#and belle went through like. the worst two years of her life. completely off the deep end. music + the band was the only thing she had

[arlathen]

i can't believe id written all this convoluted Lore for my infamous mc only for it to be made canon that mc has two married slightly distant parents. like. sorry no she doesn't 🫶

[kaistarus]

Enchanted

Chapter 4

Pair: Nishinoya X Reader

Words: 4.6K

Summary: When your best friend enters a relationship with a prince your life changes in ways you never thought possible. You gain new friendships, learn dangerous secrets, and learn that love may exist for you after all...

A/N: This is for the like two people who still ask for updates on this fic... It's been multiple years buuuuuutt I'm still kicking lmao love and appreciate you <3 better late than never right??

Prev/Next

The sunrise trickled in through the bakery's front windows, casting the store in peach hues that chased away the creeping Autumn chill. The cacophony of Yachi’s rush to complete set-up before the early risers were welcome background noises, as opposed to the usual morning doves screeching aside your bedroom. Unhelpfully, you picked freshly sliced banana bread rolling each piece into miniscule dough balls before plopping them in your mouth.

A deep sigh escaped as you dropped your forehead against the counter’s course wood. It was too early to be alive.

“You know, when you offered to help me open the bakery I thought you’d be, I don’t know, helping?” Yachi appeared, startling you by roughly placing a tray of tarts on the counter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, propping yourself up uselessly with your cheek against your palm. You watched her swiftly arrange various baked goods–realistically you probably would’ve slowed her down. “I’m not feeling very motivated.”

“Shouldn’t you be in a good mood? I thought crushes made people all smiles and blushy,” Yachi stepped back to admire her display before pointing her empty tray accusingly at you. “You’ve been nothing but grouchy and depressing the past weeks.”

A warmth crept up your neck which you expertly covered with a sneer. After confiding in your friends that you maybe, possibly had more-than-friend feelings toward Nishinoya they haven’t failed to remind you at least five times a day. Which didn’t bode well for your attempting to forget the whole problem existed.

“It feels more like I’m going to throw up and I constantly want to punch him for ruining my ability to have a coherent thought,” you grumbled. At the mention, his stupid amber eyes flitted across your thoughts and you groaned exasperatedly. “He’s the absolute worst.”

“A tragedy I’m sure.”

As your glare turned on her the bell above the bakery’s front door chimed for the day’s first customers. Perhaps some mindless customer service would help distract you from a certain annoying royal guard. Yachi’s bakery was on the opposite side of Karasuno from the castle–you were about as safe as you could get after all.

“--me walk all the way here just so you can–”

“If you’re so sure she’s not here then what’s the problem?”

Your shoulders stiffened when your eyes snapped toward the entryway. Standing there was a relatively tall man with a shaved head, dressed in commoner clothing except for a shirt that detailed the castle insignia–a crow. Although you knew you’d never met him there was a strong tug in your mind that you should know him; as if his name was on the tip of your tongue.

Perhaps you could have remembered if it weren’t for the unfortunately, incredibly familiar man trailing after him. Your heart had mindlessly leaped at the sound of his voice and now it raced rapidly as your gaze remained glued to him. Nishinoya’s hair was flattened, blonde strands rested haphazardly against his forehead in a way that left you itching to run your fingers through them and brush them back. He dressed like his friend, the only thing signifying their roles was the castle crest on their shirts.

“She never gets up this early. Even if she did do you know how weird it’d be if I randomly… was…” Nishinoya trailed off as your eyes locked. “Aw, shit.”

His friend glanced between you before a sly grin spread across his face. Nishinoya’s eyes went wide and he attempted to grab him, “Wait, Tanaka, please I–”

“(Y/N)?”

You took in the man’s devious smile as he leaned against the counter, effectively blocking Nishinoya from view. That night in the castle’s garden rose from your memories. Kiyoko and a guard whispering low, her smile that had given you hope, Nishinoya pulling you back panicked.

“Yes,” you stuttered out, avoiding his eyes. Afraid he’d see the recognition there. “Um, and you are?”

“Tanaka, at your service,” he gave a mock bow, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You have?” You asked, eyes flickering toward Nishinoya who’d reddened significantly.

“You have?” Yachi piped in excitedly beside you, unhelpfully adding to the chaos.

“Oh yeah, Nishinoya never shuts up about you.”

“Not true,” Nishinoya countered. “I shut up all the time about you. I barely even talk honestly.”

You scoffed. “What a dream.”

Nishinoya managed a weak glare over Tanaka’s shoulder but was disappointedly cut off by Tanaka’s uproarious laughter. A twinge of annoyance struck noting Nishinoya’s clear discomfort, only made worse when Tanaka slung an arm around his shoulders to root him firmly in place.

“You really weren’t kidding man,” Tanaka said approvingly, shaking Nishinoya who groaned in distress.

You tilted your head, but before getting clarification Yachi asked, “So what are you both doing out here?”

“Great question,” Nishinoya muttered.

“I was just craving a muffin for breakfast,” Tanaka waved off the curiosity.

“At the crack of dawn?” You crossed your arms, giving him a skeptical once-over. “On the other side of town?”

“Food always tastes better after a long walk in the fresh morning air.”

You and Yachi exchanged a glance in disbelief. The coincidence of whatever show Tanaka was putting on felt too suspicious for this casual run-in. Nonetheless, Yachi began helping him choose between the various muffins available. Meanwhile, Nishinoya played an excellent game of avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“So, (Y/N),” Tanaka said, pulling your attention away from the other royal guard. “What are your plans for today?”

That seemed to capture Nishinoya’s attention, frantically looking between you in alarm. You raised an apprehensive brow, answering, “Helping Yachi.”

“Help is a word,” Yachi snorted. “She’s free.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Well, Noya and I were just about to head over to the lake–”

“You were just telling me how incredibly uninvited I was.” Nishinoya interrupted, but Tanaka bulldozed through him.

“--and I think you’d really enjoy it.” Tanaka leaned over the counter. “You know who will be there too. She’s been wanting to meet you.”

You blinked, slowly processing his cryptic message before your eyes shot wide. Kiyoko. A warmth spread through your cheeks–he knew. Either Nishinoya had confessed the slip-up or they’d spotted you too.

“Uh, maybe I could…” You glanced for Nishinoya’s reaction. His cheeks were a deep red, eyebrows furrowed with a piercing glare targeted at Tanaka. Your stomach rolled with the familiar nausea. “I don’t think Nishinoya would like that very much.”

He turned to you baffled, any trace of anger vanished when your eyes met. “I would.”

You blinked, attempting to divert your focus anywhere aside from the rapid pace of your heart as his amber gaze intensified. “I don’t want to overstep,” you added.

“You couldn’t over–” A crease appeared between his brow as he struggled to find the right words. “I prefer it when you’re around.”

Nishinoya’s gaze was too earnest, his smile leaving you baffled at how easily he could speak his mind. You hadn’t realized how embarrassingly long you’d been staring until Yachi began lightly nudging your side.

“Oh, uh, okay. Yeah, I’ll go,” you fumbled out, glancing at Tanaka who wore a shit-eating grin.

“Excellent.” The mischievous tone he did nothing to hide gave you a flicker of regret. That was until you glanced back at Nishinoya’s dopey grin. “Well, I’ve gotta head out to pick up milady but surely Noya’s got it from here.”

Nishinoya’s face dropped in panic, “what?”

Tanaka was out the door before any arguments could ensue; the bell’s lingering chime and a few absent muffins were the only signals he’d even been there. Nishinoya stiffly turned toward you, “I guess we should…” He gestured toward the door and you nodded absentmindedly.

As Yachi guided you around the counter it struck you that you hadn’t been alone with Nishinoya for months. Since that bizarre invitation to the castle, you had only seen each other under the pretense of his guarding Prince Kageyama. You had grown used to the buffer of your friends. When your heart beat a little too fast or the urge to touch him grew dangerously strong, they were always there to divert attention.

What were you meant to do now?

The early Autumn chill still clung to the air as you exited the bakery, drifting past various storefronts filled with early risers. Your matching footsteps echoed against desolate cobblestone streets. Nishinoya seemed lost in thought and although your walk remained fairly quiet, you were only filled with peace; as though this was a routine morning activity.

“Uh, it’ll just be a few more minutes to the treeline.” He nodded toward where the road shifted to a dirt path. Several yards further you could just spot the forest line.

“Kiyoko’s going to be there?” You asked, taking his grunt as a yes. “Where is this place? I didn’t know there was a lake out this way.”

“It’s pretty secluded. I found it while exploring the woods,” Nishinoya said with a smile, giving an eye-roll as he added. “Tanaka’s pretty much taken it over recently though. Haven’t been there in months.”

“You just wander into forests often?”

“When I was a kid sure,” he shrugged.

“How long have you lived in Karasuno?” You’d lived in Karasuno your whole life and certainly you’d remember running into him… because he’s obnoxious and weird; no other reason.

He side-eyed you, looking apologetic in his silence.

“I forgot. Guardian Deity, top secret information,” you grumbled. “So dramatic.”

He chewed his bottom lip before quietly adding, “I moved to the castle when I was thirteen.”

You paused, watching him continue ahead. “So, six years?”

“Eight.”

Your jaw dropped, rushing to catch up with him once more. “You’re twenty-one!?”

His cheeks dusted pink and he eyed you defiantly, “Yeah, twenty-two in October so… what’s that look for?”

“Nothing, I just thought you were younger than me.”

“Not into older guys?” He said with a sly smirk making you puff your cheeks in annoyance. You marched toward the forest line with your head high, ignoring his teasing calls behind you.

“Hey, c’mon, you’re going the wrong way.” He laughed, changing your marching direction by lightly adjusting your shoulders. When you both reached the supposedly right entrance to the forest you stared at him dubiously.

The ‘entrance’ looked like any other section of the tree line–overgrown grass and plant life, trees too close with branches hanging low, and roots entangled on uneven terrain. There were no clear paths to follow and you were suddenly suspicious this was all a prank.

“You have to go a little off-trail, but that’s why it’s so well hidden.”

“A little off-trail?” You scoffed, gesturing to the overgrown bush you’d need to climb over. “Nishinoya. There’s no trail to stray off.”

“But that’s half the fun,” he smirked, amused by your horror.

“I am not going in there.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“We get mauled by a wild animal,” you began listing on your fingers. “I trip and hit my head on a rock and fall into a coma, or you trick me and murder me where no one will find my body.”

“I would never let any of those happen to you.” Nishinoya fought back a smile, “And I hear you’re pretty good in a fight so I’d be stupid to attempt murdering you.”

You tapped your chin. “It’s true. I have learned how to properly hold a sword.”

“A force to be reckoned with I fear.”

You sighed in defeat, “this better be the greatest lake I’ve ever seen.”

“I would never lead you astray,” he swore with a hand over his heart. You rolled your eyes at the theatrics before he held the hand toward you, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. “For safety.”

You glanced at Nishinoya, his amber eyes that couldn’t quite meet yours and his outstretched hand. With a moment’s hesitation, you took it, allowing him to lace your fingers together with a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

For safety.

He did his best to guide you through the densest of the forest, holding back branches that stuck too close and mapping out paths that held the least stray rocks or wild roots. Whenever you stumbled he reflexively steadied you before disaster. Anytime curses began flowing from your mouth he just bounced back with encouraging words and promises that the worst was almost over.

The positivity almost frustrated you more than snippy comebacks, but eventually, the woods cleared enough you could walk side-by-side without fear of consistent stumbling. Neither of you mentioned your still entwined hands, and neither attempted to separate them. After several minutes you had grown used to the warmth of his palm, the comfort of safety it brought you. Part of you dreaded releasing him, maybe you didn’t mind the forest.

That part died the moment an exit came into view.

“Slow down,” Nishinoya laughed, dragged behind you as you broke through the treeline. Your jaw went slack when your eyes adjusted to the sunlight reflecting off the shimmering lake. The grass surrounding it was a lush green, untouched by anyone aside from wildlife. And the rocky shore glistened as waves brushed against it.

You spotted Tanaka and Kiyoko seated around a handmade firepit, surrounded by a long log and several larger rocks dragged out from the woods. Tanaka waved you over and fearing more relentless teasing at Nishinoya’s expense you swiftly dropped his hand. You didn’t have time to process the disappointed look he sent you before jogging over to the others.

“You actually came!” Tanaka said, standing to greet you before the firepit.

“I said I would,” you half-smiled, glancing behind him at a waving Kiyoko who smiled politely.

“Kiyoko. This is (Y/N),” he clasped you on the shoulder which Nishinoya promptly swatted away. “She’s the one Noya’s been talking non-stop about.”

“Oh my god, no I haven’t,” Nishinoya grumbled, shoving Tanaka away. “I talk a reasonable and appropriate amount.”

“It is rather often,” Kiyoko added with a hand covering her smile. “I feel like we’re already close friends with how much I know of you.”

“Kiyoko,” Nishinoya whined in betrayal. Tanaka hurried back over, effectively pinning Nishinoya with an arm slung around his shoulder.

“Did you know he took two months of overtime to get you invited to that party at the castle?” Tanaka asked, tightening his hold on Nishinoya as his face became horror-stricken. “This is his first day off in forever.”

“Oh my god, that explains so much.” You stared at your hands as you processed. You knew it made no logical sense for you to get that invitation–Hinata’s friend or not.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” Nishinoya growled, before going weightless and pulling Tanaka to the ground with him. You stared baffled as they took turns grappling each other to the ground.

“Should we be worried about that?” You asked Kiiyoko, pointing to where Tanaka was seated firmly atop a flailing Nishinoya.

She simply shrugged. “They should be done in a few minutes.”

“Of course…” You plopped down onto the log across the fire from Kiyoko. How often do those two fight for her to wave it off so casually?

“It’s nice to have someone else around,” Kiyoko commented.

“I actually wanted to apologize,” you blurted feeling warmth creep up your neck. “I didn’t mean to–at the castle, I should’ve–”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” she raised a confused brow. “Nishinoya trusts you. That’s enough for me.”

You fiddled with the log’s bark beneath you, fighting down the erratic beating of your heart at those implications. There was so much you wanted to ask Kiyoko, so many things you could learn from her. That happiness you’d thought a fairytale danced in her eyes even now as she watched the wrestling behind you.

You opened your mouth, closed it. Struggling to find words before she interrupted your thoughts. “You want to know how I met Tanaka?”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable,” you rushed.

“No, it’s okay. I would like to.” Her smile diverted to her feet as she said, “I’ve never been able to share it before.”

You blinked in surprise. The fact that she had to keep such a strong development hidden from everyone twisted your heart painfully. Even throughout whatever was developing for you, you had friends teasing you the whole way. You couldn’t imagine going through it alone.

“When I first arrived in Karasuno my family spent majority time at the palace,” she began, staring off into the distance while examining her memories. “They encouraged me to spend time with Prince Kageyama, so I was with him and Nishinoya most days.”

You nodded encouragingly, truthfully excited for any crumbs of Nishinoya's background you might be receiving. Kiyoko hesitated a moment before continuing.

“Prince Kageyama wasn’t interested in entertaining guests, so I mostly talked to Nishinoya. A bit of a flirt I’ll admit, although looking back I think it was more for entertainment than a show of interest.” She rolled her eyes and you smiled, ignoring the unreasonable pang of jealousy. “Then one day I spotted Nishinoya wandering the halls off-duty, but he wasn’t alone.”

A smile quirked on her lips. “Tanaka saw me and before we could even do introductions he was confessing his undying love.”

Your jaw dropped. You waited for her to backtrack, to break out into laughter and inform you it was an insane joke. She did not.

“And that… that worked?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I thought he was crazy,” she chuckled behind her hand, eyes darting over your shoulder. “But we somehow ended up alone quite often. And as we were talking I just… I don’t know it felt different. It felt genuine.”

You nodded in understanding, “But aren’t you scared? What if someone finds out and…”

Kiyoko shrugged. “I’d rather love him like this than never love him at all.”

You scoured her face calculatively. She did mean that. Kiyoko would rather have a few moments with him than nothing at all. It was a beautiful sentiment… one you weren’t sure you had in you to agree. That rolling nausea crept back into your stomach.

The log teetered as a warmth plopped close beside you. Nishinoya’s brief body heat did more to warm you than the low fire had throughout your entire conversation with Kiyoko.

“Miss me?” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. The movement emphasized crinkled leaves and twigs trapped in his unruly hair, mussed by their roughhousing. You rolled your eyes, leaning over to clean him off.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed. “I’m surprised you didn’t injure yourself.”

“Oh? Worried about me?” He teased in a way made less effective by the pink dusting his cheeks.

“Obviously.” At his surprised look, you immediately backtracked. “How can you guard my best friend’s boyfriend if you��re injured?”

An amused smile crept onto his lips. “You’re right. How can I live up to my duties as the royal boyfriend protector if I break my arm?”

You narrowed your eyes at the mocking glint in his eyes and ever so slowly crushed the leaves in your hand, sprinkling the pieces into his disheveled hair without breaking eye contact. As realization struck him a triumphant smile spread across your face.

“What the hell?” He exclaimed, ruffling his hair in an attempt to rid it of the bits that clung tightly to his brown locks.

“I try to be thoughtful and that’s the thanks I get.”

Nishinoya grumbled to himself, sending you a half-assed glare before addressing the group. “Hey Tanaka, when should we–”

Tanaka was gone. And Kiyoko was gone. You looked around the clearing frantically but couldn’t find signs of either of them; as if they’d up and disappeared.

“Don’t worry, they’re probably just making out somewhere. I’d avoid that spot specifically,” Nishinoya said, gesturing at the far end of the forest line near the lake’s edge.

“They disappeared so quickly,” you said in amazement. You hadn’t even heard them leave.

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t really hang out with them anymore.”

You studied him calculatively as he stirred the dim fire using a long stick that had been lying beside your log. Your fingers itched to run through his hair, somehow remaining soft despite the unruliness from his earlier roughhousing. His lips rested in a mindless smile as if that was their default expression when relaxed and you fought to keep composure of your heart, fearing at this distance he could hear its rhythm pounding against your ribcage. Moments like these were when you desperately relied on others to kill the mood.

“Kiyoko told me how you all met.” You blurted thoughtlessly if only to distract yourself from your inner turmoil.

“Yeah? She didn’t ruin my incredibly cool image did she?”

“You’d need to have one for her to ruin first.”

“I miss that Yamaguchi guy. We should hang out with him more.” He pouted before facing you fully, “Well, what’d Kiyoko say?”

“She just mentioned stuff about the castle, you guarding Kageyama, Tanaka confessing his undying love. All the basics.”

Nishinoya nodded as if being told old and incredibly boring news. “...and?”

“And what?”

“That’s not why you brought it up, is it?” He quirked a brow. “What else did she say?”

You chewed your lower lip as embarrassment flooded you. His watchful gaze intensified the longer you took to spit it out. “She said that you flirted with her a bit. Before Tanaka confessed or whatever.”

Nishinoya did not even attempt to hold back the excitement glittering in his eyes as he scooched closer on the log. “Did that make you jealous?”

“No,” you denied, sliding away. “I just found it interesting.”

“Oh?” His smile was downright devilish and you wanted to punch it off his dumb handsome face. “Well, would it make you feel better if I said I never genuinely flirted with her?”

“A little,” you mumbled, avoiding his amused stare.

“What if I said I’ve never genuinely flirted with anyone?” He claimed, scouring your face. “Never even really liked anyone?”

You blinked opening your mouth to say that actually would not make you feel better, thank you very much, until he added, “Until recently.”

You stared, dumbfounded. “Depends.”

“On?”

“How much you like that Yamaguchi guy.”

He narrowed his eyes unamused by the joke, “Yeah, I spend all this time embarrassing myself around you because I have a crush on that rando.”

“Don’t call Yamaguchi a rando. He’s very important to–” You blinked, slowly taking in Nishinoya’s reddened cheeks. “Oh, we’re talking about me.”

“Obviously I’m talking about you,” he groaned, dropping his head into his hands. A dopey smile crossed your face watching him grumble to himself. Thoughtlessly you leaned forward, grabbing his hands to tug them back from his face, urging him to look up at you.

He glanced up wearily, pink dusting his cheeks and palms lightly coated in nervous sweat which you’d lock away to tease him about later. In the moment, you pulled them into your lap with an encouraging squeeze.

“Me too,” you whispered.

His eyebrows shot to his hairline, he gawked bewildered as if that had been the last thing he imagined you confessing. He struggled to form a sentence, his incoherent stuttering had you biting your lip to hold back laughter. Until he stilled, eyes flickering toward your mouth where they lingered much too long.

You noticed him slowly begin to lean and alarms blared, drowning out any ounce of desire as you blurted, “I can’t be like Kiyoko.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion, wading through a daze to string together, “I don’t want you to be like Kiyoko. I just said I’ve only liked you not–”

“No not–” Your face burned at his straightforward confession and you battled to keep your mind focused. “I mean, I can’t sneak around like them. I can’t hide in gardens or forests and pretend I don’t love someone. I can’t just be okay with for now when I want forever.” Your grip on his hands tightened in your distress. “You know what I mean?”

He looked in awe, gaze filled with an emotion you weren’t certain you could accurately yet name. His eyes scoured your face searching for something before a dopey smile spread across his face. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gently pressed his forehead against yours. His blonde tufts tickled your forehead as he gently said, “I’m not built to love someone in secret.”

A raging warmth spread throughout your chest. “But how will we–”

“I’ll figure it out.” He nuzzled his forehead further against yours. “I promise.”

“Is Kageyama going to threaten my entire family?”

The corner of his lip quirked, “It’s definitely a solid backup plan.”

You half-heartedly smacked his chest but he just squeezed your hands tighter. After a few moments of blissful silence, you adjusted to lean against him while he toyed with your fingers in his lap, just reveling in being together, Nishinoya whispered, “My name is Yuu.”

You lifted your head surprised. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to know that.”

“You’re not, but I’d like you to.” His gaze was genuine as he added. “I’d like you to know all of me. If that’s okay.”

A smile broke across your face. “I would singlehandedly fight all of the King’s enemies if it meant I got to know even you’re favorite color.”

He blinked. After an awkward amount of silence you thought perhaps you’d said something wrong, but he surprised you by tenderly cupping your cheeks. “That was the single most romantic thing anyone has ever and will ever say to me.”

“What do you–”

“I would very much like to kiss you now.”

Your entire body tensed. You hadn’t even meant to be romantic–you were just being honest. The determined set to his brow sent your heart into a frenzy, you squeezed your eyes shut as you nodded your head. You felt him shifting, tilting your head minutely before leaning closer. Just as his breath was against your lips a voice echoed in the fields around you, fluttering your eyes open you met with Nishinoya’s furious glare.

“Hey, Noya do you know when–Ohhh.”

Nishinoya gave Tanaka the deadliest glare you’d ever seen, you could almost see the flames radiating off him. It made you realize that maybe there was a reason Karasuno’s Guardian Deity had all those terrifying rumors Yamaguchi always paraded around. Perhaps there really was a reason everyone was so frightened of him.

Kinda hot.

“Dude, privacy!?” Nishinoya waved his hands at where Tanaka’s exited. “I know you’ve heard of it.”

“I’m so sorry, bro. I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

You glanced toward the lake as their arguing continued, gasping at the realization of how high the sun had risen. Nishinoya placed a hand on your shoulder in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m supposed to meet my mother for lunch. She’s going to kill me if I’m not–”

“No problem,” Nishinoya grabbed your hand to assist you in your dreaded trek back through the woods. You waved goodbye at Tanaka while Nishinoya sent him a rather crude gesture that had you covering a smile.

On your journey home Nishinoya recounted stories involving his older sisters that left you smiling the whole way. You truly couldn’t remember a time you’d felt happier than in that moment beside him. And you had no clue how the future would play out, but you trusted him–there was no one you’d rather go through this with.

[collecting-stories]

She’s Kinda Hot - Sarah Cameron

Request: omg i really wish i could write but, can you do one with sarah and kind of like kie reader(rich but hang out with the pogues)where they are enemies and are stuck together for a project and the reader keeps annoying sarah to make her mad and the reader tells sarah she’s hot when she’s mad and then they end up getting together or something. sorry this is really long this is also my first time requesting so i’m kinda new lo

A/N: I really freaking love Sarah Cameron. That is all. Enjoy the fic. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Sarah was pretty sure that there was one of those personal rain clouds hanging directly over her head as she sat in math class with you. Who even assigned school projects in math class? Wasn’t that kind of thing reserved for english or science? But no, her math teacher...your math teacher...decided that a project to highlight Women in Math was a brilliant idea for Women’s History Month and, in an even greater stroke of genius, she stuck Sarah and you together as partners. It was all your fault really, that was all Sarah kept thinking as she stared across the classroom at the side of your head. That if you hadn’t walked into class late, in the middle of assignments, Sarah would’ve ended up with the next person alphabetically behind Cameron. Instead, she was stuck with you. 

“Why don’t we just split the assignment into parts and then put it together at the end?” Sarah suggested, after the bell rang and she managed to chase you down the hall of the kook academy to your locker.  

“Why not just work together?” You replied, shrugging a shoulder as if it shouldn’t be the worst thing that could ever happen to Sarah to be paired together for the project.

“I’d rather not.”

“Cause you broke up with me-”  

Sarah hushed you immediately, covering your mouth with her hand and looking back and forth down the crowded hallway. “You know what happened!”  

You pushed Sarah’s hand away and rolled your eyes, “well too bad princess, I need this grade so you’re gonna have to deal with seeing me.” You said, “everyday. After school.”  

“That’s bullshit,” Sarah snapped, following after you when you shut your locker and started down the hallway to your next class, “you do not need that fucking grade! You’re at like, the top of the class.”  

“Are you the teacher?” you asked, looking back at her. “Don’t worry Sarah, I promise I’ll stay six feet away and I won’t try to tempt you. Wouldn’t want anyone to find out you’re into girls.” You said, whispering the last part so only she could hear it.  

Sarah stopped in her tracks, watching you walk the rest of the way to your class. She wanted to scream after you, that wasn’t the reason. That wasn’t why she’d totally annexed you from her life. It wasn’t just that she knew this project was going to get her in deep shit, it was that she was one hundred percent positive that she would not be able to work with you without letting her feelings get the better of her.  

It wasn’t like the kook academy was a big place, there wasn’t exactly room to avoid you completely, but Sarah had done a pretty decent job so far. Even when the two of you crossed paths in class, and it happened more than Sarah would’ve preferred, she managed to keep herself away from you. At least until now, she was stuck with you as her partner for some ridiculous math project. She’d been banking on you wanting as little to do with her as she tried to have with you but instead you seemed totally fine. Unbothered by everything that went down between the two of you.  

She thought about asking Kiara what she would do but Sarah could already hear her best friend telling her that she wasn’t going to take sides. Kiara was friends with both of you and the most advice she would ever offer was “I don’t get what happened between you two anyway”.  

No, asking Kiara wouldn’t work. Sarah would have to resign herself to this project. She could this. It was just a three-week project. She could survive three weeks with you.  

“Hey, if I get lunch, what’d’ya want?” You asked, hanging your head off of Sarah’s bed and holding your phone out so you could tap through your doordash app.  

Sarah wanted to scream, it was still half-way through the first week and you had been to her house three times in as many days, spending your after-school hours driving her crazy. She was pretty sure that you were doing this on purpose.  

“It’s almost 5:30,” Sarah replied, not looking up from her laptop, “I think lunch is over.”

“Dinner then.” You said.  

“No. I don’t want dinner.” She snapped, “and I don’t want lunch or whatever else...I just want to finish this project.”

“We’ve got like, two weeks left Sarah,” you pointed out, rolling over onto your stomach and looking at her across the room, “just chill out.”  

You knew you were pushing Sarah’s buttons but you couldn’t help it. When things between the two of you had gone bad, when she’d told you that it was over and, worse than that, it was a mistake, you had been heartbroken. There wasn’t a better word for it. You hated how upset you’d been after Sarah broke it off with you but when things settled, you couldn’t deny that there was still something there. Little looks, fleeting in the hallway, moments you caught her staring and you knew she caught you too. It felt like boiling tension, the same way it had before, when you’d gotten together.  

“Chill out?” She huffed, “you’ve been at my house all week driving me fucking nuts and now you tell me to ‘chill out’. No, you need to help me with this fucking project!”  

You sat up on the bed, unable to contain the smile as you looked over at Sarah, “god, I totally forgot how insanely hot you are when you’re pissed off.”  

Sarah tossed her pencil across the room at you, “will you knock it off. You always pull this shit with me.”

“What shit?” You almost laughed, “you’re the one who told me that dating was an ‘accident’ and you were ‘confused about your feelings’. What am I doing, exactly, to pull shit with you? If anything, Sarah, you leading me on was pretty much exactly that.”  

“I wasn’t leading you on.” She groaned, flicking her hair over her shoulder the way she always did when she was pissed with something someone said to her. “What was I supposed to do anyway?” She said, voice dropping lower so no one would hear her. You might’ve been in her closed bedroom but if there was one thing you’d learned about Tanny Hill it was that someone was always listening. “Do you know what my family would do if they found out?”

“Found out that you were dating...basically a pogue? Or dating a girl?” You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at her in question. You knew what the answer was. Sarah had been trying to live up to every expectation that Ward set for her from the moment she was born. She was always trying to make up for Rafe or Wheezie doing something to upset him by making sure she never did. And while other people dating whoever they wanted was totally fine with him, his favorite daughter, his pride and joy, dating a girl...maybe if it’d been Wheezie a few years down the line. But not Sarah, who was supposed to date a rich kook and go to UNC and marry the same rich kook and they could have a couple kids and buy a big house near his. He’d been planning it all out for her since before she was born and you had thrown a wrench in that plan.  

“It’s a delicate subject.”

“No,” you laughed and shook your head, “your dad’s a total homophobe. What’s he got against two super-hot girls dating each other?”

“When one of them is his daughter, I don’t think it’s at the top of his approved list.” She replied. “We should be working on this project anyway...I want a good grade and so do you.”

“Sarah-”

“No. Cause you’ll say something that you know I wanna hear and then you’ll do the stupid slow walk over to my chair and put your hands on the arm rests and I’ll be totally defenseless and then I’ll do something I totally regret...like kissing you.” Sarah said, “or letting you kiss me.”

“You’d totally regret it if we kissed?” You asked. “Positive?”

“Yes I’m positive.”

“We could test it out? Just to make sure?”

“No.”  

You shrugged, grabbing your math text off the bed and setting it on your lap again, “okay, I guess we should get back to work then.”

“What?” Sarah almost sounded shocked and really she shouldn’t have been. She should’ve known when the teacher put the two of you together for the project that this was exactly where she would end up at some point within the three weeks. Though really, she’d held out a lot longer than she ever thought she would be able to. “That’s it? You’re just going back to the project?”

“You said that’s what you wanted to do.”

She groaned and tugged at the roots of her hair for a second before looking at you, “you are the most frustrating, annoying, dense person in the entire world and I cannot believe that we-”

While she reamed you out, you had put your book aside and gotten up, going over to her and doing exactly what she said you would. You put your hands on the armrests of her desk chair and you leaned in and kissed her mid-sentence. “Is that what I was supposed to do?” You asked, pulling away just enough to see her face.  

Sarah wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you toward her and forcing you to stabilize yourself with a knee on the side of her leg, practically sitting on her lap. “Something like that.” She finally said, “though I would’ve appreciated a little warning.”

“Oh, sorry, you seemed stressed,” you replied, feigning innocence, “I just wanted to help you relax.”

“Is stressed the word?” She joked, tension melting as she brushed her nose against yours. She leaned forward so your foreheads were touching, her eyelashes just ghosting a touch on your cheeks when she closed her eyes for a split second.  

“Extremely hot? Sexy...a major turn on.” You joked, kissing her again. “God, imagine if you’d been paired with like...Topper for this? You’d be kissing him right now.”

“Stop trying to ruin the moment and kiss me.” Sarah laughed.

[sirisuorionblack]

An unsafe home

Sirius Black x Slytherin!Reader

Requested -  A Sirius X reader story where the reader is a Muggle born and a Slytherin. So when the tension of the war gets heavy in the castle she gets attacked by some fellow housemates. Maybe regulus is involved? I don't know. A protective and scared Sirius who just realises how violent things are starting to get even at a "safe place" as Hogwarts.

Warnings - Injuries. 

A/N So I went a little overboard here and perhaps it may be rushed in the end. And Regulus has got quite a major role in here. Anyways, hope you enjoy @too-many-unhealthy-obsessions 

“Another one,” Remus muttered, grimly as his eyes scanned rapidly over the newspaper, ignoring the minimal amount of food he had on his plate.

Sirius sighed, “Who?”

“A muggle-born,” James read over Remus’ shoulder, discreetly placing two more toasts on his place, “In a muggle town. It's not the worst case, she’s been there to meet her parents, and...all of them,”

Sirius winced, “Enough, Remus,” he gently pried the newspaper off his best friend’s fingers.

“It's growing rapidly,” James whispered, “Dunno what's gonna happen next,”

Peter, who sat next to Sirius, shivered. Noticing that Sirius looked at James, subtly shaking his head, asking him to drop the topic.

“Sirius!” A voice called him, happily. He knew the voice way too well for he has heard them rant for hours in the end and he had listened without a hint of annoyance.

Sirius whipped around to look at you, walking towards him with a wide grin, your green robes contrasting amidst the red and yellow on either side. You were different, you were unique and above all you were his. Sirius loved you, loved you more than anything in this world, after all, he had thousands of reasons why.

“Hello,” You greeted him with a big smile, almost startling him to think of how lucky he is.

Sirius pulled you into his arms, kissing you softly, as though you would break if a speck of dust fell on you, but both you and Sirius knew that wasn't true but completely opposite. Pulling away, he placed his forehead to yours.  

“You guys are so cute,” Lily cooed.

Sirius laughed as you buried your head into his shoulder, “I know, Evans,”

“But not as cute as us though,” James said, grinning at Lily, who shook her head with a subtle smile on her face.

“I still don't know how I ended up with you, Potter,” she said, kissing his cheek.

You glanced at Sirius and then at the two of them and back at him, “I know what you are thinking, darling,” He said, and then raised his voice, “You need to stand your point, Evans,”

“Oh, shut it, Black,” she rolled her eyes and then laughed.

“Alright, then, ladies and gentlemen,” You pulled away from Sirius and held the strap of your bag tightly over your shoulder, “Unlike you seventh years, we have some real studies to do,”

“Well, the sixteen year olds nowadays are real arses, arent they?” Remu commented, smirking at you.

You scoffed, “Trust me, Lupin, you haven't been with a thirteen year old for very long,”

Regulus joined you as you walked to your Potions class, “How are you?”

Remus chuckled, “She’s not wrong though,” he said to James.

“What the-?” you chuckled at the sudden choice of question.

“Did you complete the potions assignment Slughorn gave?” Regulus asked, skimming through the parchments in his hand.

“Did you?” you asked. Regulus gritted his teeth and shook his head.

You sighed having a vague idea of what might have taken his time. Smiling, you linked your arm with him, “Slughorn loves you, Reg, so, no worries,”

“Woah, look at that, will you?” a group of students blocked your path, the silver and green ties flashing as the malicious smirk on their faces made the two colours look dirty.

“What's wrong with you Black boys, one hanging out with the same mudblood his brother shags,” A girl in the front said, twisting a piece of hair between her fingers, a nasty smirk on her artificial pink lips.

Before you could react, Regulus had his wand out. “Regulus, no,” You warned, tugging his arm, “Let's leave,”

“Aw, to where?” The girl asked, “To that traitorous disappointing scumbag of a lover you have?”

She struck the nerve and she knew it for she let out a maniacal laughter, pulling out her wand from her robes.

“Stupefy!” “Petrificus totalus!” The two of you yelled simultaneously.

Slytherins behind the girl laughed and giggled watching curses fly off from two ends of two contrasting wands and motives.

A beam of red light flew from yours and the girl - Carie, you heard after one of the Slytherins cheered her - ducked it, hitting the buff boy behind her.

His nostrils flared as he held out his own wand, hurling curses towards you just as Carie did. Regulus raised his wand too, trying to fend them off but another Slytherin kid engaged him in a duel of his own.

You were getting exhausted, struggling to keep up with the hexes thrown towards you. Suddenly, there was a different burst of green light from the tip of someone’s wand, hurling right at you.

The next few minutes were spent in a blur - the green beam hit you right in the chest. You gasped, feeling as though the air was knocked out of your lungs as your head spun rapidly. Struggling with proper balance, you felt your body curve into a graceful arc and sensed the shirt of your school uniform get wet. The vicious dancing black spots took over.

On the opposite end of the castle, Sirius sat in his transfiguration class, doodling on the piece of parchment before him and often glancing over Remus’ shoulder at what he is writing.

Suddenly, a violent shiver ran down his body, a feeling of dread settling on his chest.

“What's wrong?” Remus asked, irritatedly, finally looking up from his parchment.

“I dunno,” Sirius mumbled, taking a deep breath and loosening his tie. Remus glanced at him, concerned one last time before returning to his notes.

Sirius glanced around the room for his friends, James was seated before him with Lily, raking a hand through his messy hair and staring at her while she listened intently to Professor McGonagall, Peter was to Sirius’ left, twisting the quill in his hand.

Sirius rubbed his neck, the restlessness rising within his figure as he shuffled in his seat.

The moment the bell rang, Sirius dashed out of the room, not even caring to take his bag as he rushed down the corridor in search of his brother and you.

He found Regulus first. Unfortunately, his little brother stood right before the hospital wing that did nothing to stop the dread rising in Sirius.

“Reggie,” Sirius gasped, “I mean, uhm, Regulus, have-are you alright?!” He spotted the red blotch on the front of his shirt.

“Yeah,” Regulus breathed.

“Then what's this!?” Sirius asked, panic raising to an unwanted amount.

Regulus took a deep breath and shuddered. He looked around the corridor as if expecting someone to be there, once he realised it was after all deserted, he threw himself into his elder brother’s arms, holding Sirius tightly.

Sirius drew a sharp breath as he uncertainly wrapped his arms around Regulus. He could feel his brother shaking, “Reggie, hey, it's OK, I am here,”

“She-they-(Y/N)-” Regulus stuttered into Sirius’ shoulder.

“What's wrong with her?” Sirius asked hurriedly, pulling away from Regulus, who took a shuddering breath and gulped. He raised his hand, pointing towards the hospital wing.

Sirius looked at the door and then back at little brother, the grip on his arm tightened, “Come with me?”

Regulus’ filled with tears as he slowly shook his head, pushing his brother away he ran.

“Reg-” Sirius watched as his brother disappeared into the corner and clenched his shirt tightly, looking down at it, he realised the red liquid - which resembled so much like blood - was now on his white shirt too.

Wiping his tears, Sirius warily walked to push the door of the infirmary open, afraid of what waited inside for him.

The smell of blood and potions filled his nostrils making him flinch. Sirius looked at the bed around except one crowded with nurses, he hoped his (Y/N) wouldn't be there, he hoped.

“Mr Bl- Sirius?” Madam Pomfrey looked at Sirius, her eyes widened. She rushed to him, “What are you doing here?”

“(Y/N),” Sirius said simply, looking behind her shoulder.

“Sirius,” she placed her hand on his arm, “She is not here,”

“Oh? But Regulus said-” he pointed behind him.

A young nurse rushed towards Madam Pomfrey and whispered to her. She sighed in relief and nodded, “Sirius, she is alright,”

“So she is here?” Sirius asked, hopelessly looking around, his eyes were drawn to the crowded bed however he distracted himself.

“Sirius,” Madam Pomfrey moved to stand before him, her hands on his arms, squeezing with motherly affection. She sighed and looked as though she was contemplating something, “She is here. I will let you see her only if you assure me that you would stay calm, am I clear?”

Sirius nodded rapidly and desperately. Madam Pomfrey took a deep breath and guided him to the farthest bed - the crowded one. He felt the air knocked out of his lungs as he realised that, after all, his hope was squashed into a pulp.

You laid on the bed wrapped in a new robe and the infirmary white sheet pulled up to your chest, nurses by you, checking your pulse and pouring measure potions into goblets. Sirius felt his world crumble as he saw your discarded white blouse, it was drenched with blood, the white colour almost invisible; if he hadn’t known better he would have thought you were simply asleep. 

Sirius grabbed whatever was next to him, providing support to his shaking figure. His breath came out in struggled pants. The red stain on his shirt is the love of his life’s blood.

Madam Pomfrey watched as the boy shivered and his knees wobbled as though he would collapse any second. She watched as he blankly stared at the ground, his mind, perhaps, occupied beyond necessary that allowed tears to well in his eyes but not drop.

Sirius drew a deep breath as he stumbled towards you, alerting the nurse who glanced behind him at Madam Pomfrey who shook her head.

He crouched before you, one hand cupping your cheek the other resting on top of your hands that laid on your stomach. With Sirius’ wobbling lip he leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“What happened?” He asked to no one in particular, his eyes still scanning your face.

“We don't know,” Madam Pomfrey answered, honestly, “Regulus had barged in with her, she was unconscious,” and she hurriedly added, “She is alright now,”

“When will she wake up?” he asked.

“Within an hour or so,” Madam Pomfrey muttered.

So, Sirius waited, often heaving deep breaths to calm himself. This was supposed to be his home, where he could be safe and protected, where his loved ones could be safe yet here you were.

Every since “Voldemort” was rising, ever since he ran away from Grimmauld Place, ever since the tension between him and his little brother rose, Sirius just wanted to take you away, away to a place where he knew you would be safe and secure, not a thing can harm you. Just you and him, like a family that he always wanted - protected, protective, safe and loved beyond measure. 

“Sirius,” You mumbled, squeezing his hand.

“Puppy,” Sirius whipped his head to look at you, “You alright? What happened?”

Gulping, you pulled Sirius closer, resting your forehead against his. Sirius moved so that he was sat on the edge of the bed, leaning towards you.

“I love you,” You gently whispered. Finally, the tears that were collected in Sirius’ eyes broke free and rolled down his cheeks rapidly.

Before you could react, Sirius smashed his lips to yours in a wet kiss. It was salty from the tears that still leaked from his eyes.

You pulled away first, hurriedly wiping away his tears although it was of no use, “Sirius-”

“I love you,” he took a ragged deep breath, “So much,”

“I love you too, Sirius,” you leaned to kiss his forehead. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you chuckled wetly, “It's OK, I am alright. Nothing is wrong. I am alright, Sirius, look at me”

“You couldn't have been,” a dry sob racked his body, drawing a gasp to tumble from your lips. You pulled him even closer, holding his hands that cupped your cheeks tightly and allowing him to rest his head on the crook of your neck.

“Please, please, it's OK,” you tried to console him.

Sirius pulled away and wiped his tears as you watched him intently. You tried to sit up and to help you, a young nurse was immediately at your side and that's when you realised there were people watching the interaction.

The nurses understanding the situation shuffled away from your bed to others’.

“What happened?” Sirius asked, shifting closer to you after nodding slightly as though asking for permission.

“Just-it was nothing, Sirius,” you mumbled, lying through your teeth and you knew Sirius found out.

“What happened, darling? Please, please, tell me,” Sirius said on the verge of begging.

You looked around using the time to contemplate your options - You could either tell him and refrain him from marching to the Slytherin common room (which would be definitely hard) or you could not tell him which is absolutely not possible.

You took a deep breath, taking Sirius’ hand in yours, holding it tightly, “I just -I-the Slytherins,” you sighed, “A duel, Sirius, and I missed it,”

“A duel!?” Sirius yelled, his forehead scrunched in confusion, “Who!?”

You were silent making Sirius repeat his question this time even insisting that before, “Carie, Carie Travers,”

The rage that painted on Sirius’ face was unlike anything you've seen before. His grey orbs were ablaze with fire and hatred as his body shook.

“Sirius,” you said, worriedly. He gritted his teeth, nose flaring as he stared at the goblet on the bedside table.

He let out a deep breath, composing himself and he nodded, “Travers, isn't it?”

“Sirius…”

“No, no, don't worry, I won't do anything,” he said, frightening calm.

“Sirius, please,” You said but he ignored it.

“How? How did the duel start?” He asked, looking into your eyes, intently.

“Not now, Sirius, please,” you pleaded, not wanting to deal with it now.

Sirius sighed and leaned in to kiss your forehead, “I'm sorry,”

“It's OK,” you uncomfortably wrapped your arms around his torso and Sirius held you for a few minutes before shifting so that he leaned against the headboard and you protectively within his arms.

It wouldn't be OK. Perhaps, worse but not alright, Sirius knew that, of course, he did but he vowed to himself that he would protect you at any cost even if that means he would have to give his life, “I love you, mon amour,”

[ac3id]

Plaything | 18+ | part i

plaything 1/ ?? | part 0

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 1: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation, masturbation, filming w/o consent, boot grinding, a little bit of bakusquad + reader....this is filthy :D 

summary: by luck you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt and powerful brats who just seem to hate you and among them, a certain red eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 1: you bump into bakugou by accident, dropping your vanilla ice cream all over him, you try to apologize and run away but wants more...oh wait why are his friends standing there recording everything too? 

wordcount. 4k+

a/n: sooooo, it’s finally out! huge thanks to @sawamooora for proof reading this! helped me out a lot <3 sorry for making u sit through that mess x[

 this scene was inspired by that one episode of boys over flowers where the mc’s best friend drops ice cream on the main guy’s shoe and he asks the mc to lick it off...obviously that didn’t happen in the show but it really got me thinking...... 

alsO the netflix show elite,,, i just saw it and knew,,,,

taglist: @mocha-focha​, @erenyeagersbasement​ , @haribo-pop, @sunshine-fangs​, @kuremis​, @amazing-fandoms​,

dm/ inbox/ comment to be added/ removed. 

—navigation

It was a great opportunity. Never in your life would you have thought you’d manage to land a scholarship at the prestigious U.A Private Academy. 

The school was a dream, the best in your city, and only affordable for the rich. Graduating from such a school could have helped you with life in so many different ways. Not only would it open doors you could never touch before, but it would help you to form connections which would make your life undoubtedly easier.

Graduating from U.A. was a blessing, but obviously, it did not come easy. It was rather unfortunate. After your previous school building had collapsed, due to some accident, the board announced its year-long closure.

At the time, you were beyond lost and understandably frustrated - it was your last year before college and you simply couldn't risk waiting the year out. The whole situation was nerve-wracking, looking for decent schools which would allow you in. 

Honestly, you had no idea what you would’ve done if U.A. hadn’t called you that night. 

It was the last day of the summer holidays, a week after your school building had collapsed. Luckily, no one was hurt - but the damage on the campus was severe. 

You had been talking to your friends when your mother rushed into your room with exciting news. Apparently, the chairman of U.A was feeling generous. He had decided to offer four excellent students from your school a scholarship to U.A. 

You were overjoyed being one of the students along with your two other friends; Shinso Hitoshi and Izuku Midoriya. 

At first, the thought was a little scary - going into a completely different world than you were accustomed to. The kids there would be much different than you, you didn't want to be the   laughing stock, you didn’t want to be their silly little entertainment... The thought made you nervous, but when your best friend, Izuku, called you the next night explaining how he also won the scholarship; followed by Shinso, you were relieved. 

Yes, you were stepping into a whole different world but you at least had your two friends with you. 

And that brought you to the first day of school. 

You stood outside the huge gates of the even enormous academy all alone shaking in your little, expensive skirt they forced you to wear as the uniform waiting for your friends. You promised the two boys you’d wait for them, and besides, you weren’t planning on entering the building all alone. 

Your friends, Shinso and Midoriya, lived close to each other. They were supposed to meet you at the gates of the school that morning, but they were running late. Your anxiety grew the longer you stayed there, with students filling the place- arriving in their fancy cars with their expensive bags and accessories. It easily made you feel out of place.

“Hey,” you heard someone before someone tapped on your shoulder. You quickly turned around to greet the voice. Staring back at you was Uraraka Ochaco.

You remembered she was in your school too, Midoriya has a huge crush on her. 

“Yes, Uraraka? Right?” You weren’t close to her, nothing but mere acquaintances. But seeing her face - right here, right now - it made your day. 

Uraraka was dressed in the same uniform as you, there was no doubt that she was one of the four kids who won the scholarship. Both of you talked while you implored her to wait for Midoriya and Shinso. You didn’t fail to notice the way her cheeks turned pink when you mentioned Midoriya. The two of them were so obvious. 

Your friends arrived, they were late, but they came. 

Apparently, there was an accident that forced them to stay back a little longer, but they managed to make it before the first bell. 

“I actually have an old friend who goes there now,” Midoriya confesses out of the blue as the four of you enter the gates. You look at him in awe. 

During the three years in high school that both of you had spent together, he had never mentioned any friend of his going to the U.A. academy ever. 

“Why did you never tell us?” Uraraka asks. 

“well, we’re not on good terms. He used to live in the same neighborhood before his parent’s business took off. He left after middle school.” Midoriya says, a slight frown forming on his face.

“Who is he?” Shinso asks. 

Midoriya pauses briefly before explaining his entire history with a temperamental and rude blonde. Bakugou Katsuki, he calls him. His childhood friend. But from what you managed to gather, Bakugou was anything but a friend to Midoriya. 

Bakugo was once just a simple boy, living a simple life, destined to do great things - but once his parent’s clothing line ‘Dynamite’ blew up and became mainstream, he started drowning in wealth. Bakugo moved out of his old neighborhood at the starting of high school before enrolling in U.A., just like all his rich friends.

“Maybe you should say hi,” Uraraka suggests. Midoriya’s expressions turned sheepish.

“About that…” he started. “I called him yesterday, got his number from mom, and-” he stopped. 

“What did he say?” Shinso asked.

“He told me to get lost and die,” Midoriya said with a slight frown on his face, looking down. 

That was your first impression of Katsuki Bakugou. For a man you had not even met, you sure loathed him. 

School went smoothly for a week, everything was going great. The four of you kept your profile low, didn’t talk until spoken to, kept your distance, and everything was okay. 

People often starred and whispered amongst each other when they saw you in the hallways, but that was about it. Everyone seemed to be decent but… there’s always a but. 

Everything took a turn for the worse when you managed to piss off the wrong person, Bakugo Katsuki himself. 

It was an honest mistake, not even that big of a deal - especially for his standards Yet, for some reason, Bakugo wanted to get under your skin. 

It happened after your lunch break, you were on your way back to your classroom with an ice-cream cone fasted tightly in your hands. You mindlessly dashed through the hallways, trying your best to get back to class as fast as possible - you don’t want to be late. It’d earn you a bad reputation. You don’t need that- you don't want anything which could jeopardize your scholarship. 

You walked straight and took a turn. Just by fate, you bumped into a stiff, hard chest making you wobble on your feet and sending your ice cream from your hand flying straight to the ground.

“Shit,” you cursed, looking down seeing what you had to work with. 

The ice-cream cone splattered on the floor, the white creamy liquid flushed all over the floor along with staining an expensive-looking, black leather boot. A snarl comes from above you along with a group of chuckles. More expensive shoes come into your line of view as you realize you’re not alone. 

You slowly bring your gaze up, ogling at who you just pissed off. 

Staring back at you is a furious blonde, glaring at you with such intensity that it makes your stomach drop. It’s the infamous Bakugou Katsuki, you don’t want to deal with him. 

-

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you don’t give him a chance to complain as you take your flight. Quickly, you try running away but a large hand grabs your forearm, stopping you dead in your tracks. 

You look to the side, deep red eyes stare right back at you. 

“Where are you running off to? Don’t you think you owe my friend here a proper apology?” Kirishima says, his grip on your arm growing tighter. He towers over you, his huge body trapping you with intimidation.

Going to U.A for over a week there’s a thing or two that you’ve learned about the rich, snobby brats who own the school. Not everyone is bad, a few of them are actually but the rest are just bad. 

Bakugou was the worst. From how Midoriya described him, you knew for a fact he’d be a horrible person. But hell, he managed to prove himself even worse. 

He was crude, mean, downright arrogant, and ignorant. Always screaming unasked opinions on top of his lungs, and gets mad whenever someone disagrees. He acts like the world revolves around him.

 Bakugo had a bunch of friends who he called his “followers” and they weren’t any better.

They just watched while Bakugou ruined everything, they were there to support him. 

Kirishima Eijirou the redhead, he was captain of the football team. He was a jock, brawns over brains kind of person. Girls cooed over him and his overly attractive, hot body. It looked as if he was sculpted by God himself. 

Next was Kaminari Denki. He was in the school band, dating the lead singer. And yet, he managed to find time to flirt with other girls. He was the goofball of the group, dumb and stupid But he always knew what he was doing. Even though it was barely noticeable, you could always see a devious glint in those amber eyes of his. 

Sero Hanta was famous for a lot of reasons. Most notably for having brought illegal drugs on the campus and skipping classes to go down to his junkie hangout spot to smoke weed. The man had no shame. Sometimes, he’d walk into the classrooms high as fuck. The teachers couldn’t do anything even if they tried, his parents practically owned the school; he owned the school. There was no going against the tall, lanky man who looked like he couldn’t even smash a bug. He held the most power and his friends sure knew how to abuse it. 

Last but not least was Mina Ashido. The one and only girl member of the self-proclaimed ‘bakusquad’. Sometimes, Jirou Kyouka, the lead singer of the school, would hang out with the boys and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t a permanent member. Mina was. 

In your opinion, Mina was a nightmare dressed like a daydream. With her short, pink hair and bright smile, she seemed like an angel. But she was the devil. Worse than even Bakugou, perhaps. 

She knew everything about everyone, she had leverage galore: screenshots ready to leak, videos ready to ruin lives. She had them all, and frankly- she scared you the most. 

Kirishima pushed you back, and Bakugo caught you by your shoulders. 

“That was fucking rude,” he growled, biting his fingers into your shoulder blades tight and hard making you squeal. “Are you fucking blind or something? Fucking extra.” 

“I said I’m sorry, let me go will you?” Even in such a terrifying situation, you try to remain calm.

“What do you think, Sero?” Kaminari began. Your heart sank, including Sero into anything was never a good sign. 

“She ruined Bakugou’s new shoes,” he continued. Bakugou’s hold on you tightened and you winced, turning back to him and returning his glare. 

“Okay, what do you want?” you give in, finally. A mischievous spark lights up in his crimson eyes as flashes a cocky smirk to his friends before turning back to you with a frown. He pushes you towards Mina and she catches you with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Those were expensive, right?” she looks at you and then back at Bakugou. He grunts, nodding. 

“Fuck yes, I’m pissed as hell. Some fucking extra managed to ruin it.” 

You look back down to steal a glance at his heavy, leather boot. The small, white stain melted away. 

“What will you do to make up for it?” Mina whispers your name and you cringe. They were teasing you. For their fun, they were making fun of you. 

“What can I do?” you say, sarcastically. Prying yourself away from her hold. The crowd goes dead silent before speaking. Sero is the first one to talk. 

“Lick it off.”

There’s a pause, no one speaks. Your stomach drops and your face pales at the look the five of them are giving you- it’s serious. Dead serious. 

Kaminari bursts out laughing followed by Sero and the others. The four of them get a great laugh but Bakugou stares at you head-on with his grave expressions burning through your soul. 

“Whatcha looking at? Do it,” he commands. 

The laughing dies down and Kaminari speaks, “are you serious? You want her to lick your shoe,” he can’t control his laughter, a chuckle breaks with every word. 

“Yes, I’m fucking serious. Besides, Sero recommended it,” he smirks. “Do you really want to say no to him? I don’t know so much about this but-“ he leans down close to your face, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “it might complicate your scholarship.” 

There’s a twisted rhythm in his voice. He’s enjoying tormenting you. You still want to believe that they’re just messing around. That they’ll have their laughs and let you go, but the way Sero stares at you says otherwise. 

“You don’t wanna do it?” Bakugou asks. 

“Of course she doesn’t! That’s gross, oh my god.” Mina exclaims, earning a chuckle from the rest of the boys. 

“Hey, let’s hear it from Sero himself.” Kirishima pats Sero’s back, pushing him forward. The five of them have circled around you, coiling you inside their venomous nest with you in the center. You turn to Sero with pleading eyes, looking up at his huge form, begging. 

He smirks looking down at you, you look so tiny beneath bim. He wants to mess with you, even more, you look like a nice toy to him. He wants to play with it until he can’t. 

“I guess, I did say that-” your blood runs cold, heartbeat picking up in nervousness. “-but you don’t need to do it.” He finishes. Your face lights up while the others groan in disappointment. Bakugou looks livid. 

“Just know that, you’re the one who dropped the ice cream on Bakugou’s shoe and now you’re not even helping him out. That’s not very noble, is it? I don’t know if I even by mistake slipped that info back home- my parents might reconsider whether you truly deserve to be here or not. They don’t really like disrespectful kids who comprise the school’s name.” 

Sero ends his speech with a wide, ear-to-ear grin, followed by a pat to your head. 

“The choice is yours.”  

You pause for a moment and think. Where they were really going to make you do it, where they were really going to humiliate you like this. They were. But were you willing to do it? 

From Sero’s threat, you could tell he was serious, this was legit. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time the school expelled someone who had beef with Sero, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. They don’t care about anyone but their loving son. They wouldn’t even think once before expelling you.

“What’s your answer, princess?” Kirishima teases.

 Mina and Kaminari once again break into fits of laughter.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have a choice here, kneel you extra.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Bakugou gestures you to kneel. You stop for a second, breathing unevenly- thinking. After a long, thoughtful sigh, you answer. 

“No, I am not going to do it.” Your voice is meek yet clear. Even though you’re trembling under the heavy gazes of five snakes, you choose to stand your ground. 

Bakugou glaring at you while the others boo. 

“Aw, c’mon you don’t mean that.” 

“Don’t be a little brat.” 

Bakugou stays silent while the others continue to throw insults at you -  calling you names and trying to make you regret your decision. You look straight forward into Bakugou’s cold, red eyes, searching for his next move. Your heart beats even harder in your chest with increased anxiety. After watching your torment for more than a few minutes, Bakugo decides he’s had enough of this game.

“Hey, shitty hair,” Bakugo starts. “Punch me.” 

“What?” Kirishima asks, vividly shaken. “Why do you want me to hit you, Bakubro?” 

“Punch me real hard, give me a black eye.” The confusion grows greater on everyone’s faces. You stare at him in awe, wondering what angle was trying to play. 

Kirishima raises his hands in defense. “Woah, dude slow down there. I’m not just going to punch you.” 

Bakugou clicks the roof of his tongue, letting out a sound of irritation. “You all are just dumb,” he starts.

“Imagine if this punny, little,” he leans down closer to you till his lips touch your ears and whispers your name with a crude chuckle. “Were to drop all her food over me, not apologize, punch and me then run away, that’d bring her into a whole world of trouble. Wouldn’t it?” 

Bakugo’s words are calculated and sly, he knows exactly what he’s getting at when he starts. His voice fills you up with dread as he makes his accusations public.

“She would be expelled on spot and Kacchan could also raise charges,” Kaminari adds. 

Your eyes widen in fear. 

“Yeah, I’ll fucking do that.” Mina giggles. “That would succck,” she cheers. Your lower lip quivers as you stare at them in disbelief, your eyes open wide only to be covered with fear. 

“Hey, c’mon, why are you doing this to me?” You feel them inch closer to you, their warmth leeching onto you the longer you stay surrounded by them. 

“Because you have no fucking manners.” Bakugou snarls. 

“Kiri, punch him. What are you waiting for? If you don’t wanna do it I will!” Kaminari cries, growing impatient. 

Kirishima laughs before he charges Bakugou. Your heart hammers in your chest. 

You think about your family, your future, and how disappointed everyone would be with you. Your dreams and aspirations, all were rooted in this school. 

It was honestly sad, pathetic even. Your entire future was just a joke to these spoiled kids. These kids who could control you, and everyone else,  with just a flick of their fingers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the price to pay for a piece of the beautiful cake known as U.A... You resign yourself to your fate.

A piece of your mind. 

“N-no, don’t do that. I-I’ll do it,” you murmured, your voice timid and weak. The five paused looking at each other with an ominous glint in their eyes. Bakugou was the first to speak. 

“Well, then fucking get on with it. On your knees.” Obediently like a trained puppy, you got down onto your knees, not letting your eyes fall from Bakugou’s face. His red, fierce eyes barked at you with an unknown look, keeping you lost. 

“Holy shit, she’s actually doing this,” Mina squealed watching you lean forward, bringing your face next to Bakugou’s expensive boots.

“Kaminari, record this.” Sero taps at the energetic blonde, forcing him to take his phone out and hit ‘record’. As you lean further to the ground, your short skirt rides up behind you, giving the audience a clear view of your round ass and pastel panties. The sight brings a smile to Bakugou’s face as he scoffs. 

“Cute panties,” he remarks. 

You jerk, trying desperately to sit back, but Bakugo stops you. Smashing his other foot on top of your shoulder, he holds you there facing the ground.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” he growls.

You squirm, almost falling under his weight and as much you hate to admit it, a tingle of excitement runs down your spine. This was turning you on.

 A row of whistles flood in, the boys start teasing you and praising Bakugou. 

“Lick it off,”  he commands. 

You look down at his leather boot, the ice cream almost melted. There’s still a bright white spot of the sweet now liquid splayed out. Even though it’s not a lot, it still makes you cringe. You peek your shy, little tongue out timidly, forcing yourself to do the heinous deed. 

Bakugou watches you hesitate and pushes on your shoulder harder making you reach towards him. 

You give in after a final attempt, diving into his wishes. Your wet tongue touches the rough, cold leather. You cringe after a single touch, closing your eyes and scrunching your nose at the salty taste. “Clean it all off,” he commands.

You dive back in, this time letting your tongue glide across a larger portion. The humiliation burns through your body. It makes you uncomfortably hot, mostly from anger and but a little bit of arousal.

“Nice ass.” 

There it is. The excitement comes back the moment they start making suggestive comments, the attention riles you up and it’s horrible. 

“Kaminari are you even supposed to be here? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Mina asks at the blonde pervert who was currently zooming on your ass. 

“Oh? We’re cool as long as I don’t stick my dick her,” he points to you. “That’s hella fucking tempting but I’m in love, dude.” He chuckles to himself, thinking about his girlfriend. 

They treat you like an object, talking about you like you were some sort of a toy. 

“Bet her pussy is tight,” Sero says. 

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Yo, Bakubro, can we touch her?” 

Bakugou looks on from watching you lick his boot and turns to Kirishima. A dark, unsettling gaze falls across his eyes as he speaks, “No. This one is mine.” he stares down at you. 

You stop lapping on his shoe and stand back on your knees, buckling your knees you try to get up but Bakugou harshly kicks your shoulder, throwing you back and making you cry. 

“Why did you do that?” you squeal, holding onto your bruised shoulder, glaring at him intently. 

The rest of the group goes quiet at the display of Bakugou’s sudden violence. 

He stands between your thighs, lazily resting his foot atop of your soft thighs. 

“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” the angle you were spread out in had your skirt flipped over hips, displaying your pretty, pastel panties to everyone in the room. 

Even though it’s subtle, masked by everyone’s fear of what Bakugou was planning, you still feel everyone’s gaze focused right on you and more specifically at your clothed cunt. Bakugou presses hard on your thigh making you cry. 

“Useless Deku’s friends are just like him. The fucking second you walked in here, I knew you were just another useless insect for me to stomp on.” He pauses, smirking, pressing his foot onto you even harder, twisting his ankle to increase the burning sting surging across your right thigh. “And I’m doing just that.” 

He steps off you for a moment, letting you catch your breath and recover from the burn. His eyesight travels lower down to your panties. He admires the cute pair you had on. Normally when he’d see girls naked, they’d dress themselves up the most luxurious to match his standards. But that’s not you, that could never be you. 

He rejoices at the thought of seeing your flushed, tear-stained face breaking down under him. You’ll never be like those girls, always a step behind. He can build you up and break you however he likes, you’d have no say in it. 

The power trip drives him crazy. 

He presses the tip of his boot over your clothed clothed cunt, pushing the hard material right over your sensitive clit. 

You gasp at the feeling, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He smirks down at you, moving his foot in a steady rhythm, rubbing the fabric of your cotton panties against your little pearl. 

“This turning you on? What a freak.” The rest of his group basks in shock. They watch intently as the scene spiraled out for them, too captivated to make any comments. They just keep quiet and stare. 

The way you squirm under Bakugou as he plays with your cute clit so unforgivingly makes them hot with excitement. Kaminari feels a little guilty but he blames it on his nature as a man.

Sero feels a little bad for you, they all do. But then again they wouldn’t waste the opportunity to be in Bakugou’s footsteps- literally. 

“You’re a little slut, you know that?” Bakugou sneers. 

Your gasps turn into whimpers as his simulation becomes harder. You clench your fists, desperately wishing it to be over. Tears brim in your eyes at the sheer humiliation of your corrupted form. This was just too much, too much for you to handle. 

“Please, stop,” you beg, knowing he wouldn't listen. “I’ll report you,” you cry.  A roar of laughter starts, shutting you up. 

“Go for it, you do that.” Mina comments. Kaminari walks closer to you, bringing the camera down to your face recording your horrified expressions. 

“We’ll just go ahead and post this online.” he threatens. 

A drop of tear falls down your waterline following a waterfall. You cry, leave all of your dignity behind and cry. You beg them to stop but as your pleas mix with your moans, it’s hard for anyone to understand what you’re saying. It’s not like they don’t know what you’re asking them for, they just turn deaf, simply because they can. 

Bakugou stops, he takes a step back, leaving you alone. You let out the tiniest cry when he leaves, ditching you just when you need his touch the most. 

“Feels like I’m doing too much of the work, if you want it so bad, do this yourself.” He says. Your body still burns with desire, your clit still hard and cunt salivating, you are nowhere close to being done... 

It’s as if something takes over and you are possessed by the dire need to cum, you do exactly as he says. 

You snake your fingers down your panties, deliberately rubbing on your swollen little clit before pushing your finger into your drenched cunt. You cry out as you clench around your finger, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Your legs shake and you close your eyes shut. 

You stay there on the floor, fingering yourself in the corridor, without any shame, while Kaminari records all of it. 

“She’s gonna give me a hard-on,” Kirishima says and you moan.

“She really is a slut, huh?” Sero comments. 

“She’s cute,” Mina adds with a smile. 

Bakugou scoffs, “does Deku know how much of a whore you are?” He asks. 

You don’t pay any attention to what he says, too busy bringing yourself to your climax.

“You’re getting all this right?” Mina looks over Kaminari’s shoulder and onto the phone screen which captures you beautifully losing yourself for everyone to see. 

“You close?” Bakugou asks as you feel yourself clench around fingers tightly, he bends down on his and pulls your panties down your hips, admiring your precious cunt. 

“Cute pussy,” he remarks before flicking your sensitive, hardened clit.

A rush of pleasure washes down your body as you cry while cumming. Bakugou pushes you right over the edge, a nasty grin screaming atop his face as he watches you. You curse at yourself for letting him see you like this, but there’s not much you can do but cry while you feel your juices gush around you before sliding down your thighs and onto the dirty floor. 

It takes a second for you to calm down and when you do come to your senses, dread fills you up. Tears shamelessly fall down your face as you realize what you just did. The others laugh at you, without feeling any remorse. 

Bakugou continues to stare at you with an unsettling look, while the others discuss the heinous crime you’ve just committed. 

Sero looks down at you and you catch his dark eyes staring at you. A toothy grin scavenges his face as he speaks. 

“Awesome,” he says as if he just finished some mediocre movie. 

Finally, you find the courage to get up and run. 

This was totally not awesome. 

[emonaculate]

Kisses n Kick Flips

❥ AU: Highschool!AU

❥ Genre: Fluff/Comedy

❥ Rating: 16+ (Well anyone can read because there's no explicit content, I'm just saying 16 because Eren is gonna be 18)

❥ Pairing: Skater!Eren Yeager x Black!Reader

❥ Word Count: 2.4K

❥ Warnings Include: Puppy Love, Romance, Profanity, and Injuries

❥ Author Note: I wrote this shit because I'm depressed and in desperate need of tooth-rotting romance. Attack on Titan is somehow the best and worst thing that has happened to me in a long fucking time. Not to mention @eremiie and @erotisc gave me some inspiration to work with, so thank you guys! Anyways I hope this helps everyone who is sad over the newest chapter

"Armin you don't understand, she's the smartest person in this whole fucking school; there's no way I'm gonna catch her attention." Eren groaned slamming his head into their lunch table.

"I take personal offense to that; when I'm valedictorian..." Armin frowned not reacting to Eren's physical actions, meaning he was used to seeing it.

"Sorry. But you know what I mean; she's smart and I'm just..."

"A hot-headed dumbass?" Jean quipped, now interested in the conversation at hand.

"Haha. Fuck you, horse face." Eren snapped flipping his friend off.

"I'm just saying if you wanna catch Y/n's attention; you need to completely not be...." Jean looked Eren up and down grimacing as he gestured to his entire body. "Yourself."

"That's not that bad of an idea, Jeanboy." Connie butted in, leaning on the ash-brown boy's shoulder

Before Eren could retaliate, the lunch bell rang meaning it was time for his favorite class of the day, Physics. Without wasting any time, Eren grabbed his bookbag and sprinted out of the cafeteria leaving his friends behind. The excitement began to build through his body as he raced down the halls tightly clutching onto his bag, trying to beat the bell and the other kids walking around.

He made his way into the class extremely early and sat down eagerly, finally for the first time, he'd be able to sit right beside her. A happy smile spread across his face as he leaned back in his chair excitedly.

Damn it all, life was a never-ending cycle of depression and disappointment. All Eren ever knew was pain. He knew was being a tad bit dramatic but how come nothing ever went his way? All that running and dashing was for nothing, especially since Y/n showed up to class later than usual. The only good thing about the entire ordeal was, Y/n sat near the teacher's desk, meaning he could stare at her for as long as he wanted without it looking creepy.

"Yeager, what's the answer?" His teacher snapped, irritated that he was being ignored.

"Huh? Can you repeat the question?"

"As light from a star spreads out and weakens, do gaps form between the photons?" Mr. Shadis repeated, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Um... No?" Eren started having no idea what the hell to say.

"Incorrect. As usual." Shadis scoffed with a slight smirk, satisfied that he managed to crush and embarrass yet another student.

Eren looked down as his face heated up, now he looked like a moron in front of Y/n. Maybe Jean was right, being himself wasn't going to help anything. Or better yet, maybe he should just give up on crushing on someone so out of his league.

"Mr. Shadis, I don't mean to interrupt but actually, Eren is correct. Gaps do not form between photons as light spreads out. Light is made up of tiny fundamental bits called photons. A photon is a quantum object. As such, a photon acts a little like a particle and a little like a wave." Y/n explained looking at their teacher with a slight gleam in her eyes, silently daring him to correct her.

"Ah, Miss L/n. It's nice to see you join the conversation for once, of course, you join to protect your boyfriend."

"Well I couldn't just leave him hanging when he was in the right and knew what he was talking about, isn't that right Eren?"

The smile on the said male's face was entirely too big, he had died and gone straight to Heaven. All the misfortune he had experienced before meant nothing now that Y/n had acknowledged him. He had won at life.

"Um yeah exactly. I have to say, you explained it better than I could." He cleared his throat and looked directly at her, his heart pounding through his ears as she kept eye contact with him.

"Thanks but I just tend to over-explain things, so don't feel bad. Simplicity is nice sometimes."

"Okay that enough, anyways back to the lesson at hand." Shadis grumbled.

Eren waited for the bell to ring before he shot up and walked over to Y/n's seat, the tanned girl was still packing up her belongings. Now that he was close enough, Eren could smell the sweet aroma that radiated off of her body, strawberries, and coconut. Her long braids were pulled up into a half up half down style and her edges had been laid to perfection.

The male felt his palms grow sweaty as he continued to look at her, Jesus had she always been this beautiful? Y/n looked back up at him as her two-toned glossed lips morphed into a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Hi, Eren."

"Hey... um, thanks again for earlier."

"It's no trouble really, can't let Shadis bully his students right?"

"Yeah... yeah" Eren licked his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets now growing self-conscious about what he chose to wear to school.

A tight black wife-beater, grey and white flannel with ripped blue jeans, and finally black Air Forces. Granted it was usual for him, but he wasn't sure if his usual was something Y/n would even remotely be attracted to.

"So I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after school today.." He blurted after gathering all of his confidence.

Y/n's face looked shocked for a moment before she gave an apologetic smile looking away slightly; Eren felt his heart drop to his stomach instantly knowing whatever she was about to say was going to ruin his happy mood.

"Sorry. I can't-"

"Yeah, it's cool. Nevermind forget I asked." Eren walked off, not wanting to act like a dick in front of her.

He knew his temper wasn't exactly the best, but the last thing he wanted was to blow up on her of all people. That's why he was now at the park sitting on a table beside Armin who was doing homework, which really made no sense to Eren since Armin was the one who suggested going to the park in the first place.

"I was so close man. Like all she had to do was say yes."

"So let me get this straight, Y/n defended your dumbass in class and you still fumbled the ball? Wow, Yeager, you surprise me every day." Jean laughed as he watched Connie roll the blunt.

"Say something else and I swear I'm gonna beat the shit out of you. Say something else, I fucking dare you." Eren glared as he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Ayo calm down, don't be getting mad at grade-a asshole over here because of your shortcomings. Jean is a dick don't get me wrong but beating his ass won't help your situation." Connie tsked as he gazed up at Eren.

"Whatever. I'm gonna go skate." Eren stood up and grabbed his board, moving away from his friends.

Sometimes skating was the only thing that could get him to relax, well that and his mother's cookies. But currently, the older he got, the more skating seemed to help him cope with all the bullshit he dealt with on a daily. This skateboard has been with him for years, despite how rough he was with it, it managed to outlast all of the crazy stunts he'd pull.

Eren got a running start and jumped on his board enjoying the feeling of the wind blowing on his face; his eyes fluttered shut as the wind continued to tickle his face. A peaceful sigh escaped his lips as he shifted his body, concentrating on using his other senses.

He would often skate blindfolded, there was something about having the trust all of your other senses to not wind up hurting yourself or others. More than he'd like to admit, usually it would be him that got the short end of the stick.

"Watch out!" A familiar voice screeched causing Eren to snap his eyes open.

His eyes widened as he saw a young girl sitting right in the middle of his path, usually stopping would be no problem for Eren, unfortunately since his focus was thrown off. He continued to advance towards the girl, but in the last second decided to perform a rather high Ollie. Luckily he managed to maneuver his trick perfectly, however, due to the altitude of his jump, the male lost his footing and crashed into the concrete.

"Fuck!" He hissed in pain as he knew he tore skin.

"Oh my god! Are you okay? I'm so sorry." A female voice called out to him as he laid on the ground.

"Just fucking peachy," He sat up ready to finally blow up only to come face to face with Y/n. "Erm. I mean yeah it hurt but I'm fine."

"You're bleeding and it's my fault. I'm so sorry." She panicked as she inspected his face, her warm hands darting out to grab his face.

Suddenly all the pain disappeared from his body, he was on cloud nine again. Eating shit on concrete felt like a piece of cake now that she was here pampering him.

"It's no problem, Y/n. I've felt worse." He replied trying to ease her worries.

"I turn away for one moment and then Gabi just disappeared."

"Hey, it's okay. Y/n look at me, I'm fine." He chuckled and placed his larger hand over hers.

Y/n stared at him for a moment before averting her eyes, seeming to be flustered as she stood up. She shifted awkwardly and stumbled backward, much to Eren's confusion.

"Stay right there. I got some first aid stuff in my car. I'll be right back." She mumbled as she rushed away.

Eren watched her silently with a shit-eating grin on his face, despite his nose and lip bleeding profusely. He watched her baby blue skirt flow along with the over-sized white graphic t-shirt. When Y/n came back, she held tightly onto a little girl's hand and dropped the first-aid kit clumsily as she made eye-contact with Eren.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry."

"Y/n, I never knew you were this uncoordinated." He hummed teasingly as she bent down to grab the kit.

"I'm usually not. It's just because-" She stopped herself and smiled at him. "Nevermind it's nothing."

She sat down in front of him and began to clean the cuts along with scrapes. Y/n bandaged them all up carefully whilst avoiding looking at the male who could nothing but stare at her. His turquoise eyes greedily soaked in the appearance of her face, after-all with how close she was, how could he not?

"And done...Now Gabi," Y/n smiled sweetly, backing away from him as she grabbed the little girl's hand again. "Apologize to Eren. He could have gotten hurt."

"Why should I care? I was there first. He almost messed me up and then I'd have to start all over with my chalk." Gabi sneered and crossed her arms.

"Gabi! Apologize now. Or I'll make sure Reiner, knows about your behavior recently." Y/n said sternly.

"Fine. I'm sorry. Sorry, that you got in my way." Gabi stuck her tongue out at Eren and blew a loud raspberry.

"That's it go stand by the car. Right now." Y/n snapped looking at the child.

"But-" Gabi started as her eyes widened, seeming to not be used to punishment from Y/n.

"No buts. Go. Now." Y/n demanded pointing at the car.

Gabi walked away grumbling to herself and Y/n looked back at Eren apologetically. He stared at her with a raised eyebrow and an amused grin.

"Charming kid."

"She usually isn't like this."

"Oh really? She seems like an angel." He sarcastically replied.

"I'm sorry Eren. Is there any way I can make it up to you?" She mumbled softly looking at him with her big brown eyes.

Eren stiffened up and silently began to recite the pledge of allegiance, there was no reason for how ridiculously attractive she looked when she said that little stupid phrase.

"Let me take you on a date." He blurted dreamily not realizing it had slipped out of his mouth.

"A date?" Y/n questioned curiously.

"Yes. A date, you and me." He responded despite his chest-beating heavily.

"...I don't know." She mumbled looking away from him.

"Y/n..." Eren stood up and looked down at her, cupping her face gently, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "I've had the biggest crush on you since sophomore year. I thought that it would just go away but no matter what I've always just thought about you. Despite the two other girls I've dated, I wanted you. I've never dared to ask you because you're clearly out of my league and I just-"

He was silenced by Y/n pressing her lips against his mouth and Eren was sure he felt his knees buckle, the taste of her vanilla lip-gloss was the tastiest thing he had consumed. He kissed back desperately not wanting the moment to end, his hands held her jaw a little tighter. Y/n broke the kiss first with a bashful smile.

"I like you Eren. I've liked you since middle school. I was just nervous because I thought you were out of my league."

"Bullshit, you're like an Earth goddess and I'm just a dumbass." He protested as his hands found their way to her hips.

"No, you're sweet, caring, friendly, and all-around a really good guy." She hummed wrapping her hands around his neck.

"Mm well, I guess I can say this shit was worth the wait." He leaned down their noses touching gently.

"Definitely," Y/n repeated before Eren captured her lips into another sweet kiss.

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

"Okay, I need to go now." Y/n laughed as he peppered kisses down her shoulder.

"Mm then leave" Eren mumbled nipping at her skin softly.

"I would but you won't let me leave your lap." She retorted as she looked down at his hands that held tightly onto her waist.

"Then I guess you can't go." He grinned.

"Okay, you guys are starting to make me sick." Jean stood up, setting his controller down.

"Yeah me too, Armin why the fuck did you have to set them up." Connie mumbled as he painted his nails.

"What?" Eren paused his motions and looked at his blonde best friend, who was reading a book.

"You guys kept moping to me about liking each other and whenever I advised to just be upfront about your feelings, you guys just ignored me. What else was I supposed to do?" He questioned setting his book down, as it dawns on both Y/n and Eren; they had been manipulated.

"Dammit, Armin." Y/n mumbled despite the smile on her face.

Eren was definitely in Armin's debt forever after realizing he was the reason that Y/n was his girlfriend. The brunette smiled thinking of the perfect way to help his friend, and what better way could he repay him by setting him up with his crush as well?

[the-broken-truth]

Donna meeting a doctor/field medic who manages to reduce/eliminate the cadou parasite growth on her face- 👨✈️

Broken Truth (Holding a Granny Smith Apple): An apple a day keeps the doctor away...(Throws it over my shoulder and walks off to find some granola & yogurt)

It had been half a year since he arrived in the small Romanian village with nothing but a small bag of clothes, a leather doctor's bag, a pouch of Lei, and the smile on his face. For an outsider - he was well versed in the language and asked if there was any property that he could buy; he was given 2 small plots of land that were completely bare.

One the first month of his stay - he cleared the land of any imperfections and started to build. Upon his first plot - he made a home, a firm structure of wood and stone. The villager watched as he broke the stone into pieces and combined them with clay before sculpting them into a kind of paste and filled a strange wooden mold he made on the flattest area of the ground he owned. They watched as the man stabbed long wooden posts in each corner of the paste and some in-between of others. After a day of waiting - the pasta hardened into something as strong as the castle's stone.

Then began making the bones of his house to ensure it would be sturdy in the most unforgiving of winters and it would remain warm in the hardest of rains. Once the bones were placed - he built the rest of his house and used the remaining paste to fill any possible crack. His home was done but...empty. He went into town the next day and did business with a rather fat man who didn't wear shoes and his hands were drowning gems.

Upon the next 2 months - he built a business upon his second plot - a business that most residents of the village appreciated for he was a man of medicine and he was very good at his job. He spent a lot of time familiarizing himself with the land and the forest, along with the plants and berries to make different kinds of salves to relieve anything or...could he really heal everything?

The sound of the bell above the door made the man look from the clipboard he was writing on - he was taking inventory on which salves he was running low on. He looked upon a veiled woman in a black dress with a doll in her arms.

"Good Afternoon," He began as he placed the clipboard back on the hook attached to the wall beside the dresser, "Welcome to the [L/N] Clinic. What can I do for you?" The man asked with a smile but instead of the woman speaking - the doll did.

"This is Mistress Donna Beneviento - The Head of House Beneviento, 2nd Lord of the Village." The doll said.

"Oh, so this is Lady Beneviento? A pleasure to meet you." The doctor bowed before looking at the doll. "And what about you, Young Mistress?" The doll looked confused for a while.

"My name is Angie - Lady Donna speaks through me as she isn't very...trusting of humans."

"Understandable. I am Dr. [Y/N [L/N] - The owner of this clinic. What has caused the Second Lord to bless me with her presence?" The doctor asked with a smile.

"Have you heard of the Cadou?" Angie asked.

"Vaguely. I hear some whispers around about the word but I never really investigated much into it." [Y/N] said.

"The Cadou is a kind of living parasite that infects its host with incredible abilities but it changes its host in some of the worst ways," Angie explained.

"Allow me to assume - Lady Beneviento is infected with one of these Cadou and you wish for me to do something about it." The doctor said.

"Yes. The Cadou in Lady Donna's Link to me - it's the reason I am a living doll but it has caused a horrible scar upon her face that she wishes to be removed or at the very less, reduced in size; we're hoping it won't affect her abilities though." Angie explained.

"I think I might be able to craft a represent for the Cadou but I need a sample of it first." He looked at Donna. "Lady Beneviento, may I see the scar? If I can collect a sample of this Cadou, I can craft something to aid you." The doctor explained. There was a moment of silence before Angie spoke again.

"She shall remove her veil but she warns you - it is not good. Please, do not judge." Angie warned. With a firm nod from the doctor, Donna removed her veil and the doctor's eyes widened before a blush crept upon his face.

"Lady Beneviento...you are...radiant."

'What?' Donna thought.

"What?" Angie asked.

"Forgive my forwardness, but, My Lady, you are a marvel; a true masterpiece, even with your difference. You shouldn't hide such beauty." The doctor praised her with a blush on his face before he looked at the ground like a nervous child talking to his crush.

"You...You really think so?" The voice of the Second Lord asked.

"Most certainly!" The doctor reassured.

[Y/N] went into the back and retrieve two empty syringes and walked over to Donna - slowly piercing it through the skin of the Cadou that took her right eyes and pulled back on the injector to collect the blood infected with Cadou Cells before using the second syringe to take a sample of Donna's blood from her arm unaffected by the Cadou. He promised to find something and call them when he found something and gave them a bow before they left.

He was sad when they left.

[A Few Nights Later]

[Y/N] had not returned home as he looked through the two microscopes - the one of the left was a small sample of the Cadou Cell Blood while other one held the blood of Donna unaffected. [Y/N] had been working for 3 days straight - making sure to tend to his clients but he hasn't slept or really eaten a full meal. He wanted to help Donna.

This was this 5th Attempt at the Cadou repressant - he was sure to document any kind ingredients used in case his memory failed him. He dripped the dropper into 2 nliquified ingredients and plopped it on the slide of the Cadou Sample and his eyes widened as the cells reacted, changed, and began to shrank until they were nothing but small cells - the same as T-Cells. He looked between the 2 microscopes and was pleased with his results and made a note to call Donna in the morning.

'I can't wait to see them again.' The doctor smiled before he walked over to his office chair and fell asleep - his dreams filled with images of the Head of House Beneviento.

[The Next Morning]

"Lady Beneviento and Angie! I'm glad you both got my call!" The man said with a smile as the veiled woman and her doll entered his shop.

"A pleasure, Dr. [Y/N]. When we received your call this morning, we rushed over. We assume you've made promise." Donna said.

"Better than that! I constructed a Cadou Shrinkage - it will shrink the Cadou down to cellular level while still remaining within you so you won't lose your link to Angie." The Doctor smiled.

"And...you are certain that this will work?" Donna asked with slight fear in her voice but soon her hands were taken in the doctor's - they were warm and comforting.

"I swear upon my life, My lady, this will work." He said as he brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles; making the dollmaker blush under her veil.

"O-Okay..." Donna whispered and the two of them went to the Operating Room.

[Hours Later]

Donna looked at her face in the memory - her complete human face. The Cadou Shrinkage was successful but due to it consuming her face for so long, her right eye was blind but [Y/N] assured her that he would be able to contrusct something to restore her sight; in the meantime, he gave her an eyepatch to cover just the eye. She thanked him and processed to gather living doll in her arms before turning to the door to leave when...

"Wait! Lady Beneviento..." She turned to look at the blushing face of the young doctor.

"Yes, Dr. [Y/N]?" Donna asked with a raised eyebrow - his blush darkened.

"I...Um...Have you eaten Breakfast, yet?" He asked as he scratched his cheek with the tip of his finger.

"No. I have not." She answered.

"Then...May I have the honor of taking you out for a late breakfast?!" He asked with a bright face and she smiled.

"I would love that." She nodded.

"Oh...Just fuck already." Angie groaned in Donna's arms.

"ANGIE!!!" Donna and the Doctor blushed before he closed up shop for the day and the 3 of them walked into the light of the sun with smiles on their faces.

[gusu-emilu]

miscellaneous MDZS/CQL fic recs (AO3)

broken into sections: Character Study (-esque), Wangxian, Jiang Cheng ships, Yi City (or Yi City-adjacent), Humor/Crack, and Other

Character Study (-esque)

Wei Wuxian

my eyes got used to the darkness by @curiosity-killed (M, Sunshot Campaign era, 4.4k): The funny thing, the thing that makes his lips curl in a grin and his hands shake with laughter, is that all these cultivators with their lofty principles and noble ambitions can’t even notice the ghost among them. Sure, they shiver at his presence and flinch from his cold hands, but not one of them puts it together. Lan Wangji chases him with healing music and Nie Mingjue frowns solemnly at his dancing corpses—and he laughs and laughs and laughs because they just don’t get it. Emilu's commentary: CW for mild body horror.

Jiang Cheng

in our respective ways by @veliseraptor (T, Sunshot Campaign era, 5.7k): Jiang Cheng has his golden core back. But he seems to have lost Wei Wuxian.

You Know I've Fallen, but I Know How High by villainais (M, Post-WWX's death, 2.7k): Jiang Cheng loses both of his siblings in Nightless City. Minutes apart. He trudges home to Yunmeng with one body, holds a private funeral with a single coffin, and allows himself to wear his mourning robes for ten days—permits himself not a single day more. He is still too young and inexperienced, an unfledged boy to the cultivation world, and he is rebuilding Lotus Pier on his own. He will not gift the other sect leaders the satisfaction of seeing him vulnerable. Propriety be damned. Hanguang-jun emerges from his seclusion wearing white. He does not stop.

Nie Huaisang

it deepens like a coastal shelf by @wolffyluna (M, Post-WWX's death, 21.6k): When Nie Huaisang meets Mo Xuanyu, he realises two things quickly. One, this kid is so doomed. Two, this kid would be a great unwitting spy in his plans to bring down Jin Guangyao. It would be so easy to get into Mo Xuanyu's confidences, and so easy to get him to tell him anything he needs. ...only thing is, that wouldn't be very good for Mo Xuanyu's life expectancy. But he'll do it anyway, if it helps him avenge his brother. A fic about man handing on misery to man, the parallels and cycles in the relationships between Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang and Mo Xuanyu, and the lengths these characters will go to meet their goals and if there are lines they won't cross.

Lan Xichen

an old man in dried mouths by @tenacious-minds (T, Post-Canon, 3.3k): Xichen thinks. The tea had always stained the crockery red. Emilu's commentary: Lan Xichen and Jin Ling talk about Jin Guangyao.

can you be a quiet man? by @basket-of-loquats (Unrated, Post-Canon, 70.7k+) But something inside him snapped at Guanyin Temple-- and Lan Wangji watched it happen, saw the exact moment that Lan Xichen went from broken to shattered, when he buried his sword into Jin Guangyao’s chest, when his sworn brother stared up at him with wide eyes, blood dripping from his mouth, when he pulled himself closer and closer and closer-- When he whispered "Why don’t you die with me?", and Lan Xichen hadn’t argued. Emilu's commentary: Lan Xichen / therapy with a side of Wangxian.

Wen Ning

breathless (but i'll pretend to breathe for you) by swordsainted (T, Burial Mounds Settlement era, 4.1k): Wei Wuxian is silent for a long minute, and then he looks at Wen Ning, something raw and open and hurting behind his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, and Wen Ning shakes his head, still smiling. “You’ve protected everyone. How could I hate you for that?”

Mo Xuanyu

stand at the pit's mouth by @eldritch-elrics (M, MXY's death, 9.3k): The dreams and regrets of a man on the edge of oblivion. Emilu's commentary: Surrealist/absurdist screenplay.

Wangxian

I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett (T, Immortality Post-Canon, 10.4k): During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair. “Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.” “I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.” “And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.” Emilu's commentary: Lan Wangji meets Wei Wuxian centuries later and does not remember the past. There is also an excellent podfic by @forgotten-envies

Look Not With The Eyes by Spodumene (G, Post-Canon, 28.1k): Wei Wuxian returns from his travels to join Lan Wangji on a routine night hunt, but when things take an unexpected turn, Wei Wuxian will have to fight for what he's really looking for. Emilu's commentary: Case fic.

All In A Good Time by bigboobedcanuck (E, Post-Canon, 8k): Lan Zhan is struck by a curse that brings him intense physical pain unless he's being touched. He is stoic and tries to hide his suffering. Wei Wuxian is worried and protective. Perhaps they will finally admit their feelings?

Across a Lake of Glass by Zizzani (E, Figure Skating AU, 92.2k+): Each year, Gusu Skating Club runs a camp for only the most elite athletes of each region. This year brings a new skater from the Yunmeng Club who wears skates lined with red and a smile made for war. He skates like a demon. Figure skating au featuring lots of healthy rivalry, pre and post-competition bonding, and an inexplicable fall from grace through the eyes of the media.

Jiang Cheng Ships

Chengqing

display my heart for you to see by @souridealist (M, Post-Canon Wen Qing Lives AU, 5.5k): Jiang Cheng has his own secrets. Some of them are part of the unburied past; some of them are about how long it's been since anyone has touched him.

while I'm in this body by @souridealist (E, Post-Lotus Pier Massacre, 3.9k): For just a few minutes, alone in her office, Wen Qing allows her self-control to slip enough to cry. It's just her luck that that's when Jiang Cheng comes looking for her. Emilu's commentary: Femdom.

Chengning

it may be that it doesn't matter by @wildehacked (T, Post-Canon, 6.6k) “Are you crying?” Jiang Wanyin asks him, and Wen Ning frowns. Pats his cheek with one hand. “No.” Emilu's commentary: Holy Grail of Chengning.

Whatever It Is by morau (E, Post-Canon, 20.5k): It starts, as with a lot of things, with a very poorly thought out prank, courtesy of Wei Wuxian. Emilu's commentary: A LOT of sex and even more emotions lol

won't run away (we're here to stay) by @qi-ling (T, Post-Canon, 3.5k): "Please don't feel any pressure to accept this, and you can take as much time as you need to think about it." It's a set of robes, in shades of deep purple, complete with leather bracers. Cut in a different style than that of the disciples or household staff, closer to the understated robes Wen Ning typically wears. He reaches out to feel the fabric. His deadened nerves can't sense delicate textures well, but even he can tell it's of a quality on par to Wanyin's own wardrobe. This is startling enough coming from Jiang Wanyin, but then Wen Ning notices the belt. In particular, the silver bell in the shape of a lotus affixed to it. Only recognized members of the Jiang sect may wear the clarity bell. Or, Jiang Cheng has an invitation for Wen Ning.

Zhancheng

By Proxy by @veliseraptor (E, Post-WWX's death, 12k): Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji, looking for comfort in all the wrong places. Emilu's commentary: Hate sex that made me cry

Yi City (or Yi City-adjacent)

Songxuexiao

Heaven Has A Road But No One Walks It by @silvysartfulness (M, Post-Yi City arc Canon Divergence, 123k+): One of the most complex spells of demonic cultivation the world has seen is brought to fruition, and Xiao Xingchen draws his first shaking breaths in over seven years. This, it turns out, is only the start of his problems. Emilu's commentary: Pretty sure everyone already knows about Silvy's happy songxuexiao road trip fic but it has to be here.

Xue Yang & Lan Xichen

Hours On Empty series by @lady-of-the-lotus (M to E, Post-Canon, 57.8k+): AU where Wei Wuxian never came to Yi City and Xue Yang is still running around post-canon disguised as Xiao Xingchen. "Fractured Ice" - Xue Yang whisks a nihilistic Lan Xichen off on a murder roadtrip to raise Xiao Xingchen and Meng Yao from the grave. Because that will solve all of their problems, right? "Control" - "Fractured Ice" retold from Xue Yang's pov. "A Thousand Miles In Its Light" - Alternate ending to "Fractured Ice" and "Control"

Songxiao with Xuexiao Flashbacks

Nothing Beside Remains by @eldritch-elrics (T, Post-Yi City arc Canon Divergence, 21.9k): And Xiao Xingchen is dressed in dark clothing that is not his, and his sight is all of a sudden sharp in a way that it has never been before, and Xue Yang is not here. “He wouldn’t,” he breathes. “No, he wouldn’t do that. He’s too—” “He’s too what?” Wei Wuxian steps a foot closer, face hard-set. “Too cruel? Or too kind?” Or: Xue Yang uses the Sacrifice Summon on Xiao Xingchen. Xiao Xingchen lives with the consequences.

Humor/Crack

The Hangover: A pre-wedding Dramedy series by natcat5 (M, Modern AU, 51.6k): It is not a bachelor party. That was made clear on all the invitations. It is a congratulatory get together for Jin Zixuan, attended by his family, the family of the bride, and the young masters of the other two families in their circle. The gathering is not to go later than midnight, everyone must drink in moderation, and no one is allowed to be hungover tomorrow. Wei Wuxian had promised Yanli, three fingers in the air. Jiang Cheng had rolled his eyes, but promised as well. Saturday morning, Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng wake up alone in a hotel room, missing shoes, phones, and almost all their memories of what in the world happened last night. Also missing: Wei Wuxian, brother of the bride, Lan Wangji, esteemed guest, Lan Xichen, esteemed guest, Jin Zixun, cousin of the groom, Jin Guangyao, brother and best-man, Jin Zixuan, THE GROOM, who is due at his bride-to-be's house in six hours. That's plenty of time to find everyone...right?

Jiang Cheng Loves Jar Jar Bombad Mui by @lady-of-the-lotus (G, Post-Canon, 1.7k) Jar Jar Binks washes up on the shores of Lotus Pier. Can he win the lonely Jiang Cheng's proud heart? Neb neb answer is yesa. Emilu's commentary: There's also a podfic by @aowyn. Yes, with a Jar Jar voice.

Other

Nie Huaisang & Wen Ning

By Name by nirejseki (G, Post-Canon, 1.3k): After the traumatic events in the now-collapsed temple, Wen Ning lingered behind and unexpectedly saw Nie Huaisang, the undisputed victor of an all-around terrible evening, sitting on the steps of the temple, looking exhausted and miserable, as if he’d won nothing at all. Wen Ning found himself drifting over to him.

Jiang Yanli & Nie Mingjue

utility by magicites (G, Arranged Marriage AU, 2.3k): Jiang Yanli and Nie Mingjue's wedding is a political one — a gesture of unity between their Sects. A way for her parents to finally get some use out of the plain-faced sham of a cultivator they call a daughter. “Jiang-guniang,” Nie Mingjue says, and the formality in such a setting as intimate as their wedding chambers startles her, “I don’t wish to bed you. Or any other woman, for that matter. It isn’t fair for you to live alone because of my own preferences.” She rests her hand on his arm, cool relief flooding her body like water on a summer afternoon. “If it helps, I don’t feel desire for men,” she whispers.

Jin Guangyao / Nie Huaisang

Pulling Strings by @eldritch-elrics (E, Post-WWX's death, 5k): Nie Huaisang, quite drunk, turns up at Jin Guangyao’s door one night with an unexpected request. Emilu's commentary: Nie Huaisang knows Jin Guangyao killed Nie Mingjue. This interaction is more symbolic than anything else...

[sunnysviolin]

Omotober Day Five- Photograph

“That's the thing about trust. It's like broken glass. You can put it back together, but the cracks are always visible--like scars that never fully heal.” ― Hope Collier,

Aubrey was almost out the door when her mother dropped the bombshell on her. Usually her mom wasn’t even awake when she was leaving for school, she was still sleeping off whatever bender she had gone on the night before. She was up today, in a stained robe with unkempt hair, but she was up.

“We’re going to visit Flora for dinner tonight. Go home on Basil’s bus, I don’t want you trying to skip out on this,” Past Aubrey would have been elated. Not only was her mom up, but they were going to see her best friend for dinner. Now she growled in irritation and rolled her eyes.

“Mom-”

“Aubrey, don’t even think about starting up,” Her mother cut her off with a warning look. Aubrey shut her mouth but hot anger lit up in her veins. She bit her tongue to stop from screaming as her mother continued her lecturing, “That woman is old and her time is coming soon. Respect thy elders, it’s the godly thing to do,”

The hypocrisy of it filled Aubrey’s mouth with poison, and she balled her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Her mom loved to spout religious crap like this all the time, acting like saying scripture somehow equated to being a good person. Aubrey would have loved to ask her what part of her oh so precious book told her that getting drunk every night was godly, but if she started that fight again she would never make it to school on time.

“Whatever,” Aubrey muttered in lieu of her actual thoughts, pushing past her mother and out the front door. Her mother’s little lecture had taken long enough that the bus stop was completely empty, and that only made Aubrey’s mood even worse. She seized her scooter and whipped it around, putting all of her mental frustration into the physical act of riding to school and away from her house as fast as possible.

The ride did nothing to alleviate Aubrey’s anger and a dark storm cloud hung around her through every period. Students gave her a wide berth and teachers looked at her with distrustful eyes. They were all expecting something to happen, and she hated them for it. They always expected the worst of her. Kel had tried approaching her during their shared study hall, and she ignored him till he left. He wasn’t a true friend, he didn’t really care about her. Aubrey had to remember that, or she would fall for his tricks again.

By the end of the day, Aubrey was exhausted. To the rest of the world, she seemed just as bitter and angry as she was when she got to school, but it was just an easy front that she put out to keep them all away. Truthfully, she just wanted to go home, climb the stairs to her room, and curl up with her bunny (). She wanted to block out the world and all of the fake people in it, forget about false friends and the never ending loneliness that threatened to crush her at any point.

She couldn’t. She had to go to Basil’s.

She found Basil waiting outside, off in a corner. He was standing slightly hunched over, like he was trying to disappear right where he stood. Absolutely pathetic, but that was Basil. A weakling who had used Aubrey. Kel was with him, clearly talking at Basil and not to him. Basil wasn’t even paying attention, just staring off at the trees and playing with his fingers the way Aubrey hated. She walked over in long purposeful strides, putting herself in the middle between the two boys.

“Get lost,” Aubrey snapped, hoping that Kel would argue right back with her. It would be a good outlet, something that would get rid of the storm cloud. Basil was no fun to fight with, he just cried and apologized. At least Kel would do it properly.

But luck was not on her side. Kel didn’t fire back with a harsh retort or even give her a glare. He just sighed and rolled his eyes, something that instantly set alarm bells of resentment ringing in her head. She hated when he acted higher and mightier, rising above her like he was too good to fight with her. It was the same as her mother’s religious rambling, just another hypocrite who thought they were better than they were and judged Aubrey for not playing their game.

“I’ll see you later, Basil ,” Kel said, deliberately putting emphasis on ignoring that Aubrey even existed. The urge to kick out his legs and pound him into the dirt was overwhelming, but the sound of the buses starting to rumble cut off that train before it left the station. She growled and yanked Basil along with her by the wrist, walking over to his bus and climbing the high steps. Aubrey practically threw him into an open three seater and launched her bag in after, sitting as close to the aisle as she could and as far away from him as possible.

She didn’t want them, but as she sat on the bus with her former oldest friend, memories of all the times they had done this before came to her one by one. They had always chosen a two seater before, they hadn’t needed the room of three. They would cram close together and read the same book, or chat about all the things they could do when they got to his house. They had almost missed their stop multiple times because they were so lost in their conversation, and oftentimes they had to shout for the bus driver to hold on so they could get off. It was funny, sweet to the point of saccharine.

The thoughts made Aubrey sick now. She tried to pretend it was just the righteous fury she obviously should have felt at their betrayal, but there was something else in there. A thing with dark claws that dug into her chest and made itself known with pain. The word for it sat heavy in her mind, there but unspoken, pushed to some long forgotten corner that she never looked at and never wanted to. Aubrey had enough trouble grieving the dead, she had no need for grieving the living too. The bus reached their stop and she hopped off without looking back. Basil would follow or he wouldn’t, she didn’t care either way.

“Aubrey!” Flora tottered towards them down the sidewalk, her cane clutched firmly in her right hand. Her white hair was pulled up in her signature bun, and her dress was a pretty floral blue that matched her eyes.

She pulled Aubrey into a hug once the young girl was close enough, holding her in a tight squeeze. Aubrey put her hands around Flora, but she didn’t hug her back. Flora was fragile, her bones easily felt through paper dry skin. Aubrey hoped she never got old enough to feel this breakable, but the hug was still warm and comforting. Flora smelled like old lady soap and dried flowers and clean laundry, a smell that Aubrey loved for how safe it made her feel, and hated for how fleetingly often she got to experience it.

When Flora pulled back she kept her hands on Aubrey’s upper arms, looking the girl up and down. Aubrey resisted the urge to squirm, holding her breath as the old woman appraised her. She hadn’t seen Basil’s grandmother since the funeral almost two years ago, and she knew Flora hadn’t seen her shocking pink hair yet, or the new styles she liked to wear. Aubrey began to steel herself for a long winded speech about respecting her body like a temple, the kind her mom liked to preach after her second bottle of wine.

“You got taller,” Flora commented, turning around and leading the way back to the house, “Come inside, I made some snacks for you two,”

Aubrey slowly let out the breath she had been keeping, letting Basil walk in front of her and towards his house. Flora had never been a mean spirited woman or purposefully judgemental, but Aubrey’s threshold for trust was a lot lower than it used to be. Her anger began to bleed out and shame took its place. Aubrey usually thought the worst of people, and that didn’t bother her because she was usually proven right in the end, but there were exceptions. Flora had never done anything to earn her ire, even if her grandson had.

Aubrey followed them into their home, taking her shoes off at the entrance and looking around. Nothing had changed really, flowers and plants still hung in pots all around and the bookshelf was still packed to the brim. There was a pot bubbling on the stove and vegetables half cut on a board next to it. Flora gestured towards the table and slowly made her way to the fridge, pulling out a carton of strawberries and two oranges. She made quick work of the fruits and was soon putting a platter of cut up pieces of fruit between the two children.

“You two can finish your homework here while I finish up the grub. Dinner is going to be in an hour and a half. I know five o’clock is a little early for you youngins, but I like to be in bed by six!” The old woman laughed at her own nonexistent joke, the sound creaky and roughened with age. She had to stop to cough halfway through, but she waved away Basil’s worried gaze and reaching arms, “Please dear I’m fine. Aubrey you have to teach my grandbaby here how to relax more and just enjoy life,”

Aubrey didn’t respond, using digging through her backpack as an excuse to not have to acknowledge what Basil’s grandmother had said. It was less of a hassle to pretend that she hadn’t heard then to lie and act like she cared if Basil was uptight or not. Basil also didn’t say anything, he just started his work in silence. Flora’s genial mood faltered ever so slightly, but she took their dampened mood in stride.

“Okay then, while you two mope, I’ll keep working on dinner,”

Flora went over to the kitchen proper and turned on the radio, listening to some talk show that Aubrey’s mom also liked. The girl settled into her seat and began to flip through her work, picking and choosing which assignments she would do and which ones she would blow off. There was no point to doing some of them, the teacher was going to fail her anyway, so why should she try? At least if she put all her efforts into one or two classes with cool teachers, she might pass. It was almost dinner time when her peace was broken without her permission

“Did you understand the earth science homework?”

Aubrey looked up, shooting Basil a derisive look for even bothering to speak. He flinched away from her, but held firm, waiting for an answer. She didn’t even want to bother, but she knew Flora was nearby and probably listening, and she would have questions if Aubrey ignored her grandson, or worse, told him to shut up.

“It was easy,” Aubrey tersely replied, putting her anger into her pen. Her words started to come out jagged and uneven, but she didn’t care. It felt good, “It’s just identifying minerals,”

“I don’t get it,” Basil murmured, more to himself than to her. He scratched something out on his worksheet and fisted a hand in his hair, “She explained this over and over, I don’t understand why I don’t get it,”

Aubrey watched the display of his anxiety for a few moments before letting out an exaggerated sigh, letting her head flop back against the chair. It wasn’t even fun to watch him get upset, it just made her feel bad, which only made her angrier. She pushed her chair away from the table, enjoying the loud screech it gave and how uncomfortable it made Basil. Then she stood and walked around the table, leaning over him and getting in his space.

“Which one are you confused on?” She demanded, and he pointed to the question with a shaking finger. She looked at the problem and rolled her eyes. It wasn’t even one of the difficult ones. Their teacher had given them a table of potential minerals and then a series of questions with specific properties. They had to correctly pick which mineral went to which list of properties.

“Okay so you already got half of them, so you just have diamond, muscovite, talc, and gypsum left,” Aubrey stated, going over the options, “The mineral cleaves into thin sheets, has a white streak, and a pearly luster. Which out of those ones has those traits?”

Basil didn’t respond, still shaking from their proximity. He stammered out some unintelligible words, his hands clasping together around his middle. Before he could devolve into an entire anxiety attack, and more importantly before Flora noticed what was going on, Aubrey would have to deal with this

“Would you quit that? I’m not gonna bite,” She barked, and he flinched further away. Great. Aubrey forced herself to take a breath and count to ten, the thing that the annoying school counselor had showed her that almost never worked. Aubrey tried again.

“Okay instead of thinking about it that way. Let’s go with which ones don’t have those features. Does diamond have a streak?”

“No it’s harder than the streak plate,” Basil responded, which was what their teacher had said word for word. Aubrey had started off with a question she knew he would know the answer to, because Mrs. Tommen had made Basil repeat her when she thought he wasn’t paying attention earlier that day.

“So then obviously it can’t be diamond.” Aubrey said, unable to take all of the snottiness in her tone. It had to be good enough, besides he should know it was stupid that he needed help with this.

“The rest have a white streak though,” Basil said after a quick check of his notes, “It could be any of them,”

Aubrey briefly considered banging her head against the wall. Anything to get her away from rocks and this idiot. She walked around to her side of the table and went back to her own work, putting her head close to the paper.

“Look at the rest of the traits. They don’t all have the same traits. Just do it that way, and quit bugging me,” She hissed. Basil wilted, but he focused back on his work.

“Thanks for the help,” It came out quiet and timid, but it was there. Aubrey jerked her head in a nod, and the two of them lapsed back into silent solo work until Aubrey’s mother knocked on the door. She was dressed in a purple dress that had seen better days and came bearing store bought cookies that still had a sale sticker on them. Her hair was done, but flyaways surrounded her head like a dust cloud, and her smile was entirely fake.

Flora came over and greeted Aubrey’s mom with enthusiasm, thanking her for  her generosity and guiding her to the table. They made small talk as Basil and Aubrey gathered their things and Basil set the table. How her mom’s job was going, how was Flora’s health, all the usual things Aubrey couldn’t care less about.

The conversation only got more boring when dinner started. When they had done this in the past, Basil and Aubrey easily entertained one another with jokes and teasing jabs and barely noticed the time passing. Now each minute was an hour and Aubrey had achieved levels of boredom previously never reached. Aubrey caught Basil’s eye and nodded towards the doorway to the bedrooms, hoping he caught her hint.

“Um G-Granny?” Basil stuttered, grabbing her attention, “May Aubrey and I be excused?”

Flora looked at both of their plates and nodded, patting Basil on the arm. They gathered up their plates and put them in the sink. As she was about to finally escape, Aubrey’s mother crooked a finger in her direction. She walked to her mom and was pulled down roughly by the arm. It was nothing like the gentle pats that Flora gave Basil, but a clear warning.

“Behave,” Her mother said in a harsh whisper, and Aubrey gritted her teeth.

She hated that word. She hated her mother. She hated this whole stupid dinner. Aubrey didn’t bother to answer as she pulled away from her mom. Her mom didn’t want an answer, she wanted a doll for a daughter. A pretty perfect doll that made small talk and smiled at jokes that weren’t funny and did whatever she asked. Aubrey stole away from the kitchen table, walking into Basil’s room and shutting the door. She didn’t like spending time with him anymore, and she certainly didn’t want to talk to him, but anything was better than being reminded just how much her own mother didn’t like her.

Basil’s room was also in a stasis, unchanged and unevolved from when she last saw it. The only difference was a blooming white orchid, the petals spread around the stem like angel wings. An orchid that was cared for meticulously, surrounded in the dying light of the day with a golden halo. An orchid that stopped Aubrey in her tracks when her eyes landed on it.

Aubrey had only seen orchids like this in one place. She had assumed that the Pastor did it, or some of the church ladies. She knew that the auxiliary had a circulating list of volunteers that went to tend to the graveyard. Aubrey had even considered that the strange man who always seemed to be in the cemetery might put them there next to her.

She knew Hero didn’t visit. He never went anywhere near the church, hadn’t in years. She didn’t know or care what Kel did, and Sunny didn’t even leave the house anymore. Aubrey had thought she was the only one that visited, the last person that even cared. For some reason her brain had completely blocked out the logical idea that Basil, who loved flowers more than anything, would be the one to carefully tend to a difficult to grow bloom.

“You put these by her?” Aubrey asked quietly, tracing a finger over the delicate petals. Neither of them needed Aubrey to say who “her” was, there was only one person left that connected them. Basil nodded, keeping his eyes down and away from his former friend. Aubrey continued to stare down at the flower, her mind racing faster than she could catch up.

“It’s a white egret,” Basil said, sitting on his bed near her and looking at the flower, “It means my thoughts will follow you into your dreams. I thought it was...I thought she might like it,”

She would have. Mari would have thought it was incredibly sweet, and she would have been able to tell Basil so. She wasn’t like Aubrey who spewed hate without a care in the world but who could never manage to say something kind without stuttering. She would have been able to bring them all together so effortlessly, there would have been no issue. None of this would have ever happened in the first place.

Aubrey was adrift, alone in a sea of confusion that sent wave after wave to try and drown her. She wanted to sit on the bed next to Basil, wanted to finally crack open and let everything out. She could trust him to listen, trust him to care. He was the only one besides her who still cared enough to visit. She should do that. That would be good. But she couldn’t get her feet to move.

“Aubrey?” Basil said, hesitant but still reaching out. She pulled away from the orchid, stumbling back and looking around. A thick leather bound book in the middle of his bookshelf caught her eye, and she wandered over to it. She knew this book.

“Aubrey, don’t.” Basil ordered, his words meaning nothing to her. She could hear him say it, she could even be mildly shocked that he even dared to talk to her like that, when he had been so timid before, but none of it really reached her. Aubrey pulled his photo album out from the shelf, holding it in her hands and opening it.

Instead of the soft faded colors of their childhood, there was black. There was black over Sunny’s birthday, black over her pink raincoat. She could barely make out Hero and Kel arm wrestling, and she only knew which pictures were from the beach based on the small bits of yellow that peaked through the marker staining the memory.

He had scribbled over Mari’s picture.

Aubrey had never had an out of body experience like this. She was always solid, always grounded. Even when she had heard what Mari did, there was no part of her that was able to check out of the situation. Now she was high in the sky, somewhere distant and far where she could only watch as her heart was broken all over again.

A rough tug jerked her back into her body. Basil had snatched the album back from her, his eyes wild and blown wide open. She couldn’t even respond, she had no idea what to do first- steal the album back, or kill him.

“Get out!” Basil shrieked, holding the book against his chest and falling to his knees. She didn’t want to. She wanted to hit him, to feel his bones breaking under her fists and hear him crying out in pain. She could hurt him worse than he hurt her, make it so she wasn’t the only one suffering. He did this. He was the one who did this, and she wouldn’t be to blame for that. She wanted to wring his neck, to break down and start sobbing.

She wanted to run.

Aubrey shouted in rage, beyond words and beyond any outward expression of the emotions roiling within. She bodily threw the door open, running past the table and out the door. She heard her mother and Flora calling for her, but she ignored them, slamming the door and continuing to sprint away. She got back to her house in record time, not bothering to close the front door as she climbed up the ladder to her room as quickly as possible.

Aubrey locked the trap door to her room, finally letting out the scream that had been building up within her. No one was there to hear it but her bunny, and she was currently hiding in her hut from Aubrey’s meltdown. Aubrey flung herself onto her bed and buried her face in her pillows, screaming again. She could hear her mother coming into the house now, screeching in rage at Aubrey’s dramatic exit, catapulting insults left and right about Aubrey. The girl wasn’t listening and didn’t care. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. She would get that album back from Basil, whatever it took to do so, and she would never, never, trust him again.

[quickparkers]

2 words

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Everybody has a soulmate. You’ve been searching for yours for your whole life and when you thought you had finally met him, it wasn’t him at the end. But then Wanda took you to Westview and well, life is full of surprises.

Warnings: death, fluff (kinda?)

Word count: 3242

A/N: hii, i haven’t written anything in like year and a half, so i’d appreciate anyone’s feedback!<3

Everybody is born with two words written into their skin on their wrist. The two words are the name of your soulmate, the one who is your everything, your support, your other half. You’ve always wondered when you were finally going to meet the person with the name that has been written on your skin in black ink since you could remember. You were meant to meet them, but you still haven’t. Most of your friends and family had met their soulmates, but you were unlucky. You had given up after all this time, if you were destined to meet them as everybody told you since you were little, you were going to find your way to each other, somehow.

Although, there was that one time you’ve thought you’ve finally met your soulmate, but you only thought. 

The Avengers met you during some mission, trying to help you only to find out to you can save yourself on your own. 

The one and only Tony Stark was on his way to save you from Hydra agents that took you as a prisoner, but when he saw you defeating 5 guys twice your size, using your powers, he was left speechless. Using electricity and the ability to phase, you knocked all of them down to the floor in a matter of seconds. You looked around, noticing Iron Man standing there, you weren’t really sure what to do, so you started running away immediately.

"Listen, kid, stop running and hear me out. I’ve got an offer for you." at that moment, you stopped and decided to hear him out. 

A few days later, you were brought to the Avengers HQ as a new member to be. You were introduced to everyone and everything was going smoothly, but then a young girl and a boy around your age came in. "Yeah and these two are the Maximoff twins, you will get to know them later. Now come with me, we need to do some power tests, Bruce is already waiting in the lab." Tony said, leading you to the labs. But you were completely going crazy. Maximoff was the surname of your soulmate. Was it him? It had to be, this couldn’t be a coincidence. 

After the tests, Tony let you go and you did not hesitate to go and meet the boy with white-ish hair. He was in the kitchen, getting himself something, you didn’t really pay attention to that. 

"Uh, hey," 

He turned to look at you and smiled a little. It had to be him. "Hi, you’re the new one right?" he asked, the sokovian accent standing out. You nodded. 

"What’s your name?" this was the moment when you were going to find out if it’s him. But it was him, right? 

"Pietro Maximoff, your princessa?" he smirked a little, his confident nature coming out. It was him, you’ve finally found him! You rolled up your sleeve to look at the name on your wrist and read it. The few letters said 'Peter Maximoff'. Wait this had to be some kind of mistake, right? You looked at him and then back at your wrist. He was Pietro, not Peter.

"No, no, no, no!" you whispered, scaring Pietro a little when electricity started coming out of your fingers. "It has to be you! This makes no sense-" 

"What? What are you talking about?" he asked, staring at you. You showed him your wrist and he read the name and realized what was happening. He showed you his wrist, asking "Is your name Crystalia Amaquelin by any chance?" you re-read the name on his and your wrist many times, realizing it wasn’t him. 

"I’d love to say it is, but I’m Y/n." you shook your head, tears still running down your cheeks. 

He wiped those few tears away, a comforting smile forming on his lips. "Hey, I haven’t met her yet either, but we just have to give it vremya, I mean time, y’know." he comforted you. You nodded, smiling at him a little.

Afer this moment, you and Pietro became really close. You both promised each other that you were going to help find your soulmates. But he broke the promise. When you saw him lying on the ground, crimson red staining his suit, you felt like a part of you died too. Maybe he was your soulmate in some way after all. 

After his death, you and his twin Wanda became like sisters. You helped each other in everything. It was kind of ironic, losing him helped you find someone else, but you wished you had both of them. 

You were there for Wanda any time, as she was there for you. When you watched her find her own soulmate and fall in love with him, you couldn’t be happier for her, but when you saw her losing him, it was the worst thing you’ve ever experienced. It felt like you lost your own soulmate. 

When she came to you one day, saying she wanted to start her life with Vision in Westview, you thought she was crazy. But after she explained everything to you, she convinced you to come with her. After the final battle, she was the only person you had left. There was no other option than to follow her into Westview.

———

Your life in Westview has been great so far. You didn’t really remember how exactly you got there, but you didn’t care. You were happy, kinda. You lived in the same street as the Wandavision family, had a decent job at the electricity supplier of Westview (how shocking right) and everything has been going well for you.

There were no big bad guys that wanted to kill you and almost no crime. Westview was only about the town drama, community events, and things like that. It was peaceful. 

But you were still missing that one thing, that one someone. 'We just have to give it vremya' echoed through your head as you thought. You will meet him someday. You knew it. 

You were currently on your way to Wanda’s house for the needed best friend chit-chat time, bringing brownies for the boys as you promised them the last time you were there. 

Even though you lived close to them, you still made a shortcut, phasing through fences as you made your way to their house. Hopefully, nobody had seen you. 

You rang the bell, hearing Wanda and the twins in instant. 

"That’s aunt Y/n/n! I’m going to get it!" you heard Billy. 

"No, I am!" you heard Tommy. 

You chuckled to yourself, waiting. After a few seconds, the door swung open, revealing the twins who were too eager to see you. 

"There are my favorite twins!" you smiled at them and they hugged you, fighting who was going to hug you more in between. 

"Enough boys, let Y/n breathe," Wanda laughed as she walked over to you as well. The boys let go of you and you and Wanda gave each other a quick hug as well. 

"We need to catch up on all the drama that has been going on, honey." she expressed dramatically, making you and herself giggle. 

She closed the door after you and both of you went to the kitchen. "Oh and here are the brownies for the boys, I added extra chocolate chips on the-" 

Wanda put her finger on your mouth to shush you up, "Shhh, they can’t hear about the brownies no-" she was interrupted as well, but by the boys, as they ran to the kitchen. 

"Brownies!" they both shouted happily. Wanda sighed, letting both of them get a piece. You laughed, not caring, you were the fun kind of aunt for them.

"Mom?" asked Billy, as he munched on the brownie. Wanda looked down at him, raising her eyebrows. 

"Hm?" 

"Since uncle P. is here now, does it mean that he and aunt Y/n/n are together?" Tommy asked, catching you off guard. 'Uncle P.? Who is that?' you wondered. 

Wanda gasped at the question, her eyes widening, but you saw something else in her eyes. "Oh boys, you know that these questions are inappropriate.."

You didn’t really pay attention to the conversation that was going on between the mother and her sons when you heard steps coming from the floor above. You looked at the stairs, your heart beating rapidly. You felt nervous, anxiety washing over you. You had no idea what was going on. 

You walked closer to the stairs, staring blankly at them, waiting for whoever was going to come down. At that moment, you only saw silver lines on the stairs and felt wind all of sudden. 'Was that Pietro?'

"Did I hear someone say my name?" you heard someone say from behind, a laugh of the boys following. You slowly turned around to see a man with silver, kinda white-ish hair, ruffling the twins’ hair. 

"We were just talking about you and aunt Y/n/n," Tommy explained to the man, as he and Billy smirked at him. You were just standing there, looking at him and the twins, back and forth. The man finally looked up and saw you there, staring at him. At that moment he speeded away but was back in a second. It looked like he ran off to get changed..?

"You didn’t tell me a cute girl was coming over, Wanda," he whispered to his sister, or at least tried to whisper since you still heard him, glaring at her. She laughed at him, rolling her eyes. Then suddenly, the man was standing in front of you. You were just staring at him, not knowing what to say. 

"Hi, sorry for my behavior, my name is Peter-"

"Maximoff" you finished his sentence. Peter tilted his head, visible confusion in his face.

"Mom why are they being so weir-" you heard Tommy saying before Wanda shushed him up and left the room with both of the twins, knowing exactly what was going on.

"Wait, Y/n/n is short for Y/n, am I right?" he asked, realizing who you were, his eyes wide. "Y/n Y/l/n?" You nodded your head. You looked straight into his eyes for the first time. They were deep, dark shade of brown and felt warm for some reason.

Both of you just stood there, looking at each other, studying each other. He stepped closer to you, brushing your hand with his. As you felt his touch for the first time, electricity from your body found its way to give him a little shock. He flinched away, a little "ow" coming from him. 

At that moment you came back to your senses and looked around you, then looked at him. "I have to go," you mumbled, turned around, and left the house as quickly as you could. 

Peter wanted to run after you, knowing it wouldn’t be a problem for him, but he knew he had to give you time. Maybe not much since he was an impatient person, but a little at least. 

You rushed home while thinking about what had just happened. It was him. It really was him. You could’ve talked to him, asked him so many questions, but instead, you just left without even saying sorry for shocking him with electricity. This wasn’t going well. You were supposed to meet your soulmate.. differently. 

When you came home, you just sat down on your bed and replayed the whole scene in your head over and over again. You remembered the way he looked at you, it was almost the only thing you could remember.

You’ve met your soulmate, you’ve finally met him. Was he disappointed? Did you scare him? You had so many questions but no answers. 

———

It had been almost two weeks since you had been to Wanda’s house since you had finally met him. You tried to avoid their whole family the whole time, only going to work and back home immediately. You missed going to Wanda’s house and hanging out there, but you knew he would be there.

It was around 7 pm when the phone in your living room rang. You were just washing dishes, so you quickly dried your hands with a towel and then picked up the phone. 

"Hello?" you answered the phone.

"Hi! Do you have any plans tonight?" it was Wanda, you knew her voice too well to not recognize her.

"No really, do you need anything?" 

"Uh, yes, you know we have planned a date with Vision and we’re looking forward to it, but the babysitter for the boys canceled at the last minute. Could you please come over and watch the boys for me?" she asked, tone of hope in her voice that you would say yes.

"Uh-" 

"Peter is not here, Y/n/n. Don’t worry," she reassured you, knowing you didn’t want to see him. 

"Okay then, I’ll be there in 20." you agreed, hearing Wanda telling Vision they could go. 

"Alrighty, see you then!" and she hung up. 

You finished cleaning the dishes, changed your clothes to something more presentable since you had your pajamas on. 

As always, you used a shortcut through your neighbors' fences and walls, so you were at Wanda’s in a few minutes. 

Waiting in front of the door for someone to let you in, you could hear Wanda and Vision both running around, getting ready. But you didn’t hear either of the boys. 

The door swung open, revealing Wanda in a stunning dress and Vision standing next to her in a suit. "Oh hi honey, thanks for coming! We’ll be back in 3 hours or so," Wanda said and hugged you quickly. 

"Yes, thank you, Y/n." Vision smiled. 

You went in, looking for the boys, but they were nowhere to be seen. "Wait Wanda, where are the twins-"

"Oh they are at a sleepover, but you can babysit my stupid brother actually! Goodbye!" she grinned and closed the door with her powers as she walked away with her husband.

At that moment, Peter ran into the living room, not knowing you were there. Once again, he was only in his pyjamas. "Hey Wan-" he turned and saw you. He looked down at his clothes and sighed. "God, not again!" he speeded away, but was back in a matter of seconds, this time in jeans and a hoodie. 

"Hi" he smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I’m just gonna go- I was supposed to babysit the boys but since they ar-" you explained to him as you tried to walk to the door, but you were cut off when he suddenly appeared in front of you, not letting you get to the door. "Don’t," he whispered, looking down at you with those brown eyes. "Please." 

"Okay," you muttered. A smile appeared on his face when you agreed. He gestured for you to sit down on the couch with him. You both sat down not too close to each other, he remembered how he made you nervous the last time you had seen each other. 

You sat in silence for some time, neither of you not knowing what to say. You were looking at the turned-off tv, while he was shifting in his seat the whole time. 

"Can I see your wrist?" he asked all of sudden. You glanced at him and then at your wrist. You nodded your head and he scooted closer to you, but still kept his distance. 

You rolled up your sleeve and so did he. You showed him the words on your wrist and he placed his wrist next to yours. You read the words that were written on his skin, it really was your name. 

Peter couldn’t help himself and brushed his fingers again the words that were saying his name on your wrist. He wanted to make sure it’s real, that they wouldn’t just smudge as if they were written with a fix. They were real. He felt electricity coming from you again as his skin touched yours, but it was different this time. He looked at you, smiling. This time, you returned the smile, making his heart skip a beat. He blushed slightly and looked away. 

After a few seconds, it was him again who spoke up first. "So, I have a few questions," he leaned against the couch. You shrugged your shoulders and repeated what he did, sitting a little bit closer this time. 

You’ve spent like two hours talking with Peter about everything. It was as you imagined, you’ve laughed together, shared your stories with each other and it all felt right. 

You both were laughing at a story about how he once pranked his whole neighborhood by stealing everyone’s toilet paper when he was younger. "You didn’t" you laughed, your belly hurting. 

"Oh yes I did, it was hilarious, but my mom wanted to kill me.." he said, making you laugh even more. 

Peter felt intoxicated with your laugh, realizing that making you happy was everything he ever wanted to do. You really were his soulmate. 

You lay your head on his shoulder, the laughter washing off now. Peter glanced at you, hesitating to ask the question he wanted to say out loud the whole evening. "Were you disappointed when you first met me?" 

You sat up straight, raising your brows at him. "What?"

"I mean, you didn’t want to see me again... if Wanda hadn’t planned this, we wouldn’t be here right now." 

"I wasn’t disappointed, and I’m not. Peter, you come off like a really confident person, and the way it just happened, I got scared. I’m sorry if I made you feel like this." you reached for his hand, intertwining it with yours. 

He looked down at your hands, this time not feeling any electricity coming from you at all. "Oh, I have one last question.. for tonight." you nodded your head, gesturing for him to continue. "What exactly are your powers?" he asked, rather excited. 

"Well," you squeezed his hand, giving him a little electric shock. He gasped since he didn’t see that coming. "I can basically create electricity, manipulate it, and also can phase through things," you said proudly since you felt confident when it came to your powers. 

"That’s so cool, you’re so cool," he said, smiling at you in awe. You looked away from him, shyness taking over you. And Peter noticed it. Coming back to his confident and cocky self, he scooted closer to get you to look at him. "I kind of wanna know how would it feel to kiss you now.." he flirted, knowing it would make you even more flustered. 

You leaned in a little, glancing at his lips. "Then I should probably show you huh?" you said, licking your lips. "But not tonight." you got up from the couch and winked at him, now it was him who was all flustered. You walked to the door and before you could say goodbye, he appeared in front of you, pecked your lips, and in less than a second he was sitting on the couch as he did before. 

Your eyes widened as you saw him sitting on the couch, the smirk back on his lips. "I know you basically for like 3 hours and you are already a pain in the ass, Maximoff," you shook your head, chuckling. 

"That’s your problem since I’m your soulmate. You can't get rid of me now." he said, his charming smirk not leaving his face.

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust Pt.3 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N catches the eye of one of her male classmates who invites her to an upcoming party. As she weighs her options, Peter takes her out for a treat but old history comes back up. 

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I hope everyone is safe during this crazy time. Remember: Wear a mask, wash your hands, and only leave your house for necessities! You can literally stay at home and read fanfiction all day and you would be saving lives! I introduced a new male character and I’ll be real, Joshua Bassett needs to be appreciated so I put him in! However, for the character Josh you can think of any celeb or crush you have if you want! 

Warnings: Adult language, mentions of sex

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || 

part seven || part eight || epilogue

When Monday rolled around, all you wanted to do was stay home. You felt that there was too much going on to just go on autopilot for eight hours at school when all you could think about was how to fix Peter.

While you had decided that you would at least be nice to him, there was still a small part of you that was worried about what would happen if he never got better. 

How much of your relationship would change and worst of all, what would happen to his ‘superhero’ duties?

If you were really the only thing running through his mind, how would he even function saving lives?

As much as you wanted to sit and worry about him, you knew you needed to get your own life together before you started fixing other people like going to school.

You went to college-prep academy which really just meant that everyone had to wear uniforms to kill all individualistic forms of expression and pay ridiculous tuition to learn. 

You really didn’t mind since most of your classes were ridiculously easy but a lot of your classmates were spoiled monsters who liked to flaunt their rich last name.

Lucky for you, Stark was pretty hard to beat.

Once you slipped your blazer on, you grabbed the straps of your backpack and walked out into the kitchen to pack your lunch where Peter was already awake, making breakfast.

Usually, by this time, Peter would already be on his way to school on the subway but your dad and Banner thought it would be best for him to stay at the complex so they could run more tests on him.

Peter took his attention off of the stove and drew his eyes towards you, his face already flushed red as he tried not to stare below your skirt,” Y/N! You look really pretty in your uh- uniform.”

At this point, you knew that whatever words that came out of Peter’s mouth wasn’t his fault so you decided to roll with it. You were so used to him always giving you snarky replies about your school uniform but now, you didn’t have to waste your energy thinking of a comeback.

You hummed as you leaned over the kitchen island to grab a piece of bacon that was off to the side,” And you look really pretty in your pajamas Parker. How are you holding up? Are they getting any closer into figuring out how to stop your chest pains?”

Ever since Peter first made contact with the lovedust, he had been complaining about how tight his chest was feeling. It seemed like a normal side effect since it would happen whenever you were close to him but as days passed, his chest started to hurt more every time you weren’t around.

You felt guilty knowing that you going to school would literally cause him pain but at the same time, you couldn’t adjust your whole life around Peter.

Peter shook his head as he swallowed hard,” No not yet but I’m sure they’ll figure out something soon... I packed your lunch by the way. It’s over there by the sink.”

You looked over towards the sink and sure enough, your lunch bag that you hadn’t used since freshman year was neatly packed. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your school had really good chicken pesto on Mondays so you gladly looked through the lunch bag to see what was inside.

As you looked through it, you could see a white piece of lined paper folded and taped against a small packet of Oreos. Peter noticed that you had found the note and this time, his face grew redder.

“ You can throw it away if you want, I thought it would be nice or whatever,” Peter said quietly as he walked over to where you were standing.

He reached for your lunch bag but you tensed up, pulling it towards your chest,” Aw, come on Parker, please? Technically, this note is like mail and you know it’s a federal crime to tamper with it.”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek and nodded as he rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs. You had never seen Peter ever this flustered before and a part of you felt guilty that you were the reason he was so nervous but a part of you liked the attention.

You had to remind yourself that once Peter was cured, it gave him free rein to possibly be the same dick as before. At least for now, you liked being friends with Peter.

“ I gotta go now but I’ll see you after school,” You finally said as you put your backpack on and walked over to the elevator,” try not to die or anything.”

“ I’ll do my best, have a good day,” Peter smiled as he suddenly remembered something,” oh, make sure you bring an umbrella, it’s supposed to rain today.”

You checked your phone to look at the weather for the afternoon but saw that it was supposed to be bright and sunny all day,” I’m sure it’ll be fine, bye Parker.”

Once you made it all the way downstairs to the main entrance, you looked behind your shoulder to make sure no one was behind you before rummaging through your lunch bag. You took out the note Peter had written to you and even though you didn’t even open it yet, you already felt your stomach twisting and turning.

You had a feeling it would be him saying how pretty you looked or how much he loved you since he was under his lovey trance but when you opened up the note, you felt yourself smile.

Thank you for not being weird about everything that’s going on. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. P.S I love it when you call me Parker

                                                      -------

School dragged on and on and by the time the last bell had rung, you felt like you were on the verge of dropping out.

Any of your STEM classes weren’t as interesting or as challenging to you anymore, especially since you had a whole floor in your own house that was just laboratories filled with people who have actually won Nobel Prizes.  

Once you left class, you made your way straight to your locker and put your math textbook into your backpack. When you shut your locker, you looked up to see your friend Kim holding up her phone towards your face.

“ Hello to you too, what am I looking at?” You asked as you took her phone to get a better look at the screen,” is this a Snapchat invitation?”

“ Good, you can read,” Kim teased as she adjusted the straps of her backpack,” Amber is throwing a party on Saturday and we have to go!”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you handed the phone back to her. You didn’t hate parties but you much rather preferred smaller functions with all of your friends than a room filled with total strangers your age.

“ I thought we hated Amber and I’m pretty sure she hates us. She literally called you rat face when you were doing your presentation and you pushed her into the trashcan the other day,” You reminded Kim as your mind thought back to how much you disliked Amber.

If your school was the chocolate factory, Amber Kennedy was Veruca Salt. Anytime she pouted and whined about whatever new golden ticket she craved, she got it.

While Amber never anything specific towards you, anyone who disrespected your friend was an enemy in your book.

Kim rolled her eyes as the two of you made your way down the hallway,” Okay that’s true, I hate that bitch with every fiber of my being but I just need a mental break from school. Plus, it’ll be good for you to get yourself out there. I heard a certain lead singer in a band is looking forward to seeing you there.”

You knew right away who Kim was going on about but you only shrugged,” I don’t know who you’re talking about...Is it raining outside?”

Of course, she knew you were lying because there was only one guy you ever mentioned around her when you weren’t complaining about Peter.

Joshua- or Josh- was one of the few guys in your life who managed to not piss you off completely but that wasn’t the only thing you liked about him.

“ Let me refresh your memory; dark brown, curly-haired genius who sits behind you in Anatomy and according to you has ‘perfect brown eyes that make me want to jump off a bridge’?” Kim reminded you as you playfully hit her shoulder.

You were never the type to be boy crazy and you weren’t one of the girls who felt their knees buckle every time they saw him, but whenever he would wave or smile at you in class, you had to physically stop yourself from blushing like a schoolgirl.

In all honesty, you wouldn’t say you and Josh were friends, a better-suited term would be classmates that occasionally talked about things outside of school ever now and then. 

“ Look, as much as I would love to go to a party where I know no one and where the host hates me, I’m not going to go to a party just because Josh is going to be there. I don’t care how cute he is, I’m busy dealing with you know who,” You said as you heard someone chuckle behind you.

“ You think I’m cute?”

Your heart dropped to the floor as you turned around to see Josh standing behind you with a wide smirk on his face. You could feel your throat hitch as you quickly looked Josh up and down to make sure he was not a figment of your imagination.

It was nearly impossible for anyone to look good in a school uniform but of course, Josh managed to pull it off every time. His tie was loosely undone around his white collar and his sleeves were rolled up all the way to his elbows and you were 100% on board with it.

For a moment, you felt actual sympathy for Peter because now you understood how he must be feeling.

Without a second thought, you felt your binder slip out of your hands and once it hit the floor, your notes came out of the binder pocket.

You both took a moment to stare at the papers on the floor but Josh was the first one to bend down and pick some of them up.

You snapped out of your daze and kneeled down in front of him awkwardly as you helped him pick up your notes,” I’m sorry, you just startled me.”

Josh let out a small laugh as he shook his head,” Well, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was hoping to do the opposite actually. I was calling your name earlier but I guess you were too busy talking about...me.”

You pressed your lips together as you tried to avoid his gaze, as if that would help the blush fade away,” Yeah, about that, Kim was just telling me that you were planning to go to some party this weekend. Apparently, your band is playing right?”

You looked over your shoulder to look up at Kim but she was nowhere to be seen. Coward.

“ Amber’s party, yeah,” Josh said as you neatly put your stack of papers into your binder,” I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but were you saying that you aren’t going?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up at Josh and you felt stupid for feeling so nervous around him.

 By all means, you were not in love with him and saying that he was your crush was pushing it a bit.

All you knew was that apparently, Josh had been asking about you and that alone made something inside of you click.

You cleared your throat as you nodded, tearing your eyes away from his,” I mean, I would love to go but I might have plans.”

“ That’s too bad, I was kinda hoping I would see you there,” Josh said quietly, his face slightly flushed,” but don’t worry about it. I’m sure whatever you have going on is more important than just some party.”

You didn’t even realize you were both reaching for the same page of notes until his hand rested against yours for a moment. Your heart stopped as you waited for him to pull his hand away but he kept it on top of yours.

After a few seconds passed, Josh held your hand tightly as he helped you stand up again. He gave your hand one last squeeze before he let his hand fall to the side.

What the hell is happening?

As much as you wanted to go to the party, all you could think about was Peter. You knew that more than ever, he needed you and if your dad needed your help in the lab, you wanted to be there.

Then, as if your mind was telling you to reconsider, it pushed forward the conversation you had with Peter before he made contact with the lovedust.

“ You wasted your whole high school years on never accomplishing anything. You never went to a single party, you never passed your drivers test, and you’ve never even had a boyfriend before.”

A part of you couldn’t even believe Peter would ever say something like that because of how obsessed he is over you. Yet, that memory of Peter was only a few days ago.

You couldn’t just let it all go, you knew he was capable of saying hurtful things and for once, you didn’t want to worry about someone else.

For the first time ever, you were going to be selfish.

“ Maybe I can stop by to say hi or something to listen to your band,” You said as you watched him smile back,” but I can’t promise anything.”

Josh flipped his blazer over his shoulder and smirked,” Too late, I’m already looking forward to seeing you there.”

Josh gave a small wave before walking back over to his friends who were leaned up against the lockers. As you walked away, you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.

When you got to the front doors, you looked out the windows and watched the rain quietly. Of course, Peter was right.

You had planned to walk to the subway station after school since you knew your dad would be too busy fixing Peter to pick you up but if you would have known it was going to rain, you would’ve asked Kim to take you home.

You opened up the glass doors and held your textbook over your head, thankful for once that Mr. Carter had assigned homework from this mammoth of a book.  As you made your way down the stairs, you spotted a familiar face waiting on the bench in the courtyard with an umbrella.

“ Peter?” You called out as his head snapped up to see you,” what are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the lab?”

Peter stood up and held the umbrella closer to you so you wouldn’t get wet and rubbed the back of his neck.

“ Your dad and Banner have been running tests on me all morning so they sent me to my room to rest for a bit. But then I saw that you forgot your umbrella and I didn’t want you to walk to the subway in the rain,” Peter said as the two of you shared the umbrella,” so here I am.”

“ You didn’t have to come all this way...but thank you,” You said as the two of you walked out the gates. 

Peter smiled as you interlocked your arms with him to get closer. As the two of you made your way across town, you both exchanged how your day went but when it came to talking about yours,  you purposely left out the part about Josh and the party.

You didn’t know why you would even keep it from him but you just kept telling yourself that what Peter didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him. Plus, if Peter found out about your interaction with Josh, there could be a possibility that he would be on a whole other level of jealousy and frankly, you didn’t have the time.

“ So, I read your note,” You said as you felt Peter tense up beside you,” you said you’d make it up to me and now I’m intrigued. What did you have in mind?”

“ A lot of things, if we’re thinking about someplace romantic there’s this-” Peter stopped himself and shook his head before taking a breath,” sorry. I’m just trying to get better at controlling what I say around you. I was just going to say that there’s this place around the corner that makes really good milkshakes and I thought it would be a nice date- as friends! Just friends. Unless you want to- fuck! I’m sorry Y/N, I’m just going to shut up now.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a small laugh as Peter shook his head,” You’re such a sap, Parker. It really is never a dull moment with you.”

Peter opened up the diner doors and as soon as you stepped in, you felt like you had been transported back in time.

The floor was sketched in the iconic black and white checkered print and the platinum bar had bright red stools along the outside. 

Just from your spot in the front, you could smell the peppermint disinfectant that they used to wipe down the tables but you were most focused on the jukebox in the corner as a Ritchie Valens song started to play in the background.

“ How did you find this place?” You asked as Peter led you to one of the booths in the corner of the diner.

“ I always knew about it but I figured it wouldn’t be fun without bringing someone along,” Peter admitted as you looked around at the old, decorative records across the wall,” I know how much you like those old movies so I thought it would be nice to take you back to the fun part of the 50s without the, you know, racism.”

You shook your head laughing as you turned your attention to the menu,” Nothing says the 50s like institutionalized racism and systemic oppression of women.”

Once the waitress arrived at the booth, Peter ordered a milkshake for the two of you to share and while you felt yourself falling deeper into the cliche, you couldn’t oppose since he was paying.

When the waitress left, Peter turned back to you and rested his hands on the table nervously. You couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking about but that in itself made you stand up straighter.

“ Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to but I’m just curious,” You asked as Peter nodded enthusiastically.

“ What does the lovedust feel like?” You asked as Peter raised his eyebrow,” I mean, how does it make you feel... about me?”

Peter felt the inside of his mouth dry up as he croaked,” Do you mean- are you asking me what it feels like to be in love with you? Because honestly Y/N,  it feels so weird-”

“ Being in love with me is weird?”

“ Well yeah! Wait no! No, it’s not weird!” Peter stammered as you watched him get more and more nervous,” it’s not weird to love you but my body feels weird around you. My hands are constantly sweaty and clammy and sometimes it’s hard to even focus on small things like breathing. I can’t even shower without thinking of you- not like that- well kinda like that- but every time I have a quiet moment to myself, all my mind wants to think about is you. When your dad was running tests on me this morning, all I could think about was how you two shared the same last name and one day-hopefully-I can change your last name to Parker- okay see I can’t stop what comes out of my mouth when I’m on a roll!”  

As your mind started to break down every sentence he said, the waitress gave Peter a strange look before placing the milkshake in front of the two of you.

“ Wow, okay that was... a lot. You could’ve left out about half of that but I’ll give you a pass because I feel sorry for you,” You admitted as you took the paper wrapping off of the straw and dipped it into your milkshake,” but is there anything else? Like is there any part of you that still hates me? Or is it all gone because of the lovedust?”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows as you leaned over to take a sip,” Hate you? I never hated you Y/N.”

You pulled your lips away from the straw and sat back,” What do you mean you never hated me? I’m pretty sure you hated me, we were so mean to each other. Like our relationship was toxic as hell.”

Peter lightly banged his straw against the table and tore off the paper around the straw without looking at you.

“ I never hated you. Was I a huge dick to you? Of course I was. Was it entertaining watching you air out your room after I left smoke bombs in it before your friends came over? Kinda yeah. But I never did it because I hated you. I would never do those things out of pure malice but...it’s hard for me to look back and imagine us hating each other when I’m head over heels for you now,” Peter sighed as he started playing with the wrappings of the straw.

It was hard to believe that after all this time Peter never hated you because there were countless times for you where you really hated him and planned to murder him in his sleep without a second thought.

“ I’m not going to lie, I hated you. Some days, you made me feel so shitty about myself that I would cry underneath my covers so no one could hear,” You revealed to him as Peter felt a wave of sadness wash over him,” After a while, I wasn’t even sad anymore I was just so exhausted. I felt like I always had to be on my toes around you just in case you would pull something on me and to make sure you would never make me cry again, I knew I would always have to have the upper hand.”

You watched Peter almost sulk back into his seat, his mind swarming with memories of how awful he really was to you,” Y/N, I am so sorry I ever treated you like that. I never knew I made you cry. I know I’m sick with the powder but even if I wasn’t, I would still feel as miserable as I do right now...I’m a monster aren’t I?”

You wanted to be as honest as possible with Peter but in the state that he was in at the moment, you weren’t sure if he was in the right mental headspace to hear any harsh criticism.

“ We were both monsters...but now we’re different. This is the first time in years where I’ve actually enjoyed your company and while I’m not ready to start picking out baby names or whatever you’re trying to do with me, I like what we have. I just hope that when you get cured, things don’t have to change, you know?” You said as you reached across the table and opened up your hand.

You never knew how important starting over was until now and you knew that no matter what, Peter would always be in your life. The only question was what he really meant to you but at this moment, you didn’t have an answer and it was okay.

Peter looked down at it and hesitantly held it, his fingers caressing over your knuckles lightly as he inhaled deeply,” As long as you’re in my life, things don’t have to change.”

You squeezed his hand as you leaned in to take another sip. When you pulled away, you leaned back into your seat as you playfully sighed,” You know, I can’t decide if I’m weirded out or flattered by your comments lately but at the same time, I kinda wanna just open the flood gates and see what kind of crazy stuff you say so I can blackmail you later on.”

Peter only shook his head as his face started to grow flushed,” Y/N, please,  if I could control my mouth, I would. Once I start talking, every single thought in my mind surges with your face and how I feel like how fucking amazing you look in your uniform-”

“ Nope, nuh-uh, we can stop it right there pervert.”

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[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

all my focus on you

summary: all of your focus is on Jake, and yet you can’t see that he loves you.

warnings: mentions of injury

word count: 3.2k

note from the writer: this is the first thing I've posted in months and I really like how it turned out. let me know what you think! also I didn’t edit it so sorry ahead of time.

“Who’s Tuna?”

You had heard the nickname tossed around a lot. At least, you were pretty sure it was a nickname. You were new to the world of hockey, having only really paid attention to the sport in the past few months as a result of your roommate, Jess, dating professional player Brock Boeser. Through him, you had met Elias, Quinn, Thatcher, Troy, and a whole assortment of others. But, Tuna still remained a mystery to you. Apparently, he was going to be joining your group out to the bar that night.

“You’ll like him.” Brock declared, giving you the same response he always did whenever you asked, while Elias’ smile turned the special kind of mischievous that only he could ever pull off. You didn’t have the chance to question how he could have been so certain, because Jess called your name and insisted that you start getting ready to go.

You’d never, not once in a million years, admit it that Brock was right.

You did like ‘Tuna’. A lot more than you probably should have. He was fun and outgoing from the moment Brock introduced you to him at the bar. Your heart stopped in your chest when you realized that Tuna was Jake Virtanen, your secret hockey crush. When Jess started seeing Brock, she showed you the entire Canucks roster. Jake’s piercing blue eyes struck out to you from the moment you saw his picture, but other than a ‘oh he’s cute’ and a mental note of his name and number, you kept quiet.

Now, he was standing before you, handing extended for you to shake with a dazzling smile that nearly made you forget your own name.

“I’m Jake.” He said brightly, and you offered your own smile in return as you slipped your hand into his meekly. Your face warmed at his touch, and if you possessed the ability to look away from Jake, you would have seen the shit-eating grin Brock wore. But you couldn’t, and instead you saw the way Jake’s gaze stayed on you, his own cheeks turning red. “What’re you drinking? I’m buying tonight.”

And thus, an amazing friendship grew. Which, for whatever reason, Brock seemed to loathe.

He was insistent that there was something more between you and Jake, which you vehemently denied, and each time your cheeks would burn brightly. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want anything more with Jake, in the few months that you had gotten to know him, he had become one of your closest friends and the person you told everything too.

And your secret hockey crush turned into full blown feelings. Most of your time was spent with him, even if you felt nothing but butterflies in your stomach whenever he was near. Only a few short months after meeting him, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. He was a constant presence in your life, as sure as you were that the sun would rise, you knew that Jake would be there for you.

With a schedule as crazy as a professional athlete’s, you jumped on any opportunity to spend time with Jake and any of the guys on the team, who all quickly became good friends of yours, along with their partners. Currently, you were at a diner, getting a quick lunch with Jake, Petey, and Brock, the two blondes sharing a side of the booth opposite of you.

Jake was in the middle of animatedly telling a story, and you watched with your undivided attention. Well, nearly undivided, since he had swung an arm around your shoulders shortly after sitting down and the simple contact had your heart beating like crazy. Petey had sent you no less than three shit-eating grins, and Brock was openly chuckling at how flustered you were. You were just thankful Jake was as oblivious as he was.

“You’re coming to the game tonight, right?” Jake asked, jostling you with the arm that was around his shouler to get your attention as soon as he finished his story. You nodded, taking a sip of your drink to cover up the fact that you had been openly staring at him as he spoke. “Perfect. Alright, I’ve got to run. I’m supposed to meet with my nutritionist.”

There was a chorus of ‘goodbyes’ as he tossed some cash on the table, enough to cover both his bill and yours, since he always insisted on paying for you. Before he could slide out of the booth, though, he pressed a quick kiss to your temple, an innocent act that had your heart doing cartwheels. You avoided Petey and Brock’s gazes, trying to will the heat in your cheeks away. It was only when the bell chimed on the door signalling that Jake had left, did someone speak up.

“Oh, come on!” Brock groaned, and you shot him a curious look. He ignored you, turning to face Elias, who was grinning in amusement. “I’m just going to tell her. It’s painful at this point.”

“Tell me what?” You question, nerves seeping into you, watching Elias shrug and grin wider. Instantly, your mind thought about the worst, like someone was getting traded or something similar, but nothing could have prepared you for what Brock said next.

“Jake is in love with you.”

“What? No, he’s not.” You spluttered, eyes wide and cheeks warm. Brock rolled his eyes at you, a scoff leaving his lips as if he thought his teammate’s apparent affection was obvious.

“He talks about you all the time.” Petey offered, and you fell silent. Elias wasn’t one to mess around with something like that. Sure, he made sly comments that had you laughing everytime, but this was different.

“He thinks you could never like him back, so we have to listen to him complain about it.” Brock’s tone was serious, but you could hear the subtle chirp. You pursed your lips, dropping your focus onto your plate to avoid meeting either of their gazes.

“You guys are ridiculous.” You settled on saying, though just because you dropped the conversation, it didn’t mean that you stopped thinking about it.

Even hours later as you were walking through the doors of the arena, you were still thinking about it. Though, you were quickly distracted as Jess led you through the crowd to find your seats and watch warm-ups.

Despite your inner turmoil, the Virtanen jersey felt right on your shoulders, now a regular part of your wardrobe. When Jake had found out that you had no idea about hockey, he had bought you the number eighteen Canucks sweater, along with tickets to just about every home game, claiming you were his good luck charm. When he gave you his jersey, he stated that it was to make your hockey experience complete—thought now you weren’t so sure.

Brock’s words from earlier in the day were still bouncing in your head. You had a hard time believing they were true, but then you thought over nearly every interaction you had with Jake. They all had a common theme—Jake was always looking at you with a softness to his eyes that you had, at the time, chaked up to his friendliness. Now, thinking back, you recognized the look. It was the same look you gave him.

A look of utter adoration and total love.

You settled into your seat to watch the game with a wide smile on your face, borderline giddy with the conclusion you had come to. You decided that after the game, when you would be going back to Jake’s for a movie night and a sleepover, a tradition that had been established after celebrating a win too hard one night and you spent the night at his place, and at the following brunch it was decided his guest room would be yours after any home games. Though, if you played your cards right, you wouldn’t be sleeping in the guest room.

Your happiness only lasted until halfway through the first period, and quickly dread formed in the pit of your stomach. The game was back and forth, neither team able to keep possession of the puck for very long. Petey scored first, and you cheered loudly, but clamped your mouth shut when a player on the opposite team—you couldn’t see a name on his jersey, and even so, you didn’t pay attention to any hockey team outside of Vancouver—started shoving Jake. Of course, Jake was running his mouth and shoving back, and it was only when a ref skated between the two players did you let out a breath of relief you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Apparently, Jake pissed off the other team a lot more than you originally thought.

You would have sworn he was being targeted. Everytime he was on the ice, it seemed, that an opposing player would check him into the boards. He wad getting hit hard from all angles, he got tripped twice but only drew a penalty on one—and if you screamed bullshit! at the ref, then who would have blamed you—and got into a fight late in the second after an opposing player shoved into Thatcher.

It was the third period when things really went awry.

It was the final minutes of the period, Vancouver up by one, thanks to Bo’s goal at the end of the second. The Canucks were fighting to hold on, maybe score an extra point to cement their victory, while the other team was getting desperate. And they were playing dirty, too.

You didn’t really register the gasp that fell from your lips as some unknown opponent slammed Jake into the boards, head on, with clear intent to injure him. You did remember jumping to your feet, as if that would make everything better.

Jess, who you hadn’t really acknowledged was sitting next to you in your stress, gripped your arm tightly. You watched in horror as Jake stayed down, hands holding his head as the athletic trainer jogged across the ice with the assistance of Troy Stetcher. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Jake, but if you could, you would have seen Brock looking worriedly from his injured teammate to where he knew you were in the stands.

It felt like years later when Jake finally stood, and while leaning heavily on his trainer and Troy, he went down the tunnel. You sat down stifly into your seat, leg bouncing in nerves and fingers tapping an unknown pattern as you anxiously waited for the game to be over so you could check on Jake.

Five minute major, game misconduct.

Good, you thought, but you kept your mouth clamped shut as nausea swirl in your stomach. Distantly, you heard Jess say that the opposing player was most likely going to get fined for his actions. You knew hockey was a hard hitting sport, but that was terrible. You had seen Jake hurt before, blocked shots, highsticks, and the sorts—but not once had it taken him that long to get back up.

You couldn’t focus on the rest of the game, you were pretty sure that at some point Quinn had scored, but eventually Jess was leading you down to the tunnel where had to meet the other players. Holly, Bo’s wife, had tried to assure you that Jake would be fine the moment she saw you.

“He’s got a thick skull.” She tried to lighten the mood, but all you could muster was a weak smile and a laugh that sounded forced and foriegn to even your own ears. You listened to the other wives and girlfriends of players chatter about who knows what—certainly not you, you were staring at the door you knew the boys emerged from—for minutes. The girls knew you, how you were always around Jake, acting like a couple but not once taking that extra step, so they knew how stressed you were, waiting for the verdict.

Elias was the first one to exit the room, heading straight to you with a tiny, reassuring, smile on his face. Your arms were crossed tightly across your body, an indicator of just how uncomfortable you were in the moment.

“He’s fine. He’ll be out in a few minutes.” He told you quietly. Though it helped calmed you slightly, you couldn’t get the imagine of him laying on the ice out of your head. You nodded your head in thanks, before he patted your shoulder comfortingly and departed. Quinn was next out, shooting you a pitiful smile. Tanev, Toffoli, and Edler all came out before finally, the brunette you had been waiting for emerged with Brock at his side.

He looked terrible, his tie was loose around his neck, hair a mess from the quick post-game shower he had just taken. His shoulders were slumped, and he looked so tired that your heart clenched in your chest.

“How are you?�� You asked quietly once he stopped before you. Jess and Brock left to give you some privacy, but you didn’t notice in the slightest. Your focus was on Jake—like it always was.

“A little beat up, nothing I can’t handle.” He waved off his injured like it was nothing. You pouted for a moment, knowing he was playing down the severity of it. He seemed to sense your disbelief, because he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. You sank into the embrace, reciprocating the hug with a deep sigh.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again.” You threatened into the fabric of his suit, wrapping your arms tiger around his middle. He chuckled lowly, holding you just as tight in return. Your heart was thundering in your chest, your stomach a lightning storm of nerves.

“I’ll try not to.” He assured you quietly, dropping a kiss to top of your head. You thought back to your decision before the game, how you were going to confront both his feelings and yours, and decided that it could wait just a little bit longer.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” You mumbled, pulling away sightly. He nodded and you, and you were pleasantly surprised as he slipped his hand into yours, threading your fingers together, as you headed in the direction of his car.

You insisted on driving, and Jake only protested slightly. The ride was quiet, and you could tell something was bothering him, but chose to stay quiet and let him come to you when he was ready. Or at least until you got back to his home. Instead, you listened to his music play softly from the car as you weaved through the streets of Vancouver, taking the familiar path to Jake’s place.

When you finally arrived, he slipped into his bedroom to change into something more comfortable, and you made yourself comfortable on his couch. When he returned, he was in a Canucks hoodie and pair of grey sweats, and instead of sitting next to you on the couch, he laid across it so his head was in your lap. Instantly, your hand threaded though his hair and you scratched at his scalp, something you knew he loved. His eyes fluttered shut at the action, and he hummed contentedly.

“You scared me tonight.” You said softly after a moment. You tried to will away the tears that welled up in your eyes, remembering how it felt to see him laying on the ice, injured. It tore you in two, you had never felt more sick to your stomach at a sight than you did when he was down.

“I know.” He sighed queitly in response. Not trusting yourself to keep your voice steady, you chose not to respond right away. He reached a hand up, grabbing yours out of his hair and pressing a kiss to your palm, before threading your fingers through his and resting it on his chest.

And then, you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling past your lips—

“I love you too much to see you get hurt like that.” You hated how your voice cracked, and most of all you hated how you confessed your feelings. You wanted to do so during a happy moment, one shared with smiles and he’d tell you he felt the same, but no, you were holding back tears on his couch as he tensed, your words registering.

“What?” He questioned, sitting up abruptly. You would have thought that you had screwed everything up, if it weren’t for the near-death grip he had on your hand. Still, you couldn’t meet his gaze, and instead focused on the coffee table. Gently, with his free hand, he cupped your jaw, turning so you were facing him. It was then that you realized that you were crying, silent tear tracks running down your cheeks that he brushed away carefully as he studied your face intently. “What did you just say?”

“I love you.” You choked out, voice tight. “And I’m new to the hockey thing, so I’m not used to seeing hits like that and I—”

Your ramblings were cut short as Jake surged forward, connecting your lips to his. It took you a moment to react, but your free hand eventually moved to the back of his neck, your other still gripped in yours. The kiss wasn’t heated, but loaded with so much passion and emotion it made your head swirl. Months of casual flirting and innocent touches built to this moment, and you would be lying if you said you were aware of how long you actually were pressed against him.

Eventually, he did pull back, a wide and dopey grin on his face. You smiled just as brightly, the hand on the back of his neck toying slightly with the strands of hair there. Chasing your lips for a few quick pecks that your readily complied with.

“I love you, too.” He hummed, seemingly unable to tear his focus from you. You didn’t mind, not one bit, considering he had you attention from the moment you had met.

“I know.” You grinned, watching as his brows pull together in confusion, a silent question and urge for you to elaborate. With a giggle, you explained. “Brock told me.”

“Of course he did.” Jake groaned, tipping his head back. You chuckled at his dramatics, looking at him with the same fond look you always did. Only this time, you didn’t have to worry about him finding out. Your hand moved from behind his head to his jaw, thumb brushing across his cheekbone. You smiled as he brought his attenton back to you, and you leaned forward to press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. “You know, he’s been trying to set me up with you this entire time.”

“Yeah, he told me that I’d like you the night we met. He and Petey were planning this.” You explained, watching as he lifted your joined hands and kissed the back of yours, a barking laugh leaving him as you finished your sentence.

“Was he right?” He asked cheekily, swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest so he could cuddle you. You admired him with a soft smile, watching as he grabbed the remote on the couch beside him to put on a movie. Never in a millions years would you admit that Brock was right, but you with the way Jake was smiling, you decided to make an acception.

“Definitely.”

[littlemisslipbalm]

Little Border Town Pt. II

Summary: Harry starts to find himself more and more drawn to the bookshop owner. She’s maybe not as annoying as he first thought. And maybe Harry isn’t the worst like she thought either. A little notebook, drinks, shoes, and a boat begin to show each other that. 

AKA: Harry and Y/N are neighbors that fight all the time, the whole town wants to know when they’ll just fuck. 

ello loves,  part 2 is finally here pls let me know what you think!! barely proofread sorry... also i think theres gonna be quite a few parts to this because i keep not getting all i want to say said in each part. and im trying to keep the chunks relatively short. — also I made one direction lowkey exist bahaha

Word Count: 9.2k | Warnings: flirty fighting/banter, slowburn 

Part 1

-

The next day Harry found himself walking into the bookshop next door without really thinking about it. He hadn’t seen Y/N again for his early morning run and he had his list for her of the Paul Simon albums he already had. They hadn’t had their windows or shades open last night either so it was the first night he didn’t give her a salute and she didn’t flip him off. The jostle in routine seemed a little weird to him so as he walked through the shop's door and the bell sounded, he thought the smile on his face was because he was well rested and unbothered by anything.

Y/N had slept in this morning. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the beginning of Fall always put her in a cozy sleepy mood. She wanted to go to a pumpkin patch and watch a fire burn out in a fireplace. She wanted to listen to her halloween playlist and plan out an intricate costume with her friends. All of this was a wistful dream though. She had quickly learned that the little border town didn’t celebrate Halloween how they did in the States or any major cities. It was okay, at the end of the day, even if she was a little bummed about it. This was her new life and she would have to adapt to the new customs.

After she walked downstairs and unlocked the door, she went back over to her front counter. Yesterday, right when Harry had come in, she had found a booklet of Marie’s. It was leafed over to the point that all the pages were crinkled and dirtied from hand debris. Each page was filled with her loopy handwriting, all of it in French. She must have only liked blue pens because even if the type changed over different pages, the color was always blue. Each page was headed with a name, a customer’s name Y/N was starting to realize as she leafed through the pages. She sat back on the wooden stool she had gotten for behind the counter and propped the book in her hand. After the name of the customer there were extensive details on them. Not their purchases specifically, but their preferences, their personality, and just tidbits about any quirks they had or interesting things Marie had decided were of note.

She found many names that were now familiar to her after her few months of living in the little border town. There really weren't that many people to get to know and the tourists were starting to die down now that the school year was getting back in. After a few minutes of pouring over Monsieur Friedfrickson’s page, who lives across the street from her and runs the flower and gardening supplies shop, she flips to an even more familiar name’s page.

“Harry Styles.” The page had the name written out in strong tall letters. Marie had used a blue inky pen for his page, not a ballpoint. “Likes Music. Poetry. Love stories. Romance with a happy ending, but also likes the practical love too.” The interests are laid out plain and she purses her lips at the idea that Harry is interested in romance novels. She wondered what type of poetry he liked since Marie didn’t seem to think that had to be elaborated on. “He’s a special one,” it reads and Y/N scoffs to herself, really Marie? She reads on, “His heart is in the right place, but he’s got a mouth on him. Quick-witted and charming, but kind-hearted and sincere.” She pauses, and flicks the page back and forth, checking that it still reads Harry’s name when she gets back to it. Was she really the only one who found Harry vapid and annoying? Sure she had softened a little towards him since she had arrived, but they were by no means friends. “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually-” it reads and she mutters to herself, “Ok, now we’re getting somewhere.” “While seemingly perfect in every way, Harry is actually scared of his own shadow.” “This can’t be real!” She once again scoffs at the book and looks up to the ceiling like Marie is going to talk back to her from beyond. “His exterior persona is very strong, both physically and in his personality, but it seems like he’s just waiting for that right person that he can really be vulnerable with and let them into what he’s really thinking. He’s looking for his Angie.” Now she’s just confused. Who the fuck is Angie? She almost doesn’t finish reading the page because honestly it’s just making her mad, but there’s only a few more lines. “Lots of tattoos, why so many tattoos? Thinks he’s funnier than he is. Flamboyant Harry is best.” And beside that last sentence is a star. She tries to hold in her laughter. At least it wasn’t a complete page of praise for Harry.

Thinking back to her knowledge of Harry, she realizes that Marie must have known him for about three years. Maybe more if he had come to visit before moving there officially. She agreed with Marie that Harry had a lot of tattoos and that he thinks he’s funnier than he truly is, but she was yet to see flamboyant Harry. She knew he painted his nails and wore rings, as well as interesting clothes, but she wouldn’t say he was particularly flamboyant for any of that. That comment definitely piqued her interest. When would Marie have seen Harry where he was being flamboyant?

Her eyes scan over the page once more and realize that this book is only for the most current year. Marie re-did the customers' outlines every year. So this was this past year before Marie died. She wondered where the other books might be and if Harry’s outline had changed over time and also if her name was in the one from when she had visited. That would be interesting to read. It’s strange to read a dead person’s private musings. To her knowledge, no one else alive knew the contents of these pages and these pages seemed especially personal since they spoke of people’s lives and who they were at their core. Maybe that’s why she didn’t hear the chime of the door this morning when the first customer arrived.

Her eyes don’t shoot up from the page until two ringed hands enter her eye line on the counter. The tanned skin, with the gold and silver dazzling rings on each finger and the cross tattoo all register in her mind as her eyes go wide. She snaps the book shut when her eyes meet Harry’s almost ivy green eyes - they’re darker in the foggy fall light streaming through the window today. She hadn’t even turned on the lights yet in the store, the natural light being enough for her this morning. The book is clutched in her hands as Harry’s smile widens to a grin of amusement.

“What have you got there?”

There’s no cover on the book so he can’t make anything out about it. He assumes it’s some novel she’s embarrassed of and has chosen to slip the cover off of to keep anonymity of it. This assumption is why his tone is so teasing and why she grimaces at him in response. Her cheeks have also tinted themselves, she’s flustered that the man she had just been conversing about with the book was now in the store.

“None of your business.”

“I guess not.” He replies easily when she responds curtly and places the book out of sight somewhere under the countertop.

“Why are you here again?” She’s avoiding his eye contact now, feeling like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been even though it was perfectly within her right to read something that now belonged to her.

Harry’s smile falters with her followed curt reply. Annoyance settling in, Harry straightens up and removes his hands from the counter. The familiar feeling doesn’t exactly feel nice, but familiarity is better than discomfort. “You wanted a list of my Paul Simon records? So you could order me one I didn’t already have?”

She looks at him curiously as the conversation comes back to her from yesterday morning and she nods. That conversation was real. “Oh yeah, I said that.” She replies, still not looking at him. “Okay,” she says when he doesn’t move or do anything. Her eyes widen, silently asking him to get on with it.

His hands shove into his pockets, searching around for a list he apparently had made. They come out empty. He pats over his jacket pockets and feels nothing but his phone and wallet, no list. “Fuck,” he mutters beneath his breath. She scratches at her eyebrow and sits back on her stool, seeming like she might be waiting awhile. After a few more minutes and no produced list, she sighs. “Do you just want to go next door and grab it since you obviously forgot it?”

“I didn’t forget it…” His voice is low and he shoots a glare at her, the annoyance that had come back had now doubled.

“You did, but it’s okay if you can’t admit that-”

“It must have fallen out of my pocket!” He insists.

She rolls her eyes and stands up. Walking to the front door, she looks on the ground and then a little ways outside. “I don’t see it, just go back and get it. You probably left it in your boudoir, it’s fine.” Her tone is a little less condescending now and more understanding. She forgets stuff all the time and she really wasn’t trying to be rude when he first came in. He had just startled her is all.

He turns around to face her. Her body is now completely out in the open area of the front of the store. His head tilts and one of his loose curls flops over his forehead while he takes in her appearance. “Why do you do that?”

She wets her lips and steps closer to him, more on her way back to the counter than anything. “Do what?” She’s oblivious to what he’s taken note of.

“When you have a conversation in English you’ll swap in some words that are French. They’re easy words to figure out and you don’t do it a lot, but you’ve done it enough times for me to notice.”

“Oh...I don’t know. I prefer French to English. It’s so much sexier.” She walks closer to him and utters her next sentence as she brushes past his shoulder. His gaze follows her every movement. “Would you prefer a girl to whisper in your ear, “let’s go back to my bedroom” or “let’s go back to my boudoir.”?” Her French accent hangs in the air with the word and compared to the hard American accent she had employed for ‘bedroom’, ‘boudoir’ sounds far more dirty this time than before.

A shiver rolls down Harry’s spine, but he doesn’t let it show. She shrugs her shoulders, “I think the answer is clear.” He clears his throat in response and a smile grows on her face. “Don’t you agree, monsieur?” She leans her head into her hand now that she’s behind the counter and looks up at him sweetly. He knows she’s teasing him now, her smile more of a sultry smirk.

“Piccola diavola,” his Italian rolls off his tongue and she squints at his words. She knows “devil” but the first word troubles her - it just means little. Her Italian really wasn’t strong and it hadn’t improved that much since she’d been in the little border town. But she also wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking what he had said. Harry chuckles at her confusion and relaxes now that he feels the playing field has leveled once again.

“So your list… Do you want to go grab it? Or if you can just list it off the top of your head? As enthralling as your conversation skills are, I actually don’t have all day.” She trails off again, her questions lilting from her mouth after regaining some composure.

“I wasn’t the one teasing about taking someone up to their bedroom,” he huffs. Her face colors with crimson. While she had been teasing him, she didn’t want to be called out for it.

“Wasn’t teasing…”

“So it was a serious offer?” He inquires with a lop-sided grin, changing the meaning behind her words in one fellow swoop.

“That’s not what I was saying! Shut up and give me your list.” Now her blush was all over her face and neck, and she was totally and completely flustered by Harry.  She glanced down at her hands that were fiddling with a pen and paper, ready to write his words down.

“I can either shut up or tell you my list. But it’s sadly one or the other, love.”

She groans and takes her free hand to run it over her face. “Just tell me what you already have, Harry. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles and spreads out his hands in front of them both. He crosses back to the counter and leans on it once more. They are in close proximity once again, only the counter between them now and she can feel his hot breath fan over her softly. Smells of wintergreen gum, her favorite.

She glances up at him and their eyes hook together for a moment before she tears hers away to look back at the paper. He rattles off a good amount of Paul Simon’s albums and she nods approvingly as she scribbles the names down. She would have to look through his discography to find the ones Harry didn’t have and she probably could’ve made Harry do that and then give her that list, but she didn’t. It was too late now to do that as well, so she’d just have to live with her decision.

When he finishes, she glances at him once again. His eyes are very large. A detail that isn’t really important about him is seared in her mind. They’re big and they’re staring right at her. His pupils are almost as big as his irises, it was interesting. Her eyes shift under his gaze after a beat and she straightens up again. While they went over his list, she had indulged in the close proximity, the mingling of warm breath and brushed hands as she scribbled and he pondered. She nods a farewell, “I’ll let you know when I order next, but I won’t say what album you’ll get. It will be a surprise.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” his smile snaps back to his face and he scratches absentmindedly at his side. He hesitates before exiting the store. “I have a question.”

“Don’t need my permission.”

He emits a half-laugh, half-scoff from his parted lips. “Wasn’t asking for it...How come you never go out?”

She stares at him curiously, her head tilting to the right. “How would you know I don’t get out?” She challenges him.

“There’s only one pub in this little town and I’m your next door neighbor. I know.” He’s insistent on being right.

She scoffs, but only in an attempt to cover up her embarrassment. Her skin had finally cooled from all the excitement that had happened earlier and she wasn’t in the mood to grow red once again. Today was the first day she had ever felt flustered by Harry. It was annoying, it made her feel out of control. She liked to go out well enough, maybe more than the average person. But she’d only been in the little border town for a few months and going out hadn’t been on the top of her list of things to do. Sure, it would be nice to go get a drink out in the town, but she didn’t really have anyone to go with. Meeting people wasn’t hard in the town, but there weren't many people who were her age and she hadn’t particularly clicked with anyone where she would want to go out on the town with them. It was embarrassing to face the fact that she wasn’t flourishing as much as she had hoped. She was happy, but being confronted with the truth that she hadn’t gone out yet dampened her belief in her success in the little border town.

“I - It’s not at the top of my list of priorities,” she stutters, her chin raising a little in indignance.

One of his shoulders shrugs and Harry makes a little face as if he was indifferent to her answer, even though she knew much better than that. Harry always wanted to get a reaction out of her, maybe that was all he gained from their interactions - entertainment. She didn’t know, but she didn’t feel like giving him the satisfaction and left it at that. His eyes meet hers again, his stare far more intense now. “Ciao, diavola.” He simpers, repeating the little nickname. It was far more sultry of a nickname than ‘Shrimp’ but she wasn’t going to complain. She rolls her eyes in response, the only correct one at that.

-

That night, she found herself feeling pulled to journey down to the pub. It was on the Italian side and like she had acknowledged to Harry, she hadn’t been. She wouldn’t admit to anyone, especially not Harry, that his question had been what had pushed her towards the establishment when night fell. Yet, here she was. Her pants were dark red silk that matched the black tank top with red embellishments that she wore over her chest - the only part of her it really covered. Her boots were a matching black with gold metal bits, they were knock-off horsebit Gucci shoes, the closest she could get to the real thing with her modest budget. She was having to be more frugal lately, after buying her car here in September, she had really seen how little money she truly had.

The heels of her boots clicked against the cobblestones as she stalked up to the front of the bar. There was happy chatter seeping out the open door, the warm but dimmed light also flooding out along with the sounds of people within. Taking a deep breath and fiddling with the waistband of her pants for a second, she made her way into the bar. Stepping off the deep end and making the plunge. She knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but after months of not going there, she felt a little sense of apprehension now.

The warmth was the most surprising bit of the bar that she felt when she stepped past the threshold. Some Italian song was buzzing below the words of the patrons and she smiled at the automatic welcome she felt upon entering.

At the tables, there was a mix of younger and older patrons. At the bar, there wasn’t much of anyone. The young bartender leans across the bar to talk to another man, who had dark brown wavy hair and a dark linen shirt on. He’s seated at the bar and his back is to her so she can’t make out anymore than that. She doesn’t notice the myriad of tattoos gracing the patron’s arm that rests casually on the bar as he laughs at something the bartender had said, just for him.

She smiles, thinking it’s a cute little flirtation between the two and hates that she has to go over to break it up. Her movement gets the bartender’s attention easily and has the patron glancing her way as well. The smile she had once had falters off of her face and her eyes go wide at the realization of who she has settled herself beside. She had left a seat open between her and the man, but now she wished she had chosen a spot across the bar and simply flagged down the bartender. Better yet, she wished she had stayed home. As her smile falls away, Harry’s only grows wider. He’s grinning down at her as he moves his whole body to face her.

“Ciao!” The bartender starters, not noticing her discomfort at seeing Harry. He begins to ask what she would like in Italian, but her eyes widen even further. He’s speaking far too fast for her and she blushed in embarrassment. In her fluster, she forgets to even try French and she just stares dumbfoundedly at the handsome man behind the bar, who’s now looking at her with great curiosity. Harry has watched the entire thing and chuckles behind his glass. She has no attention span left to allow her to even try and guess what he’s drinking.

He interjects for her, actually saving her any more embarrassment, surprisingly. “She doesn’t speak Italian. She’s from the French side and new in town, so she hasn’t been able to refine her Italian.” The bartender gives a smile and nod of understanding in her way and she wishes she knew what Harry had just said. Whatever it is makes the bartender switch to French for her and her jaw goes from being dropped back into a normal position.

“What can I get for you, mademoiselle?” He transitions smoothly and she smiles, his French accent sounding practically perfect. She’s recomposed herself, but Harry is still watching her intently, like a reality television show that he can’t wait for the trainwreck finale to occur on.

After she orders, the bartender gives her a wink and then walks off to get what he needs to begin preparing her drink. Harry slides over, eliminating the courteous one seat between them. Her eyes watch the movement and she refrains from the letting out the sigh festering in her chest. She really had hoped he would not be here tonight, at least that’s what she believed. She truly felt embarrassed that the night after Harry had accused her of never going out, he had seen her out. But it also was nice not to be sitting in the bar alone. It seemed that Harry had been sitting alone at the bar before she had come in,  but she also wasn’t Harry and didn’t know how much enjoyment she would have  gotten out of being alone.

“I see my words had some effect on you.” He says out of the corner of his mouth after running his tongue over the bottom of his lip. Her scoff once again dies in her throat because she knows he’s right and he knows it too. There is no being proud right now. He essentially caught her red handed.

“Thought I’d come out and see what all the fuss was about. I see you’re alone tonight, but I assume that’s how most nights go.”

“You should know by now that is simply not true.”

“Just because you leave with someone doesn’t mean you come with someone.”

“I guess…” He trails off.

She picks up when he doesn’t seem to have any more of a response. “How do you even meet people here? Isn’t it all locals?”

“Not always. Not all of the people here are locals tonight,” He scans the crowd. “She’s visiting...So is she...that whole group actually. Look French. So we’ve got a group from Nice tonight…” He looks a bit more. “Eh, that looks like it tonight, but still. It’s plenty.” He finishes with a smirk and she grimaces, understanding the meaning behind his words.

The bartender returns with her White Russian, which Harry had cocked his head at, but had kept his opinion to himself for once. Expecting Roman to return to their conversation, Harry turns his attention back to him, but he is only greeted with the side of his head because Roman is still staring at Y/N. He coos something to her in French, that Harry can’t pick up and his nostrils flare when she emits a giggle following their exchange. The two people he was last talking to were now ignoring him to talk to each other. How rude.

After another moment without their attention, he huffs loudly. Roman seems too entranced in Y/N to notice, but her eyes slide over to him. “Yes?” She inquires, albeit disdainfully.

Harry isn’t sure what to say to her now that he’s gained her attention. He was on his second drink and her stare has made his mind go blank. All he had wanted was for her to stop flirting with Roman so that she’d pay attention to him. But he hadn’t thought of his next step yet. He takes a sip of his beer to grant him a little more time and she rolls her eyes at his action. His mind rattles through possible things to say, but every single one is coming up as not good enough.

“I used to be in a band.”

Her head tilts and she swivels more to Harry. His comment is unexpected and rather intriguing. She had expected something annoying or rude. Truly she had just expected him to say “Nothing” once he had swallowed his drink so he could distract her from enjoying her night.

“You were in a band?” She asks incredulously, her voice pitching slightly higher than normal. While Harry was many things, including handsome, she just didn’t think he had the right persona to be in a band. He dressed like a grandfather most days and he tended to a little shoe shop, he didn’t come off as a guy who would enjoy traveling around performing. The constant praise would be on brand though, she conceded.

Harry nods and bites back his smile, knowing he had struck the perfect chord. “I was...it only took off in the UK but we were pretty popular.” He boasts.

“So what do you play?”

Harry’s eyes widen, expecting more of a question about the name of the band or something. “Well, it was, like, a boy band…” He says.

She was taking a sip of her drink and she contained her little laugh behind her glass. Another hum as she swallows the liquid that burns her throat a bit. “Oh. Interesting. So no instruments.”

“Well I can play a bit of guitar and piano!” He adds quickly, seeing her eyes shift away from him, like she thinks the conversation is over. “I was thinking of trying a solo thing, but then plans changed...”

“And now you’re here?”

He echoes her, affirming the question. “Now I’m here and I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t miss it then?”

“Didn’t say that. I miss it at times, but this is where my life took me and I’m happy to be here. Maybe happier than I ever was in the band.” His eyes stare at the liquid in his glass and he swirls it lightly, determined to study the way it moves as he ponders something quite personal to him. He never really talked about his past with anyone here. Saying he was in a band and retrospecting that time are two very different things to share with someone. She’s just watching him now, not trying to make a quip or bug him. His demeanor shows that’s not something he’s very interested in hearing right now.

She experimentally puts a finger on his knee when it seems that he’ll never raise his gaze from his glass. His eyes move down to the tiny pressure he feels and sees her painted nail poking in to him. His tongue darts across his lower lip as he raises his head to meet her eyes. He notices the sparkle in them, she finds amusement in the childish gesture and so does he.

“I do miss the stage though,” he admits, smiling more now. “Performing. It was like nothing else.” Instead of a sad state of mind, his look is far more wistful now and she actually feels the smile growing on her face.

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime, then.” She says resolutely after taking the last bit of her drink and then pushing the glass across the bar. Roman had wandered off, much to Harry’s pleasure, but now they both needed another round so she was looking for him.

Harry slides over a chair so that they’re sat side by side. He had originally done it to reach across her for a napkin, but then hadn’t retreated to his original seat after he was successful. They talk as they drink, but most of it seems to be flirtatious teasing even if neither of them recognize that fully. Harry just wanted her attention earlier and now he found that he wanted to keep talking to her all night. It was a Friday and usually he would be looking for someone to take home. The group of women at a table that he had observed were visitors would be a perfect place to start his quest, but that wasn’t on his mind. He liked watching the different shades of blush Y/N’s face kept turning as she drank more and how silly she was getting with each passing drink.

She was enjoying her time out, she had only gotten wine drunk in the confines of her little home since she’d been in the little border town. And that endeavour was all by herself. It was much more fun when you had someone to talk to, so joking around with Harry was a nice surprise. She no longer felt embarrassed about showing up after he had teased her for never going out earlier today. Now she felt empowered, like she could come to the bar whenever she pleased. He was nicer than she had realized. His hand was quick to encircle her back respectfully when she laughed a little too hard at a joke and began to tip off her stool. His smile was genuine and his eyes didn’t flit over her body more than once. His jokes were funnier than she had first thought or maybe that was just the alcohol clouding her mind, that one she wasn’t sure about. But, truthfully, Harry was exceeding expectations tonight and being a stand up human being for once, in her eyes.

A couple at the end of the bar, locals, watched on as the shoemaker and the bookkeeper threw back their heads in boisterous laughter and placed their hands on each other chastely. The older women smiled to themselves as Y/N smacked Harry’s bicep after an especially cheeky joke he told her. They were going to have a field day with this interaction once they told their friends tomorrow morning.

After drink three, she definitely felt drunk. Not completely out of it and can’t walk drunk, but I haven’t drank anything stronger than wine in months so three cocktails are kind of hitting me drunk. And because of that buzz that’s enclosed her mind and body, it makes perfect sense to her that Harry’s hand is resting casually on her knee as they talk. It also makes perfect sense to her to cross her legs, causing two things to happen. Harry’s hand shifts up further on her thigh and her boot is now dangling right next to Harry’s shin. The fabric of his cream linen trousers look especially soft and so the next logical move in her mind is to rub her foot against the fabric. She hooks around her foot easily and the patent leather of her shoe slips softly against the pant leg that flows over Harry’s calf.

He hums lowly at the feeling, but makes no other notion to acknowledge what she is doing. After the hum he gets back to the story he’s telling her about his boat. She had been extremely interested in the boat initially, but not she was transfixed on the feeling of the fabric slipping past her boot. When he shifts his leg, absentmindedly or not, she almost squeaks because this movement has Harry’s foot brushing around her ankle. The footsy was occurring without any acknowledgement of it besides small sounds the two had made in their chests. No knowing looks, just the presence of each other’s bodies against one another.

He had switched to a Manhattan after his second beer for some reason that she didn’t ask, but he was enjoying it nonetheless. When she slipped her foot against his calf, it had sent a spark of electricity from the point of contact up to his alcohol muddled head. It felt nice so he went with it.

Around midnight the two of them were practically in each other’s laps, nursing their fourth round. Brains a million miles away while their glassy eyes stared at each other. Harry’s arm nestled around her waist while hers played with the stir stick in his glass. Their heads inches away, closer than they’d ever been before.

Somehow they decided they should walk home about then. Maybe Harry had checked his phone and decided he was done. Maybe she had glanced at the clock above the bar and realized she needed to go to bed. Either way, they slammed down the last bits of their drinks and stumbled into the street. With only each other to hold them up, they had some trouble gaining their balance. They could walk just fine if they wanted to be serious, but Harry kept trying to step literally on her toes and she kept throwing all her weight into his side. Both of their actions would cause them to stumble one way or another along the empty streets. Their blurred minds thankfully didn’t get them lost, but the travel time back to their places was far greater than the travel time to the bar initially.

Finally arriving at the border of Italy and France, their shops and homes, she stared up at Harry under the glow of the streetlamp across the street. His hair looked more dark brown than his usual caramel chestnut in the light. His linen outfit billowed across his pectorals that were exposed. A tan golden color that he seemed to maintain from his frequent runs and trips on his boat. His jaw had a bit more stubble on it now, his morning shave no longer sleek on his skin. His mustache was still the most prominent bit of facial hair he had and she wondered what he might look like without it. She also thought if she’d ever kissed a man with a mustache, her mind was pretty sure she hadn’t.

As she stared, she moved from his side and took a step closer to her door. His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her and bringing her attention to his eyes. He dropped her hand and stepped closer to her. They had been laughing about some weird encounter she had in Nice the other week. But now their laughter had faded out, the conversation all but forgotten.

“Hi.” She says meekly.

“Hi,” Harry laughs.

“I had fun tonight,” she muses and takes a step forward. She began swinging her arms back and forth, rocking on her feet. She felt antsy now that it was so quiet. The silence made her realize it was really just her and Harry together right now. Which wasn’t unusual, they had been alone together plenty of times. Maybe it was the time of night, but it felt far more intimate to her this time which made her squirm a little. Why was she nervous with Harry right now?

Harry nods and laughs again at her actions. “Yeah, you’re not so bad.”

Neither of them realized the proximity of their bodies until her hand swung a little higher and hit Harry’s hip bone. “Oh! Sorry!” She moves to take a step back, but Harry grabs her hand once again and tugs her even closer. Bringing them chest to chest under the lamp light. Her eyes flicker between where their bodies touch and Harry’s face. He’s looking down at her sweetly, gently. She feels safe with the way he’s looking at her. The warmth radiating from him was a nice contrast to the dark cold of night. The open expanse of skin that lived between the two sides of his mostly unbuttoned shirt seemed to have the most heat coming off of it. He had a jade cross that hung between the two muscles and she almost reached out to play with it. If it hadn’t been so dark and she hadn’t been so inebriated she would have realized the color matched his eyes almost exactly.

He’s not quite sure what he’s doing, but for some reason it feels like he might kiss her. The mood that was set by their surroundings made it sound right. Romantic even. Her lips look precious too, plump and puckered, flushed from alcohol and the brisk night air. They look a little glossy too from the last time she had wet them. He wanted to feel them for himself. His head ducks to move his lips to touch hers.

Upon registering his movement, she moves her hand from his grasp and places it on his chest, causing him to take a small step back.

“I think...I think this should be goodnight, Harry.” She breathes out. She’s trying to clear her mind enough to have conviction in her decision.

After a little intake of air, less than a gasp, Harry agrees, running a hand through his hair, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Her hand slips from his warm chest, immediately curling in on itself to maintain the warmth his body had just provided. She watches her tendons in her hand ripple before looking back at Harry with heavy eyes. He doesn’t seem to want to make eye contact with her, but she’s determined to leave on a good note.

“Thank you, Harry.” He looks up from beneath his lashes at his name, like a shy toddler. “You gave me the push to face a fear of mine.” With her final words she crosses the little distance between them once again and places a chaste kiss to his cheek. Immediately, his cheek flushes and she can feel the heat beneath her lips, as well as the light prickle of his stubble. Harry swallows, causing his Adam's apple to bob quickly, at the contact. His senses get overloaded with the sweet kiss and the smell of her perfume. It all swims through his consciousness.

She smiles as she pulls away and then turns to let herself into her place without another word. Once unlocked, she gives one last glance to Harry who’s also busying himself with opening his door. She doesn’t see that his free hand is caressing over his cheek where her lips had just been.

-

The next day, she woke up and groaned feeling the stiffness in her body. Especially her head. Oh god, her head. It was like she was back in college, but worse because she wasn’t as young. At least she didn’t have to roll out of bed for an 8 am lecture. For that, she was thankful. Still, the pounding needed to stop or subside at least. Grumbling, she threw her legs off the side of her bed, the fuzzy socks she had slipped on in her drunken stupor settled on the hardwood. She dragged her body to her window and raised the shade. Her window was fogged from the difference in temperature outside and in her room. Kneeling down, she began to pull open the window, in need of the cool fresh air on her clammy skin. Three drinks, or was it four? She couldn’t remember, either way, it was too many.

Her eyes glanced around the view of the window. It wasn’t much since it was so close to the building right next door. Peaking up, she could see the already clouded sky. To the left she could see the street and to the right was more buildings. The scene most easily accessible was the window right across from her. The shade was mostly closed, a little bit of the floor could be seen where Harry hadn’t lowered it completely. It was just the same hardwood as what she sat on staring back at her. She sat there, breathing in the crisp morning air. After a night of drinking, she usually woke up rather early, today was no different.

It dawned on her, far too slowly, that a pair of feet had entered the plain hardwood scene she had been staring at outside her window. A tiny stage now filled with two matching characters. The pair of feet were tanned and large. Little tattoos seemed to be sprinkled both on the toes and the ankles of the feet. She couldn’t read them even if she tried. But upon realizing what these feet might be doing, she had been discouraged from staring any longer. Still, her brain was foggy and her body was not nearly quick enough to hide her from view as the owner of the feet did something to open his shade as well. Then, once again, like deja vu, she was staring at her naked neighbor. Thankfully, this time, he had briefs adorning his hips to keep covering the part of him that would keep her up for weeks trying to forget again. The briefs were, just that. Brief. Low on the hips and barely touching his thighs, it seemed they really only existed to keep that one appendage covered. Still, she had to tear her eyes away from the lower half of his body and let the embarrassment wash over her when she met his eyes.

The knowing smirk of his has him nibbling at the inside of his cheek. She had been checking him out. It was a nice confidence boost after last night. The awkwardness of her stopping him from kissing her had him spiraling in his mind when he went to bed. He didn’t know why he had even tried to kiss her in the first place, probably just because he was drunk. Yeah, he was drunk and feeling needy on a friday night. That’s what it was and she had been there.

He’d have to thank her today for putting a stop to that colossal mistake. They were barely just friends, he hated to think what would happen if he’d done something so reckless as to kiss her out of the blue. Still, he couldn’t shake the thought in the back of his mind that he had gotten the vibe from somewhere. Why else would his drunken mind tell him to kiss her under the glow of the lamp light. He thought back to the bar and what they had talked about. He wouldn’t categorize it as overly flirty. He thought back to their physical interactions at the bar, okay, maybe his hand on her thigh and her playing with his drink was a little flirtatious. But that could be boiled down to him being close to hear her in the bar and her idle fingers wanting something to do while she was drunk. The footsy, though. He wasn’t sure if he could explain that one away. Instead, he would choose to ignore it. If he didn’t think about it, did it actually happen? Was it something he had to worry about? Not in his mind.

Returning his focus to the girl in the window across from him, his smirk was now fully fleshed out on his face. She was still sitting on her knees as Harry looked down at her and if they were in the same room this might have seemed like a rather compromising position. Her cheeks were still red, noticing the difference in height, she clambered to her feet.

“G’morning,” Harry’s voice is groggy and deep. Scratchy almost from the alcohol he had drank last night. It rings through her ears lowly and seems to have her blushing even more. It’s a different feeling than how his voice used to make her feel.

“Hey,” She clears her throat before responding, not wanting her morning voice to crack in front of Harry. Usually she would talk to herself a bit or sing along to her music before going downstairs, not wanting her first customers to hear her as if she just woke up. For some reason, she makes a little wave along with her greeting, feeling especially awkward at this moment. Harry chuckles and repeats her motion. His large hands mimicking the same daunting motion makes her laugh and releases some of the nervous energy she had been holding in her body.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he openly flirts, placing one hand on his naked torso and the other against the frame of the window, leaning towards her. His movement flexes just about every muscle in his body and she keeps her eyes trained on his face, determined not to be caught gawking once more.

A roll of her eyes and she’s back to staring straight into his green ones that he’s still blinking awake. “It’s almost like we’re neighbors.”

He scrunches his nose at her deadpan. “You’re no fun,” he mutters.

She sighs, “I’m fucking hungover after last night…” and runs a hand through her tousled hair.

Her foot rests itself over her other, causing her hip to just out slightly. The movement of her body that accentuated her curves and her words have Harry blushing now. The red flowers at the center of his chest and begins to spread up his neck and cheeks. He’s once again presented with the almost kiss last night.

“Big night out for you,” he laughs, “I’ll admit I don’t usually drink that much, bit of a lightweight myself.”

She only hums in response, her fingers beginning to twiddle with the hem of her t-shirt. It reminds her of what she is precisely dressed in. The big t-shirt and tiny pajama shorts that Harry can’t even see are the only things on her body besides the socks on her feet. She glances down at her legs and takes in the expanse of fleshy skin that is showing just below the shirt. Harry’s eyes follow hers and admires the skin there, wondering what it would feel like underneath his big hands.

“I should probably start getting ready for the day,” She says finally, shaking herself from the random thoughts flitting around her mind about bare thighs and the man across from her. “Are you open today?”

Harry emits a noise from the back of his throat at her question. He draws his arm back from the window and stands up straight. His head tilts as he thinks about her question, his mind still muddled this morning.

“Er..no, actually. I was planning on going out on the boat today, switching my closed day to today instead of tomorrow. Why?”

“I’m in need of shoe repair,” she smiles, her eyes catching the glimmer of the sun starting to peak out. Harry swears it’s her eyes genuinely sparkling on their own accord. “But if you’re out today, it can wait.” She begins to walk away from the window to go to another room in her apartment.

“No!” Harry steps forward, but is restricted by the screen, which keeps him from falling out of his window. She swivels around, looking at him curiously. “I can - you can just come over. I’ll fix it up for you before I head out.”

“Really?” She’s truly surprised that Harry would do such a nice thing for her. She knew they were getting along better, but for him to open shop just for her repair seemed overly nice.

“I mean,” and Harry’s once again blushing under her gaze and he’s hoping she can’t see it. “What are neighbors for?”

“I guess,” she’s still unsure. He seems like he’s nervous, his body tenses and one of his hands twisted in his curls. Harry’s so weird. “Thanks.”

-

She jogs the short distance from her front door to Harry’s once she’s ready. The pair of deep teal almost navy loafers she needed new soles in - she was pretty sure - in hand. A red pinstripe blouse half buttoned falling over her figure perfectly, hugging the right spots and flowing over the others. She’s in white jeans today that are flared slightly but also cropped. As it gets closer to Halloween she keeps having to remind herself not to dress festive and it’s a struggle everyday.

When she reaches the door, it doesn’t open. The cream door doesn’t budge as she tempts the handle with her free hand. She looks between the handle and the inside of the shop. Her eyes search for Harry’s figure. She had been inside his shop only a handful of times, never for a repair before. Maybe less than a handful, once to check it out and once again when she thought she needed a new pair of shoes and then decided against it. Oh, and that one time she went over to yell at him about something. Maybe the planters, maybe the shade, she couldn’t remember anymore.

Now that she thought about it, she had been in the bookshop once more. Two and a half years ago when she had visited the little border town for the first time. It was a little fuzzy for a memory, but she was sure she had at least peaked into the shoe shop after her lengthy visit with Marie the second day there. It looked just as it did now, maybe it used to be a little more vibrant, but she couldn’t be sure. She remembered an older man in the shop greeting her in Italian and her offering her sad ‘Ciao’. Back then she was even worse at Italian. He had looked at her with kind eyes and a sweet smile. It was a similar lopsided grin that she had now grown accustomed to on another man’s face. After beckoning her over to him the old man had turned away from her and shouted into the back of the store in quick Italian. It blew over her head completely. There must have been someone in the back of the shop who he had talked to. She was sure of it, because after she had perused the cute boots and shoes he kept, she saw a swish of hair coming around the counter. It was just as she was turning around to exit the shop, after she had bid farewell to the man she now connected as Joe. Whoever it was had long hair and was tall, slinking out into the main shop floor. The mysterious stranger was whoever Joe had shouted to in the back.

Y/N wasn’t the quickest when it came to timelines and how people could change over time. She didn’t connect the year she had visited with the year of someone else's arrival or the same chestnut waves cascading around someone’s face, just now much shorter. It made perfect sense who would be in the back of the store, but for some reason the idea of time and hair length were standing in this girl’s way. Oh well, maybe Harry would spell it out to her someday.

Harry finally rounds the counter that separated the back room to the front. The shoe shop was set up a little different from the bookstore. Her counter was right when you came in while Harry’s was about halfway through the shop. He shakes his head and laughs at her expression. The sound brings her out of her memory as well as a grimace on her face.

“Sorry, I was a million years away.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘a million miles away’, love.” Harry continues chuckling while correcting the girl in front of him.

She holds up her pair of shoes, ignoring his teasing. “Fix my shoes, shoe man.”  

His smile drops and he walks back from the door. His feet taking back steps as he beckons her into the interior of the shop. When they reach the corner, he takes the shoes from her hands and places them between their bodies. The teal loafers stare up at them. Harry inspects them, a serious expression falling over his features. His brows scrunch together slightly, the wrinkles in his forehead growing more prominent as he examines the shoes. Large hands reach out and begin to finger over the patent leather on the top and the leather soles. After a few minutes of silent deliberation, he places down one of the shoes and then holds the other up as if to showcase it.

“These,” he juts out the shoe in his hand, “need new soles. What did you do to ‘em?”

“I wear them a lot.” She insists while Harry looks on quizzically.

“I’ve never seen you wear these.”

Her brow quirks at his comment. “I wore them a lot before I got here,” she corrects. “They’ve been feeling wonky every time I try to wear them, must be because they need new soles.”

Harry nods, now satisfied with her answer. He hums, regarding the teal shoe in his hand once again. “Alright.”

She looks at him confused once again. “Alright what? Can you fix them?” What does he mean by ‘Alright’? “I’ve honestly missed wearing them these past few months.”  

Harry bites his tongue, a quip ready to be voiced. He’d gotten so used to fighting with her, he was confused how it had slipped away all so easily. His fear of them not talking if they stopped fighting didn’t seem to come to fruition so he could rest easy on that front. But now he was going to have to retrain his brain not to be rude after every comment Y/N made.

“Yeah, of course.” He sighs, placing the shoe next to its mate and then turning his face to her. She had been chewing on her bottom lip, actually worried for her shoes. They really were her favorites. She’d had them forever and it would be heartbreaking if they had to be thrown out. If she couldn’t wear them though she was almost sure she’d just let them collect dust in her closet rather than dispose of them if it really came down to it.

“But it’s like a good amount of my day to replace soles…”

Her face falls, but she tries to hide it. She knew Harry was doing a favor by taking a look right now. If he could fix them it didn’t matter when he did it. What he says next though truly throws her off. No normal enemy-ship turned somewhat friendship overnight would engage in what Harry was about to propose. If any such relationship other than her and Harry actually existed.

“Do you want to come out on my boat today?” His brow arches, his lips in a soft smile, he’s being genuine.

“Why would I do that?” Her brows raise along with her voice, taken off guard by his suggestion.

“More fun waiting for me to fix your shoes on a boat than in your shop.” He says simply before taking the shoes and placing them in a little cubby hole behind the counter for safe keeping. “Trust me, you’ll love it.” Her expression doesn’t change. “Just say yes,” He pleads now.

She sighs, “Fine.” All of the reasons not to go out on Harry’s boat are at the forefront of her mind, but she still finds herself saying yes easily. His pleading really wasn’t necessary to get her to agree. The bookstore could live with being closed today, it wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

[veronicamarsconfessions]

Editor’s Note: TV moves on, but we haven’t. In our feature series It Still Stings, we relive emotional TV moments that we just can’t get over. You know the ones, where months, years, or even decades later, it still provokes a reaction? We’re here for you. We rant because we love. Or, once loved. And obviously, when discussing finales in particular, there will be spoilers:

There was a time when Veronica Mars’ legacy was that of a beloved cult show that was canceled too soon by network executives who didn’t understand it. With the arrival of a crowd-funded feature film in 2014, its legacy evolved as one of the first shows to see the benefits of a revival. Now, it simply brings thoughts of sadness, rage, and betrayal.

When Hulu first announced it was reviving the series for an eight-episode fourth season, the news was met with resounding joy from a vocal and passionate fanbase that had never given up hope it would return after the crowd-funded feature film reunited Kristen Bell’s Veronica, a pint-sized private eye with a sharp mind and even sharper wit, with her one true love, the reformed bad boy Logan Echolls (Jason Dohring). But the fire that had burned for more than a decade and twice-revived the show was suddenly extinguished in a single, heartbreaking, and wholly unnecessary moment when Logan was killed by a bomb left in Veronica’s car shortly after the couple exchanged wedding vows.

I can still remember the shock I felt when I reached the end of the screeners Hulu sent. The whole thing felt kind of surreal, like if I didn’t acknowledge what had happened out loud maybe it didn’t actually happen. But it did happen. And I’m still filled with a fiery rage and a deep sadness when I think about it now, nearly two years removed from the episode in question, because needlessly killing Logan was a betrayal of the worst kind. The character’s untimely demise felt engineered for nothing more than shock value, like it existed only to leave Veronica even more isolated and cynical. But the interviews that series creator Rob Thomas gave in the aftermath, in which he tried to defend the decision, revealed something much worse while only driving the knife he’d stuck in fans’ backs deeper.

“In order for us to keep doing these, I think it needs to become a detective show—a noir, mystery, detective show—and those elements of teenage soap need to be behind us,” Thomas told TV Guide of the decision to kill Logan, noting that he also hoped to take Veronica out of Neptune and on the road in potential future seasons. “I sort of viewed these eight episodes as a bridge to what Veronica Mars might be moving forward.”

Instead of being a bridge to the future, it was a bridge to a grave of Thomas’ own making. Not since How I Met Your Mother ignored literal years of character development to deliver a half-cooked series finale the creators had come up with several years prior has a show felt so out of touch with its characters, the story it was telling, and its fans. Thomas’ decision to kill Logan is the perfect example of a creator being unable to recognize their own biases to the detriment of their creation.

He wrongly believed that Veronica needed to be hardened by years of nonstop torment and trauma in order to prove she was a great detective whose story was worth continuing. In putting her through the emotional wringer (again) after spending the entire season attempting to dig into her flaws and determine the root of her problems, Thomas swiftly undermined his heroine and her trauma with one misguided act of devastating violence. The fact that Thomas then chose to also skip over Veronica’s grieving process entirely reveals how little he ultimately thought of Logan or Veronica’s relationship with him, which had pushed her to be better and work through her longtime trust issues.

It is common knowledge by now that Logan was not intended to be Veronica’s love interest when the show debuted, but the fans took to the character more than they took to Teddy Dunn’s Duncan “He Used to Be My Boyfriend” Kane, so the latter was jettisoned from the show after Season 2. And in the end, Logan turned out to be a much better partner and match for Veronica’s personality. So what’s truly unfortunate about Thomas killing Logan, and killing him so violently, is that his thought process during Season 4 has the potential to color everything that happened in the show up until the moment the bomb went off. There is also the issue that Thomas apparently believed that Veronica achieving some level of romantic happiness was a one-way ticket to the grave, as if shows like Friday Night Lights hadn’t already soundly debunked the myth that happy couples did not make great TV.

Obviously an emotional family drama does not play by the same rules as noir, but Veronica Mars had already proven that you don’t need to play firmly within the sandbox of the genre to excel creatively. So why should the more adult version of the show attempt to put itself back in the box to be confined to something more traditional or stereotypical? Furthermore, love and contentment are not character flaws or weaknesses. They are not an element of “teenage soap,” as Thomas put it. In fact, one could argue that by allowing herself to believe that she and Logan could have a happy future together regardless of everything she’d witnessed in her line of work, Veronica had shown more personal and emotional growth in the show’s fourth season than she had in the entire run of the series.

At the heart of the matter, though, is one simple, glaring truth: Logan’s death was a fundamental misreading of the entire Veronica Mars fandom and what they liked about the show. Storytelling should never be dictated by the fans and their desires—one of the loudest and most common complaints critics had about the movie was that it felt too much like Thomas was just giving the fans what they wanted rather than attempting to tell a good story—but when your fandom has dug their hands into the cold soil of the TV graveyard to raise your show from the dead, you should probably have a grasp on what exactly the fans like about it in the first place. After all, they’re the reason you still exist and will be one of the final arbiters of whether or not you get to continue to exist in the future. And the idea that fans would somehow be interested in watching a version of Veronica Mars in which Veronica was on the road, completely alone, and Logan was blown to bits is just a wild miscalculation.

This isn’t to suggest Veronica Mars could not ever survive without Logan. That would be to undercut the rest of the show and the woman Veronica has become since we first saw her cutting Wallace (Percy Daggs III) off the flagpole in the series’ pilot. But there is a difference in writing Logan out of the show’s ongoing story arc—his secretive Naval career offered the perfect out—and violently killing him in an attempt to shock viewers and show just how resilient your heroine is in the face of trauma. A survivor of rape who had to solve the murder of her best friend (Amanda Seyfried) while still in high school because the sheriff’s department was too inept to do it (or simply did not care to do it), Veronica had already been through more in her young life than anyone should ever have to live through.

Although Logan’s death led to her finally seeing a therapist, it seemed to be a one-time thing, so nothing has really changed. Veronica is still the same person she was before the show returned, except now she’s also a widow and Thomas has alienated an entire fanbase to the point that many fans, though likely not all, have no interest in revisiting her story. And they’re not likely to either, since Hulu chose not to move forward with another season.

So much for that bridge to the future.

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟒𝐊 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE 🐚🌊✨ Lightkeeper!Harry is here and I’m BEYOND excited to show you lot this concept I’ve been thinking about quite literally everyday for MONTHS now! I love this story with my entire heart, and I really hope it resonates with some of you and that you fall completely in love with lightkeeper!harry and ST like I have 🥺 Love you! Enjoy! x

Thursday, 11 June

The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give it back to her in some other form. However, that didn’t mean that when something dreadful did happen it wouldn’t affect her, and she wouldn’t feel hopeless. Because she did. Very much so.

Most of her life she had lived in a constant state of harmony. She was neither displeased nor satisfied with the life she was leading because it kept her out of trouble; it kept her safe. Her entire life she had lived in peace in Winchester, a fairly prissy town in the middle of Hampshire county in England. Her father owned a business of sorts, Y/N had never gotten the details of it or how he’d gotten where he was, but all she knew was he inherited it from his father and it was expected to be handed down generation after generation in the McKay family. However, Y/N was an only child and neither her mum nor her dad thought she’d be fit to run the business when the time came.

“Nothing personal, darling,” her mother had said when it was brought up during a dinner when Y/N was still in sixth form. “You just don’t have the brains for it.”

“What your mother means to say,” Y/N’s father went on. “You’re so intelligent in your own way, running the business won’t make you happy.”

They always called it that. The business. They never told her what it was about or explained when she asked questions about it. Not that she expected her dad to be a drug lord, but it would’ve been nice to be let in on something. It would’ve been nice to be given the opportunity to feel of enough importance to someone to know special things.

Y/N looked out the window of the train, the Cornish coast stretching out as far as the eye could see, the sun not yet hanging high enough on the sky to make it dreadful to walk outside in her black oversized smock dress. The book in her lap was still open, though she’d read the same page over and over and over again, not being able to concentrate for long enough to remember what happened at the top of the piece of paper. Everything was fuzzy and she had too much to think about; too much to consider.

The last 24 hours had been the worst of her life. Yesterday had turned everything upside down and she hated it. However, thinking the universe would balance itself out and work in her favour, she was also aware that the reason her life needed help to be smoothed out by higher powers in the first place, was because it was in imbalance. Something was off. Something had thrown it off. But she forced herself to stay hopeful, knowing that if she lost that little flicker of hope in what seemed like an endless night, it’d be next to impossible to find her way back to peacefulness.

She glanced down at the book in her lap and was about to start reading again, not liking it when she had to put the book away in the middle of a chapter. She wasn’t given the opportunity as the overhead speakers sounded their soft alarm, and next second, a woman was speaking.

“Next stop is St Ives. Doors will open on the right-hand side.”

The nerves Y/N had felt in the pit of her stomach came back again, this time with more intensity than the last few. Though she realised what she was doing that morning when she boarded her train for Reading, and then again when she stepped on the train for St Erth, and yet again when she sat down on the train towards St Ives, this time it felt worse than all those times before. This was it. She was here.

She had no idea why she chose St Ives out of all places in Cornwall – in the world even –, why here of all places? Even years later, she could never seem to remember the exact moment when she chose that coastal town, or why it had appealed to her at all. Maybe it was the fact that it had a beach, or that it wasn’t particularly populated, or that there was no way anyone she had ever known would be there. The most important part however, and maybe the only reason why she chose St Ives, was because it was far away from Winchester. It was far away from her family, from her ex, and everything she associated with that town and everyone living in it.

She put The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall away in her purse, slinging her purse over her head to rest across her chest before she reached up and took her old leather bag down from the overhead compartment.  This was the only one she would risk bringing as it used to be her father’s back in the day, but he never used it anymore and wouldn’t suspect it being gone. Placing the strap on her shoulder, she walked off to the closest door, apologising when she jabbed someone with her bag on the way out.

Stepping off, Y/N instantly regretted wearing a long-sleeved dress. Though she was under the protection of the roof above the platform, the heat was still almost insufferable. It got her wondering if this was just a normal day in the very South of England or if it was an exceptionally hot one. She prayed for the latter.

She walked out of the station, staying in the cool shade for a few minutes longer as she typed in the address of the inn she was staying at. Not really knowing how public transit worked here yet, she didn’t want to risk taking the wrong bus or asking a tourist for directions to a place they’d never heard of. Instead, she put her EarPods in and went on her merry way. The second she stepped out into the sun, she was once again reminded of why she’d never wear that black dress again that summer.

The Roaming Crab Inn was on The Terrace, the road along the coast of St Ives, holding dozens of hotels and other places to stay during a visit. Y/N didn’t know why she’d chosen this exact inn, or how she’d even happened upon it. It might’ve had something to do with the picture of the old lady grinning from ear to ear on the inn’s website. A picture that was so lovely and so warm that, in the midst of everything Y/N was going through right then, it made her tear up.

She stepped into the inn, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head, and made sure her hair looked alright before walking a bit further inside. Cherry wooden panels lined the floors, walls, and ceiling, a reception desk in the same style attached to the wall to the right. Pictures of all kinds of people hung on the walls. Y/N suspected it might be locals as well as dear guests who had come and gone over the years. No lights were on as the sharp afternoon sun was sufficient in keeping the lobby just bright enough o that electricity wasn’t needed. Fake green vines hung along the ceiling and walls, as well as from different pots on the fireplace to the right that didn’t seem to be in use. Still, two old recliners stood beside it, tempting to sit down and drown in, to escape a turbulent life.

To the left was a staircase leading up to the other landings, and though Y/N hadn’t stepped foot on it yet, she already knew it creaked. This entire house seemed more like a cottage you’d find in the middle of the country, not on the coast of South England. She slowly started making her way over to the reception, and that was when she noticed the back door. Behind the desk was an old, white windowed door, a little smaller in height but a little wider in breadth than normal doors – like the entrance. It was open, leading the way out into a back garden that seemed to be both small and surrounded by the neighbouring houses on all sides. The wooden fence was covered in vines, flowers of all kinds poking out amongst them and on the ground around. The stone paved patio seemed to be old and uneven, there was a set of bistro metal chairs in all the colours of the rainbow along with a white table to match them.

A gang of old ladies sat around the table, chattering amongst themselves and occasionally laughing, all holding a different knitting project each. Y/N hated the thought of disturbing them, but she also just wanted to check in and go up to her room; maybe even go for a walk to take a look around the place she’d be in for the next few weeks.

She reached for the bell, hitting it lightly as to not make it sound urgent and intrusive. A small yelp was heard from the back garden and then the sound of the metal chair scraping against the stone patio. As she heard the footsteps get closer, Y/N glanced around, taking in the interior of the inn undisturbed one more. As someone appeared in the doorway and their eyes met, the old lady who stood there gave Y/N that warm smile of hers she’d seen online the night before.

“Hello, dear!” she chirped, placing her glasses on the bridge of her nose and walking over to the computer on her side of the desk. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you. And yourself?”

The old lady smiled, her eyes almost disappearing behind her high cheekbones. Her long white hair was fastened in a bun at the back of her head, the rest of her dressed in a pair of white trousers and a tunic with some bird print on it.

“I’m wonderful. What’s your name then, lovely?”

“Y/N McKay.”

“Ahh,” she said. “You’re the one who booked your stay last night.”

“That’s me, yeah,” Y/N chuckled, brushing some hair behind her ear.

“Till August 10th.”

“Yes.”

“Right then, Y/N,” the lady said, taking a key hanging from the wall beside her and taking her glasses off, smiling the entire time. “Let me show you to your room.”

The two walked up to the second floor, taking a right as they arrived and the inn-keeper unlocked the door. The innkeeper kept the door open for Y/N, letting her walk in first. Though the floor and ceiling were similar to the wooden panels of the lobby, the walls were white. Against the same wall that the door came to rest against stood an old blue dresser, and a fake flower in an elegant vase that seemed to be just one of the many flowers in the room. The double bed stood to the far left wall, white sheets covering it and looking so lush that it took everything in Y/N not to sprint over and throw herself onto it. There was a desk as well as a recliner, and a window on the opposite wall overlooking the ocean that was just about a minute’s walk from here.

“The bathroom is over there,” the innkeeper said, pointing at a door beside the staircase. “You share it with the other guests on the same floor as you, alright?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Y/N admitted, genuinely meaning it as well. She didn’t see the problem with that in the least.

“I’m mostly downstairs or in the next house over, which is mine,” she continued. “So if there’s ever anything you think I could help you with, do pop by.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, my goodness,” she suddenly exclaimed, walking over to Y/N. “I’ve completely forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Bessie.” Bessie smiled at Y/N again, making the latter almost want to cry for the umpteenth time that day. “And I really hope you enjoy your stay here in St Ives.”

With that, the innkeeper left Y/N to herself. Y/N let her bag and purse fall to the floor before she dragged the chair by the desk over to the window. She opened it and just stared out across the beach and sea outside. Seagulls were howling overhead, waves were crashing against shore, and the familiar salty scent of the presence of the ocean lingered in the air constantly. It was like one of those trips she’d taken with her parents every summer, a new place every year, always by the coast. Her favourite might’ve been their vacation in Bali. It was gorgeous beyond comprehension, in a way no other place she’d ever been could come close to. But she was aware she’d never go on another trip with her parents again. Not after everything that happened the night before.

Now she couldn’t rely on them any longer. She was on her own. She had no idea what she was going to do, no idea what lay ahead of her. As she at on the chair looking out over St Ives, the town she’d spend her summer in, she realised she’d never felt more forlorn.

St Ives is a coastal town located in the very south-west of the southernmost county in England, Cornwall. It is known for its surf beaches – most well-known being Porthmeor – and its many art galleries and restaurants. Tate St Ives is a gallery at the seafront and has rotating modern art exhibitions, focusing primarily on British artists. The Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden is located in the modernist artist’s former studio, displaying her bronzes and other works.Y/N, having grown up in a fairly posh family with exquisite and particular taste, knew a thing or two about art. 

She always had her purse on her, and in it she’d keep all the essentials for going out and about. Hand sanitiser, Kleenex, band-aids, pads, keys, a portable charger, and the book she was currently reading. The Well of Loneliness lay in her purse as she strolled around, a St Ives guide book in her hand that she’d bought at one of the local stores on what must’ve been their high street.

First and foremost, she wanted to do some sightseeing. She’d be here for a long time, so she might as well get acquainted with the town she’d stay in and learn its ins and outs. There is this part of St Ives called The Island, that isn’t at all an island, but it is just called that. The Island is the imposing headland that juts out into the seat from the spit of land that separates the harbour and Porthmeor beach – the most popular and most central beach in the town. In ancient times it was a promontory fort, but these days it’s probably better known as a location of the tiny chapel of St Nicholas. Walking to The Island, Y/N took in the incredible views of the ocean surrounding her, and the beach – The Townas - beside her that was cramped between The Island and Godrevy Point on the other side.

To her left was what looked to be Hellesveor Cliff, and at the very point of it, on the top of what must’ve been the most haunting cliff Y/N had ever seen, stood a lighthouse. Looking in her guide book, it didn’t say much about the lighthouse except the care of it had been passed down generation after generation by the family currently living there. It was at the very edge of St Ives, farther out than Godrevy Point. It made it so Porthmeor, St Ives, and The Townas were all guarded by these two points, the St Ives Lighthouse watching over its town and the far coast around.

Continuing on her walk, she strolled down the Down-a-long, which is the old, lower part of St Ives built on the narrow ridge of land that separated The Island to the rest of the town. This part of town is the archetypal image of St Ives with its jumble of cobble streets lined with whitewashed, old cottages, some seeming to fall apart and others in better condition. Y/N thought the street names were equally evocative and unique, some of her favourites being Salubrious Place, Teetotal Street, and The Digney. Though it said in her catalogue that fishermen used to live in the Down-a-long before, next to none lived there now as most of it was occupied by galleries, cafes, and little shows that one can shake a stick at. As she strolled through Fore Street, the main shopping street in St Ives, she walked by a vintage shop – Vintage Divine – and jotted it down on her phone.

All her life, Y/N had always loved everything vintage. She liked the thought of owning something that had once been part of someone else’s life, that had made them happy enough they wanted to hand it on and give someone else that same happiness they’d experienced. Though neither her mum, her dad, or her ex-boyfriend liked her obsession with vintage and stuff owned by others before her, their disinterest had never stopped her from going to markets or stores. However, she never bought anything unless she knew she could hide it. Now, she thought, that didn’t have to be a problem.

A few years back when she started to realise her obsession with old stuff, furniture, clothing, and books owned by others before her, she read an article online. The article had suggested that people are attracted to vintage pieces because they offer an escape. Wearing these garments, holding these ornaments, touching furniture from another time is a way to experience a different life. A life that isn’t your own and that was lived before hers or parallel to hers. Shopping vintage then created an exciting search for something special and creative, something a normal shopping trip could never give her. It was weird how much she was looking forward to going through that shop, Y/N realised, but she couldn’t wait to explore and take items home with her. Not that she expected she’d be welcomed home to Winchester anytime soon, but she chose not to think about that too much.

Fore Street was a narrow and cobblestone-clad street with people milling about trying to find a decent place for lunch. Stone cottages lined both sides of the street, either a neutral colour like white, a dull yellow, beige, light blue, or just plain, grey stone. Y/N enjoyed walking among these houses. It was a quiet town, peace seemed to be permanently settled between the cramped streets and tiny houses. Though Winchester wasn’t London with its tall buildings and never-ending bustle, St Ives was even smaller than her hometown, which made it that much more appealing to her. There was a sense of relaxation in the mere atmosphere around her that massaged the tension out of her shoulders and straightened her hunched back.

The door to the Seafood Café she was about to walk by burst open. A couple of people standing around jumped at the commotion, as did Y/N. Dressed in high-waisted loose fitted denim jeans, a white tee shirt tucked into them, a pair of orange worn down Vans, and brown curls in a dishevelled mess, the man who caused the ruckus didn’t seem to notice everyone’s attention being on him. He halted a bit as he came outside before he walked left. Y/N stopped moving, the sudden interruption in her peaceful stroll taking her off guard. The man suddenly started straight for Y/N, his head bent, eyes on the cobblestone before him. He didn’t seem to notice where he was going, not looking up in the direction he was heading. So, when he saw Y/N’s shadow, that’s when he glanced up. Their eyes met just a second before he managed to stop, preventing them from crashing into one another.

“Oh!” he erupted, voice crescendoing. He blinked twice, eyes settling on her for a few seconds before he said a quick, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I should’ve moved out of the way,” Y/N assured him, about to step to the side when she noticed his lips moving again. No words came out, though. She stood there for a few seconds, just watching his jaw and lips work, not seeming to find his words.

“Have a good day,” she went on, trying to step out of the way when the man blurted out, “Please, miss.”

She looked at him again, about to narrow her eyes when she saw a troubled expression on his face. His eyes were a little wide and he glanced over his shoulder before meeting her eyes again. The door to Seafood Café opened again, a woman and a younger girl stepping out.

“Please,” he repeated, voice low. “Go along.”

Y/N frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll owe you my entire life if you just play along for a minute or two, yeah?”

She cocked her head some to the side. “I don’t know what you mean, sir. I should-“

“-I don’t usually do this- I mean, I never do, I’ve never done this before – ever -, but-but they think I have a girlfriend and I don’t. Please-“

“-Harry!”

The man – who Y/N could only assume to be Harry - turned around to face a tiny Filipina woman and an even smaller girl beside her, who looked to be no older than ten. The two looked Y/N over, eyes scanning her from head to toe. Y/N felt like she was under a magnifying glass.

But while they took her in, Y/N’s thoughts wandered to the words the man beside her had said only a few seconds earlier. “They think I have a girlfriend and I don’t.” Was he… was he saying what Y/N thought he was saying? She glanced at him, seeing him draw a shaky breath and meet her eyes, waiting for her to make the next move it seemed. Everything that had happened in the last minute confused her. She didn’t know this man, didn’t know what he’d told these two women or why. She was also well aware that by just walking away she wouldn’t need to worry about him any longer; his problems weren’t hers. This seemed messy, confusing, and a little risky.

Usually, she wouldn’t want any part of it. The Y/N she was yesterday wouldn’t have considered this. She would’ve looked at the man apologetically before excusing herself and walking off, leaving him to figure out whatever lie he’d told these two on his own. But Y/N had changed. Or… at least that’s what she wanted to believe… Fine, she wanted to change, and maybe this was a place to start.

Harry sighed, turning around to face the two he had tried to get away from, shoulders sinking as he met their eyes. The defeat was evident in his body language; he was about to give up and just tell them that he didn’t have a girlfriend. That’s what finally did it, seeing how it took absolutely everything out of him to tell them the following. “Jasmine, I’m sorry, I need to tell you-“

“-It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Y/N interrupted him, smiling as she stepped out from behind Harry. Though she had seriously considered helping him, it still surprised her when she actually heard the words coming out of her mouth. Her heart was beating about as fast as it had that morning when she’d left Hampshire.

Harry looked at her, mouth falling open, obviously shocked by her willingness to help him. It took him a few seconds to gather himself, but once he did, he looked back at the two they were trying to convince with a bright smile on his face.

“What did you have to tell me, Harry?” the older woman asked.

“That, uhh…” He looked at Y/N again before glancing at who she could only assume to be Jasmine. “Jessa, this is my girlfriend.”

Jasmine raised her eyebrows, eyes lighting up suddenly. The girl beside her stood there fidgeting with the hem of her top, looking Y/N up and down still.

“Hi,” Y/N said, stepping forward and reaching her hand out for Jasmine. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Jasmine said, a smile coming to rest on her round face as they let go of the others’ hand. “Harry, you said her name was unusual.”

“That… I-“ Harry stopped himself.

Y/N’s lips parted, unsure how to react to that.

“That’s why you didn’t want to tell us her name, since it was so unusual. Y/N isn’t unusual.”

Y/N chuckled a little, looking at Harry whose whole face was a shade of red she’d never seen before. He glanced around him, meeting her gaze before quickly looking to the ground, scratching at his neck.

“You thought my name was weird?” She was well aware Harry hadn’t known her name until that point, let alone had any time to form an opinion on it. But regardless, she found it funny how he’d refused to give them his pretend girlfriend’s name by telling them it was an unusual one, as if they’d laugh at it.

“I didn’t-“ Harry sighed. “It wasn’t like I was embarrassed I just…” He trailed off, motioning with his hands, but Y/N had no idea what that meant. She didn’t take it to heart, though, knowing it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his cover-up story.

“He has such a way with words,” Jasmine said, clicking her tongue at him. “Anyway, I’m Jasmine, but just call me Jessa. Harry’s stepmother.”

“And I’m Grace.” The little one stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear. The small one had the same roundness to her face as the woman beside her, as well as the same flat nose and almond shaped eyes like Jessa’s. “Harry’s kept you a secret.”

“Gracie, I haven’t kept her a secret as much as I’ve kept her away,” Harry said. “You’re gonna scare her.”

“We won’t scare her!” Jessa exclaimed. “It’s your girlfriend, Harry! We will be nice.”

“Somehow doubt that.” Harry turned to Y/N, turning his back to his step mum and what must be his half-sister. “They like to interrogate, especially Jasmine.”

“You villainise us,” Jessa said, walking closer to them and taking Y/N’s hand between hers. It took her off guard and she almost pulled her hand away, the feel of someone’s skin voluntarily touching hers felt weird.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Harry continued, ignoring Jessa. There was an apology in his eyes that he didn’t voice. Or at least that’s what Y/N thought she saw anyway. “They’ll make it hard to enjoy yourself.”

Jessa reached over and pinched Harry’s exposed forearm. He flinched away from her, glaring as he stepped back a few paces.

“Now you’re being rude.”

“I don’t want you lot to make her uncomfortable with all your questions,” Harry said, a frown etched in his forehead. He hadn’t met Y/N’s eyes directly ever since they almost walked into one another. “Besides, she’s…” Harry’s eyes fell to the guide in Y/N’s hand. “She’s sightseeing.”

Y/N smiled at Jessa and Grace, showing them the small book she was carrying with her. “I’ve just been to the Island. The view from there is fantastic.”

“Harry, the view from the Island is nothing. Have you shown her yet?”

“Jessa, it’s… she’s just…”

Finally, he looked at her, not knowing what to say that would make his stepmother give it a rest. Y/N could understand why she asked so many questions, she was just eager to get to know someone who she thought was Harry’s new partner.

“I arrived this morning,” Y/N answered, smiling at Jasmine. “We haven’t had the time to meet up properly, so in the meantime I’ve just been walking around.”

“Where’s your luggage?”

“At the Inn. The Roaming Crab.”

Jessa’s eyes went wide, looking at Harry disapprovingly again. “She’s not even staying with you? What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“She could stay at our house,” Grace said, eyes on the space that separated Y/N and Harry before she met Y/N’s eyes.

“It’s not that… It’s not like that, I-“ Harry stopped himself, dragging his hand over his face that had been bright red ever since this whole spectacle started. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Am I?” Jessa crossed her arms.

“Yes… I-“ Harry stuttered and though Y/N hadn’t known this man for very long, she could tell he found it hard to find his words in stressful situations.

“We didn’t want to overwhelm each other. We haven’t stayed together for a long period of time before, this would be the first, so I’m staying at the Inn so we won’t get tired of each other too quickly.” Y/N hoped she sounded confident and truthful; she wouldn’t want to blow this for Harry already. After all, she had no idea how long he’d need this pretend girlfriend lie for.

A frown appeared between Jasmine’s brows and it dawned on Y/N that she must’ve said something wrong just now. Panic rose to her chest, but Harry cleared his throat.

“Except for that trip to Exeter last month, but that was only a single weekend. Now she’s here for…” He narrowed his eyes, as if the answer was at the tip of his tongue but Y/N knew she was the only one with an answer to that.

“August 12th,” she said, Jessa letting go of a small squeal at the sound of it. “Dunno how many weeks that’ll be, but I’m-“

“-That’s fantastic! You need to come to Gracie’s birthday next weekend.”

Harry stuttered a little, Jessa’s enthusiasm making him nervous, Y/N thought. “Nanay-“

“-She’s going to love that, won’t you, Gracie?”

Grace nodded her head, grinning up at Y/N. “You can put pretty stuff on my eyelids.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows some and Jessa laughed. “Eyeshadow.”

“Oh! Well, I don’t have loads of that since I’m no good with make-up, but I do have nice jewellery.” Y/N picked at the one she was wearing just then, a gold necklace she’d gotten for her birthday the year before.

Grace’s smile didn’t fade one bit at that. In fact, it only seemed to get a little bigger at the sight of Y/N’s pretty necklace. The girl didn’t say anything, but she swayed from side to side, looking excitedly up at her brother’s supposed new girlfriend.

“You’re coming then?” Jessa asked, looking so happy she might burst, and it hurt Y/N that she probably wouldn’t.

“Jessa, we have barely had time to catch up, let her breathe,” Harry pleaded and Jessa waved her hands at them.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you, Y/N. It’s just…” Jasmine’s eyes fell on Harry standing beside Y/N, her eyes glistening. “It’s just so nice to know Harry’s not alone anymore.”

“I’ve never been alone, nanay.”

Jessa shook her head, sighing heavily. “Alright, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. You’ll probably want some time to yourselves to just walk around. Has she been to the lighthouse, Harry? Take her there.”

Harry sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Nay-“

“-Fine, we’ll leave. It was so nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

“You too, Jessa. And you, Grace.”

Grace gave a wave before Jessa took her hand and the two walked away, probably on their way home or whatever other plans they had. Y/N watched them for a few before turning to Harry. His blush had calmed down a little, but a bead of sweat had appeared at his cupid’s bow. If it was because of nerves or the weather, she did not know, but she was not about to ask him that.

Upon closer inspection and now that they didn’t have Harry’s stepmum and sister watching over them, Y/N could finally study the man she rescued for a total of five minutes. Green eyes that reminded her of the moors she’d spend time running through each summer, a slight stubble along his soft jawline, nose a little too big for his face, and a slight dimple in each cheek even though he wasn’t smiling fully yet. She wondered what they’d look like if he actually grinned.

“Hi,” she said, reaching her hand out. “Y/N.”

Harry chuckled softly, taking her hand, eyes staying on the place they were touching each other. “Harry.”

“I’m glad I could be of some help, Harry.”

A crooked smile reached his lips as his eyes fell to the ground and he stepped away, letting his hand fall to hit his thigh. He glanced up at her. “Thank you for that. They say they’re worried, but they’re really just nosey.”

Y/N grimaced a little, making a breathy laugh escape Harry’s lips. “Is your life more interesting than theirs?”

“Not in the least. I lead the most boring existence in the most boring town in the United Kingdom.”

She chuckled, reaching for her necklace. “Not sure you can claim that title, my life’s pretty up there as well.”

Harry tried to shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans, but the arms of his denim jacket wrapped around his waist were in the way. “Oh?”

“Blimey, I won’t keep you if you’ve got things to do. You look like a busy man.”

Harry stared at the watch on his wrist and bit his bottom lip, looking up at her through his thick set of dark eyelashes. “Yeah, I gotta be on my way actually.”

She gave him a smile, getting one in return.

“Listen, thank you so much for that. I just needed to get them off my back. You don’t actually have to come to Gracie’s birthday party, Jessa just loves when she gets to interrogate people. Her favourite sport is discussing gossip.”

Y/N laughed. “You burn a lot of calories doing that.”

Harry chuckled, scratching at his neck as his eyes fell to her neck and then shoulder. “Anyway, I don’t know how to repay you. If you’re here till August, I guess I’ll see you around.”

For some reason, Harry not really knowing what to say was funny to Y/N. It wasn’t like he owed her anything or the other way around. She’d just helped him out and now they could part ways. Easy as that.

“You don’t have to repay me, I’m glad I could help,” she smiled. “I’ll try and stay out of your way if I see you out and about. You know, to avoid the awkward conversation of telling them we’re not actually together.”

Harry’s lips tipped upward. “Right, thanks.”

“Now, since I’m talking to you,” she said, opening the catalogue again. “Where’s the Tate Gallery?”

Harry turned around, pointing up Fore Street from where they stood. “When you reach Bunkers Hill, you follow that all the way up to Back Road, then you just walk along The Digney and it’ll be on your right-hand side.”

“Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you. I… It was too much-“

“-I’m serious when I say I’m glad I could help, don’t worry about it.” She shot him one last smile before giving him a wave. “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye,” he said, giving her a short nod before she focused her attention back on her surroundings. She needed to catch the street names and get her walk to the Tate on the first try because she could really not be asked to walk back and whip her phone out. After all, Harry just helped her so it was going to be easy to just follow his navigation and get there.

As she strolled along the gallery and the rest of St Ives that day, she couldn’t help but think about that little encounter earlier. She wondered what happened after that, if Jessa and Grace demanded more information from Harry or if he told them how it was all a lie. Putting it all aside, she focused on her trip instead. She’d never meet that family again, but she really hoped everything worked out for them regardless. The last thing she needed was for this summer to be about anything but her and what she really wanted in life. She didn’t need distractions. Her whole life up until now had been a distraction.

Friday, 12 June

Being in south England and not taking advantage of the amazing beaches this part of the country offered, was maybe on the same wrongdoing scale as committing a serious crime. Y/N had gotten dressed that morning and headed straight downstairs to eat breakfast in the tiny dining hall of the Inn. It was positioned in what must’ve originally been the living room in the house, four tables placed in there with two chairs placed by each of them. The dining room had the same layout as the entrance to the Inn; wooden panels all over, flowers and plants everywhere along with pictures and candles to top it off.

When she walked downstairs, Bessie was quick to jump up from where she was sitting in her small back garden, meeting Y/N with a warm beam on her face. When Bessie asked Y/N if she’d like a meat, vegetarian, or vegan full English, Y/N startled herself by replying vegetarian. She hadn’t grown up vegetarian, but in all her life, she’d never had a purely vegetarian meal. So, instead of correcting herself, she let Bessie make her that vegetarian breakfast. The thought of eating something she hadn’t before didn’t make her anxious as she thought it would’ve, but she was rather excited about the whole thing.

Bessie came out with the tray, setting it down before Y/N and asked her if she would mind Bessie’s company. With a quick reply encouraging the old lady to sit down, Bessie ran – or walked as fast as her short legs could take her – outside and returned with her knitting. Y/N had been alone pretty much all day the day before nd she had anticipated being alone all day today as well, so she rather enjoyed Bessie’s company. She had never really envisioned this to be part of her trip to Cornwall – an old lady with her grey hair put neatly in a bun with two knitting needles holding it up, wearing a long bohemian dress and glasses perched on the end of her nose, talking her ear off and Y/N having an immense amount of fun in the process.

The sea and seagulls sounded from inside the Inn, but as Y/N put her bathing suit and summer dress on, on her way down towards the beach, the costal sounds only intensified. The salt in the air clung to her skin and the smell of seaweed got more prominent the closer she got to the ocean. She put her stuff down and brought The Well of Loneliness out again, wanting to finish the book that day because she really wanted to know how it all ended. She wasn’t sure how much time went by as she laid there, completely captivated by the world Radclyffe Hall had created within the book.

It wasn’t that Y/N particularly enjoyed the book. No, it wasn’t that. It was endlessly long and detailed, for absolutely no purpose. The writing wasn’t particularly memorable; one wouldn’t remember it for its evocative and imaginative characteristics, nor for Hall’s ability to tell instead of show. Over the years she’d studied English in college, Y/N knew that a writer should be able to balance those two out; show some, tell some. But that concept was lost on Hall. No, Y/N didn’t like The Well of Loneliness for its writing, not even the plot.

She liked the book because of the plea embedded in it. The plea for LGBT people to be treated as human; that they were normal and not a disease. Why did they have to be other? They didn’t choose this life so why were they to be punished for it by being treated differently? By being illegal? The Well of Loneliness was published around the same time Orlando by Virginia Woolf, who was one of Y/N’s favourite authors ever. Though these two books touched on similar themes of identity, where Orlando shrouded the issue of mysticism, The Well dared to discuss sexual identity openly. Y/N commended Radclyffe Hall for that.

However much Y/N sympathised with Hall and the main character, Stephen, she couldn’t help but laugh at the hypocrisy in the book. While it attempted to strive for acceptance of one minority, it also emanated an underlying attitude of snobbishness and chauvinism towards other minorities at the same time, which made no sense to Y/N. Then again, it was the 1920s, so she guessed she couldn’t really ask for anything else from a rich white person at the time.

Having finally finished the book, Y/N asked someone nearby if they could watch her things while she took a dip. There was a blonde bloke around her age and another bloke with blue hair, sitting not too far off, and when she asked if they could keep an eye on her stuff, they promised they would.

Y/N took her time swimming, trying to remember the last time she’d been on a beach where the public were allowed. It was odd seeing so many around her, but she liked it. She liked the sound of others around her. Silence was good, but in the disturbance of human noise was the reassurance of rescue. The promise that you might be lonely, but you are never alone.

Walking back up to her picnic blanket, Y/N thanked the two men before lying back down, soaking up the sun. She hadn’t been aware she’d already been at the beach for a few hours until she realised her stomach was rumbling. So, packing her stuff together and making sure her hair was somewhat dry, she walked around to see if there were any places she could sit down. The only place on Porthminster Beach was the café with the same name, and by the looks of it, it was completely full. Since Bessie had served Y/N some breakfast, she must have something for lunch as well.

Walking back the 5 minute to the hotel, Bessie jumped up from her place in the back garden, sitting back there with two other ladies and knitting like they’d done the day before.

“Hello, dear, you had a good trip to the beach?”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel completely at ease in this old woman’s company. “Yes, I did. A bit hungry, though, do you have something I could eat, possibly?”

“Of course! What do you fancy?”

“Oh, a toastie’s fine.”

“Vegetarian?”

For some reason, the fact Bessie remembered Y/N’s preference from this morning made her smile. “Yes,” she said without thinking.

“Right, just sit down and I’ll come by with your lunch, my lovely.”

“Thank you so much, Bessie.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Y/N sat down, bringing her phone out as she hadn’t checked it properly in a few hours. She wasn’t sure what she expected, to be fair. There was no one from home who would want to contact her, and if they were to, they would rather look around Winchester than call. In their minds, she couldn’t have run far. Regardless, the mere fact they hadn’t even called her made something inside her sink a little. It felt awful knowing how little she meant to them all along. So little that they wouldn’t even pick up the phone and save her a call or a text.

“Here, my dear,” Bessie said, putting down a tray before Y/N. “I’m gonna pop outside to my little knitting club, if that’s fine by you. Just come on out if you don’t have anything else to do after this, yeah?”

“Thank you so much,” Y/N said and Bessie smiled at her before she disappeared outside again.

Turning her attention to her food, Y/N started thinking about what she could do the rest of the day. She could walk some more around town, she’d seen bigger parts of it yesterday, but there were always corners of a town that needed discovering. Once she was about halfway through her toastie, hasty footsteps sounded from the lobby and a somewhat familiar figure appeared. He stopped a bit on his way towards the reception desk, as if he didn’t want to be a bother to Bessie of some kind by asking for assistance. Bessie appeared a few seconds later, grinning from ear to ear as usual.

“Hello, Harry love.”

“Hi, Bess. I…” he stopped himself, running his hands up and down the sides of his white and grey striped cotton-blend trousers, a navy blue tee shirt tucked into it and a pair of white Vans on his feet. “I just wanted to come check again.”

“For the third time.”

“Yeah, well…” He did a quick shrug. “I just wanted to check.”

“She’s here.” Bessie gestured to Harry’s right and when he looked that way, his eyes immediately found Y/N’s. She didn’t think she’d ever see him again. However, a summer in a small coastal town would make that very hard. She’d try her hardest to stay out of Harry’s way, as well as his family’s, so she wouldn’t make things awkward. She would have escaped to a town a little further south or on the other side of Cornwall, but she was settled in now and she’d already paid for her whole stay.

Though she’d promised to keep away from him to prevent any unpleasant situations, Harry hadn’t made her the same promise. And here he was. For some reason. He seemed both taken off guard to see her sitting there as well as relieved he’d finally caught her. A sigh left him, slumping his tense shoulders a little before he thanked Bessie quickly and walked to Y/N.

“Is it,” he started as he made his way over. “Is it okay if I sit down?”

Y/N nodded her head while swallowing, gesturing with her hand at the chair opposite hers. “Yes, go ahead,” she said when her mouth was free to.

“Cheers.” Harry sat down, slid a little closer to the table and rested his hands between his legs as he leaned back against the back of the chair.

The two fell into silence for a little while, Y/N watching as Harry’s eyes fixed on the small bouquet of flowers in the tiny vase placed in the middle of the round table. Yes, she loved company, but Harry’s had taken her a little by surprise and she was eager to know why he’d come looking for her. She didn’t want to try and draw a conclusion herself without hearing his reasoning first, knowing that whatever she came up with wouldn’t be correct anyway. Instead, she put her toastie back on her plate and focused her attention on Harry, who had yet to say anything. From the way he was biting the inside of his lip, she assumed he was mulling over the right thing to say. It didn’t seem to ever come when finally, he opened his mouth.

“First, I just want to say sorry for yesterday,” he said, meeting her eyes, but quickly looking to her shoulder. “It was proper daft. I was desperate and I panicked, and you were right there.” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

Y/N just gave him a smile. “You don’t have to apologise, I’m glad I could help.”

“And I appreciate you helping me out, I really do, but… here’s the thing…” He cleared his throat. “Jessa and Gracie are right about losing their minds of this.”

Y/N chuckled. “Oh?”

“Yeah, they called and texted all last night and this morning, saying how nice it was to meet you, that I need to bring you to Grace’s birthday next Saturday,” Harry said. “And it makes me wonder if it was even worth it yesterday. I still appreciate what you did, and this is all my fault, but I think…” He trailed off again, scratching at the back of his neck. “Look, I’m doing a naff job of explaining this.”

Sipping her juice, Y/N just smiled at him till she put her glass down. “Take your time.”

He took a deep breath. “Think I might tell them it’s all fake. I don’t have a partner and that’s fine.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, being single is fine.”

“Only thing that’s stopping me is the fact that Jasmine will be crushed. Ever since my dad died, she’s been so worried about me living alone in the lighthouse.”

There was so much to unpack in that sentence that Y/N felt herself retract a little, scanning his face for what the appropriate reaction to that would be. Harry must’ve noticed her silence so he glanced at her face, eyes going wide.

“Oh! Don’t feel like you-“

“-I’m sorry about your dad.”

“No, that’s okay, he hasn’t been with us for two years now,” Harry went on. “That was a real mood killer. Bringing up my dead father with someone I barely know.”

Y/N smiled. “Think you fake breaking up with me was a great mood killer before that was even brought up.”

Harry smiled a little at that, those deep dimples just barely gracing his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She wiped at her mouth with the napkin, brows slowly coming into a frown. “You said something about a lighthouse… do you live there?”

“In the lighthouse?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I’m the lighthouse keeper.”

Her frown deepened a little.

“What?”

“I didn’t think those existed anymore.”

“What, lighthouses?” Harry’s smile widened, amusement tracing his pink lips.

“No, lighthouse keepers.”

He shrugged. “Here’s a living, breathing example of one.”

She couldn’t help her laughter. “Fine, I take it back. I don’t really think about lighthouses enough to give their keepers much of a thought either.”

“Too bad.”

Y/N just shook her head some, noticing a slight redness to Harry’s cheeks that hadn’t been there a few seconds earlier. “You were saying about Jessa.”

“She’s worried about me living alone in the lighthouse. Says I’ll be lonely and that she thinks about me sitting up there crying my eyes out or summat.”

“Do you? Cry your eyes out?”

“No, I like having my own space. I like living there alone. She’s just being a protective stepmum, looking out for me and all that. Like, yes, I’m still sad Dad is dead, but it wasn’t like he lived with me in the lighthouse anyway. He lived with Jasmine and Grace.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “She doesn’t want you to be alone ‘cause she thinks you don’t want to be.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, pausing a bit before mumbling something that sounded like, “That’s why I’ve told them for a few months now that I have a girlfriend.”

She narrowed her eyes some.

“To get them off my back, innit? I don’t want them to think I’m miserable, ‘cause I’m not. But when I told them I had a girlfriend, they got so happy, yeah? I just tried to be as vague as possible, didn’t give them a name and they didn’t ask, assuming I wanted to keep her secret. Jessa hasn’t bugged me about this in weeks… Until yesterday.”

Y/N started piecing everything together. “That’s why you stormed out of the restaurant.”

He nodded. “And ran into you.”

Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “The idea of just telling them I was your fake girlfriend just fell into your head once you saw me?”

Harry chuckled and shifted his gaze away from her, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah. I never do stuff like that. I hate uncertainty, so trusting you yesterday when I didn’t know if you’d play along… well, it took five years of my life.”

 She laughed. “If I hadn’t then the whole lie would’ve been obvious to Jessa and Grace.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help then,” Y/N said, really meaning it as well.

“Yeah, and thank you so much for doing so. It really helped me out… if you look away from Jasmine texting me five times today alone to organise a dinner with you and all of us.”

They both laughed a little at that and when Y/N glanced at Harry again, he was looking down at his hands in his lap. After a brief pause, he met her eyes again.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, and thank you for helping me. I’ll tell them everything now, I don’t want you to have to hide while you’re here for two months.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

For the next few seconds, they looked at one another in silence. Y/N thought back to the moment she’d seen Harry, how it might’ve taken her a few seconds to catch on, but her main instinct had been to help him. She thought of the gratitude on Harry’s face when she played along, how she hoped he one day would find an actual girlfriend that would have just as big of an impact on Jessa and Grace as it seemed she herself had. She was about to tell Harry this when the sound of footsteps sounded from the lobby again.

A woman Bessie’s age walked in, a bag slung over her shoulder and sunglasses in her short black hair. As she stepped inside, she spotted Harry and Y/N sitting together and her mouth fell open, a grin coming to rest on her wrinkling face.

“Bessie, you didn’t tell me these two were going to be here,” the old woman said, walking into the dining area. Bessie stepped out from behind the wall that hid the reception desk from the dining hall. At that, Y/N’s stomach dropped. Bessie must’ve heard their entire conversation. By the look on Harry’s face, he was going through a similar near-death experience to the one Y/N was currently enduring.

“Hi, Mrs Rose,” Harry said, no one seemed to notice the slight tremor to his voice.

“Harry and his new girlfriend,” Mrs Rose said, looking between them. “You know, you lot are the talk of the town.”

“We are?” Harry asked, the surprise in his voice so evident it made the older women laugh.

“Yes, of course! Jasmine told everyone!” Mrs Rose continued, looking to Bessie who was already nodding her head.

“Not everyone, but she told her friends, and you know how people like to gossip around here, don’t you, Harry?” Bessie gave him a smile and Harry smiled back, though it did not reach his eyes. “Anyway, Florence, this is Y/N. Y/N, Florence.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Y/N said, grinning at Florence who stuck her hand out. The two shook hands as Florence beamed back at Y/N. “So, the whole town knows?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case,” Florence said, turning to Bessie who made a noise of agreement. “Jessa can talk about everything and anything for hours, but if her stepson gets a girlfriend? That’s the news of the century and she will not shut up.”

“How lovely,” Y/N said, not really knowing what else was appropriate in this setting as Harry hadn’t opened his mouth once to say anything.

“It’s a little less lonesome up in that lighthouse now, hm?”

“Oh, uhm…” Harry looked at Y/N and then back at Florence, his words having completely escaped him. Y/N was about to come to Harry’s rescue when Bessie took them both by surprise.

“They stayed here tonight,” Bessie explained and Florence looked at her with a furrow between her brows.

“Why on earth would they do that? Harry’s got a perfectly nice place by the lighthouse.”

“Who are we to question the decisions of our youth?” Bessie linked arms with Florence. “Let’s go outside, Flo dear. Leave the lovebirds to be by themselves.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Rose,” Y/N called after them.

“And you, Y/N!”

The second the two ladies were out of sight, Harry and Y/N shared a wide-eyed look, both of their panic equal it seemed. Y/N took a sip of her juice, somehow thinking it would calm her down. It did not.

“Jasmine told everyone,” Harry said, voice a whisper so no one walking by or sitting in the back garden would hear them. “She told everyone.”

“She can’t have… right?”

“You underestimate Jessa. If she was kidnapped and put in a gag, she’d be able to talk through it and move her jaw and teeth in a way that would obliterate said gag.” Harry ran a hand over his face. “She’s very chatty.”

“You’ve painted a vivid picture.”

Harry sighed, leg bouncing and eyes distant as he seemed to be racking his brain for a solution to the situation they were finding themselves in. “I was gonna tell Jessa it was a lie. I was gonna tell-“

“-You still can.”

“But everyone knows now. It’ll be well embarrassing for us when we have to tell people on the street that ‘oh yeah, that ol’ thing, we only pretended to be a couple so people wouldn’t be all up in Harry’s business,’ I somehow don’t see that going down well.”

“Then there’s only one thing we can do?”

“What’s that?”

“We pretend to be a couple.”

He stared at her, his facial expression very neutral, and though Y/N didn’t know him well enough yet, she did think she could decipher when he was displeased and when he was not. He seemed to be mulling it over, wanting for her to elaborate before he made a final decision.

“Everyone knows, I’m leaving in August, we can just say we broke up when August comes around.”

Harry nodded, thinking for a moment before he asked, “What will people say when they see us separated on the street then? Like, we’re not seen together.”

“People need to spend some time apart; it’s exhausting to be around another person 24/7.”

Harry nodded again, contemplating their predicament. “There’s always a lot of parties around here during summer. You don’t have to tag along, but you might have to if Jessa’s gonna be there.”

“I don’t mind,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders some. “I don’t have anything to do all summer, anyway. Might as well be in a fake relationship with a bloke I barely know and help him all I can.”

This made a breathy chuckle leave Harry’s lips and he held her gaze some before having it fall to his folded hands. “Well…” he said, suddenly reaching his hand across the table. “I’m Harry Edward Styles.”

Y/N laughed but took Harry’s hand, shaking it lightly. “Pleased to meet you, Harry. I’m Y/N Bernadette Angelica McKay.”

Harry whistled under his breath. “Mouthful.”

“What happens when you’re brought up in a posh family.”

Harry smiled at that and sat back in his chair. “I guess… I-I guess we should talk about how we got together and all that.”

“Yeah, make a story so it sounds more believable.”

“It’ll help if we have the same story, yes.”

She couldn’t help her laughter again, but it was cut short as Harry’s phone in his pocket started ringing. He sighed, taking it out and looking at it before putting it back down.

“Look, I gotta go.”

“Oh.” Y/N, having thought they were going to plan their fake dating history, blinked in confusion when Harry stood from his chair and looked at her apologetically. “We’ll see each other at some point.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, walking off toward the back garden, calling Bessie’s name as he did. They exchanged some words Y/N couldn’t hear and Harry disappeared into the kitchen for a minute before resurfacing again. Standing in the lobby, he looked at Y/N through the doorway leading into the dining area, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with something to say.

She just gave him a smile, hoping he understood that she just wanted him to take his time. It took one more sigh and a little staring contest before Harry finally found his words.

“You know where to find me, my house is the very tall, pointy one on the outskirts of town.”

She chuckled, watching as he walked out of the front door and down the street. Y/N found her bag, putting it on her shoulder as she got her lunch tray and sat it in the kitchen as she’d done after her breakfast that morning. On her way upstairs, Y/N turned as she reached the front door that was left open to welcome guests. Stepping into the doorway, she looked out over St Ives.

Seagulls were still screaming overhead, the sound of people down by the beach hung in the air all throughout the day, it smelled of seafood and summer, and just beyond the small town, on a tiny hilltop and on the very tip of a cliff, stood a lighthouse. A white lighthouse that rose high above the whole coast around it, protecting everyone. Locals, foreigners, and sailors. And it was operated and taken care of by the bloke Y/N was going to spend her entire summer in a fake relationship with. It didn’t seem real, and yet, that was exactly what it was. She didn’t have Harry’s number and knew next to nothing about him, but – as he put it – he lived in the very tall, pointy house on the outskirts of town. It was impossible to miss it. She could find her way to him, even in the dark.

The lighthouse keeper, Y/N thought to herself as she took in the lighthouse again through the window of her room once she walked upstairs. I have to pretend to be in love with a lighthouse keeper. And somehow, Y/N realised when looking back on that particular summer, that wasn’t the weirdest thing that would happen to her in St Ives.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 2 August, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic​ 🌊 @bopbopstyles​ 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh​ 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @juliassgem​ 🌊 @summerfeelng​ 🌊 @sunflower--styles 🌊 @withallthelove-a​ 🌊

[darthkruge]

hey could you do a jess mariano x reader where the reader has dyslexia but loves to read. someone at school makes a comment about her being dumb and she gets insecure but jess is super reassuring to the reader about how intelligent she is. also they can either be already dating or have mutual crushes. whatever you think fits better. <3

Jess Mariano x Dyslexic!Reader ~ All of You

Summary: Someone at school insults the dyslexic reader and their boyfriend, Jess, provides reassurance. 

Warnings: Bullying, language, insecurities, I think that’s it? 

Words: 2.1k

A/N: Hey!! I’m so, so sorry this took me so long to get to! I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t mean to keep you in the ask box void. I really enjoyed writing this, so thank you for requesting! I decided to make them already be dating because that’s where my brain went hehe. I hope you like it :)

You walked to school hand-in-hand with your boyfriend, as always. Even though it took him about 15-20 minutes out of the way, Jess never missed walking with you. He hated the thought of you starting your day by yourself and never wanted you to feel forgotten about or lonely. Thus, the tradition began and it has stayed the way you start your day, everyday, for the last few months that you’ve been dating. 

Jess pulled you behind the science building, pressing his lips to yours. Your hands instinctively wove into his hair and his arms wound around your waist, pulling your bodies together. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away from your lips and gently moving his kisses down the side of your neck. You hummed in content before moving to meet his face again, once again pressing your lips to his. 

These stolen moments were what you lived for. You’d never felt too confident in yourself, at least as far as relationships went, and you weren’t used to this kind of affection. Even so, you loved every moment of it. Everything with Jess felt so natural. No matter what, you came first to him and he never failed to show it. 

You both pulled away and he softly kissed your forehead.

“See you after second period?”

“Of course” 

“Okay, love. Text me if you need me. Or if you’re bored. Or if you miss me”

“Oh, yes! That Jess Mariano charm. I’m not sure how I’ll endure two classes without it!”

“I’m sure it’ll prove quite e difficult,” Jess said, laughing. The bell rang and he gave you one last smile before you parted. 

You walked into your English class with a smile on your face, giddy after the experience with him. He made you feel alive. It was the kind of feeling you didn’t know you needed, but once you felt it you couldn’t imagine losing it. 

You sat down in your seat, waiting for the teacher to start class. 

“Okay, everyone. Today we’re just going to be doing some silent reading for the first half of class and then I’ll put you in small groups to work on a new project”

Fuck. Group projects were the fucking worst. Unless you got one of your friends, people were normally assholes and impossible to work with. 

Even though you were upset with the new development, you were excited to have time to read. You pulled out your copy of The Great Gatsby that Jess had lent you and picked up where you last left off. Because you read so much and generally did well or at least half-decent in school, people never assumed you had dyslexia. Lots of people had this false narrative that if you have dyslexia, you must hate reading. It was something you were used to, the stupid comments and assumptions. You tried to not let it get to you but you sometimes felt frustrated. You’d run into loads of ignorant people in your life and while you weren’t ashamed to have dyslexia, you hated having to explain it to every new teacher, every new friend in your life. You never knew how’d they’d react.

Even so, reading was one of your greatest joys in life. Losing yourself in the work, in the story, it was enthralling. You loved to find characters that you connected with. Their emotions were palpable and made you feel validated and less alone. Reading was one of the main things that brought you and Jess together. He knew you had dyslexia and, thankfully, never treated you like you were any less. You were afraid he would break up with you once you told him, but, of course, he didn’t. You were still you, and that’s all he cared about. 

He loved trading books with you and hearing your thoughts on them. In doing so, he felt the two of you were brought closer together. Discussing literature was an almost intimate experience in your relationship. Learning which characters and themes resonated with a person was truly illuminating about their personality and mind. Right now, as you read Gatsby, Jess was reading Pride and Prejudice. You loved Jane Austen, as did Jess, and you completely enjoyed discussing her work. 

After a few moments lost in thought, your teacher’s voice pulled you back to the present. “Alright! Okay so for the group project you will be analyzing the short story “The Lottery” by Shirley Jackson. Please read it together today and discuss what you think the most pertinent theme is. I’ve already assigned the groups and I’ll display them on the board right now.”

Your teacher stepped back and turned on the projector so you could see the groups. Scanning for your name, you internally groaned when you saw who you were with. Sarah, Justin, and Alex. They were all close and their friend group didn’t exactly have the best reputation. You grabbed your bag, walked over to them, and sat down.

“So, y’all just wanna read it? Then just talk about it, I guess. We’re looking for themes, right?” Sarah asked.

Everyone nodded, opening up the copies of the short story placed on your desks. You jumped in and immediately felt yourself pulled into the writing. After a few minutes, your eyes glued to the story, you heard the rest of your group closing their packets. 

“Alright, everyone done?” Justin asked.

“Yeah, you?” Alex said

Sarah nodded in agreement.

You, on the other hand, felt your cheeks flush. You were only about 70% through the story. “Sorry, I just need a bit more time, is that okay?”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Just hurry up,” Sarah groaned. 

Your face burning, you went back to the reading. It wasn’t like you weren’t trying, you were! They just wouldn’t understand it. You couldn’t count the amount of times people had told you to just “focus more”. It made your blood boil, honestly. It was so dismissive and you couldn't believe people still thought that way. You always focused and it wasn’t your fault, and, yet, morons like these three persisted. After a few more minutes, you heard Alex again.

“Come on! You can’t possibly still be reading?”

“I’m sorry, just-” You sighed, running your hands through your hair. “Please, just a few more minutes?”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid. No wonder no one wants to work with you. All you do is hold people up, you’re a goddamn idiot” Alex said.

Your eyes burned and unshed tears started to push their way up but you fought them down. You wouldn’t let yourself cry in front of them. They didn’t deserve to see how they’d affected you. 

Finally, the bell went off and you were able to leave. Your group glared at you and you realized you  hadn’t discussed the themes. 

“It’s, um, the story’s about the juxtaposition of peace and violence. Even though the people are in a calm, controlled setting, they resort to violence every year. It’s an outdated tradition they keep up and, thus, it highlights the difference between their actions and how they want to be perceived.” You said quickly, voice wavering. 

Your group scoffed before walking off. That didn’t bother you too much. You knew your analysis was accurate and probably far better than anything they could have come up with, even if they’d spent the last 15 minutes of class discussing it. Despite this, you still felt deflated. The shit they’d said, the way they’d treated you? You couldn’t deny it, it got to you. 

You walked over to your locker and put your stuff away. After that, you decided you were just going to go home. You could call the school later and say you were feeling sick or something. Honestly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were just so drained, you needed to get away from this place and the people in it.

However, you didn’t want Jess to worry. You sent him a quick text saying you weren’t feeling well and put on your headphones before walking out of the school.

What you didn’t expect was Jess to come flying out of nowhere, appearing by your side as if you’d summoned him.

“Jess! What are you doing? Don’t you have class!”

He shrugged. “You weren’t feeling well. Did you honestly expect I’d leave you by yourself? And, seriously, Y/N, you know I hate this place. You’re the only thing that makes it bearable so if you  wouldn’t be here, why should I?”

You nodded and kept walking forward. Jess looked at you quizzically, trying to decode your dejected state. He kept quiet, knowing not to push you to talk. He trusted you’d come to him when you were ready. Therefore, he simply followed you until you made it off campus, where you turned into a random alley and suddenly stopped walking.

Jess caught himself, almost running right into you. You suddenly turned around, dropped your bag, and bolted right into his chest. He was caught off guard but instinctively brought his arms around you, trying to comfort you. He noticed you were crying, your broken sobs getting muffled in his shirt. He soothingly rubbed his arms up and down your back, desperately trying to give you solace. After you finally quieted down, Jess gently and slowly pulled you back.

His hands gripped your shoulders as he studied your face, your sad gaze meeting his. “What happened?”

“Stupid English, that’s all”

“Come on, Y/N, don’t shut me out. What happened?” He said, his tone kind.

“I-” You trailed off, trying to keep your composure. “Some kids just said some shit. I was just reading slower than them and they said some shit. It’s not a big deal, I just- it got to me, okay?”

“Who?” Jess said, firmly this time.

“Jess-”

“Who, Y/N?”

“Alex, Justin, and Sarah.” 

Jess groaned, rubbing the heels of his hands over his eyes. “Fuck them, Y/N. They’re fucking ridiculous and they don’t know anything about you”

“I know, I know. That’s why I’m so goddamn frustrated! Because, like, it did get to me. Jess- Jess, they’re right. I felt like an idiot today, I felt stupid. And I hate feeling that way!” Hot tears smarmed in your eyes, the frustration and anger bringing them out. 

Jess’s gaze softened. As livid as he felt toward the three of them, he knew that’s not what you needed right now. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Love, take a breath. I’ve got you, okay?” 

You nodded, your breathing shaky from the stress of the day. 

“I’m sorry that happened today. Listen to me, Y/N. You’re so smart. You’re smarter than I am, hell, you’re smarter than anyone at that school! They’ve got nothing on you!”

You looked at him and smiled at his words but shook your head. “You don’t need to do that, Jess”

“Yes, I do. We promised we’d be honest in our relationship, right? Well, that’s all I’m doing. Seriously, Y/N, who else at that school could debate the themes in literature with me like you? Who could discuss the importance of accurate representation in books with me? Who could talk to me about just how influential YA books are and why they should be taken seriously-?”

“They are and they should!” You cut in.

Jess laughs, nodding in agreement. “Exactly!! You’re amazing, Y/N. And I swear those fuckheads are gonna get what’s coming to them”

“Jess-” You warn.

“Okay, okay!” He laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “They just- they messed with you and made you upset and I fucking hate that”

“I hated it too. I hate doubting myself because of my dyslexia. I feel so shit about myself when I get in that headspace and I start spiraling and it gets out of control so fast.” 

“I know. It’s not your fault when those spirals happen. And I know you know this, but I’m just gonna remind you: you’re not any less because you’re dyslexic. It doesn’t make you stupid or anything. It’s a part of you and I love you, all of you”

Your heart swelled at his words. Everyone thought Jess wasn’t good expressing his emotions but you knew the truth. He was quite eloquent when he wanted to be, he just sometimes had trouble with vulnerability. You didn’t blame him for it, with his past it made perfect sense. But when you needed that reassurement, that compassion, you could always count on him for it. 

He moved to place a kiss on your forehead before slinging his arm around your shoulder. “Let’s go home, okay?”

“Okay” You smiled up at him and kissed him once more before tucking your head into his shoulder. He pulled you closer and you grabbed his free hand with yours as you continued to walk through the Stars Hollow streets together.