbling down from the crown of his head to his chin and onto the front of his sleeveless Candlemass shirt. A wrinkled, hand-rolled cigarette is tucked behind one ear, and the vest he wears rattles with many pins when he moves. You don’t think you’ve ever seen tighter jeans in your life. It’s like they were fucking painted on. Are those fishnet tights you spy through the shredded knees?

Who is this guy?

As you take in his appearance, eyes wide, he reaches out and gently cups your chin, forcing your eyes back up to his face. He gives you a knowing smirk, eyes hooded, and your whole face feels very warm.

The music starts up again, but quieter this time—a slow power ballad. You’re distantly aware of people pairing up in the background, but your eyes are focused on his.

“You lost, little lamb?” he says, his voice low, almost a purr.

“N-No, I came here with my friend.”

With an arch of his thick brows, the bloodied stranger casts an exaggerated look around you, then resettles against the wall with a shrug. “Don’t see you with anyone.”

“...Yeah, they kinda abandoned me.” A brief, rueful smile tugs your lips.

“That’s okay. I’ll be your friend,” he says, flashing a wicked grin that quickly makes him seem less a friend and more a wolf.

Is that why he called you ‘lamb’?

“...I don’t even know your name.” But, fuck, do you want to. You can’t remember the last time someone this hot even gave you the time of day.

“I don’t know yours either,” he points out, pulling the cigarette from behind his ear and placing it between his lips. “Names are so fuckin’ superfluous, kitten, but you can call me Mary.”

“Mary?” Your brow furrows. “That’s a strange—”

As he fishes a lighter from his pocket and brings the flame to the end of the cigarette, he gestures with his free hand to his bloody face. He takes a drag and exhales a plume of smoke, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s a joke.” A beat. He heaves a sigh, and shoots you a scowl. “Why do I even fuckin’—Bloody Mary, get it?”

“Oh. Y-Yeah.” You’re not quite sure you do get it, really, but he seems to be satisfied with this answer. You change the subject. “So, do you live here?”

“Sometimes, if I feel like it.” He plucks the cigarette from his lips and offers it to you, held delicately between two long fingers. The black polish on his nails is chipped, you notice.

“I don’t smoke.”

Mary smirks. “It ain’t tobacco, lamb.”

“Oh.” Frowning, you look down at the smoldering cigarette and a little bubble of panic rises in your chest. “I-I’ve never uh. Done it. This way before.”

Mary arches a brow.

“Me and my friend, w-we usually put it in brownies.” You feel silly just saying it, and avert your gaze with a grimace.

“Oh, well… you wanna shotgun it?”

You look back up at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “What is that?”

“C’mere.”

He leans in closer, until his lips are nearly touching yours. For one heart-stopping second, you think he’s going to kiss you, but no—he stops just shy of contact. The tip of his nose brushes featherlight against yours, though, and goosebumps erupt across your skin. His eyes are hooded, and there’s something so sensual and alluring in those dark depths that it makes your stomach do a little somersault.

“I exhale, you inhale, yeah?” His lip quirks into a crooked smile.

You give a slow nod, afraid that if you moved too suddenly he’d bolt like a wild animal. He lifts the joint to his lips, takes a long hit, and holds it for just a moment. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips. When he exhales a cloud of smoke, you inhale too quickly, and the unfamiliar burn of it makes your lungs spasm and you jerk backward with a cough.

Mary gives a rueful laugh and reaches past you to an open ice chest on the kitchen counter. With his free hand, he fishes out a can of beer and cracks it open. It foams and he holds it out at arms’ length with a quiet, disgruntled ah, fuck as suds splatter onto the carpet.

When it finishes spewing, he pushes the damp can into your hands, and you gratefully gulp it down to soothe your burning throat.

“Wanna go again?” he asks, once you’ve recovered enough to speak.

You eye him with apprehension. Do you want to go again? You’re pretty sure another close encounter with Mary might kill you. On the other hand, you’re craving more of that closeness.

“Okay.”

“Cool. This time,” Mary says, and he sidles a step closer, centimeters away from his body making contact with yours. “Don’t suck it into your lungs right away. Into your mouth first, like a milkshake.”

Or like something else? Your cheeks flush as this filthy thought enters your head. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to notice as he leans in. This time, you’re ready, and though your throat burns again, you manage to cut your coughing time by half. The cold beer helps. Mary reaches around you and extinguishes the roach in a nearby ashtray, then settles back against the wall, his shoulder touching yours. For a moment, the two of you sit in silence as the weed works its magic. It isn’t long before you feel yourself loosening up a little.

“So… is Mary your real name?” you ask, casting him an expectant glance.

Before he can answer, however, both your attentions are diverted. In the living room before you, where most of the party seems to be congregated, a girl is sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing idly with an empty bottle of wine. She leans forward and gives the bottle a spin as she talks, and when it finally comes a stop, the mouth of it points to a taller girl leaning on the wall across from her.

“Ha, now you guys have to make out,” giggles another partygoer.

An nervous titter rises up from the other partiers.

Wordlessly, the girl on the floor gets to her feet, approaches the girl on the wall, and draws her lips downwards in a kiss. Several wolf whistles and appreciative hoots rise up from the crowd, and eventually the two part, looking flushed but grinning. The tall girl leaning against the wall grabs the other girl’s hand, and fishes out a marker to scribble a phone number across her palm.

Mary tilts his head back against the wall he’s leaning on and gives you a curious look out of the corner of his eye. You pretend like you don’t see his gaze linger on your body.

“Someone else spin!” demands a partygoer, and another person grabs the wine bottle.

“What is this, a party of stupid horny teenagers?” snorts someone else, and everyone drowns them out with a chorus of boos. Someone throws a pillow at them and everyone laughs.

“You wanna play?” asks Mary, his lip curving into a wolfish smirk. “Get someone’s tongue down your throat?”

“W-What?” Eyes widening, you tear your gaze away from the display before you to look him in the face. “No…” Not unless it’s yours. Even though you don’t say that last part, you can’t help but glance down at his lips as you think it.

“No?” He turns towards you, leaning now on one shoulder instead of two, and lets the side of his head rest lazily on the wall. That smirk only grows more wicked. “Oh, so you want your tongue in—”

A collective squeal rises up from the partiers congregated in the living room as the game of spin the bottle has now become a game of truth or dare, it seems. Instead of making out with a stranger, someone’s been dared to flash everyone. With a gasp of shock, you look away as a dude gets to his feet and starts fumbling with the fly of his pants.

Mary doesn’t look away.

“Do you want to play?” you ask him, looking up at his face.

“Always, kitten.” Tearing his gaze from the flasher, he looks down at you with those gorgeous dark eyes of his, and he gives you a wink.

“Fine.” The weed and beer have made you more confident—perhaps stupidly so. “Let’s play.”

Mary’s face splits into a crooked grin—a wicked flashing of teeth that does very little to soothe your nerves—and his hand grabs yours. You barely have time to grab another beer before he’s yanking you towards the circle of partygoers that’s begun to crowd around the spinning bottle.

You think maybe Mary’s going to sit beside you, but instead, he elbows his way into the circle across from you, and sits cross-legged on the floor. The game continues without interruption, and everyone decides if they’d rather kiss the person the bottle lands on, tell a truth, or do a dare.

Most people pick dare.

In the five minutes it takes for your turn to arrive, you’ve seen a lot of tits and ass from strangers. More than you’d ever care to see, really. You get the impression that these people aren’t exactly creative when it comes to thinking up dares. Or they’re just really horny. Most of the dares involve getting naked or showing off body parts.

Finally, it’s your turn.

You swallow hard, pointedly avoiding Mary’s gaze, and give the bottle a twist. It spins and spins and spins in a seemingly endless loop.

You chance a glimpse at Mary. Those dark eyes of his are hooded and staring at you with such an intensity, as if he’s reading every filthy thought you’ve ever had in your entire life and he’s imagining ways to sweetly torment you with them. Your stomach does a little somersault. Somehow, you just know where the bottle’s going to land. Mary’s lip twists into a subtle, wicked smirk, and the bottle comes to a stop.

It’s pointed to the girl just to Mary’s left.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Mary arches an eyebrow at you, an unasked question lurking in the inky depths of his eyes. But now the girl is asking the question and your attention is diverted away from him.

“Truth or dare?”

“...Dare, I guess.” You make direct eye contact with Mary as you say it. You think he looks a little impressed, but it’s hard to tell.

The girl chews her bottom lip in thought. “Dare you to…” She gives you an impish grin. “Let us look through the pics on your phone for one minute.”

A collective “ooooh” rises up from the congregation and several pair of eager eyes fall on you. A hot blush crawls up your cheeks, and as you fish your phone from your pocket, unlock it, and hand it to her, you silently pray you deleted those nudes you took a couple of weeks ago just for fun.

As your darer scrolls through your picture gallery, Mary leans to look over her shoulder, occasionally flicking his eyes up at you and smirking. The minute seems to drag on forever, and you busy yourself with taking sips of your beer, but you can’t help anxiously watching as they go through all your photos.

“Oh my God,” giggles your darer, and she turns your phone around to show you. “Cute selfie but is that a fucking dildo??”

A cackle rises up from the crowd of people as you look at the picture. You’d taken it a couple of days ago but never posted it to your social media for this exact reason. Sitting on the dresser in the background is a large, silky purple dildo. Face hot and red now, you snatch away the phone, grumbling under your breath as you stuff it back into your pocket.

“It’s my roommate’s,” you mumble, but no one hears you.

Mary gives a snorting giggle.

The person to your left gives the bottle a spin and the game continues. Several shotgunned beers, flashed body parts, eaten teaspoons of mustard, and one extremely loud streak later, it’s Mary’s turn.

The bottle lands on you. Mary cocks his head to one side, his eyes patient but there’s an unspoken challenge there that makes your pulse leap with anticipation.

“Dare.” He says it without even waiting to be asked.

“Okay…” You think for a moment, then flash him a grin of your own. “Dare you to sing us a verse from your favorite song.”

This seems to have finally flapped the unflappable Mary. His intense, challenging gaze falters a bit, replaced with utter bewilderment. He blinks, and a subtle blush rises to his cheeks, barely visible beneath the lines of dried blood. A thrill of pride surges through at the thought that you managed to surprise him.

“And no cheating, Goore,” says the girl beside him, elbowing his ribs gently. She flashes him a smug smirk. “They said sing, not growl.”

Mary casts her an irritated glower, before flicking his eyes back to you. For a moment, he contemplates, and his gaze holds yours the whole time. Someone turns down the music so that he can be heard better. With a clear of his throat, he closes his eyes, and begins singing.

I'm crucified Crucified like my savior Saintlike behavior A lifetime I prayed

I'm crucified For the holy dimension Godlike ascension Heavens away

A stunned silence follows this brief display. Everyone is staring at Mary with disbelief in their eyes, including you. Never would you have suspected that such an angelic voice could’ve come out of such a rough-looking guy. Several people clap, but Mary has eyes for only you. The intensity to his gaze fills you with both anxiety and elation. You’re unsure if there’s a punishment or a reward coming for you the next time your turn comes up.

You’re unsure which idea thrills you more.

The game continues, and a few uncreative rounds later, your spin finally selects Mary as your darer again.

He flashes you a mischievous grin, and your pulse spikes with adrenaline. By this point, you’ve had a couple more beers, and you’re really beginning to feel the effect. You’re a little braver, but only a little. A tiny, cowardly part of you wants to chicken out and pick truth, but Mary doesn’t even give you a choice.

“Dare you to make out with the hottest guy here.”

Fuck.

Judging from the smug grin and the intense smolder to his eyes, he knows he’s got you now. He cocks his head to one side, and his tongue pokes out to wet his lips, as if preparing himself for the inevitable.

Well, if he’s going to be so insufferable about it.

Holding his gaze, you turn to the guy immediately to your left, lean in, and capture his lips in a searing kiss. He grunts in surprise, but at least he reciprocates. Several hoots and whistles rise up from the crowd as the kiss continues on for a minute or two. You briefly toy with the notion of sliding into the stranger’s lap, but decide this will suffice for now. After a moment, your eyes open and you meet Mary’s gaze.

That insufferably smug look on his face has utterly evaporated. He stares at you, his expression hovering somewhere between heartbroken and incredulous. Then that, too, dissolves, and he looks away with a scowl.

“I need some air,” he mutters, and he gets to his feet.

Avoiding your gaze, he picks his way through the circle, and strides off. Guilt sinks its hot teeth into your stomach and you break away from your unsuspecting kissing victim.

“Mary, wait.”

With clumsy, drunken movements, you scramble to your feet, tripping only a little, and hurry after him. You find him out on the tiny balcony of the apartment, leaning on the railing and smoking a cigarette. Trying your best to be stealthy, you slip out onto the balcony. He doesn’t look up as you shyly approach the railing beside him.

“...I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Mary exhales a lungful of smoke, and casts you an unreadable glance out of the corner of his eye.

“For that, back there.” You frown. “I don’t know why I—“

“Forget about it.” He gives a shrug, turning his gaze back out to the glittering city stretching out before you, and takes another drag of his cigarette. “Got no fuckin’ reason to be mad, do I?”

Your heart sinks a little. He has a point, but you hate it anyway. Slowly, you shuffle a half step closer, until your arm lightly brushes against his, and look up at him. In your half-drunk state, you can’t find yourself to be ashamed of your ogling. He really is beautiful, even with lines of red dribbling down his face. The neon lights of the city below throw odd shadows across his features, highlighting the curve of his cheekbones, the crooked angularity to his nose, the definition of his brow. His lips look so soft and inviting. You find yourself studying them while biting your own.

“...It’s you, yanno,” you mumble quietly, rotating to lean your elbows on the railing. “I was just… I dunno, being stupid, I guess.” You look away from him, frowning at nothing in particular. “You know it’s you, that’s why you asked.”

“What’s me?” he asks, as he flicks the spent cigarette over the railing. With hooded eyes, he finally turns his head to look at you, and you just can’t resist anymore.

Wordlessly, you reach for his face and pull his lips down to meet yours. Obediently, he lets himself be pulled. He hums out a chuckle against your mouth, low and quiet. There’s some minor adjusting as he sidles closer, one hand sliding up to the back of your neck while the other yanks your hips against his, and his lips part in silent invitation. He tastes like beer and cigarettes and there’s some kind of unnameable metallic tang on his tongue, but holy fuck do you need more.

A soft, desperate moan escapes you, immediately swallowed by his kiss, and he adjusts more, sliding one of his thighs between your legs. You grind yourself against him with a whine. His hands fall to your hips, squeezing you and guiding you just right on his thigh. For a moment or two, he seems content with this—your lips on his, his tongue in your mouth, your crotch grinding against his thigh. With a groan through clenched teeth, he breaks the kiss and brings his lips to your ear.

“Better tell me what it is you’re after, little lamb,” whispers Mary, as your hands fumble with the overly-large belt buckle at his waist. “Or else I ain’t gonna fuckin’ know.”

“Want you,” you mumble incoherently, whining as he gives the thigh you’re riding a bounce. “Fuck me, please. Please.”

“Mm…” He makes a show of considering your proposal, cocking his head to one side. He leans in a little, and you think that he’s going to kiss you again, to get you going, and take it a step further. Then his face splits into a wicked grin.

“Nah.”

And he just pulls away.

You gasp in shock, your mouth hanging open in betrayal. As Mary Goore steps away from you, leaving you panting and needy and utterly unsatisfied, he gives a little cackle. So this is your punishment for disobeying his dare. God, what an asshole!

At the sliding glass door, Mary pauses, flashes you a shit-eating grin accompanied with a two-fingered salute in farewell, and disappears back inside.

What the fuck.

[guidedbygunpla]

Gundam REDUX side story Chapter 4: Just another boy, lost in the woods.

             Char and Lalah walked for a while, mostly in silence, both of their minds clear of thoughts, simply watching the waves crash against the shore they walked along.

             “have you ever walked along a beach before?” Lalah asked, after a long while

             “no, the colonies I grew up in on side 3 didn’t have any real bodies of water, and I have mostly been stationed inland or in space up til now…..it’s nice, if I were to ever live in a colony with a  body of water, or god forbid move to earth, I could see myself building a house alongside the ocean, this is so calming”              “why would you say god forbid when talking about moving to earth, I thought that was your fathers one true wish….to move back to earth”              “it was, he always…..wait, my father?”              “you can’t hide things from me, I can read your mind after all. It’s alright though I won’t tell anyone about it, I realize you have to keep this mask on in order to protect me, and save those girls in the lab. Sorry I should’ve told you I was probing your thoughts”              “…well, yes you should’ve, but now that its out there in the open, yes it was my fathers dream that humanity would get to come back to earth, but we can’t. most of the globe is just salt water and sand at this point, the colonies were built as a cage, but the world outside of the cage is so much worse now then when we were put into that cage. Every cylinder on a colony can grow enough food to feed 150% of its population, the earth….I doubt it could grow enough for even 30% of the people living out there now.”              there was another long pause as they stared out at the ocean, the body of a zaku floated into view, its paint peeling off, and the high carbon steel below showed through, rusted and destroyed, likely the only thing keeping it afloat was the helium stored in its tanks that had failed to explode or leak out              “so you know my real name then, don’t you Lalah”              “yea, Casval…..your father was named Zeon, at least that’s the name you know he was given when he helped found the Contolist Church. Something about hot water and wine”              “old catholic ideas mixed with space age realities.”              “he called you Cassie, and he called your sister Arty. I like those names” Lalah said as she turned and looked at Char, her green eyes looked other worldly on her, as if she was looking into his very soul, which she kind of was.

             “so you know everything about me then huh…and yet I know nothing about you, seems a tad bit unfair” Char said as he reached up and took his helmet off, and his visor along with it, the world looking far brighter, and far more real without the rose tinted glasses

             “well….what do you want to know? I don’t mind telling you about myself, but where should I start?”              the pair of them followed the beach into a small sea side town, or the remains of one. The town looked to have been abandoned in a hurry, with cars still sitting along the road, and doors to homes and shops hanging open.              “well, where did you grow up? When did you learn about your powers? How’d you find yourself out here? If you don’t mind me asking of course” Char asked, his voice cautious

             “well, I grew up in Hyderabad in India. My mother was an Arcologist working with the local colleges Colonial science division and my dad was a politician, nothing huge though, mostly just treasury work”              “ah the earth born elite, must’ve been nice”

             “ha… it was awful, so many responsibilities. I just wanted to live, but it was always you have to go to your violin lesson Geetika, you have to go to your cram classes Geetika, you have to be home by 4 Geetika, your GPA is getting too low again Geetika. I hated it…I just wanted to be free, to explore. My parents didn’t understand it.”

             “Geetika? Is that your real name?              “yes, I was born Geetika Acharya Prasanna.”

             “so where did Lalah come from, I’m assuming you know where the name Charles Aznable comes from, but where did Lalah Sune come from?”              “ do you mind if we go for a drive? My feet are getting awfully tired” Lalah said motioning towards a derelict car that was sitting alongside the road. It was a small orange convertible, sporty, something that would’ve cost a lot of money.              “fancy….but I should mention, I have no idea how to drive” char said running his hand through his hair with a laugh.

             “oh right, you always had a driver, so you never had to learn to drive anything other than a mobile suit. Don’t worry I can take care of that” Lalah said as she opened the door and reached below the dashboard, below the steering wheel and began to muck about with the wiring harness to the car, until eventually the engine sputtered to life, the smell of burning ethanol filling the air              “what is that smell?” Char asked aloud              “its alcohol, have you never been around a car before?” Lalah said, patting the passenger seat              “well of course I have, but in the colonies theyre all electric, makes more sense, since you live in something covered in solar panels “              “well on earth we run cars off of alcohol” Lalah said as she put the car into gear and took off down the road through this old seaside town

“makes sense I suppose, it is flammable, and the sound the engine makes is quite pleasant” Char said setting his helmet and Visor in the footwell next to his feet and trying to relax as Lalah drove

“lords above, you can really tell just how high born you are sometimes Casval” Lalah said

with a laugh “so yea, I changed my name to Lalah Sune when I ran away from home, I didn’t want my family to be able to find me, I really just wanted to be left alone. There was a movie out at the time, Farewell Summer, and the lead actress in it was named Lalah Sune, I thought it was a nice name, so I took it. What we’re your other questions again?” Lalah asked as she pulled onto the on ramp to one of the old highways that snaked across the American west.

             “well when did you learn about your powers?” Char asked as he sat back into the plush suede seats of the convertible              “I think I always knew, when I was a kid I told doctors that I heard voices, that it was hard to think sometimes because it was so loud in my head, they thought I was crazy. Put me on medication after medication to try to fix it, I’d say I was about ten when I realized I could sort of control it by focusing on one or two peoples thoughts and then I would only hear those few voices, and when it was with people I loved, people I wanted to spend time with, it got much easier. It wasn’t until I met my first real boyfriend that I realized I was genuinely hearing their thoughts. I realized I could hear what he thought of me, and see what he fantasized about….it was quite freeing, knowing how much someone loves you, understanding them completely like that”

             “ugh, I’m not sure I could handle knowing what the people I’ve been with through the years thought of me. I’d feel so exposed” Char said laying his head back into the seat, watching the sky fly past over head as the sun began to set across the sea

             “well I mean, you’ve only ever loved Garma and another boy from when you were much younger right?”

             “I always feel bad that I can’t remember his name, he was my first kiss and I cant recall his name for the life of me. It was on a scout outing, my first real taste of life outside of Zeon and its trappings, no one treated me like royalty, I was just another boy in the woods. He told me he liked my eyes, and then he kissed me when the camp counselors were away….”

             “that’s why you fell in love with Garma right? Because when you saw him at your fathers funeral, he looked like the boy right? Same jet black hair, with the little curls in it?”

             “god there really are no secrets with you are there?….well yea, Garma looked like him sure, and he treated me the same way too, like I was just another boy lost in the woods. It was hard not to fall in love with him”

             “it is a shame you had to kill him, I can tell that thought is weighing heavily on your soul. But you felt you had no choice….couldn’t let your fathers ghost watch you become a member of the family that killed him….I am sorry you went through all of that Char.”

They stopped the car, as the road ahead of them was smashed and destroyed, a body of a Gouf lay shattered across it, oil and reactor coolant pooling up on the road ahead of them

             “thank you Lalah, it means a lot.”              “you saved me from a laboratory where every person in it would think about slicing my head open to see what was inside, like I was a pinata. I owe you more thanks than I could ever give.”              “I did the only moral thing” Char said turning to look at her, her green eyes again looked as if they held the entire cosmos within them

             “so often in war we want to be the moral and upstanding person, but within your heart I see that you know you cant always be right, that sometimes you have to be evil so that the right thing can be won out.” Lalah said as she turned the car around and headed back towards the flanagin institute and the Gow Char had come in on

               “so where will you go now? Now that you are free?” Char asked her

             “I will follow you Char, I know if I leave your side, my powers will be discovered again, and next time they might not take so much time to study me.”              “of course.”

 _______________________________

When Char returned to the flanagin institute he found Dozle was quite upset with him having broken Lalah out, saying that she was going to be a vital part of their newtype weapons program. Char informed him that he was going to train Lalah to be a pilot, and this calmed him somewhat. When char broached the question of the clones in the basement, and if he knew whose children they were, Dozle simple said

             “in war, sacrifices have to be made, and some men are strong enough to make that sacrifice.”

Char knew then that Dozle knew they were Gihrens children, he knew. He just chose to accept it as it was, as a fact of the world. An evil that had to be committed so that the right thing would win out in the end. No different to Dozle than killing Garma had been to Char. What a twisted world this had become Char thought to himself.

             He took Lalah aboard the Gow, and to his quarters, as an officer he had a private cabin, nothing outlandish. But he did have a private bedroom. Living quarters with a kitchenette and a bathroom to himself. He insisted on a second bed be brought in for Lalah, so she didn’t have to be near the common soldiers they were transporting as well.

             “I hope this is alright with you Lalah” Char said as they wheeled the spare bed into his quarters

             “oh its much better than I expected, in the institute I was kept in a padded cell, so this is definitely a step up” Lalah said with a laugh

             “I know this goes without saying Lalah, but everything we discussed today, no one can..”

             “remember, Char I can read your thoughts, I can see everything your minds eye can create. It’s fine, all your secrets are safe with me.”

             “right, of course. If you’d like I could go check with some of the female crew onboard, see if I could get some spare clothes for you, I think the only thing you took with you was that yellow dress”

             “that won’t be necessary, I typically just sleep nude. Growing up in india, sleeping nude in front of a fan was typically the only way to feel cold enough to sleep” she said with a side eye to Char, as small smile on her lips

             “oh….of course, well I will make sure to knock before leaving my room to come out here into the living area then, so as not to disturb you” char said looking away sheepishly

             “are you bothered by this Char? I know you find me attractive, and surely you can tell, even without the ability to read minds that I clearly think highly of you” Lalah said as she walked towards Char and wrapped her arms around his neck. Char felt himself expanding, his mind growing larger than his head, the walls around him disappeared, all he could see was swirling dust and stars, it was like he was floating above the milky way itself, the sounds of the waves crashing, and the feeling of floating at sea.

             “there is nothing to fear Char, I can feel you in ways that I have never felt a man before, you are a Newtype like me, we just need to unlock your powers, I can help you do that”

             “Lalah I don’t know what I am feeling right now, this is quite overwhelming”

             “we are melting into one another, our minds are becoming one, isn’t it a wonderful feeling Cassie”

             “it feels like I’m going home, I feel welcomed, I feel whole”

             “Char if you want me to stop, please just tell me….but I can tell you want this too, something inside both of us craves this”

             “I do, but Lalah, I’ve never, I mean….I’ve only ever been with Garma, I’m not sure I’ll know how to”

             “you are inside of my mind now Char, you’ll know”

               The world was a blizzard, a fire, a tropical storm. Small masses swirled dust around them until a planet formed from them. Humanity was formed, and they explored every inch of this ball of dust, until they could only explore what was above them, they saw the stars they saw the heavens. They touched the very face of god.

             Waves crashed, and Char felt his consciousness expand more and more. He could feel what lalah felt, he could see time, he could see the past, he could see the future, he could feel what had happened, what would happen. Lalahs third eye guiding him. He saw Lalah and him, in a small farm house on side 6, he could feel there was a family inside that house, that love would blossom in that small farm house.              was this his future?

                           Was he falling in love with Lalah?

Was this his past?

                                                         Was this a home his mother and father had shared before Zeon?

             He felt waves crashing as he made love with Lalah, it was different than making love to a man. But not wildly so, he had never imagined falling in love with a woman, he had never imagined himself falling in love for that fact. With Garma he always felt a pang of guilt when they were intimate, as Char knew how this was going to end. With Lalah he still felt guilt, but it was because of Garma, that if his fathers religion was right, Garma was likely watching him right now, making love to a woman less than a week after he had killed him.

             Garma didn’t deserve that, and Char didn’t deserve this

                           He heard Lalahs voice in his mind

                                         This is Life, none of us deserve it. It is a gift. And a curse. But we are different we aren’t tied to life the same way as others, our minds are free of it

               Char then found himself making love to Garma, they were both older, and there was a large bay window in the room, overlooking the Californian beaches he had seen earlier.              there were photos on the wall, Char in a tuxedo, and Garma in a white Zeon dress uniform, just covered in medals. A Contolist priest behind them.              was this a world where they had won the war? A world where Garma and him had married?

What was happening?

               He found himself now, a teenager, riding horses through the woods, the boy from camp was there with him, along with Garma, and a teenage Lalah, all riding horses through the forests of Side 3. The horse he rode on was familiar, it was Honeydew. His horse from childhood, She was okay, she was alive. She was fully grown

               “Lalah what are you showing me?” He asked concerned, this was terrifying, and wonderful

“as newtypes, we aren’t tied to reality the same as other people, when we’re together we can experience any reality we want”

He felt his mortal body climax, somewhere in the wake of this all, in the very distant part of space where surely his human form still lay, making love with Lalah

Char felt his body shrinking, he lay now as a baby, laying in his mothers arms as she rocked him, and sang to him, trying to help him sleep.

             He felt the world shrinking too, as he came back into his own body, Lalah held him, as he regained some semblance of consciousness.

             “I am sorry if that was overwhelming, I have never been intimate with another person like myself before, I wasn’t aware it would be so powerful.” Lalah said as she craned Chars lips to hers, kissing him softly

             “were those just fantasies? Or was any of that real?” Char asked as he sat up, he realized they were laying in his bed, and judging by the clock on his night stand they had made love for about 3 and a half hours.

             “I don’t entirely know, I know anytime I’ve made love I’ve ended up there, and when I was at Flanagan there would be times when I spoke with those experiments, I would feel my mind begin to expand the same as it did during the beginning throughs of passion, but I have only ever met 3 people outside of Flanagan like myself, and you are the first of them that I have ever made love with. I would occasionally feel my mind expand around the others, and moments where our minds would meld and we would fall into that place, where it feels like you’re in outerspace, but never like that, where we saw other worlds together.”              “I need you to teach me how to use this power Lalah, I want to be able to control it, I want to explore all of those places again” Char said as he kissed Lalah again

               “of course, I owe you more thanks than I could ever give”

[anomander-dragnipurake]

Possessed Chapter Three: Mario

Without the adrenaline coursing through him, the pain in Luigi’s arm was so much worse. It throbbed in time with the rather horrid headache that was rapidly setting in. He wanted nothing more than to lie down in a dark room and curl around his arm in wretched misery. But despite how bad it was, King Boo’s only complaint was that the blood leaking from it and soaking into his sleeve and getting all over his front too ruined the look he’d been going for.

‘It’s not my meat suit,’ he explained. ‘So I have no reason to care if it gets damaged.’

Well Luigi cared and he would very much prefer it not be. He had no say in that though. King Boo didn’t even seem inclined to bandage his arm because he was just like that.

Instead he focused on E. Gadd and ensuring he did as he was told and freed all the boos in the three vaults he’d kept them in. As soon as they were all released back into the wild, Luigi got an uncomfortably strong sense of King Boo’s happiness about it and this situation as a whole. He was almost tempted to cling to it to escape his escape his misery more but didn’t; he didn’t want to share in King Boo’s joy about any of this.

Next came the destruction of the equipment that had captured and held the boos, including the Poltergust E. Gadd had been seemingly been in the process of repairing before he tried to use it defend himself with it. King Boo stepped in to do that himself, using a mix of magic and Luigi’s fists and feet and eventually even a crow bar.

He was ruthless, zapping, punching, kicking, smashing, until E. Gadd’s machines were reduced to a pile of metal and wires. It made the pains Luigi was already experiencing worse and introduce new ones. And King Boo didn’t stop at the vaults and Poltergusts either, he started going to town on everything else in the lab too, his rage fueled by a personal vendetta.

E. Gadd tried to protest a few times but King Boo wasn’t listening, he gave up when King Boo threatened to kill him if he didn’t shut up. Polterpup stayed by him, always placing himself between him and King Boo growling ferociously whenever the latter moved too close. Overall, it was bad, stressful time for everyone except for King Boo.

“There, you’re done” E. Gadd said what felt like forever later when King Boo’s anger seemed to finally be spent and everything in the lab had been reduce to little more than piles of rubble. “Now release him.”

Panting a little from exertion, King Boo turned to face him with a grin, resting the crowbar against Luigi’s shoulder. “When did I say I was going to do that? I don’t think I even implied it as a possibility.”

E. Gadd gasped and glared. “But… you can’t… You got what you…”

“He’s my puppet, I’m not giving him up.” Lifting his chin, King Boo tossed the crow bar to the side and started for the exit. “Lucky for you though, I’ve decided to let you live. Leaving you alive after wrecking your lab, destroying your life’s work, unable to take revenge against me without hurting your friend even more than he’s already hurting is better vengeance anyway.” ‘If he attacks, I’ll change my mind though, I don’t like disrespect.’

Thankfully, E. Gadd just muttered a few more attempts at a protest that King Boo ignored completely. He followed King Boo out and to the car, only giving up when King Boo slammed the car door shut.

‘Let’s go pay Mario a visit now, huh?’ King Boo said as he backed out of the driveway, running over E. Gadd’s mailbox in the process.

Just when things seemed they couldn’t get any worse too. … Please don’t. But… no amount of begging would convince King Boo to change his mind. He only took pleasure in it and thus… Luigi didn’t even try very hard. … King Boo laughed out loud about that.

 -

By the time they reached Peach’s Castle, Luigi was tired enough that he probably would’ve been able to fall right asleep even with the pain in his arm. The bright sunlight as King Boo walked his body through the courtyard hurt his eyes and made him feel unwell – part of that might be blood loss though. Though it was nothing compared to the dread growing in him at the thought of Mario seeing him like this; a pitiful sorry state, actively violated by King Boo.

What was Mario going to do or think or say? Would he believe that this was Luigi’s fault somehow? How disgusted would he be? Would he even…

“Luigi?” It was a toad, he approached King Boo and Luigi hadn’t even noticed.

“I’m looking for Mario,” King Boo said, attempting to speak like Luigi.

“What’s up with the uh…” Toad trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his face. “And why are you dressed like that? And what happened to your arm? That’s not… blood is it? I don’t like blood.”

King Boo held back a sigh of annoyance. “I-I need to talk to Mario. It’s important. Do you know where he is?” His imitation wasn’t the worst in the world but with everything else it shouldn’t be at all convincing. … Unfortunately, the castle toads had never paid much attention to Luigi so this one looking like he believed it was not much of a surprise.

“Uh… uh… I’m not sure. Probably in the castle somewhere, maybe his room. You uh… should probably get that looked at if it is blood… it doesn’t look good.” At least it wasn’t actively bleeding anymore though, right?

“Yeah, sure, I’ll do that.” King Boo turned away to start for the castle again. ‘Toads are annoying, how do you put up with them?’

Luigi should respond in defense of the toads but considering how that one had just mostly ignored the fact that something was very blatantly wrong here he wasn’t even really sure he wanted to. And he lacked the energy to really try anyway.

As always, the door to the castle was unlocked. The toads guarding it reacted to Luigi’s current appearance much the same way the first one had, letting King Boo enter with little questioning. Ugh! How did they not see the crown and think ‘King Boo’? They’d never been the smartest folk around but surely they couldn’t be that stupid? … Then again though, other than the toads who’d come to the hotel with Peach, none of the castle toads had ever seen King Boo so maybe they just didn’t know.

‘Or maybe they just hate you. It wouldn’t surprise me.’ King Boo smirked as he strode freely into the castle.

Maybe you should just shut up.

King Boo laughed internally. ‘Oh, getting angry now, huh? Sure did take a while.’

Luigi refused to respond. Everything he did or said only ever seemed to give King Boo cause to taunt him some more. So… he was just going to stop thinking for a while instead. … Too bad that was really hard to do.

The entrance hall seemed to be empty. So were many of the rooms and halls except for the occasional toad. Most were too busy to pay King Boo much mind but the ones that did, all believed his only half decent Luigi impersonation, expressing nothing but concern for his obviously sorry state. None of them knew where Mario was though, that was a relief.

Maybe Mario was out somewhere doing something with Peach or Yoshi or anyone else. Hopefully wherever he was, he’d stay there until something happened and King Boo was no longer a problem. … What were the chances of that happening though? … King Boo’s response to that thought was a hearty laugh.

After searching half the castle, they ended up in the entrance hall again. Before King Boo could start for the other half, the sound of the entrance door opening drew his gaze. … It was Mario!

‘Finally!’ King Boo was utterly delighted. Luigi was utterly the opposite.

Mario had spotted him too, pausing for a second before coming further in. “Luigi?” His brows were furrowed with worry as he came closer. “Toad told me you were looking for me. Are you… okay?”

No, Luigi was not okay. He’d never been less okay in his entire life. He desperately wanted to tell Mario that and... he desperately wanted Mario to save him.

King Boo laughed out loud, twisting Luigi’s face into an evil grin. “Hey Mario, it’s been a while. Though really, I don’t know how long it’s been, it’s hard to keep track of time while in captivity.”

Only a few feet away now, Mario stopped, his face hardening. “Who are you? And why do you look so much like my brother?”

“Can’t you guess based off the crown?” King Boo gestured to it. “And I look like your brother because in a way I am.”

No, you’re not!

Mario was silent for a few seconds before it seemed to click. “King Boo?”

“Yup!”

Mario rushed forward to grab Luigi by his shirt front. The look on his face said he wanted to punch King Boo and King Boo was going to let him. “What did do you do to him?”

“Nothing actually, well, other than steal his meat suit anyway.”

Mario’s grip loosened as he stepped back, a look of horror coming over his face. “Is he… if you…”

“Nah, he’s still in here.” King Boo winked as he tapped the side of his head. “Which is the whole point of this. You can’t do anything to me without hurting your bro even more than you’re going to be hurting me. It’s brilliant, isn’t it? I should’ve thought of this a long time ago instead of trusting Helen to do anything with her stupid hotel.” He did not like Helen, her obsession with him made him uncomfortable. … If only Luigi could do something with that knowledge or at least find it funny. “This is better vengeance anyway, don’t you think?”

Mario opened his mouth but failed to say anything for several seconds. “Why… just why?”

“Because I can and because I wanted to.”

Luigi willed Mario to run away now before King Boo could hurt him or worse. He’d have a better shot at fighting back than E. Gadd had but unable to fight back properly King Boo might still be able to…

Please, you’ve had your fun, please just leave now. Don’t… don’t hurt him… please. Luigi wasn’t even begging to be let go, he just didn’t want to watch and feel as his hands were used to hurt the people he loved. He wouldn’t be able to take that, it was too much.

King Boo was absolutely delighted with both the look of useless fury on Mario’s face and with Luigi’s desperate begging. He’d won, he was finally victorious over his enemies at last. No more would boos be sucked up into vacuums or bullied. He’d done what no other person had ever done before, he’d utterly defeated the Mario bros. And now he was going to have a little fun with that.

No… please don’t. Luigi pulled his mind away from King Boo’s thoughts as much as he could but they were too intense to get away from completely. Please don’t hurt him.

King Boo took a single menacing step towards Mario and… Something hit the back Luigi’s head with a loud bang, bringing an intense flash of pain followed by blessed nothing.

***

Mario gaped as Luigi’s body crumbled to the floor in a heap. He’d seen Peach sneaking up on King Boo from behind but he hadn’t expected her to whack him with a frying pan.

“That’s my bro,” he said gesturing uselessly at his poor brother who’d already clearly been through so much.

Peach nodded as she lowered the frying pan. “I know. But we needed to stop King Boo before he did something or before he left, bringing Luigi with him.” Yes, but surely there were less violent ways to do that. “So I knocked him out. Now all we have to do is take him to the doctor so she can look at his arm and uh… maybe head now too. And then we’ll lock him in a cell until we figure out how to get King Boo out of him.”

Mario could only groan. While that was a good plan and the only one they really had, it meant Luigi would most likely suffer even more. Why couldn’t there be a fix now?

“Come on,” Peach said as she put the pan away and crouched down to pull Luigi into a more upright position by his arms. “I need your help lifting him.”

Before obeying, Mario bent down to grab King Boo’s crown. It was much smaller now but still obvious. Maybe removing it would… Nope, it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard Mario pulled on it. So it did seem to be tied to his possession of Luigi’s body somehow but not in a way that made it any easier to fix.

“It’ll be okay,” Peach whispered as Mario gave up on that. “We’ll fix this, I promise.”

Feeling a bit choked up, Mario could only nod his thanks. Hopefully for Luigi’s sake, she was right.

 -

While the castle doctor was patching up Luigi, Mario called E. Gadd. Surely if anyone knew how to fix this, it’d be him.

“Mario,” he almost shouted into the phone as soon as he picked it up. “Watch out for Luigi he’s…”

“Possessed by King Boo,” Mario interrupted. “You knew?” And didn’t think to call and share that news, really? It’s not like Luigi was his baby brother or anything, so why would he need to know something like that?

“Well uh… now that I think about, I should’ve called to tell you but uh… my lab’s in a bit of state.” He was too busy cleaning his lab to… “King Boo was rather thorough in destroying everything…” Oh. “… more than just the boo stuff too which wasn’t part the deal. Neither was freeing Luigi like I thought… hoped. He left me alive though so… there’s that. … I should’ve called.”

“What happened?”

“Well, Booigi came to my lab and tried to kill me. He would’ve succeeded if Polterpup hadn’t jumped him. Then he said he’d let me live, if I freed his boos and destroyed the boo vaults but he destroyed everything else too and I watched because… there was nothing I could do and I thought maybe he’d let Luigi go after he got what he wanted but he didn’t and…” He made a wordless sound of frustration accompanied by the sound of his fist banging something metal.

With a sigh, Mario informed him on what was happening over here and the general plan which relied heavily on him. Everything in his lab being destroyed didn’t bode well for their plans though but it was still all they had.

E. Gadd hemmed and hawed for a few seconds after Mario finished talking. “Well, with my lab the way it is, I can’t guarantee anything but I’ll try. It might take a while though.” That… wasn’t surprising. Hopefully Luigi could hold on for a while longer.